women who arrived in Cowboy Creek were either already married to businessmen or ranchers, or had come seeking husbands. Marigold Brewster had apparently come to teach, but it was a long way to travel for a position.
“What brought you to Kansas?” he asked.
She glanced at Little John and then aside. “I lived in Ohio with my sister. We worked and took care of each other. And then she died. It was lonely living in my parents’ home without them—without Daisy, I mean. I saw the advertisement for a teacher in a growing boomtown community, so I sent a telegram and once I heard back, I sold the house. I wanted to start over.”
“Did you have friends there? Other family?”
She shook her head. “We had friends once. The war changed everything.”
He nodded. “Indeed.”
A moment passed and the cry of a hawk echoed in the distance.
“Where were you during the war?” she asked.
“We ranched in Missouri, so I guess that tells you something. We were battling over statehood from the start. Towns and families split over joining the Confederacy. My father had built up stock and my brothers and I helped out. The ranch was thriving, but when the war broke out, most of the ranchers had to set their cattle loose while they went to fight. We thought it would only be for a few months and we’d come back and round ’em up, sort ’em out and go on. We lost at Wilson’s Creek early on, won at Pea Ridge, but the battles went on and on, and there was no law to be had.”
“I followed the newspaper reports,” she said. “What about your parents?”
He collected himself before speaking. “My father was killed in sixty. Before the war. Then between Quantrill, the James brothers, Bill Anderson and the like, it was too dangerous to leave my mother alone, so we sent her to her brother’s family in Philadelphia, and she waited out the war with my aunts. I ended up fighting in Arkansas, was with General Steele during the Red River Campaign.”
“You said ‘we’?”
“I have two younger brothers.” He spotted a trail of dust in the distance. “Looks like you’ll be meeting one real soon.”
* * *
Marigold turned in the direction Seth studied. Dust rose in the air as a rider approached. He reached the dooryard and slid from his sleek black horse. Dressed in a black waistcoat, black trousers and shiny boots, he approached the porch and removed his hat. He was as tall as Seth, but leaner. A neatly trimmed goatee made his face appear all the more angular.
The stranger turned his attention on Seth. “I just returned from Lawrence this morning and heard you got banged up yesterday.”
“I didn’t know you were gone.”
“Last-minute trip.” The man turned to Marigold. “You must be Miss Brewster, our new schoolteacher. Russell Halloway, miss.”
“A pleasure,” she said.
His gaze slid to the sleeping boy. “And this is one of Tessa’s children?”
“That’s Little John,” Seth answered. “Did you look over the letter?”
“I did. She had it witnessed, and I sent a telegram to the witness who confirmed being present and that Tessa was of sound mind when she wrote it. If someone contested your custody of the children, the letter would be enough to sway a judge that you should have them. It’s not a legal document, however, so no court could force you to take the boys if you were set against it.”
“What other options would there be?” Marigold asked with concern.
“The records of disposition of desperate orphans have increased by thousands in the past five years,” Russ explained. “There are orphan asylums across the country that take children from infancy to age thirteen.”
“Desperate orphans,” she repeated, glancing from his brother to Seth. A slice of panic rose in her chest. “An asylum sounds dreadful.”
“I’m not refusing to take them,” Seth assured them both. “Tessa wanted them in my care, so that’s where they’ll stay. I just want to make sure everything is legal. There can’t be any question about the authenticity of Tessa’s will.”
She took a deep breath and thanked the Lord for Seth’s magnanimous compassion.
The brothers looked at each other, and Marigold sensed the tension barely below the surface.
“I wouldn’t want ’em to settle in and then find there’s a problem,” Seth insisted.
“You can petition a judge and sign papers to adopt them if it’s what you want,” Russ told him. “Just remember if they carry your name that upon your death they will legally inherit your land and holdings—shared with any other children you might have, so you’ll need to have a will in order.”
The thought of leaving these children a share of his land didn’t seem to bother Seth, because he replied immediately. “Get those papers ready to sign then.”
Russell rested his hat on a small table. “It will take me a few days to put the papers in order, so you’ll have time to think about it.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“Russ!” Evelyn pushed open the screen door and hurried to give her son an energetic hug. “I was expecting to see you yesterday.”
“Just returned this morning,” he explained.
“Miss Brewster, you’ve met my second-born son? He’s a lawyer and has his very own practice in town—the one you saw on Eden Street. Daniel Gardner and Will Canfield contacted him and suggested he come to Kansas. Russ is the reason we’re here, too. He told Seth about this ranch when it came available.”
Russ appeared uncomfortable with her lengthy introduction. “We’ve met, Mother.”
Undeterred, Evelyn continued. “Russ is expecting a lovely young woman to arrive by train very soon. We’re all looking forward to her arrival.” She turned to her middle son. “Would you like some dinner? It’s still hot.”
“I am hungry,” he said.
“I’ll get it.” Marigold stood quickly. “You sit and visit with your sons, Mrs. Halloway.”
Marigold entered the house and busied herself making another tray, giving the Halloways time to talk. When she carried out the tray minutes later, Evelyn had moved the table near Russ’s chair.
“Thank you, Miss Brewster.” Russ picked up his napkin and settled it on his lap.
Evelyn gave her son an affectionate look. “After my husband died, we got into hard times back in Missouri. Russ was at university out East. He had to take a job and earn scholarships to finish his law degree. It took him a few years, but even with him going off to fight, he did it.”
Marigold found a narrow space on the opposite side of the sleeping Little John and squeezed herself in. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”
“After
