The Judge's Daughter (Escape To The West Book 7) Read online

  Escape to the West

  Book 7

  The

  Judge’s

  Daughter

  Nerys Leigh

  ESCAPE TO THE WEST BOOK 7:

  THE JUDGE’S DAUGHTER

  Copyright: Nerys Leigh

  Published: 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted, without written permission from the author. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

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  Prologue

  June, 1870.

  Steam puffed across the station, the clatter of coal being shoveled into the engine’s firebox carrying to where George Parsons watched Millicent give Amy a warm hug.

  It was good to see how close the two of them had become in the two weeks Millie had been in Green Hill Creek. George was sure it had helped Amy recover once and for all from what had happened to her while in the employ of Millicent’s husband. Well, that and being married to Adam, which seemed to be doing both of them a world of good, judging by how happy they were.

  Even though it had been more than twenty-five years, George still remembered what it was like to be a young newlywed deeply in love with his wife, his whole future lying ahead of him. In four years of marriage, he hadn’t stopped feeling that way, until the moment the doctor walked from their bedroom, his expression grim.

  But he’d still held onto hope, right up until Doc Graham said, “I’m so sorry, George. I couldn’t save her.”

  And even then he hadn’t been able to grasp the words, had run into the room, thrown himself to his knees beside the bed where Clementine lay, grasped her still hand, begged her to open her eyes.

  He would have given up right then and there, his heart dying with his beloved wife, if Zach hadn’t started crying in his crib. If Mrs. Jones hadn’t picked him up and tried to comfort him and brought him to George when she failed. If his tiny, four-day-old son hadn’t reached out to him, a shock of vibrant red hair the exact same color as Clem’s lying across his forehead, and given him a reason to go on living.

  But still, in all the time since, he’d never looked at another woman the way he’d looked at Clementine.

  Until Millicent.

  Until that moment in the makeshift courtroom at the hotel when she’d walked to the front to give her testimony to the judge, spoken up in defense of Amy, and somehow stolen his heart.

  It had taken him completely by surprise. He’d fully intended to live the rest of his days alone. It wasn’t as if he was lonely. He had Zach, his friends, and now Amy who he loved like a daughter.

  He was fifty-one, too old for silly romantic feelings.

  Until now.

  He didn’t even have to think about smiling when Millie released Amy and turned to him. It just happened.

  She was beautiful, refined, cultured and rich. Lived in the big city of New York. They were opposites in every way. He wouldn’t have ever thought a woman like her would give him a second glance.

  And yet, she’d given him more than that.

  The past two weeks had filled him with a new kind of happiness he didn’t think he’d ever know again. They’d spent many blissful days in each other’s company. Of course, it never went beyond friendship. Millicent was, after all, still married to her degenerate husband, although that would change soon. But George felt so much more for her than just friendship, and he was almost sure she felt the same about him.

  Almost.

  Millie looked up at him, her smile seeming a little shaky. “I’m going to miss our time together. I’ve had more fun this past two weeks than I ever had in eight years of marriage.”

  He fisted his hands to stop himself from taking hers. “I’m going to miss you too.”

  Hold on, she hadn’t actually said she’d miss him. Would she miss him?

  Her eyes lowered to his chest. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but what with the divorce and selling the house and Franklin’s trial and everything...”

  “I understand.” He did understand. He didn’t like it, but he understood. He took a deep breath in and out. He had to do this now. “Millie, I know you have everything you could want in New York, and I know I have hardly anything to offer...”

  Somewhere along the platform, the conductor yelled, “All aboard!”

  George’s heart raced. It was now or never. “Millie, would you ever consider...”

  Pushing up onto her toes, she kissed his cheek, and whispered into his ear, “Yes.”

  Then with one last smile, she turned to board the train. She appeared at a window a few seconds later and waved to him as they pulled off.

  He continued to wave back until the chugging metal behemoth was out of sight.

  Amy’s arm slipped around his. “You all right?”

  Millie’s ‘yes’ repeated over and over in his mind as he stared after the train. “I think I will be.”

  ~ ~ ~

  One month later.

  “Letter came for you,” Amy said, handing George an envelope as she walked into the livery.

  One advantage of Amy being married to the postmaster was that he never had to pick up his own mail.

  He took the envelope and dropped it onto the table by the door. He’d look at it later, when he wasn’t so busy. With all the business he was getting nowadays, even reading a letter took up too much time. He really needed to hire some more help.

  “It’s postmarked New York,” she said with a knowing smile.

  George’s heart leaped. He grabbed up the envelope again, pausing in the act of tearing it open when he noticed Amy staring at him.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you have work to do, girl?”

  She held up her hands. “Okay, I’m going. But I want to know everything.”

  As she walked towards the back door, he pulled out the letter. It wasn’t the first he’d received from Millie, but it nevertheless filled him with excitement. Back before he met Millie, he would have scoffed at himself for it. But a lot could change in two months.

  Lowering onto the chair he kept at the table, he unfolded the pages.

  Dear George,

  I am a free woman! It took longer than expected, certainly longer than it should have considering Franklin’s current (and hopefully extended) state of incarceration, but the divorce finally went through.

  There was a lot of legal wrangling about money, namely he wanted it, and despite my father’s best efforts he did end up with more than he deserved, but I’m just glad it’s all over. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I admit, I did shed some tears, not over losing him, I hasten to say, but over how I’d expected at the start for it to be so different. But I’m a wiser woman now than I was at thirty-eight. Oh, that made me laugh! It just shows that no matter how old you are, there is always something to learn.

  Now that’s all over, Staveley House has gone up for sale, and my father has already found a buyer who will hopefully take on the s
taff too. I would hate for them to lose their jobs. Thanks to my father’s foresight, Franklin never had any claim to the house, but I have no desire to keep it. Too many unhappy memories. I was barely spending any time there anyway.

  My main reason for writing is to ask if, now that all the unpleasantness is over, you would possibly like to come to New York for a visit? I know it’s a great undertaking and that you’d have to ensure there were people to take care of the livery (although I know Amy and Zach are more than capable), but my parents would very much like to meet the man their daughter can’t stop talking about! And I’d love to show you around. I would, of course, pay for the train ticket.

  I look forward to your reply.

  Fondest regards,

  Millie

  P.S. I do hope you will say yes. I miss you.

  George read the letter again. And then a third time. Visit New York. It was a ridiculous notion. It would take so much preparation. Amy and Zach could look after the livery, but he’d definitely have to hire more help for them, at least for the time he’d be away. That would likely be going on for a month, with the journey alone taking a week each way.

  He’d pay for his own ticket, of course. He had enough to do that now.

  A trip to New York. He hadn’t been out of California in all the time since he’d traveled there with Clementine from their hometown of Charlotte, two years after they married. What would they even think of him in the city? Would Millie’s parents approve of a man who owned a livery on the other side of the country and spent most of his days smelling of horses? How would he even begin to convince them to let him court their daughter?

  Then his eyes strayed to the post script yet again, and he knew in his heart that he had to try.

  Millie missed him.

  Chapter 1

  New York was a city of noise, smells, grandeur, squalor, hustle, bustle, and so many people. And George could see all of that and more just from where he stood outside the train station.

  He’d seen several cities in his lifetime, but there was something different about New York, something about the sheer scale of the buildings and number of people hurrying about their business, that was both thrilling and daunting at the same time. He’d never experienced anything like it.

  He knew he probably looked like some country yokel in the big city for the first time, but he couldn’t help but stand and stare around him in awe. Millie lived among all this? No wonder she’d been so taken with the wide open space around Green Hill Creek. It must have felt literally like a breath of fresh air.

  He couldn’t help but wonder, however, if she could ever be content in his tiny, backwater town after being used to so much more. Maybe he was fooling himself by hoping she would.

  Lord, am I doing the right thing?

  “Hey, mister, need any help with your bag?”

  He looked down, a familiar frown settling between his brows.

  Huge blue eyes stared up at him. The boy was no more than ten, a smirk beyond his years curling his mouth.

  “I reckon I can manage.”

  “Well then, need any directions? I know the city like the back of my hand. I can take you anywhere you want to go.” The boy’s gaze flicked down for a split second to somewhere behind George and back up again, his smile widening.

  George narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “Uh, yeah, school.” He looked uncertain for a moment, then brightened. “It’s canceled for the day. Teachers got sick. All of them. Real shame it is.” Again his eyes darted to a spot behind George’s legs.

  George shifted his leather bag into his left hand.

  The slightest of movements on his jacket was the only warning, but he was ready for it. Right hand whipping to his pocket, he grabbed the arm there and looked behind him.

  Terrified blue eyes even bigger than the boy’s stared up at him. The little girl couldn’t have been more than six.

  She tugged at her wrist, held tight in George’s hand. “Let me go!”

  Without releasing his grip, he carefully removed his wallet from her grasp. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by fists beating on his back.

  “Let my sister go!”

  George shuffled around so he could face both children. “Hey now, stop that. You tried to rob me. Ain’t no call to be treating me like I’m the one in the wrong.”

  The boy’s gaze darted around them. He clearly wanted to run but was reluctant to abandon his sister.

  Their clothing, although clean, was much repaired and a touch too small, and George couldn’t help but think of Amy at their age, living on the streets of the huge city.

  He crouched down to bring himself to their level. “Where’s your ma and pa?”

  The girl stopped struggling. “You talk funny.”

  “Well, where I’m from you’d be the one talking funny.”

  “Where are you from?” the boy asked, putting his arm protectively around his little sister’s thin shoulders.

  “Out west. California.”

  His eyes widened as he looked at George’s hat. “Are you a cowboy? Have you met any Indians?”

  “No, I’m not a cowboy, although I was for a while, when I was younger. And yes, I’ve met Indians.”

  “Did they try to scalp you?” the little girl asked.

  “Not that I noticed. Most of them are decent folks, just like you and me.” The irony of that statement to the little thieves struck him. “Well, mostly.”

  The boy glanced around him. “Are you going to turn us in?”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “Mama’s out at work,” the girl said.

  “And your pa?”

  The boy shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

  George sighed. If he’d been back home he’d have taken them to Marshal Cade, but Amy had told him about her years growing up on the streets of New York and he had his doubts the authorities here would be as kind.

  He released the girl’s wrist. “No, I’m not going to turn you in.”

  As one, they pivoted to go.

  “Now hold on a minute.”

  To his surprise, instead of running they looked back at him.

  He opened his wallet and withdrew a few coins to hand to the boy. “Just give the thieving a rest for a few days and go and get yourselves something to eat.”

  The boy stared at the dollar fifty George had given him in shock. “We... we will. Thanks, mister.”

  And then they were gone, running through the crowd and disappearing from sight.

  “Please keep them safe, Lord,” George murmured as he straightened. In a small place like Green Hill Creek, folks would have helped them. Here, they and their mother would probably fall through the cracks of society, just like Amy had.

  Moving his bag back into his right hand, he looked around again. Was he in the right place? Millie’s instructions had been to go to the station’s west entrance and she would meet him there. He squinted up into the overcast sky, searching out a brighter area of cloud that would indicate the sun’s position. There it was, and yes, he was in the right place. Maybe he was early.

  He pushed his hand into his pocket to find his watch.

  “George!”

  The familiar voice made his heart leap and he turned to see Millie hurrying towards him, her face lit up in a wide smile. A responding smile immediately stretched his cheeks. He wasn’t usually one for smiling often, but with Millie it just came naturally.

  She came to a halt in front of him and for a few seconds they simply stared at each other. It wasn’t often that he was lost for words, but he suddenly couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  She wore a pale blue dress that matched her eyes and complemented her light brown hair, and somehow she seemed to have gotten even prettier since he’d seen her last. Was that even possible? It had only been ten weeks.

  Her eyes flicked down for a moment, breaking the spell. “Have you been waiting long? I thought I was on time. I didn’t mean to make
you wait.”

  “I think the train was a mite early. I only just got here. I haven’t been waiting.” He hoped he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

  She clasped her hands together at her waist. “Well, um, that’s good.”

  There were a few more seconds of silence while he scrambled for something to say. What was wrong with him? Normally, he was the last person to get tongue-tied. But then it was a long time since a woman had affected him the way Millie did.

  She indicated along the street. “My carriage is just around the corner, if you’re ready to go?”

  “Sure. I, uh… yes.” He stifled a sigh. Perhaps there’d be a convenient wall on the way for him to bang his head against.

  “How was your journey?” she asked as they began walking.

  He wrenched his thoughts from wondering whether or not he should offer her his arm. “Long and uncomfortable,” he answered truthfully. “But I got to see a lot of the country, which was real nice.”

  “Did you have a room in the sleeper carriage?”

  He’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask that. Glancing away, he mumbled, “No.”

  “Pardon me? I didn’t hear you.”

  Sighing, he said, louder this time, “No, I didn’t.”

  She came to a halt, forcing him to stop or leave her behind. “Why ever not?”

  He didn’t reply. There was no way he was going to admit it was because he couldn’t afford the extra expense.

  At his silence, she huffed out a breath. “I offered to pay for your ticket.”

  “A man doesn’t let a lady pay for anything.”

  “I would have got you a private compartment.”

  “I know.”

  “I have plenty of money, and I’ll have even more when the house is sold.”

  “I know.”

  Shaking her head, she began walking again. “You’re impossible.”

  “I know.”

  She covered her mouth as she laughed, as if trying to hide her amusement, and he smiled. He’d missed her.