added to her size.
“Miss Taggart,” he said. “You’re the Reverend Taggart’s daughter.”
She smiled easily. “He was right behind us a moment ago.” She glanced into the crowd. “Disembarking was a challenge, but no doubt we all feel welcome.”
“The men are a bit overzealous,” Daniel said by way of apology. “I’m sure you’ll forgive their excitement.”
“Prudence Haywood, Mr. Gardner.” The short curvy woman introduced herself with a curt nod. She had auburn hair, hazel eyes and wore a cameo brooch on her collar.
Daniel and Will acknowledged her introduction.
“Here’s my father!” Hannah announced.
The beaming fellow approached and removed his hat to shake the hands of both men. “Reverend Taggart,” Daniel said. “We’re so pleased you’re here.”
“It’s Virgil,” the reverend said, his friendly manner a welcome answer for the unspoken question of what sort of preacher might be coming their way. He sported a narrow mustache and a wide smile that creased the corners of his eyes. “Hannah and I are excited to be here right when your town is on the verge of a population explosion.”
“Can’t bring women to this county without preachers and doctors and schools,” Daniel pointed out. “We’ve been planning this for some time. We have a lot to show you.”
“I look forward to hearing all about it.”
“Papa, where is Mrs. Swann?”
“She was by my side only a few minutes ago. These Kansas fellows seem quite friendly and eager to meet the ladies.” He stood on tiptoe to survey the way he’d come, but the crowd had closed back around the temporary opening. “There she is. I see her hat.”
“Let the lady through!” Daniel called, standing as tall as he could manage and peering above the crowd. He was thinking that perhaps he would need to get back on the stack of crates when he spotted a blue feathered hat on a pale gold head of hair. “There she is. Mrs. Swann! Let her through.”
The poor woman steadied her wisp of a hat atop her head with one white-gloved hand, and turned this way and that, speaking to men as she choreographed her way through the crowd. When she finally neared the open clearing where Daniel and Will stood with the other newcomers, she turned, disengaging herself from the attentions of an overeager cowboy, and nearly stumbled forward.
Daniel caught her elbow to steady her.
“Oh! Thank you. This is quite a reception!” She glanced up. Cornflower-blue eyes rimmed with dark lashes opened wide in surprise. The world stood still for a moment. The crowd noise faded into the void. “Daniel?”
Daniel’s gut felt as though he’d been standing right on the tracks and stopped the locomotive with his body. He couldn’t catch his breath or find his voice. Sounds resumed and he filled his lungs with air. Finally his heart resumed its inadequate cadence, and he cleared his parched throat. “Leah Robinson?”
She was as pretty as ever. Prettier maybe, her face having lost the roundness of girlhood and her skin and bone structure having smoothed into a gentle comeliness. Her winged brows were pale arches over those sparkling blue eyes, and her lips were full and pink. Her green-and-blue-plaid dress with black trim was the perfect foil for her pale perfection. It was ungentlemanly of him to notice the curves...the pale skin at her throat...yet he never had been able to look away.
Mrs. Swann was Leah Robinson, one of his best friends before the war. Will had once shown him a wedding announcement from a Chicago newspaper, and all these years Daniel had pictured her just as she had been back then, full of youth and vitality, and married to the army officer she’d chosen. That had been a lifetime ago. So what was she doing traveling to Cowboy Creek with their mail-order brides?
* * *
The crowded platform was a blur of faces. Leah tasted dirt on her tongue and her eyes were so dry it hurt to blink. Cowboy Creek was as muddy as Chicago, and she’d thought that was bad. That city was systematically raising buildings, even entire blocks, above the level of the river, and it had been impossible to keep a clean pair of boots. It looked as if it would be the same here.
Daniel. Seeing his familiar face anchored her in this sea of chaos, brought back memories of home and family, eased her fears and assured her she’d made the right choice coming here. She hadn’t seen Daniel in years, and yet here he was standing before her as tall and real as anything she’d ever laid eyes upon. It took every last ounce of her reserve not to throw herself into his arms and feel safe at last. Here was someone she could trust, someone who remembered her and shared her past. His tanned face and piercing green eyes revealed he was as shocked to see her as she was to discover him here under the Kansas sky.
“Daniel,” she said again, feeling foolish, but so relieved that she finally felt some moisture in her eyes. “I am so glad to see you.”
“What is this?” His tone seemed almost gruff. “You’re one of the prospective brides?”
She wanted to grab on to him, but held her desperation in check to simply nod. “Yes. Yes, I’m a widow.”
His expression changed, confusion turning to understanding. “I see. I’m so sorry.”
You have no idea. I never want you to know. “Thank you.”
“What about your family? Your father?”
“They’re gone, too.” Gone seemed an insufficient explanation for her grief, but of course he would understand the pain behind those words. It was an all too common story. The war had stolen so much from all of them. “Nothing is as we remember it.”
His eyes clouded with sympathy and something more. Regret. Anger. And then incredulity. He did understand. He extended a hand as though he wanted to touch her to see for himself she was real, but he drew it back self-consciously. He shook his head. “And after all that, here we are...”
“You survived, Daniel.” Her voice was too breathless, but she didn’t care. Life was precious.
“Leah?”
She turned as a dark-haired man with a cane approached from Daniel’s other side, amazement on his sculpted face. “Leah Robinson?”
It took her stunned brain a moment to sort and make sense of what her eyes were revealing. Will Canfield? Both of them here in Kansas? How could this be? Growing up in Pennsylvania, the three of them had been inseparable. “It’s Swann,” she said. “My husband’s name was Swann.”
“Your army officer?” Will asked.
Her army officer indeed. I made a mistake back then. More than one mistake. I should have stayed in Pennsylvania. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry. A lot of good men didn’t come home.” Will stated a fact. Yes, her father had been a good man. Thousands upon thousands of men had been killed. And many of those who had come back returned to burned-out farms and missing families. Her story was no different from plenty of others.
She had nothing to say. That both Daniel and Will had survived was, in her eyes, a blessing at the hand of their merciful God. Awash with joy at seeing her old
