Josie had never received a letter before, not even from the aunt she had lived with. So why now? And why from aman? A deep unease settled in Travis’s core. What business did this Victor Anderson have writing to her? What man thought he had the right to write to a married woman? Josie was his wife, and if any man was trying to woo her, he’d get to the bottom of this.
The children were in bed, since it was already dark out, so he closed the cabin door behind him as softly as possible. Travis removed his coat, and as his eyes searched across the room, his heart skipped. In the glowing candlelight, Josie stood at the iron stove, wearing her forest-green dress from earlier, hugging her hips. Travis’s jaw dropped. When Sophie was expecting, she wore baggy dresses, but it seemed Josie had yet to find the time to make them. His pulse increased, imagining Josie in her cotton chemises since they would be the only loose-fitting items.
Don’t think of her like that.He wanted to kick himself. But she had indeed looked good on their wedding night, those slim curves, her smooth, soft skin. Travis winced as he bit his tongue.Stop that. You can’t trust this woman. The letter in your pocket is another reminder. Victor Anderson, my foot.He could be a crummy old man, but still, the fact remained a mystery. Travis, indeed, knew nothing about his wife, other than the short truth that had too many gray areas—a dead husband, no family, and a baby.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Josie said, turning away from the cast iron pot on the stove. “I’ll heat your stew.”
Travis shrugged off his extra jacket and settled into a chair at the table, the letter crunching softly in his pocket. The stew bubbled on the stovetop, the rich aroma filling the air as Josie stood behind him, busy with dinner preparations.
“How was your trip into town?” she asked.
“Just another trip. Got the first half of the payment for the harvest. Some mill workers are taking the grain out to Bozeman next week. Then maybe, we’ll get some more.”
Josie placed a bowl of stew in front of him. Traces of carrots, beans, and venison floated to the surface. Travis bowed his head in a silent reflection of prayer. After he took the first bite, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. He handed it to Josie and watched as she examined it. Her brows arched as though she didn’t recognize the name, but her eyes widened, her face paling. She ripped open the letter anxiously, her hand over her mouth.
“It’s from Aunt Tia’s lawyer. Why would he be writing to me?”
Lawyer—the word was like a breath of fresh air. Travis was foolish for allowing his imagination to run wild, fearing the worst when it was simply a matter of legal affairs. Perhaps it was fear that had clouded his judgment. Some days, he thought he knew Josie inside and out, but other days, she seemed like a stranger.
A shrill sob escaped Josie’s mouth, and her eyes brimmed with tears. Travis stood swiftly. He pushed his stew aside, joining her on the other side of the table. He leaned over her, studying the letter, but he could hardly read it from Josie’s shaking.
“Jo, is everything all right?”
Josie’s eyes remained fixed on the letter. She shook her head slowly. “M-my aunt has died.”
She dropped the letter onto the table and covered her face as she cried. Travis wasn’t good at comforting people, especially women. He tried his best to comfort Ma when Pa passed, buthe didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t bring the dead back to life and no words could soothe the pain. Travis had hugged Ma close at that moment and told her everything would be all right, but that was a lie. “All right” wasn’t possible with a great loss. Travis felt the same way when everyone gave their condolences and left food at his door when Sophie died. Comfort didn’t make it better; it made it worse. Neither food nor condolences could bring his loved ones back from the grave.
“What happened?”
Josie dried her tears with her hands. “She passed in her sleep. The doctors said she had a fragile heart, but she seemed fine when I was with her. How can someone be fine and all of a suddendie?”
Fragile heart—the cause made Travis tense. It had been the same with his father. The man had been healthy, but one laborious load took him down. All because Travis was too lazy to help. Travis shook the memory away. Everything was different now. Travis worked harder than anyone, and he’d never rest again.
“I’m sorry, Jo. I know how important she was to you.”
Her teardrops hit the table as she rubbed the letter between her fingers. “That was the last of my family. I have nobody. I-I’m alone. I’m truly alone. I don’t have a family anymore.”
Her voice reeked with pain. Travis stood behind Josie, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close as he had during the Founder’s Day celebration. But this wasn’t dancing. His wife had suffered a great loss, and now, only he could help her, comfort her.
“We are your family now. You will always have us.” Travis turned her chin towards him, seeing those doe eyes brimming with tears. “You aren’t just a mail-order bride to me. You are my wife and the mother to my children. We’re family.”
“Do you mean that?” Josie whispered, her breathing staggered.
Travis nodded. “Yes. I mean every word.” She was his wife, and this woman was his family. Despite all she did in the past, he couldn’t help but care for her. He made a vow to love, honor, and cherish her. And at that moment, this is what he was doing—or what he tried to do. “Whatever you need, Jo, I am here.”
Josie turned, picking up the letter again. “She left everything to me—the house, money, everything she owned.”
Travis’s eyes widened. He held onto the chair rail, careful not to lose his balance. He knew Josie came from a wealthy family, but he never expected they’d face a great fortune in their marriage. With the house, Josie could be a respectable widow and raise her baby without him. But the thought of her leaving nearly left him sick.
Despite his words, telling her she was his family, he wasn’t sure how money fit into it all. Would she leave them? She married him for security, and now, she didn’t need him. The thought nearly tore him to shreds. Would she abandon it all, his children, the town—and him?
He gripped the wooden chair, his throat clenching. “Are you going to take it?”
Josie laid the letter down. “No.” Her fingers quivered, folded atop the white paper.
Travis’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t go back? This woman must be mad. Money, an estate, and in a civilized area? How could she not leave Montana behind? North Carolina would be safer than the wild, uncivilized frontier. He wanted her to stay. The children needed her to stay. Yet, how could he hold her back?
“But the baby . . . it will have so much. You can give it a better life away from here.”
