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  Amon

  Prairie Grooms, Book Seven

  by

  Kit Morgan

  ANGEL CREEK PRESS

  Amon (Prairie Grooms, Book Seven)

  by Kit Morgan

  © 2015 Kit Morgan

  Other titles by Kit Morgan:

  The Prairie Bride Series:

  His Prairie Princess (Prairie Brides, Book One)

  Her Prairie Knight (Prairie Brides, Book Two)

  His Prairie Duchess (Prairie Brides, Book Three)

  Her Prairie Viking (Prairie Brides, Book Four)

  His Prairie Sweetheart (Prairie Brides, Book Five)

  Her Prairie Outlaw (Prairie Brides, Book Six)

  Christmas in Clear Creek (Prairie Brides, Book Seven)

  The Holiday Mail-Order Bride Series:

  The Christmas Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book One)

  The New Year’s Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Two)

  His Forever Valentine (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Three)

  Her Irish Surrender (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Four)

  The Springtime Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Five)

  Love in Independence (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Six)

  Love at Harvest Moon (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Seven)

  The Thanksgiving Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Eight)

  The Holiday Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Nine)

  His Mail-Order Valentine (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Ten)

  The Easter Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Eleven)

  A Midsummer’s Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail-Order Brides, Book Twelve)

  The Escape: A Mail-Order Bride Romance (Dalton Brides, Prologue – with Kirsten Osbourne, Cassie Hayes)

  The Rancher’s Mail-Order Bride (Dalton Brides, Book One – with Kirsten Osbourne)

  The Cowboy’s Mail-Order Bride (Dalton Brides, Book Two)

  The Drifter’s Mail-Order Bride (Dalton Brides, Book Three – with Cassie Hayes)

  Percy’s Unexpected Bride (Dalton Brides, Book Seven)

  Coming Soon:

  Justin’s Runaway Bride (Dalton Brides, Book Eight)

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  All characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or livestock are purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Angel Creek Press, The Killion Group and Hotdamndesigns.com

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  There is a legend, they say, of those with hearts that grow to a point where they must share it with another, or suffer the consequences. And once shared, one cannot live without the other …

  Prologue

  The Stantham estate, Sussex, England, 1861

  The Duke of Stantham paced behind his massive desk. “You do realize what you’re asking of me?”

  Newton Whitman stood on the other side, his face locked in firm resolve. “I do.”

  “After all, your father Thackary Holmes isn’t the most popular chap amongst the Sayer family.”

  “Nor is he with mine.”

  His Grace Duncan Sayer stopped pacing and looked at him. “Have you ever met him?”

  “No. And at this point, it is my sincere hope that I never shall.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “She feels differently than I do. She believes in … forgiveness.”

  “And you?”

  “I believe in justice.”

  “I see.” He sat and indicated Newton should do the same. “I’m familiar with your mother’s family. Your grandfather the Baron was a friend of my grandfather’s, as I recall. Nice fellow. As is apparent from his treatment of you and your sister. He didn’t have to raise you in his household. He could have left the two of you to the whims of the London streets.”

  “But he didn’t. However, we have our mother to thank for that, not the Baron.”

  “The man, has, put a roof over your head all these years,” Duncan pointed out.

  “He put me to work in the stables and made Nettie into nothing more than a servant after our mother died. Now he seeks to be rid of her all together. I’ll not stand by and watch him marry her off to some witless worm!” Newton looked away and swallowed hard in an effort to calm himself. “Your Grace … I must get her away from here. I cannot let him do such a thing.”

  Duncan studied him. The younger man’s shoulders shook with intense emotion as his dark eyes flashed. They were in sharp contrast to his honey-colored hair. Newton Whitman – correction, Newton Holmes – was obviously a passionate man, especially when it came to the people he loved. Duncan smiled. He could definitely relate to that. “I think I can help you, but you must be prepared for the worst in case things don’t go as planned.”

  “We will be,” he said, tight-lipped. “What can you do for us?”

  “My brothers are reasonable enough. If I send a letter with your sister, I’m sure they’ll find her a suitable husband in no time.”

  “Your brothers?” Newton said as he leaned forward. “But I heard they were in America.”

  “So they are.”

  “But Your Grace, that means you’d be sending Nettie to …”

  “America, yes. Clear Creek in the state of Oregon, to be exact.”

  Newton fell against his chair, eyes wide with shock. “I can’t let you send her there. She’d never make it on her own. Oregon … isn’t that … in the West?”

  “Indeed it is, my fine fellow.”

  “But …”

  “But why don’t you go with her? Act as escort?”

  “To America?” Newton practically squeaked.

  “Unless you’d prefer to stay on as the Baron’s stable boy?”

  Newton became tight-lipped again. He was far beyond a simple stable boy at this point. He was the stable’s master, a position he’d fought long and hard for. To give it up meant giving up a good future. He wanted to breed horses and had become quite adept in his knowledge of bloodlines, both current and old. He’d even experimented with a few, with outstanding results – one of the few things his grandfather the Baron approved of. “But Oregon …”

  “Clear Creek,” Duncan added. “It’s a small town, but full of single men, all in want of a good wife. Of course she’ll have to cook and clean and such, but from the sounds of it, she already knows how.”

  “Indeed, she does.” Newton mumbled as he balled his hands into fists.

  Duncan studied him a moment before adding, “More to the point, you both could start a new life there. The people are friendly, kind, generous to a fault, and you’ll find no better neighbors. Besides, your sister would be free to choose her own husband.”

  Ne
wton looked up at him. He’d been staring at the desk. “Freedom,” he whispered.

  “Yes. Especially freedom from your association with Thackary Holmes.”

  Newton closed his eyes a moment. Nettie would no longer have to put up with the cruelty of the other women on the Baron’s estate. It was bad enough being a by-blow, but when the Baron reduced his sister to a servant in his home, the female staff in the house were quick to turn on her. And all because Nettie still had hopes of marrying, albeit with help from the Baron. But the prospects were less than desirable to say the least, and Nettie was too young and pretty to be wasted on the likes of some old lecher. “All right. I’ll do it. I’ll take her.”

  “Good. I knew you’d see reason. And I’m sure that in time my family can help you find a suitable wife as well.”

  “In time?”

  “There are plenty of eligible bachelors in Clear Creek, but no eligible women. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait much longer than your sister to marry. I’m sorry, but that’s the way of it in the American West. At least it was when I left. It’s why I sent my cousins there.”

  “You sent … you mean … that’s how they got married?”

  “Yes, of course. All six of them.”

  “You’ll pardon my ignorance, Your Grace. I’d heard you’d managed to marry them off, but had no idea you’d sent them to America to see it done.”

  “My cousins needed good husbands. Clear Creek needed respectable women. I saw it as an opportunity to help both. I’ve no doubt the place could use more women.”

  “Nettie will be well taken care of, then …”

  “If you’re there, you can see to it personally, meet the men who want to court her. And besides, I’m sure she’ll feel much better about the journey when she finds you’ll be coming along as her protector.”

  Newton stared at him. “Indeed she shall.” He stood. “I must tell her.”

  “You’ll need a letter from me excusing you from the Baron’s employ.”

  “Yes, you’re quite right. He might not let me go otherwise.”

  Duncan came around the desk and put an arm on his shoulder. “Mr. Holmes.”

  “Whitman,” Newton corrected.

  “Newton,” Duncan said with a smile. “You could start your own business in Clear Creek. You wouldn’t have to answer to your grandfather’s every whim anymore. I can tell you’re tired of doing so.”

  Newton gave a slow nod. “Yes, though I was beginning to see a future there as well. But one has to do whatever it takes …”

  “And you will on this journey, I’m sure. Protect your sister, see that she arrives safely, then see her married. After that, the world is yours.”

  Newton stared at him as a shiver went up his spine. He’d never had the freedom to think such a thing, let alone do anything about it. He took a deep breath and held out his hand to the Duke. “Thank you, Your Grace. You are most kind.”

  Duncan smiled. “Remember that when you meet Mrs. Dunnigan, won’t you?”

  “Mrs. Dunnigan?”

  “She and her husband Wilfred own the town mercantile.”

  Newton raised one eyebrow in curiosity.

  “Let me put it this way … if Napoleon had had Irene Dunnigan on his side, the battle of Waterloo might have turned out differently.”

  Newton’s other brow went up. “I shall steer clear of her, then.”

  “No way to do so in a small town. Just bear in mind that she’s more bark than bite.” He patted Newton on the back. “I’ll make all the arrangements. You’ll not have to worry about a thing.”

  Newton nodded numbly as the Duke steered him toward the double doors of his office. He still had plenty to worry about. Like, how was he going to tell his sister?

  One

  Clear Creek, Oregon, August 1861

  “They hate us.”

  Newton sat on the bed next to Nettie and put his arm around her shoulders. “They do not hate us. You’re being silly.”

  “They’ve not spoken to us since our arrival.”

  “Which was only a few days ago.” He turned her to face him. “You must give them a chance. Just like we’ve had to give everyone else.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “And everyone else hates us too.”

  Newton sighed and shook his head in resignation. “If you persist in this nonsense, dear sister, I shall … shall …”

  “What, turn me over your knee?” she asked, bemused. “I’m afraid I’m too old for that.”

  “Send you to bed without dinner, then?” he teased.

  “Or send me back to England where I will have to face marriage to some doddering old fool.”

  “That’s why we’re here, remember?” He put his arm around her again. “The Duke trusts his brothers, so why shouldn’t we? They’re just giving us time to settle in, that’s all. We’ve had a long journey, and both of us have been asleep for the better part of two days. Let’s face it, we wouldn’t have been very good company.”

  She had to smile at that. The journey “around the horn” to Oregon had been exhausting. But at least it was better than traveling cross-country. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally conceded.

  “Why don’t we go downstairs and see if that Mrs. Upton can supply us with a pot of tea? I think a cup would do us both good, don’t you?”

  “I suppose. A few of her cookies would do me good as well.”

  “A few of Mrs. Upton’s anything would do us well. That woman’s cooking is fantastic.” He stood and pulled Nettie up with him. “To the kitchen then, shall we?”

  She smiled, took the arm he offered her and together they left her room.

  He’d come to check on her again. It was a growing occurrence of late, and Nettie knew he was worried about her. But the absence of the Cooke family since their arrival had given her pause, and she wondered if they were plotting against them, trying to figure out how they could get rid of she and her brother. Just as the old Baron had tried to do …

  “Good morning,” came a voice from the bottom of the stairs.

  Nettie took note of the young woman smiling up at them from the first step. It was Mrs. Jones – Eloise Sayer Jones, to be exact, one of Nettie and Newton’s distant cousins. Sayer was the name Nettie had known her by in London – had heard of her, anyway. She’d never actually met the woman until yesterday. “Good morning,” Nettie said to be polite.

  “Mrs. Upton put out some morning tea for all of us,” Eloise said. “Isn’t that nice of her?”

  “Quite,” Newton agreed as they descended the remaining stairs. “I was just telling my sister that a spot of tea would be welcome about now.”

  “Well, then, isn’t it lucky Mrs. Upton loves to serve morning and afternoon tea?” Eloise said with a bright smile. “Of course, Mrs. Upton simply likes to serve. She’s not particular about what.”

  Newton chuckled at the remark. Nettie didn’t. Maybe after she’d had some tea and cookies she’d feel better about their situation. They were, after all, in this predicament because of her. She might as well make the best of it – and, she supposed, the sooner the better. “I’ve known very few women who take pleasure in serving others,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “Oh? Are you referring to servants or people in general?” Eloise asked.

  “Either, but particularly servants.”

  “Mrs. Upton’s not a servant,” Eloise pointed out. “She’s an employee of Mr. Van Cleet who owns the hotel, as are my husband and myself. But I must say, I do find satisfaction in the work.”

  “In changing other people’s bedsheets and washing them? In picking up after they’ve left?” Nettie asked, her voice flat. Newton put a hand on hers and squeezed, whether in warning or reassurance she neither knew nor cared. What she did know was that she’d better get a hold of herself before she got into trouble.

  “I enjoy helping others and that’s what I consider this work to be,” Eloise told her. “Even if it does involve changing beds and washing the sheets.”

 
; “Do you get many guests at this hotel?” Newton asked. “I daresay I’ve not seen one since we’ve been here.”

  “Not many, not yet anyway. But we will, you’ll see.” Eloise looked at Nettie. “And at that point we’re going to need more help, if you’re interested in a job.”

  Nettie swallowed hard and looked away. “I suppose that depends on if I’m married or not. I’ll need a job if I can’t find someone to do the deed.”

  Newton chuckled. “‘Do the deed’? You don’t have to make it sound so dire. You’re a charming, beautiful woman, dear sister.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Why can’t you see it?”

  She closed her eyes and turned away. When she opened them again she straightened her shoulders and looked at Eloise. “Tea?” She detached herself from Newton and cut across the front lobby to the double doors of the hotel’s dining room.

  “She’s angry,” Eloise observed.

  “No – frightened,” Newton corrected as he took off after his sister.

  Eloise sighed and followed. By the time she entered the dining room, Nettie was already seated at a table near a tea cart.

  “I’ve made molasses cookies today!” Mrs. Upton announced with a wide smile. “I hope ya enjoy them! When ya have time, honey, I’ll show ya how I make them.”

  Nettie smiled at her but said nothing.

  Newton waited until Eloise took a seat, then sat himself. “I’m sure they’ll be as wonderful as everything else we’ve tasted of yours, Mrs. Upton. Your culinary skills are truly magnificent.”

  Mrs. Upton blushed furiously and began to pour the tea. “Talk like that’ll get you married around here, honey!”

  Nettie’s eyes widened at the statement. She looked at Mrs. Upton, then at her brother. “Are there other women here in town?”

  “Single women, ya mean?” Mrs. Upton asked. “Well, I’m it except for maybe Eloise’s cousin Imogene.”

  “Ah yes, Imogene,” Newton said quietly. “A force to be reckoned with, that one. Our grandfather the Baron said she’s always been like that.”