Penny (Orlan Orphans Book 6)

  Penny

  Book Six in Orlan Orphans

  By Kirsten Osbourne

  Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill

  Copyright 2017 Kirsten Osbourne

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

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  Penny Sanders is happy with her life in Nowhere, Texas. She’s been adopted by a wonderful elderly couple who are determined to be good parents for her and her sisters, and she has a good job doing what she loves best. When a handsome stranger wanders into the mercantile where she works, she is immediately attracted to him, but she’s unsure if she can trust him beyond a business relationship. While his eyes make her heart beat faster, she is cautious, not wanting to ruin the good life she has.

  Tom McClain is a man who believes very strongly in fate. The youngest of seven brothers, he has always known where he was going, if not when he’d arrive there. When he sees Penny sitting at her work table, he knows she’s the woman who will complete him, and he immediately sets to the task of convincing her. Will he be able to make her understand that they’re meant to be together? Or will her overwhelming family get the better of him?

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  Chapter One

  “Excuse me, miss. Mr. Darcy said you might be able to make me a few shirts. My ma told me she’s done with me, because I rip every shirt she makes too fast.”

  Penelope looked up at the cowboy standing in front of her. She couldn’t see his eyes, because his hat was pulled down low over them, but he looked like a typical cowboy to her. He wore tan pants that were downright dirty, a blue plaid shirt, and boots. “I can probably do that. When do you need them by?” She pulled her work schedule from beside her. It didn’t reflect the hours she needed to work, but instead, it listed the projects that needed to be done.

  The man shrugged. “As soon as you can get them done. I’ve patched the holes in the few I have way too many times.” He took a step closer to Penny’s work table. “I hear your name’s Penny.”

  She nodded. “Yes, it is. Penny Sanders.” She didn’t bother to look up. “I can have two finished by Friday, and another two by Friday of next week. Does that work for you? How many do you want?”

  “Ten or so would be good, and Friday would be wonderful.”

  It was Wednesday, so she knew she’d be taking work home as she did most nights. It was a good thing she could spend time with her sisters while sewing in the parlor. “Ten? That’s a lot of shirts. Do you know what I charge?” Most cowboys didn’t have that kind of cash available to them. Of course, most of the cowboys she knew of went over to the next town to waste their money on liquor and painted ladies.

  He nodded. “Yes’m, I do. I’m happy to pay it for a well-made shirt.”

  “All right. Do you have a preference on colors? If you’ll take your hat off and let me get a look at your eyes and hair, I can make suggestions.” Penny often helped her customers with fabric selections. Most men had no idea what would look good on them.

  He hesitated for a long moment before removing his hat and holding it against his chest, his right hand going up to smooth his dark-blond hair. His eyes struck her immediately. They were slate gray. She’d never seen eyes that were quite that shade of gray, but she liked them. She could get lost in eyes like that.

  She cleared her throat. “I think you’d look good in red, blue, or green. Would one of those colors suit you?” Who am I kidding? He’d look good in anything! Those eyes are going to be the death of me.

  He nodded. “That would be just fine.” He put his hat back on his head. “Do you need my name for your schedule?”

  “Yes, of course.” She pulled a pencil from the back of her head, feeling her chestnut hair spill over her shoulders. She’d lost some of her pins on her way to work, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Her mind had been on other things—as usual.

  “It’s Thomas. Thomas McClain.”

  Penny jotted his name down. “Do you want me to just find something for your fabric, or do you want to choose?”

  He shrugged. “I trust you.” His gaze met hers, and she felt a little chill run down her spine. When he looked at her, she felt as if she’d known him forever. This man—What was it about him that was so familiar? He couldn’t really see inside her soul, could he?

  She stood, her tape measure in hand. “If you’ll hold your arms out to your sides, I’ll get your measurements, and then you can be on your way.” She was surprised to find she was nervous about touching him. How many men had she measured in her time at the store? And she was nervous. It was unbelievable, and yet it was happening.

  Tom obeyed, his arms straight out to his sides. When she stepped closer to him, she realized he was huge, towering over her less than average height. “Do you want children?” he asked.

  Penny blinked up at him. “Why on earth would you ask me such a personal question, Mr. McClain?”

  “Call me Tom.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do that. I don’t know you.” She put her arms around his back and carefully measured his chest, trying not to touch him, but there was no way to get an accurate measurement without.

  “You will.” The words were soft, but she felt them rush through her. Who was this man?

  Penny quickly stepped back. “If you’ll pay Mr. Darcy on the way out, I’d appreciate it. All custom orders have to be paid in advance,” she added quickly, not wanting him to think she was singling him out. For any reason.

  He nodded. “I’m much obliged, ma’am.” At that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Penny stared after him, casually fanning herself with the paper in her hand. The way the man’s bottom looked in his tight britches was downright sinful. She sighed. Edna Petunia would never approve of a cowboy for her to marry. It didn’t matter what his bottom looked like.

  *****

  After paying the owner of the mercantile, Tom turned and winked at the pretty girl who was making shirts for him before he walked out of the store. He knew she didn’t want to be caught watching him, but she had been.

  He kept staring straight ahead until he was certain he was out of sight of the mercantile, and then he slumped against the side of a building, breathing heavily. That had been much harder than he’d imagined. His heart had been racing as he’d talked to her, something that had never happened when approaching a woman. Of course, he’d never approached one he knew he was destined to marry before either.

  Thomas was the seventh son of a seventh son. In fact, he was the seventh of the seventh as far back as at least seven generations. For some reason, the seventh son always had something special about him. In his case, he’d caught tiny glimpses of what his future would be. Over and over and over. When he was five, he’d announced he would marry a seamstress named Penny, and his family had laughed at him.

  His family had a large ranch between Nowhere, Texas and Austin. It was about an hour’s ride into Nowhere, but his sister-in-law had come in a few weeks before, and she’d talked to the seamstress in the store. She’d made her a pretty blouse that she’d raved about to his brother, William. At their monthly family lunch on Sunday, William had told the whole family that there was a seamstress named Penny in Nowhere and that Tom better hightail it over to the store and ask her to marry him.


  Tom had known instantly that she was the woman he’d marry. He’d spent days debating with himself about actually approaching her, but in the end, there’d been no choice. She was his destiny, and he knew better than to fight with destiny.

  She’d been prettier than he’d expected. Somehow, knowing he was destined to marry her, he’d had her pictured in his head as plain and boring. The spark that jumped through his veins upon seeing her had been anything but boring. And when she’d pulled the pencil from her hair, letting it fall down over her shoulders, he understood why some religions believed women should cover their hair. He was ready to ask her to marry him immediately…or at least participate in marital acts with him.

  His Penny would certainly keep life interesting. Now he just had to convince her she was his. Couldn’t be that hard, could it?

  *****

  The whole way home, Penny’s mind was on the cowboy. She carried her sewing basket with her, the pieces she’d cut out to sew that evening in it. She loved to work in a room filled with her sisters in the evenings. Katie would sing or Dorothy would tell them stories about some far-off kingdom that existed only in the world of her imagination. She would settle into the chaos that was always present with eleven young ladies living in the same house, and she would feel like all was right with the world.

  She was one of fifteen orphans who had been kicked out of the only home they’d ever known in Orlan, New York just a few years back. They’d been adopted by a kindly, if a bit eccentric, old lady named Edna Petunia and her new husband, Cletus. The two showered the girls with more love than they’d ever known. Four of the young ladies were now married to men from Nowhere, and they stayed close. They all felt as if they were sisters, so they called one another that, though there were only two who were blood related to one another.

  She liked to walk home from work, except in the hottest months of the summer. Cletus was always willing to drive her and her sisters, and some of them took him up on it, but not her. She liked to be alone with her thoughts usually, but not this time. As she walked her mind flitted over and over to Thomas McClain. Why had he asked her if she wanted children? What kind of question was that to ask a stranger?

  When she reached the house, her thoughts were no more settled than they had been. She walked into the front door, stopping off at the kitchen to let Edna Petunia know she was home. “Do you need help cooking this evening?”

  Edna Petunia eyed the basket in Penny’s hand. “It looks like you brought work home. I’ll handle supper myself.”

  Penny nodded gratefully, happy to be able to work. She’d have helped with a smile on her face, but the extra time would keep her from having to sew well past her usual bedtime. “Thank you. I do have a lot to do.”

  “One of the other girls can help me.” Edna Petunia stirred a huge pot while she talked, her gray hair standing atop her head.

  Penny had a real soft spot for the woman who had saved them from certain doom. When they’d arrived in Nowhere and found out the house the new owners of the orphanage had promised them didn’t exist, Edna Petunia had immediately offered all fifteen of them a permanent home. She no longer felt like an orphan. She felt like a well-loved daughter.

  Hurrying into the parlor, she took her seat at the sewing machine and got to work. Alice and Minnie were both there—Minnie was making a baby afghan. With four married sisters it seemed someone was always expecting, so Minnie was constantly making something. Alice was hard at work studying. She was learning to be a nurse so she could help out Dr. Iris Harvey, the very lady who had brought Edna Petunia to town.

  She and Minnie talked about their day, over the hum of the sewing machine. After a moment Alice had enough. “I’m going to go study where it’s quiet.” She said nothing else as she stormed off.

  Penny didn’t think anything of Alice getting upset with them for talking. They’d spoken in low tones. Alice just tended to be easily irritated about everything and always had been.

  Penny debated bringing up meeting Tom McClain, but in the end she couldn’t. She didn’t want to talk about her trepidations with anyone yet. Maybe eventually.

  After supper, she joined Edna Petunia and Cletus in the family’s formal parlor. She could do some hand-stitching on the shirt while she asked about the McClain family. Maybe Cletus knew something about them.

  She sat down on the sofa beside Edna Petunia, the green shirt she was working on in her lap. “I had a cowboy come into the store today and order some shirts. He was in a hurry, so I’m working them into my schedule.”

  Edna Petunia eyed her carefully. “You know I don’t trust the cowboys around here. Don’t go getting any ideas. As much as I want as many grand-bastards as I can have, I want you girls to be married to good men.” Edna glanced over at Cletus. “And don’t go doing anything that will make babies without being married to him either!”

  “I’m just making shirts for him, Edna Petunia. I’m not marrying him, and I’m certainly not doing anything that will make a baby.” Penny didn’t look at the older woman as she said the words, worried she’d see right through them.

  Cletus looked at her over the top of the law book he was studying. He’d decided to get his law degree just the previous year. Penny wasn’t quite sure of his age, but she knew he needed to be close to seventy. Why he wanted a law degree now was beyond her. “What’s his name?”

  “Thomas McClain.”

  Cletus frowned for a moment. “I’ve heard of the McClains. They’ve got a ranch about an hour from here. Family’s always seemed a little peculiar to me.”

  “It can’t be the same family,” Penny protested. “He looked like he was out riding cattle all day, not one of the family members.” She knew that in a lot of families, the only people actually out working with the animals were the hired hands. That was especially true with families who had been in Texas for a while, and if Cletus knew them, they’d probably been around for a generation or two. He’d spent almost forty years living in the woods outside town. He hadn’t been part of “society” since before what he liked to refer to as the War of Northern Aggression.

  “I don’t recall if one of the boys was Tom, but I do know there are always a lot of them. Never any girls. Just boys.”

  Penny nodded, wondering if the family Cletus mentioned could belong to the man she’d met that day. “I know nothing other than his name.” And that he has a propensity for saying inappropriate things, of course.

  “Do you want me to look into him?” Cletus asked, his gaze level on Penny’s.

  Penny shook her head. “He’s just a customer. I’m making him some shirts. That’s all.” Even as she said the words, a little voice inside her screamed that she was a liar. He was more than a customer. Or he would be.

  As she was climbing into bed that night, she was still thinking about the man. His first shirt was finished, and would look good on him. His eyes were still on her mind as she closed her eyes. She’d never seen eyes that particular shade of gray, but they were absolutely beautiful. His long lashes were imprinted on her brain forever.

  *****

  Tom slipped between the covers in his childhood bedroom. His parents still lived there, but the house and land would one-day be his. The seventh son always inherited in his family, though he knew that was odd for others.

  He felt as if he shouldn’t be alone. Now that he’d met his Penny, his future wife, he felt like they should always be together. He’d have to find out if there was a barn raising or church social coming up. He could always take her to the ice cream parlor, but he wanted to hold her, and dancing was the only way.

  He sighed, folding his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. It was dark, and he could see nothing, but it didn’t matter. Her face would be all he would see anyway.

  Even though he’d always known he’d marry her, he’d not expected to meet her quite so soon. He was only twenty-five, and never thought to marry before he was thirty or so. But when fate came knocking on his door, he couldn’t very well
slam it in her face.

  His last thoughts as he fell asleep were of her as he knew his first thoughts would be of her in the morning. She was his bride…he just had to convince her of it.

  Chapter Two

  When Thomas walked into the store on Friday—Penny couldn’t figure out why she thought of him by his first name—she had both of his shirts wrapped in brown paper, ready for him to take with him. He walked back to the table where she sat and stood looking down at her. He again had his cowboy hat riding low over his eyes, and she found herself less nervous about him when she couldn’t see his eyes.

  “I have your shirts all ready, Mr. McClain.”

  “Thank you.” He took the package she held out to him. “I appreciate you working so hard to get them done quickly.”

  “I was happy to do it.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” he blurted out.

  She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “I’ll probably be working on your shirts, while my sister Katie sings.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Why will your sister be singing?”

  She shrugged. “Katie always sings.”

  “You don’t have to work on my shirts at home.”

  “I do if I want to finish them on time.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want you spending your weekend working. Not for me.”

  “I work a lot of weekends. I don’t mind.” She didn’t add she worked so much because she didn’t have a social life. Why bother? It had to be blatantly obvious to him.

  “Spend tomorrow evening with me.” He hadn’t heard of a dance, but he could take her out for supper. There was a restaurant in town now. They’d just opened it, and he’d heard the food was good.

  “I don’t know you.”

  “You won’t get to know me if you don’t spend time with me,” he argued reasonably. “Please.”

  “I know nothing about you. I’m sorry, but if you want to court me, you’ll have to talk to my—father.” She hesitated as she thought about how to describe Cletus.