Her Secret Past (Black Hills Brides Book 1) Read online

  Her Secret Past

  The Black Hills Brides

  Book One

  Coming Soon From

  Christine Sterling

  Her Secret Baby

  (Black Hills Brides #2)

  Spring 2018

  Her Secret Shame

  (Black Hills Brides #3)

  Spring 2018

  Her Secret Love

  (Black Hills Brides #4)

  Fall 2018

  Wanted: Medicine Man

  (Silverpines Series)

  Spring 2018

  Elenore

  (Heart of Gold Brides #1)

  Summer 2018

  Wanted: Gravedigger

  (Silverpines Series)

  Autumn 2018

  Victoria

  (Heart of Gold Brides #2)

  Winter 2018

  Her Secret Past

  Black Hills Brides

  Book #1

  Christine Sterling

  Her Secret Past

  This work is a book of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved with the exceptions of quotes used in reviews. This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or part by any means without written permission from the author.

  Her Secret Past. ©2017 Christine Sterling

  Cover Art: HotDamn Stock Photography, Pixabay

  Acknowledgments

  To the Pioneer Hearts Authors Group - Thank you for being a wealth of information and support.

  To my daughters – Rebecca, Nora & Elizabeth, I am so proud of the women you have become, and I appreciate you reading my words and telling me where to tweak when necessary.

  To Debbie White, my dear friend, who read the rough draft and caught a bunch of things I missed in the midnight writing ramble. You are amazing, sister!

  To my husband, Dan, for being my hero, protector, and partner. I love you.

  Thank you, my dear Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for all the blessings in my life. You spoil me and I’m eternally grateful you call me daughter.

  For Gigi

  Thank you for giving my first romance novel: Notorious (A Second Chance at Love novel) by Karen Keast in 1985. It started me down a long road of romance stories.

  I know you are smiling from heaven. I miss you every single day.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 1

  “I have an idea,” said Colin Sullivan as he rushed into the room. Patrick “Pat” Walsh looked up from his book and stared at the older gentleman. It was 5’o clock in the afternoon, the time when Colin would come to the hospital and deliver news of the day. He held out the paper, pointing to the top of the page. “It’s here. I’m surprised I hadn’t thought about it.”

  Pat grabbed his glasses and stared at what his old friend was pointing to. It was an advertisement.

  Bride Wanted for Dirt Farmer

  The ideal woman knows how to cook and clean.

  Will help with farm chores. Include picture.

  Apply in writing to S. Jenkins

  Black Hills, Illinois

  “What do you think?” Colin asked Pat.

  Pat looked at the advertisement with skepticism. “I don’t know about this.”

  Colin sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I know, it’s not ideal, but it’s the best situation. She can move out west, where she is safe, and no one will know who she is or where she came from.”

  Pat still thought about it hesitantly. He had weighed many other options, but none of them gave him the peace of mind of knowing she would be in good hands. “I guess we have nothing to lose.”

  Colin nodded his head. “I’ll draft up the papers.”

  Pat saw is best friend exit the room swiftly and thought about his next obstacle: convincing his stubborn daughter this was the best option for her, without revealing the real reason for her leaving.

  Two weeks prior

  Samantha O’Donnell stood on the edge of the grass field, fidgeting with her lace gloves. She was staring off into the distance, trying to compose herself as best as she could. She took a deep breath and held the tears at bay. How would she ever live without him? Looking over at the large mound of dirt a few feet away, she sighed. She felt a terrible pit in her stomach and wondered how she ended up standing here.

  One week ago, she and her husband were watching a local show. He held her hand as he laughed at the sight on the stage before him; she remembered the warmth of his touch as he led her out of the theater.

  The first time she met Seamus O’Donnell was at a party at her father’s good friend Colin’s house. Her father had brought him straight to her and introduced him excitedly. She wasn’t naive; she knew that it was not coincidental that her father had brought James, as he had sheepishly told her to call him, to meet her. Her father had been huffing and hollering that a woman of her stature and age should be married. She had dismissed his assertions at first; she enjoyed her studies and was in no rush to become shackled to someone she knew she wouldn’t fancy. Love was not something she felt was attainable. She was practical, and love was not practical. It made fools of folks eventually, as it did her mother and she wasn’t about to let the sickness happen to her.

  So, when her father bought her a new dress and instructed her to attend this social gathering, for the sake of his best friend, whom she adored and dubbed, Uncle Colin, she should have known something was amiss. She stared up at James, with his blond hair and high cheek bones, already apprehensive and guarded, wondering of his agenda. But he smiled kindly at her, took her hand, and kissed it, as a gentleman would. He exclaimed how her beauty was more breathtaking than he had imagined, and he had heard so many wonderful things about her. She looked past him at her father and Uncle Colin, both smiling and realized she had been set up. At that moment, she wanted to murder them both; but James was so nice to her. She felt the need to humor him, at least for the moment.

  They talked about the weather, his business, and her studies. He was interested in everything she told him and he had the most refreshing sense of humor. She had lost track of time and soon he was walking her home. At her doorway, he held her hand and asked her in the sincerest voice, if she was available for him to see again. She weighed her options in her head. It would be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy his company; on the contrary, she found herself wishing time would stop. She could do a lot worse than the man standing in front of her. And if the two friends who were thick as thieves were going to meddle, she would rather have this companion than any other. So she smiled shyly and said she would love to see him again.

  They courted for a few months, and with each passing day, she grew fonder of him. He was nice and thoughtful and he absolutely adored her. Therefore, it came to no surprise to her when he asked her father for permission to ask her to marry him. Her father was gleeful and had to do his best to hide his overt happiness, much to her chagrin. Of course, he said yes and soon the decision rested on her shoulders. She knew she didn’t love him; she didn’t have butterflies flittering in her stomach nor did she feel any charge of electricity when he was around. Still, she thought helplessly, she wanted so much to give her father peace of mind. James would make a lovely husband
and she could maintain her life without too much of a disturbance.

  Samantha smiled and said yes. They married in a small ceremony and they were happy. She felt with time, she could grow to love him and with each passing day, she felt she was getting closer. And then that fateful night came. They had just returned from a lovely dinner with friends and as James was putting his coat away, their maid, Misty, came into the foyer of their entryway.

  “Sir, there is a message for you from a Mr. Tolbert. There seems to be trouble in the factory,” she said, holding a piece of paper for James to see.

  He took the paper, placing his hand on his forehead as he read the note. His brow furrowed, and he sighed. “It seems that there is a manufacturing problem. I’ll need to go and see the issue.” James went to grab his coat.

  Samantha grabbed his arm. “It’s so late though, can’t this wait until morning?” she pleaded, her slender fingertips grasping at the cloth of his forearm.

  James chuckled and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Don’t worry, my love. The factory is not a far walk from here. I’ll be back before you know it,” he said with a wink, as he shrugged is coat back on and walked to the doorway. Before he left he turned and waved goodbye, smiling as the door closed behind him.

  That would be the last time she saw him. She awoke to a strong knock on the door, and realizing her husband was not in bed with her, she dashed to the sound. She cared not about modesty as she opened the door in nothing but her dressing gown. There was a policeman standing there with a solemn expression on his face, as he took her state in and removed his hat. “Mrs. O’Donnell, I have some terrible news….”

  Samantha wiped the dangling tear from her cheek as she remembered the feeling of helplessness as the poor police officer told her how her husband was found dead in his office, with a fatal knife wound in his chest. She kept her composure with the policeman long enough to ask if they had found a Mr. Tolbert; the policeman shook his head, stating he had been found alone and when she pressed on, they did not know of any reason why he was there in the first place. There was no factory issue, no other members of his team in the building. The paper she stated her husband had, with the note of the issue on it, was not found in his possession, nor was it located in the room. The more time passed, the more she felt it was all a distant memory and maybe she had dreamed her husband leaving for the issue in the first place.

  It just didn’t seem real. Maybe if she waited long enough, James would appear next to her, hold her hand and make her laugh like he always did. Instead, another figure walked up beside her and a chill went down her spine. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that Dirk O’Donnell had stepped up beside her. He looked so much like a younger version of his brother, it was uncanny. Although they looked so much alike, their personalities were night and day. He removed his hat and whispered “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a great man.”

  The contempt in his voice was thinly veiled. She set her hands in front of her and looked towards the sky. “I should be saying the same for you. Your brother loved you very much.”

  Dirk laughed. “I don’t know if that was true. He seemed to show contempt for me in every meeting we had.”

  Samantha sighed to herself. She never once inquired about the relationship between her husband and his brother, but she knew that it was not a happy one. James had lamented on many an occasion about how his brother couldn’t hold a steady job and would spend his money on liquor, gambling, and women. They seemed to fight constantly, and in one exchange in their house after a long day of work for her husband, James had told her brother not to expect anything from him. He had done enough for him and wasn’t going to give him any more money. Dirk was very angry and yelled how James would regret it.

  Samantha let out an exasperated sigh. “My husband is dead Dirk. Your brother.” She twisted her head to look at him “Please, let him rest in peace.”

  He shook his head. “Your husband was no saint. Only I knew him in that way, in a way he shielded from you. He was nothing but selfish. When I needed him, he wasn’t there!” he shouted. Samantha looked over at a few onlookers, stragglers from the funeral, staring at them with curiosity.

  She reached over and grabbed his hand, which she hoped would sooth his anger. “You may think that, but he cared so much about you. He wouldn’t want you to keep this anger. Let it go.”

  Dirk placed his other hand over hers “It will be over when I say it is.”

  The anger and possessiveness in his eyes scared Samantha. She withdrew her hand quickly. Before long, more people joined them, each offering their condolences. When she looked up again to give a reassuring smile to Dirk she noticed he was already gone, like he had merged into the shadows of the cemetery.

  Chapter 2

  Seth Jenkins stared at the envelope between his calloused fingers, wondering what it held inside. The return address was from Philadelphia and the paper was sturdy and tinted gold. It weighed heavy in his hands and he didn’t know what to do. When he had put the ad in the paper, at his partner and best friend Tom’s urging, he really didn’t think that he would get a response, much less a letter so quickly after he had put it in the paper.

  In anticipation, he tore open the envelope and retrieved the letter in thick parchment and a faded picture. He stared at the picture first. It was of a woman. She was young, most likely in her mid-twenties. She had long dark hair piled in a bun on top her head. Her face was round and she had full lips. Seth marveled at her beauty; he had never seen someone so pretty. Definitely not from around these parts. He unfolded the parchment and read the letter. It was written on behalf of a Patrick Walsh, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. His daughter, Samantha O’Donnell, was interested in a marriage. Per the letter, as he read further down the page, she was a widow and was in a bad situation. The letter didn’t say much about the situation, just that the girl needed a bit of change of scenery and if Seth would oblige, they could make a happy couple.

  As a sign of good faith, the man was willing to deposit $5,000, to be released when they are married. He asked for Seth’s consideration and would wait for his reply. Seth scratched his forehead and looked at the picture of the young lady again. She was gorgeous; he couldn’t understand how a woman who looked like that would have any trouble finding a husband, as a widow or not. Something was amiss.

  While she was a better prospect than what he usually had around him, something didn’t seem right. He placed the letter and picture back into the envelope and stuffed it in his pocket. He would take a few days to think it over. The $5,000 was a mighty tempting offer. It would allow him to purchase seed for the farm and a new work horse, as well as build a new barn. She was easy on the eyes. For most men, it would be an easy decision. But he wasn’t most men.

  As he exited the post office deep in these thoughts, Maggie Kelly ran right into him. It was more of a stumble as Seth steadied her by grasping her shoulders. Maggie had short blonde hair she tied in a blue bow and was wearing a plain blue dress. She looked up at him sweetly and he knew this was no accident.

  “Oh my, Seth, how clumsy of me!” she explained as she pawed at his chest. She batted her eyes and exposed her straight white teeth “I would have landed flat on my face if you weren’t there to catch me.”

  Seth wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained because although Maggie was very aggressive, she was still a lady and still deserved respect. “Yes, it’s good that I was here.” He set her back with a slight push and started to walk away.

  He took only two steps before Maggie had grasped his arm. “Don’t go yet! Maybe you can walk me to the general store?”

  Seth inwardly groaned. He could hear Tom’s voice in his head. This is what you get for giving these women the time of day.

  Seth gave her a side-eyed glance. “Maggie, it’s only a few streets away and it’s still daylight. I think you’ll be fine.” he continued to walk away as Maggie pouted.

  “But I would like a strong man to lead the way!” she yelled after
him.

  Seth continued to his horse and decided that no matter the cause unless he wanted clingy girls like Maggie to be his forever, he needed to write a reply letter to this Mr. Walsh before he changed his mind.

  “Why hello daring! What a nice surprise!” Pat Walsh exclaimed as his daughter Samantha entered the hospital room. He lifted his body from the bed to try to get to her, the springs creaking under him, but he was having trouble.

  Samantha rushed over to his side, putting her hands up to stop him. “Father, don't get up.” She grabbed his hand, which he took up to his lips and kissed. “You shouldn’t exert yourself.”

  She was still standing over him, so he put his hand and cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend the funeral. I wish I could have been there for you.” Her father’s health had been deteriorating in the past few years. He had a bad heart; she always thought it broke after her mother died. But a few weeks ago, he had collapsed suddenly and had been in the hospital ever since.

  She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, trying to find inner strength. She would not cry in front of her father; she had cried enough behind closed doors. “I understand Father. James would have understood too. I don’t want you to do too much that you aren’t ready for.”

  She sat in the wooden chair next to the bed, placing her feet under her. Her light purple dress swayed over the side of the chair. “Yes, but sweetheart, I wanted to be there for you. To support you.”

  She smiled. Her father was so supportive, always wanting to be there for her, especially in her mother’s absence. “I appreciate the thought, but I know you had extraneous circumstances.”