Traces of her Fugitive Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

Fall 1876

The scent of apples swimming in a syrup of brown sugar and cinnamon filled the crisp autumn air at Mia’s Lakeside Bakery. Nineteen-year-old Mia Turner brushed a strand of nutmeg-colored hair out of her eyes and rolled out the next crust. Mornings like this made her feel closer to Mama. Using her mother’s rolling pin and walking through the steps to make her mother’s secret recipe for apple pie, Mia could almost pretend that Mama would be stepping over any minute to slip an arm around her waist and say, “Nothing beats baking for the ones you love.”

Mama had been right, and now the loneliness and loss rose up before her so powerfully that Mia quickly began to sing, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” The words to her favorite hymn calmed her and helped her to refocus on her morning baking. The shop would open in an hour, and she needed a good day of sales if she was going to make the rent. 

Terry had told her he would cover it this month if she needed him to. While the generous offer tempted her, she knew she needed to put distance between herself and the charming young man who had been calling on her ever since Grandpa Victor passed away. “Beware the ones that are too charming, Mia, dear,” Grandma Alice had always warned.

Once she had the last of the pies in the oven, Mia moved around to set fresh checkered cloths and vases of flowers on the two tiny tables in the bakery. She picked up a newspaper left by one of yesterday’s patrons and perused it for a few moments. Not seeing anything notable in the news, she turned over to the want ads. She’d been searching for a few months now, truth be told. Opening the bakery had seemed exciting, and she loved putting her baking skills to use, but the reality of trying to support herself and build a business alone had turned out to be far more exhausting and far less lucrative than she had supposed. Perhaps she could get a position in the kitchen of a wealthy family. 

Mia scanned two positions for laundresses. She could do the backbreaking work if she had to, but she prayed it wouldn’t come to that. There was an ad for a scullery maid. Already, her hands were chapped from the dishes she washed to keep her small bakery open. The thought of spending her entire day bent over a sink of hot water and lye soap sounded like slavery. A position in a dressmaker’s shop sounded reasonable, but unfortunately, her sewing skills were mediocre at best. Then an unusual ad caught her eye:

 

Wanted: Single female in good health and of good moral character to be caretaker and companion for beloved but housebound older woman in failing health. Ability to cook and keep house strongly preferred. Patient and pleasant demeanor around suffering persons a must. Nursing experience not required, but helpful. Send replies to William Carson, Applewood, Colorado. 

 

Mia read over the words three times before tearing out the ad and pocketing it. Something about the way that William Carson had listed the woman to be cared for as “beloved” stirred her heart. It reminded her of Grandma Alice, who wasn’t really her grandmother at all. The elderly woman had not been able to do much anymore, but during the three final years of her life, she had poured so much truth and wisdom into Mia’s soul that the housework Mia had done for her had been more than amply repaid with the love and healing she’d found. 

But Colorado was a world away. The thought of leaving Chicago with her only remaining relatives, her dear little church, and her parents’ graves—it stung too much. Though weary of the struggle here, she couldn’t really think of any reason terrible enough to make her ever want to leave. 

***

Mia turned the sign to “closed” at four o’clock that afternoon and sighed with relief. She’d sold out of pies, and other than a gang of rowdy schoolboys, she’d enjoyed interacting with her customers and seeing their delighted faces as they sampled her fall offerings. 

A pounding on the door started her. Mia lifted the curtain to see Terry Rawlins and bit back a groan. 

“Open the door, Mia!” he demanded. 

Mia unlocked the door and opened it a crack. 

“I will come out there when I’m done cleaning up,” she offered.

“Let me in,” he insisted. “I’m not going to go on about our personal business in the street.”

“If you come in, we have to leave the door open. It wouldn’t be proper for us to be in here alone.”

Terry rolled his eyes but gave a curt nod. The late afternoon sunshine felt pleasant on her face, and for a moment, Mia stood in the doorway. “Couldn’t we take a stroll in the park?” she asked Terry. “I’m tired of being indoors all day.”

“If you’d listen to anything I tell you, you wouldn’t have to be.” Terry pushed his way in, forcing her to almost fall backward, and sat at a table. 

With a sigh, she sat across from him. The wide-open door let in the sounds of wagons rumbling by and children playing in the street. 

“Mia, there’s no reason for you to struggle along, day after day, month after month, wearing yourself out with work and trying to make ends meet. Marry me, and let me take care of you. Your whole life can be a stroll in the park!”

Mia studied the handsome face before her. A few months ago, she probably would have said yes. But she’d since grown immune to those baby blue eyes and dark, curly locks. She’d seen Terry flirting with everyone from scullery maids to debutants. There was no reason for him to fix his attention on her. His professions of love didn’t ring true. Not the sort of love that Papa had had for Mama, or Grandpa Victor had had for Grandma Alice. 

“Terry, I do appreciate your concern for me, but I have given you my answer. Please do not call again.”

“You’re saying you would rather barely make ends meet alone than let me take care of you? Mia, that doesn’t make sense! Why are you being such a little fool?”

She started to rise, but he grabbed her arm. 

“You’re hurting me,” she exclaimed, staring at him, but he didn’t ease his grip.

“I always get what I want. You telling me no just makes the chase more exciting.”

“Terry, this isn’t a game. It’s my life. I do not want to marry you. Not now and not ever. Please fix your affections on one of the many other young women in your circle.”

Terry didn’t release her arm. The way he stared her down made her want to squirm. There was a predatory glint in his eyes that unsettled her. Her adopted grandparents had warned her, as she reached courting age, about unscrupulous men who would take advantage of unprotected women. 

Lord, I don’t know what to do, she prayed silently. 

“Why, Mia? Why won’t you have me?”

“Mr. Rawlins,” she said, hoping the use of his last name would restore some formality between them, “I was honored by your attentions over the past several months. But I came to see that there is no future for us together. Quite frankly, I have concerns about your character and that of your family.”

She’d first met Terry after Grandpa Victor died. He was the son of the banker who handled Grandpa Victor’s financial affairs, and he’d helped her sort through loans and accounts. She had marveled that he would be interested in her, asking her to join his family for dinner or to attend the theatre with him, when his family’s wealth put him clearly in a higher class than herself. He’d been so pleasant, cheering her with flowers and chocolates and colorful cards with sweet messages. 

She’d never forget that moment at the park, however, as they’d sat by the fountain on a Sunday afternoon. She’d been sharing her grief about losing her adoptive grandparents just a few years after losing her parents. She’d started to cry and looked to him for comfort, only to find that his attention was fixated on another young lady at the park. He was actually winking at her while nodding and pretending to care about Mia’s heartache.

That had been the moment she’d realized that her grief had blinded her to who Terry Rawlins really was. Added to that was the fact that the comfortable inheritance Grandpa Victor had left her suddenly wasn’t so comfortable now that Terry’s father’s bank had sorted it all out. 

“And just what are you accusing me of, Mia?” Terry lowered his eyebrows menacingly.

“You created the very struggle you say you are saving me from!” she snapped. “I was fine before you helped ‘sort out’ my finances. Grandpa Victor said I would have enough, but—”

He was clenching her arm tighter and tighter as she spoke, and she bit back a cry of pain. Thankfully, at that moment, a large middle-aged woman stepped into the bakery. Terry dropped her arm immediately. 

“I’ve heard all about your apple pie,” the woman announced. “Is there any left?”

“I’m so sorry.” Mia rubbed her arm and shot Terry a dark look. “I’m sold out of all my pies for the day, but I’ll definitely be making some more apple ones in the morning. Would you like to place an order?”

“Yes, that would be excellent.”

“Very good. Let me just get your name and address then.” Mia was glad for the chance to move behind the counter and took her time getting a notepad and chatting with the woman. 

“You’ll see me again tomorrow,” Terry growled as he stalked out of the shop. The customer stared at him curiously. With effort, Mia shrugged and continued to make small talk with the woman until she was sure Terry was out of earshot. 

“Handsome young man, there,” the woman remarked. “It must make your heart all aflutter to know he’ll be back tomorrow.”

Mia gave a weak smile. “Indeed.” 

With the shop empty and the door locked a second time, Mia finished her cleaning up in a daze. She wanted to go out for a stroll herself, but fear of encountering Terry again made her climb up to her room over the shop instead. Why was he so obsessed with her?

She stared in the mirror over the bureau. The wide green eyes staring back squinted in consternation. Mama had always said she was pretty, but mothers usually said such things about their children, didn’t they? Was it her looks that had Terry so determined to win her? No, it had to be more than that, for she’d seen him walking in the park, deep in conversation, with a golden-haired young lady superior in appearance and dress. Perhaps it was simply because she was the first woman who’d told him no, and Terry must always have the forbidden fruit. 

Lord, thank you for sending in a customer this afternoon and that Terry left. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your intervention.

She moved to take off her apron, and her hand brushed the pocket. There was the ad she’d looked at this morning. Reading it again, she felt as intrigued as ever. 

Mia grabbed her stationery box and sat down at the small desk in her room. 

 

Dear Mr. Carson, 

I am responding to your ad regarding a caretaker…

 

There was no harm in finding out more information. She would continue praying for a solution to her life in Chicago, but as Grandma Alice had often quoted, “God moves in mysterious ways.” Perhaps she was missing the answer because she wasn’t looking in the right place.

Chapter 2

“Thank you, Mrs. Jennings,” Will Carson said with a sigh. “We will have a full-time caretaker for Mother soon.”

At least he hoped so, Will thought grimly as he stepped inside his house after seeing the hired woman off. The sink was piled with dishes, and the laundry basket was overflowing with ironing to be done. He found his mother in her chair in the parlor, a quilt tucked around her, looking pale and listless.

“Hello, Mother,” he greeted, stooping to kiss her cheek. He was glad she could not see the rest of the house—it would mortify her that the place she’d cared for so proudly her whole married life was now in shambles. 

He pulled three letters from his coat pocket. 

“I’ve had some replies to my ad for a caretaker,” he began. Her eyes lit up, and he could tell she understood everything he said, even if her stroke had left her unable to reply, except with a syllable or two. 

“There’s a thirty-seven-year-old widow from Boston. Children grown. She’s a nurse but has always had a housekeeper, so I don’t know how she’ll be with chores. Better than Mrs. Jennings, we could hope.”

Mother made a sound in her throat. He didn’t know if it was an attempt at a laugh or a groan. 

“She says she is ready for a change, and as she doesn’t care for her daughters-in-law, she is okay with leaving her sons.”

Mother didn’t respond, so he went on to the next one.

“Then we have nineteen-year-old Mia Turner from Chicago. She runs a bakery and cared for her elderly grandparents before they died. Appears to be alone in the world. She speaks of her involvement in church and includes a letter of reference from her pastor.”

Mother’s eyes lit up, and she smiled—the first smile he’d seen from her since the stroke. He knew it was hard for her to move the muscles on her right side, and his heart soared with hope. “Do you like the sound of this one?” he asked. 

Mother nodded.

“Can’t say that I’d mind some good cooking right now,” he said. “Still, the first one makes the most sense, I’d say. Then there’s this third one. She’s forty years old, never married, and has been a housekeeper for her brother and his children for the past decade.”

“Mia,” Mother formed the word with effort, and he finally discerned what she was saying.

“All right, then. You’re the one who’ll be spending all your time with the lady, so whatever makes you happy. I’ll get some references as to her character and work ethic, and if it all checks out, I’ll wire her the funds to move out here. Hopefully, we’ll be lucky on our first try.”

“No luck. Pray,” Mother rasped. 

He smiled at her tenderly. “Yes, ma’am. I know you’ll pray about it.” He had no doubt that even weak and disabled, she still prayed fervently for his safety and future. He admired her strong faith, even if he didn’t pray himself anymore. 

He picked her up. She barely weighed more than a child now. Her hair, once honey blond, as was his, had faded to white, and her hands, once constantly employed in knitting and sewing and baking and comforting, now sat gnarled and idle. Heavy-hearted, he carried her to her bedroom and made sure she was warm and settled for the night. He’d check on her again before he went to bed himself, but with the house in such disarray, it looked like that might be hours. He took a slice of Mrs. Jennings’s dry, crumbly bread and a few strips of venison jerky and went and sat on the front porch for his late supper. 

The Rockies always formed such a majestic backdrop. He’d never seen a big city like Chicago or Boston. His father had always said they were full of crime and disease. Will had spent his whole life right here in Applewood, and with the exquisite beauty of creation all around him, he couldn’t say that he’d ever want to live anywhere else. 

“Evening, Sheriff. What’s got you so lost in thought?”

Will rolled his eyes at the voice of his deputy—and friend—Martin McGregor. “Tell me about life in the city, Mac,” he said. “Or rather, what was it like to come from the city to a place like Applewood.”

Mac sat down on the porch steps and leaned back against the railing. He, too, looked up at the majestic Rocky Mountains. 

“It felt like I took a breath for the first time in my whole life.” Mac exhaled now. “And then all I could think about was how to get the rest of my family out of that Irish tenement building and out here to the land of promise as fast as possible. This is what they’re looking for. I guess New York City is still better than starving in Ireland, but not much better. This here is paradise.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Will countered. “You and me know better than anyone else about the problems around here.”

Mac nodded. “Sure,” he said. “But if there’s outlaws here, there’s gangs in the cities.”

Will knew what Mother would say. That all people were sinners and their sin led to all the sorrow in the world. That philosophy had helped her cope with Pa’s death. Will ran a hand over the scruff of the beard he hadn’t decided if he was growing or not. 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Mac asked. “You always get a certain look.”

Will nodded. “Perceptive of you. Good quality for a lawman. I wish I’d had some of that same discernment, and maybe Pa would still be alive.”

Mac looked at him for a long time. “You were sixteen, Will. You made a mistake a man twice that age mighta made. I hope you can find peace about it someday.”

“The only way I’ll ever find peace is if the Lexington Outfit sees justice.”

Mac shrugged. “I’m devoted to that. But I’m not sure if it will bring as much peace as forgiveness would.” Then the scrappy Irishman bounced up, probably guessing Will was about to growl at him. “See you tomorrow,” he called, leaving Will alone to ponder his words. 

Forgiveness. That traitor Randy Callaway had asked for his forgiveness. But some things weren’t forgivable. Taking a boy’s father from him was one of those things. Fisting his hands, Will stared out at the mountains, only a dark silhouette now in the light of a full moon. 

Rising, he stepped back into the house. It was midnight before he’d finished the dishes and ironed himself a shirt to wear tomorrow. He checked on Mother, then sat down at the kitchen table for the one last thing he needed to do before morning. By the light of the kerosene lamp, he began his letter.

 

Dear Miss Turner: 

Thank you for your correspondence. I would be happy to extend the caretaker position to you upon receipt of at least two additional satisfactory letters of reference. Margaret, my mother, suffered a stroke two months ago. Her recovery has been very slow, and the doctor does not know how long it will take, or if she will ever fully regain the ability to walk and speak normally.

Her caretaker will have the bedroom next to hers. It is furnished with a bed and washstand, but there is room for the addition of furniture or other belongings to make the space fully your own. Anything that will make you feel at home. Please bring any books in your possession. Do you possess a pleasant reading voice? 

Once our terms are agreed upon, and I can confirm with your references, I will wire money for your traveling expenses. Please telegraph me with your traveling arrangements, especially the date and time you will arrive in Colorado Springs, the closest station to Applewood. I will offer you an advance when you get to town, and after that, your salary will be paid monthly. We can discuss the particulars of your schedule once you are here. 

My mother looks forward to your coming. I believe you will like Colorado. 

Sincerely, 

Will Carson

---

“Traces of her Fugitive Heart” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Mia Thomas is a young woman carrying not just the weight of loss, but a veiled past haunting her every step. Drawn by an ad seeking a caretaker, she moves to the close-knit community of Applewood, Colorado, and catches the eye of the warm-hearted Sheriff, Will Carson. As she settles into her role, the captivating allure of the town, combined with the promise of a tranquil life with Will, weaves a spell around her. However, little does the town know that Mia’s past, shrouded in danger and secrecy, is an unsettling force that threatens to shatter the very tranquility they hold dear.

She’s kept the faith through trial after trial, but is there a bigger plan behind all the sorrow?

When Sheriff Will Carson needs someone to care for his elderly mother, he hires a stranger to help. Even though he is a figure of authority and order, Mia quickly manages to transform his home and win over his mother, and soon, a profound connection begins to bloom. It all seems too good to be true though, and reeling from past betrayals, Will struggles to set aside his bitterness and believe that this pretty and sweet young woman is all she appears.

How will he confront the harsh reality that Mia’s arrival may unravel the very fabric of trust he holds dear?

Just when Mia has found peace in her new home, the past comes calling, for her and for Will. The relentless pursuit of a figure from her past draws nearer, and the harmony they have built becomes a fragile sanctuary on the verge of collapse. As they face old enemies and buried hurts, can they find a way forward together?

“Traces of her Fugitive Heart” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 50,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!