His Substitute Wife. Dorothy Clark

Audrey Prescott caught her breath. They were almost there! A sharp spasm in her stomach pulled her gaze from the mountains she’d been watching outside the soot-filmed window. More than a few of the soldiers sharing the passenger car on this last leg of her long journey from New York were staring at her with open admiration. Heat crawled into her cheeks. She locked her gaze on the lanky conductor standing just inside the door, his legs splayed against the rocking of the train.

“We’ll be stopping at Whisper Creek long enough to take on water and coal. You’re all welcome to get out and stretch your legs if you’re of a mind to, but we won’t be more than twenty minutes at most, so don’t wander off. The town’s raw and there’s no food available—and no drink. Town’s dry.” The conductor’s piercing gaze slid her direction; a smile warmed his face. “I’ll be unloading your trunks for you, Miss Prescott.” He stepped back outside onto a small platform and closed the door.

Her trunks. Another spasm struck her stomach. What would Blake Latherop think when he saw her standing beside them at the station? The rhythmic clack of the train’s wheels against the rails, the rocking of the car as they rolled down the tracks were suddenly a comfort she did not want to stop. The train swayed around a mountain wall, blasted its whistle, then chugged through a growth of tall pines and entered a long, broad valley. She stared out the window at the vast field of grasses bisected by steel rails, her stomach roiling.

What had she been thinking, coming to Whisper Creek in Linda’s place? Her plan was foolishness—pure foolishness. She winced, opened her purse and withdrew Blake Latherop’s last letter to her sister. The paper shook. She frowned at the display of nerves and scanned the words she’d read so often she knew them by heart.

My Beloved,

At last! My dearest Linda, it is with great joy I write to tell you the construction of my store is finished. The first of the goods and supplies I have ordered came on Tuesday’s train, and I stocked the shelves this very evening. Tomorrow morning, I will hang the Open sign on the door.

My beloved, there is nothing to stand between us now. Our living quarters upstairs over the store are also completed. It is my hope that the furniture I’ve purchased comes in time for me to have it in place for your arrival.

My dearest Linda, hurry to me. As I told you when I asked for your hand before I came West, the contract I had to sign in order to receive the free land and building lumber in this new town states that I must marry within thirty days of opening my business or I lose the store and all I have invested in it to Mr. Ferndale, the town’s founder. That investment, dearest, is the total of the inheritance I received from my mother that I told you of. But do not fret. Once the town grows, I am confident the store will provide us a comfortable, even prosperous living.

I am enclosing the railroad ticket for your journey to Whisper Creek, as well as money enough to cover any expenses you may incur. Don’t waste a moment, my dearest. Our future depends on you. And I am emboldened, as your betrothed, to tell you I am eager to again look upon your beautiful face and form and to hold you in my arms and pledge to you my undying love.

Until you arrive, I remain your impatiently waiting, always faithful,

Blake

The train’s whistle blew again. Audrey closed her eyes, fighting a rush of panic. What was she doing here? How could she ever have thought of such an insane scheme? The clacking of the wheels slowed. It was a matter of minutes now. The knots in her stomach twisted tighter. She opened her eyes and stared down at the letter fluttering in her hand, guilt swarming. She should never have answered Blake’s letters when Linda asked her. But she’d wanted to believe her sister had changed, that Linda really did intend to marry Blake. And when Linda had gone off on her monthlong visit with friends, what else could she do with Blake so far away and anxiously awaiting a response from his betrothed?

She refolded the letter and ran her fingertip along the crease. Blake wrote beautiful letters full of plans and hope for the future. They deserved a respectful reply, not a careless dismissal! Still, she should have warned Blake that Linda liked to string a beau along until someone new took her fancy. But she’d hated the thought of hurting him—and of being disloyal to Linda. Oh, if only she’d known about the contract Blake had signed on the strength of Linda’s pledge of marriage!

Our future depends on you. Her face tightened. The guilt that had driven her to board the train for Whisper Creek surged. She drew a deep breath and pressed her hand against her stomach, hoping she wouldn’t be sick—though it was no more than she deserved. Dear Lord, I know it’s foolishness, but please let my plan work. Please help me to make amends for writing those letters. I didn’t know the true situation, and—

The train jerked, jerked again and came to a stop. Her oft-repeated prayer blurred into an unarticulated plea from her heart. She peered out the window at a long, plain building shadowed by two huge tubs sitting high on splayed legs and attempted to gather her courage. The engineer and fireman hopped from the train, trotted to the second tub and swung its black-stained chute into place above the coal car. The fireman pulled a cord and coal tumbled down the chute, black dust puffing against the rose-streaked dusk sky. She shifted her gaze to the wood sign hanging from the deep eaves of the depot’s roof—Whisper Creek

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