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  Gareth grinned and passed Sean a glass.

  “You did well, Sean,” he said warmly as he filled the glass. “Better than Amy and Philip’s, certainly. I still remember you fluffing up the words and getting things in the wrong order.”

  Sean cringed.

  “Don’t remind me of that. That was the first time I had ever married anyone.”

  That had Mary staring. She hadn’t realized.

  “Are you serious?” she squeaked.

  “I’m afraid I am.” Sean sighed. “All the couples here when I arrived were either married before coming to San Francisco or by my predecessor. Sheriff Anthony’s wedding was the first I’d ever done.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed,” Gareth drawled.

  Sean rolled his eyes.

  “Thank you for lying.”

  Then Mary spied Melissa. She was standing with Mary’s brother-in-law and his wife, talking to Mary’s niece. She looked exceptionally lovely in her pale yellow dress, her hair piled up on her head. Just the picture of elegance. Mary had been aware of Sean staring at Melissa a few times in the past few months when he thought no one was watching. She didn’t have to be a matchmaker to know they were made for each other. It was just a surprise that neither of them had made a move.

  “Speaking of marriages, Sean,” she said brightly, “When are you going to ask Melissa to marry you?”

  Sean’s smile started to fade. Gareth shifted in his seat, shooting a look at his wife.

  “Mary, not now,” he warned.

  “What? Gareth, we’re at a wedding. What better time to ask?”

  “I…” Sean cleared his throat. “I think Gareth’s right, Mary. Now’s not the best time.”

  Mary snorted.

  “Come off it, Sean. Melissa has been hanging around you since she arrived here. Why haven’t you said anything? She would jump at the chance to be Mrs. Foster.”

  Mary had never seen Sean look as serious as he did right then. His eyes narrowed, his mouth hardened into a thin line. He wasn’t happy at all. Had she overstepped herself?

  “I have my reasons, Mrs. Stanier,” Sean said in a low voice.

  Gareth winced.

  “Careful, Mary. If he’s addressing you formally, you’re in trouble.”

  Mary didn’t need her husband to tell her that. Now she was beginning to wish she hadn’t said anything. Sean sat forward, an eyebrow twitching a little.

  “Now I see what the other men mean about you, Mary. Sweet as pie, but very persistent.”

  Mary took a deep breath, cuddling Liam closer.

  “I asked for these women, my friends, to come out here to become wives. To give them a better life,” she said. “And I said I would match all of them. Melissa is the only one left.”

  Sean grunted.

  “Don’t expect anything to happen soon. Putting two people in the same room is one thing but getting them to say anything is something else.” He sighed and stood. “Sometimes, it’s best just to leave things alone.”

  Mary stared after him as the pastor walked away. That was strange, very strange.

  Gareth looked just as confused as they watched Sean approach Bryony and Lee, shaking Lee by the hand before kissing Bryony’s cheek. He didn’t look like he had been angry a moment ago.

  “What was all that about?” Gareth asked.

  “I don’t know. But that didn’t sound good.” Mary felt Liam start to wriggle and make noises. “I’d better get Liam back to Bryony.”

  “Here, let me take him.” Gareth finished his drink and stood, holding out his arms. “I don’t think Sean wants to be anywhere near you right now.”

  That sounded like a better idea. Mary passed Liam across, trying not to melt with the sight of Gareth holding the month-old baby in his arms like he had been doing it all his life. She touched his arm.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gareth looked at his wife and smiled.

  “You’re impossible, Mary. But I love you anyway.”

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  “It just feels so hard today getting back to work without Father here.” Estelle, the youngest of the three Crabtree sisters, was close to tears again.

  “I know it’s hard, Estelle, but the farm has been untended for so many days already,” Belle Crabtree said and placed a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Alright, one more cup of coffee, and then we get to it, girls, okay?”

  “Yes, alright,” Joanna said as she reached across the large round wooden table to take Estelle’s hand. “I’m sorry, Estelle, but Belle is right. We have to keep going, just as Father said we should. And you’ve done real well so far. You’ve helped to milk the cows every day since he passed and he would have been so proud of you.”

  As Belle, the eldest of the sisters, set about making them another cup of coffee, she blinked hard to hide the tears, which seemed to be only just below the surface recently.

  It hadn’t yet been two weeks since their father, Jack Crabtree, died, and only two days since they buried him. In all that time, the only thing that the girls had kept on top of at Crabtree farm was the feeding of the animals and the milking of their small herd of eight cows. After all, it wasn’t exactly something that could be left for another day.

  In many ways, Belle had welcomed the daily routine of having to care for the little group of cows. After so much pain and anguish, looking after the herd had seemed to provide a much-needed normality in her life. She had clearly seen how the occupation had kept Estelle, the most sensitive of the three, from crumbling altogether. It had held her attention and kept her in the here and now, if only for a little while.

  As much as the farm needed to be tended, Belle was more determined that the other girls get back to work fully and find some sort of peace. They needed life to have that certain flow again, and for all three of them to settle into it.

  “I know Father would have wanted us to keep going, I know he said as much, but I can’t help thinking that we’re just carrying on as if he was never here,” Estelle said tearfully.

  “But don’t you see? Keeping Father’s farm going is keeping his memory alive,” Belle said with passion. “He started Crabtree Farm up from nothing and we have to make it work.”

  “You always have such a firm way of looking at things, Belle, and it really is a comfort to me.” Estelle sniffed loudly, and Joanna searched the pocket of her long skirt for a handkerchief to give to her sister.

  “Here, drink this down.” Belle settled the three mugs of coffee down on the table and relaxed into her seat.

  She looked at her beautiful sisters, at just nineteen and twenty-years-old, and felt the sudden weight of responsibility. Belle was the head of the household now, whether she liked it or not, and she had promised her father faithfully that she would do everything in her power to keep the farm going and her sisters safe.

  Crabtree Farm had been a success for as long as Belle could remember. Her first recollections of the place as a little girl was of a thriving little farm doing a good trade in grain and wheat, seasonal vegetables, and milk. Jack Crabtree had set it up that way, not choosing to be a farmer of any particular kind, but rather choosing to do a little bit of everything. He had told Belle more than once over the years that he’d always seen diversity as the best means of providing safety. Sure, he wasn’t going to be the most successful crop farmer or dairy farmer in town, but if the wheat ever failed for some reason or other, he would have his vegetables and milk to fall back on. It was his way of making sure that his family would always be well provided for.

  “I do worry about some of t
he heavier stuff, girls,” Estelle went on, but Belle didn’t mind.

  It was as if Estelle had to voice each and every one of her fears before she could keep going, and if that was what was going to help her, it was just fine by Belle.

  “I know it might take all three of us to attach a plow, but we can do it. We’ve been doing it, haven’t we?” Belle said gently.

  “Yes, just as Father taught us, the three of us working together,” Joanna said, and Belle was pleased to have some help in trying to keep Estelle’s spirits up.

  “I know, I know,” Estelle said miserably. “I guess I’m just scared altogether and I don’t really know which thing is scaring me the most. Maybe it’s just everything.”

  “That’s understandable, Estelle. We, none of us, expected Father to take ill so suddenly and die so soon, and it really is hard to take it all in, let alone keep moving forward, keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Belle sipped the scalding hot coffee and winced at its intentional bitterness.

  The last days had drained her utterly, and she felt exhausted to the point that she hardly recognized herself. But Belle did not want her sisters to see it, she needed to keep going. If strong coffee was what was needed, then strong coffee it was.

  “Well, maybe we should think about hiring someone,” Joanna said tentatively. “We have the money to do it, after all.”

  “Let’s give it a while and see how we get along with it,” Belle said quietly and nodded. “There’s still three of us and the farm isn’t unmanageable, is it?”

  “I know Father didn’t have to hire anybody, but he had the three of us. Please promise me you will think about it if we start to struggle,” Joanna went on and Estelle seemed to have drifted off altogether.

  It was as if the youngest Crabtree sister could not focus on anything but her own fears. Belle and Joanna would simply have to contemplate the practicalities without her.

  “I just think that we should be mindful of what Father said before he died,” Belle said and took another sip of the coffee to stave off the wave of exhaustion.

  “Do you really think the men of Turners Ridge will be circling us now that Father isn’t here?” Joanna spoke in a near whisper, as if she did not want to upset Estelle any further.

  “I don’t think there’ll be so many, but this is a thriving farm and I would be surprised if at least one or two of the men of Turners Ridge isn’t thinking about getting his feet under the table here. Father just said to be on the lookout for protectors and romancers.”

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  About the Author

  About the Authors

  Indiana Wake was born in Denver Colorado where she learned to love the outdoors and horses. At the age of eleven, her parents moved to the United Kingdom to follow her father’s career.

  It was a strange and foreign new world and it took a while for her to settle down. Her mom raised horses and Indiana soon learned to ride. She would often escape on horseback imagining she was back in the Wild West. As well as horses, Indiana escaped into fiction and dreamed of all the friends she had left behind.

  From an early age, she loved stories. They were always sweet and clean and more often than not, included horses, cowboys and most importantly of all a happy ever after. As she got older, she would often be found making up her own stories and would tell them to anyone who would listen.

  As she grew up, she continued to write but marriage and a job stole some of her dreams. Then one day she was discussing with a friend at church, how hard it was to get sweet and clean fiction. Though very shy about her writing Indiana agreed to share one of her stories. That friend loved the story and suggested she publish it on kindle. Together they worked really hard and the rest, as they say, is history.

  Indiana has had multiple number one bestsellers and now makes her living from her writing. She believes she was truly blessed to be given this opportunity and thanks each and every one of her readers for making her dream come true.

  Belle Fiffer is not your ordinary girl. She grew up in the west where she loved to ride horses and walk in the wilds. At fifteen, she moved to England when her father’s job took him across the pond. Leaving behind all her friends she lost herself in books and if she is honest she fell in love with food. She is not ashamed of her curves and loves stories about good, honest men that love their women on the large side.

  As a committed Christian, her books are clean, sweet and inspirational. Belle hopes you enjoy the books and would love to hear from you.

  To hear about new releases or bonus content from Belle and other authors of clean, sweet, romance join her newsletter at Fair Havens Publishing http://eepurl.com/dn60gf

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  Thank you so much for reading this book. We both love to write and to share our stories with you and hear your wonderful comments gives us great pleasure. Until our next adventure keep well my friend xx

  ©Copyright 2018 Indiana Wake

  All Rights Reserved

  Indiana Wake

  License Notes

  This e-Book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you wish to share this book, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and it was not purchased then, you should purchase your own copy. Your continued respect for author's rights is appreciated.

  This story is a work of fiction any resemblance to people is purely coincidence. All places, names, events, businesses, etc. are used in a fictional manner. All characters are from the imagination of the author.

 

 

 
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