Sam's Legacy, Page 3

  “May we join you?”

  Sam continued to stare out the window, not hearing the woman’s voice until she repeated it, louder this time.

  “Sir, may we join you?”

  Shifting in his seat, he stood, removing his hat. “Please.” He looked at the woman and the young boy, who couldn’t be more than seven. Glancing outside, he saw the station. So lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed the train had stopped.

  “Thank you. We almost lost hope of finding two seats together.”

  When they were settled across from him, Sam sat down. “I’m Sam Covington. Where are you headed?”

  “I’m Minnie Ritter, and this is my son, Harry. We’re traveling to Baltimore. Have you been there?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was born there. It’s where I’m headed.”

  “Wonderful. Then we’ll be sharing the entire trip with you, won’t we, Harry?”

  “Yes, Mama.” He didn’t look at his mother, staying focused on the canvas-covered ball in his hand.

  “How old are you, Harry?”

  When he didn’t answer, Minnie spoke for him. “Five. He’ll be six next month. It’s why we’re going to visit his grandparents in Baltimore. They’ve never met him.”

  “Your parents?” Sam asked, watching the boy toss the ball from one hand to the other.

  “No. They’re my late husband’s parents. He died soon after the war started.” Minnie glanced at Harry. “He never had a chance to meet his son. When I received word of his death, we moved from Pennsylvania to live with my parents in St. Louis. Do you have children, Mr. Covington?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m not married.” He saw no need to elaborate.

  She laughed. “I don’t suppose that matters much anymore. I know of at least a dozen women in St. Louis who have children and never married. The war, I guess. People make poor decisions when faced with possible death.” She reached over and stroked Harry’s head.

  “Mama,” he protested, moving away.

  “He thinks he’s a man and doesn’t need me much anymore.” Minnie placed her hands in her lap and glanced out the window as the train began to move. After a while, she reached into her bag, pulling out yarn and needles. “You don’t mind if I knit, do you?”

  “No, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind if I take a nap.”

  “You go right ahead, Mr. Covington.”

  Closing his eyes, Sam crossed his arms, stretching out his long legs as best as he could without disturbing the Ritters. Within minutes, he’d fallen asleep, images of Jinny filling his dreams.

  Circle M Ranch

  “It must have been very important or he wouldn’t have left, Jinny.” Emma MacLaren, Quinn’s wife, sat beside her closest friend on the porch swing after supper.

  “Aye, I’m sure it was.” She lifted her gaze to meet Emma’s. “At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I thought he might try to see me again before he left.”

  Sam had been gone for over a week—ten days since he’d held her in his arms. She’d never been kissed before, never been held so close. Remembering broke her heart.

  “Brodie said Sam left right after the governor changed the sentences of the three prisoners. He didn’t even wait until the following morning.”

  “I heard.” Jinny glanced out at a clear sky covered with stars. “He’s not coming back.”

  Emma squeezed her hand, then let go. “I know, honey. At least he didn’t give you hope. Now you’re free to meet someone else.”

  Jinny shook her head, then looked at Emma. “Sam’s who I love. Remember how you were when Quinn told you there’d never be a future with him?”

  Emma nodded, still feeling the pain of his words months after they’d married.

  “Even then, you weren’t interested in anyone else. You waited until the eejit found some sense.”

  Emma laughed. “True, but my eejit lived here. Yours is thousands of miles away.”

  Jinny’s eyes widened. “You know where he went?”

  “Well, yes. Didn’t he tell you? According to Quinn, he left to go home…to Maryland.”

  Jinny’s throat tightened. “A country between us. No wonder he won’t be coming back.”

  “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do for you. Brodie and your parents are beginning to worry.”

  Jinny glanced toward the barn. She’d done all her chores, been to every meal, done her best to participate in conversations. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious.”

  “It isn’t to most of the family. I told Brodie you needed time, the same as he did when Maggie left.”

  “Tell me I’m not as bad as he was.”

  Emma grimaced. “Well…”

  Burying her face in her hands, Jinny groaned.

  “Give yourself time. When you’re ready, we’ll go into town, buy some fabric, and make you a new dress.”

  Dropping her hands, she tilted her head. “Why would I be needing a new dress?”

  “For the community dance, of course. It’s the one we go to every year. The whole family is going, and that includes you.”

  Even with her passion for dresses, Jinny had no interest in a new one or in attending the dance. If her family was concerned, she’d force herself to go.

  “I suppose it’s time to accept Sam is truly gone. I’ve no interest in meeting someone else, so don’t push any of the lads on me.” She watched Emma’s face brighten. “Ach, I mean it. I’ll not be having you parade people in front of me. Promise me, or I won’t go.”

  “Fine. At least you’ll be there with me.”

  Jinny smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You forget, you’ll be with Quinn.”

  “Who’ll tire of me wanting to dance. Don’t worry. You and I will have plenty of time together.” Yawning, Emma stood. “It’s time I found Quinn and went to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Walking down the front steps, she headed for the barn, knowing the men would be in there, telling lies while trying to hide the bottle of whiskey she’d seen Quinn’s brother, Bram, stash in a pocket.

  Standing, Jinny stretched her arms above her head. Stepping into the house, she headed up the stairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Somehow, she had to put Sam behind her, and it needed to start soon. She didn’t need anyone wasting time worrying about her.

  Tomorrow would be a new day. A day Jinny would use to start over and forget about what couldn’t be changed.

  Conviction

  “One more stop, Emma. I’m in need of a new saddle.” Jinny held her packages against her chest as she crossed the street, dodging wagons and riders as she headed toward Ferguson Harness and Saddlery.

  “I didn’t realize anything was wrong with the one you have now.” Holding her skirt to avoid the muddy ruts from last night’s storm, Emma followed Jinny’s path, bounding up the steps to the saddlery. “Quinn told me Mr. Ferguson hired someone. Maybe we’ll get to meet him.”

  “It doesn’t matter who takes the order, as long as the work is done right.” She pushed through the door, glancing around the shop, her gaze halting on a tall, good-looking young man standing behind the counter. “Oh my,” she breathed out, watching him finish with a customer.

  “He must be the new help Quinn mentioned.”

  “Aye.” Jinny cleared her throat, doing her best to show disinterest as he walked toward them.

  “What may I do for you ladies?”

  Emma glanced at Jinny, nudging her when she didn’t answer. “I, um…need a new saddle.”

  “Then this is the right place.” His gaze locked on Jinny, a broad smile enhancing his already handsome face.

  Squaring her shoulders, she glanced at the saddles on display. “Something similar to the one against the wall.”

  “Good choice, Miss…”

  “Jinny MacLaren, and this is my cousin, Emma MacLaren. And you are?”

  “Deke Arrington. I’m Rube Ferguson’s nephew. It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” He glanced behind him
. “You’ve good taste. If what you want is anything like the one over there, you’ll be the envy of all your relatives.”

  Jinny’s eyes widened. “You know of my family?”

  His deep, easygoing chuckle warmed her. “I’ve met several members of your family, including the sheriff, who I’m told is your brother.”

  “Brodie mentioned me to you?”

  “Not quite. Uncle Rube spent several hours telling me about the town and his most prominent customers, including the MacLarens. Don’t worry, though. All I know are names. It’s nice to put a face to yours. So, about your saddle, why don’t you tell me exactly what you’d like.”

  “I’m so pleased Deke showed an interest in attending the community dance, aren’t you?”

  Unable to garner much interest in the dance, Jinny glanced at Emma as they walked toward their horses. As attractive as she found him, Deke didn’t stir her blood, make her heart pound the same way Sam did.

  “I suppose.”

  “It will be a perfect way for him to meet single women,” Emma prodded.

  “Aye, there are quite a number in Conviction. I’m certain a man such as Deke won’t lack for attention.”

  “You found him attractive, didn’t you?”

  Sighing, she nodded. “Aye, he is quite handsome.” Stopping next to their horses, she turned toward Emma. “He’s also charming and smart. The problem is, he isn’t Sam.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything more than accept a dance if he asks and introduce him to others. It’s better than sitting alone at the house, wishing Sam hadn’t left.”

  Securing the package of fabric to the back of her saddle, Jinny grabbed the reins and swung into it with a graceful ease. She didn’t fault Emma for encouraging her to get out and forget what could’ve been.

  The two rode at a slow pace out of town, Jinny pondering Emma’s words. She couldn’t deny how much his leaving hurt, but pining over Sam wouldn’t help. And it didn’t bring her any closer to forgetting about him. “I understand you worry about me, Emma, but there’s no need. Sam’s gone and that’s the end of it.” Sucking in a breath, she settled into the saddle for the ride back to the ranch. “We’ll make our dresses, and I’ll go with you and Quinn to the dance.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’ll let—”

  Jinny cut her off before Emma could get carried away. “But…do not push any of the lads toward me. If you do, I’ll not be going with you to another dance for a long time.”

  Baltimore, Maryland

  As he had for the last ten minutes, Sam stood outside the front door of a house he hadn’t thought about in years. Coming here had been required, part of a responsibility he refused to shirk. It didn’t mean he liked it.

  He’d gone home, explained to his parents what little he knew, then began his own investigation. It took over two weeks to gather the information he needed. He hadn’t been happy with the results, nor the data that forced him to do what he was doing now. Standing outside the house owned by his ex-lover’s parents, he remembered the woman he thought he loved, planned to marry—until she destroyed all they had with a few short sentences.

  After meeting Jinny, Sam knew his feelings for another young woman years ago didn’t compare to the desire he felt for her. He found himself wondering how he could be attracted to two such different women. One sweet, trusting, and naïve. The other world-weary at a young age, a lie rolling off her tongue with an ease he’d never anticipated. Not until it was too late.

  Knowing he could wait no longer, Sam lifted his hand, knocking three times, then standing back. In less than a minute, a large colored man answered the door, nodding congenially, then stepping aside when the homeowner came up behind him. Arthur Foster offered his hand.

  “Samuel Covington. We’ve been expecting you. Please, come in.”

  Sam stared at the outstretched hand, deciding his best course was to be gracious about the elder Foster’s summons. Stepping inside, he felt a moment of extreme unease pass through him. It had been years since he stood in this foyer, watching a beautiful, vivacious young woman glide down the stairs. He could almost feel her presence now, years after she’d died.

  Foster, an elderly man with thinning gray hair, stopped in front of a set of closed doors, his expression bleak. “My wife is waiting for us in the drawing room. She is not in good health and tires easily.” His eyes had a wistful, faraway look. “I’m afraid she won’t be with me much longer.” Opening the door, he ushered Sam inside. “Ethel, Mr. Covington is here.”

  Dressed in all black, her pale skin and haunted expression had Sam rooted in place. “Good morning, Mrs. Foster.”

  “Sam?”

  He moved toward her, not wanting to seem too aggressive. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, I don’t believe Vera is expecting a caller.” She glanced at her husband. “Arthur, would you let Vera know Sam is here?”

  Sam’s confused expression shot to Arthur. “I’m afraid my wife lives in the past. Most days, she is unaware of Vera’s passing.” He glanced at Ethel. “I’m afraid Vera is out right now. Perhaps we can entertain Sam until she returns.”

  Nodding, she stood. “Of course. May I get you some tea?”

  “Uh…”

  Arthur sat down. “Please accept, Sam. It gives her something to do while we talk.”

  Taking a seat in the chair Arthur indicated, he glanced at Ethel. “Tea would be fine. Thank you.”

  As she walked from the room, Arthur turned toward Sam. “You must know we wouldn’t have contacted you if the need weren’t critical. I take it you thought the information in our letter important enough to bring you back from California.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Ah, right to the point. I always liked that about you, Sam.” Arthur leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. “Four. His name is Robert Samuel Foster Covington. We call him Robbie, and I’m afraid he’s quite precocious. Some days, he doesn’t stop talking.”

  Sam’s jaw clenched. All the letter had said was he had a child. The more he learned, the more real it became. “Where is he?”

  “With his nanny at the park. I didn’t believe it wise to have him meet you until we had talked.”

  He didn’t trust Foster, not after all the deceit of the past. “Why would I believe he’s my son?”

  Chuckling, Arthur sat back, resting his hands in his lap. “When you see Robbie, you’ll have no doubt. Before she died, Vera swore you were the father.”

  Snorting, Sam crossed one leg over the other. “You and I both know your daughter was a consummate liar.”

  Pain flickered in Arthur’s eyes. “No matter Vera’s shortcomings, she would not have lied about the parentage of her son. She listed herself as your wife and you as Robbie’s father on the birth certificate.”

  Sam grimaced. “My wife?”

  “Vera had no intention of letting Robbie suffer for her actions or the fact you refused to marry her.”

  Anger at the intended accusation rushed through Sam. Standing, he paced away, trying to rein in the words he wanted to say. Targeting his fury at Arthur would accomplish nothing. Gaining control of his emotions, Sam turned, his voice calm.

  “The facts didn’t lie. Vera was a subversive for the Confederacy, a traitor to the country she professed to love. She meant to turn me over to her superiors in Lee’s army. If I hadn’t intercepted her missive, I wouldn’t be standing before you now.”

  “I understand how her betrayal must have felt to you. Her change in allegiance devastated Ethel and me. Still, Vera was our daughter, and Robbie is our grandson. Your son, Sam. Now, you can choose not to accept him and walk away. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. However, as much as you grew to hate Vera, I believe you will grow to love your son. He’s been blessed with the best parts of both of you.” A knock on the door had them turning. “That will be Robbie and his nanny. Shall I ask them in?”

  Pushing aside whatever doubt Sam had, he nodded.

  “Enter.” Arthur stood at the soun
d of laughter in the foyer.

  Heart pounding, stomach churning, Sam watched as the door opened and a young boy ran inside, his face filled with excitement.

  “Grandpapa, I saw so many animals today.” Robbie reached up to grab Arthur’s hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you.” Tugging at his grandfather’s hand, he spotted Sam. Dropping his hold, he took a few tentative steps toward him. “Are you a friend of Grandpapa’s?”

  Sam’s gaze shot to Arthur, then back to the small boy staring up at him. Dropping to a knee, he studied Robbie’s features. Arthur had been right. The boy was his. “Yes, I am. My name is Samuel Covington.”

  Whipping around to stare at his grandfather, he smiled. “That’s my name, too, isn’t it, Grandpapa?”

  Sighing, Arthur nodded. “Almost, my dear boy. Your name is Robert Samuel.” He gestured to Sam. “As I recall, my friend’s name is Samuel Robert. Now, young man, where are your manners?”

  Turning back to Sam, Robbie stuck out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  His breath hitching, throat tightening, Sam clasped his much larger hand around Robbie’s. “Believe me, young Robbie, the pleasure is mine.”

  Chapter Four

  Circle M Ranch

  “I didn’t realize the change in their sentence meant they would be working at the Belford ranch.” Jinny finished pinning the hem of Emma’s dress as they discussed the news from town. Colin and Quinn took turns fetching supplies and picking up mail. Their trips generally included having lunch with Brodie.

  “Quinn said the governor stayed their execution, providing their new sentence a few days ago. Brodie told them Mrs. Belford insisted she wanted the three at her place where they could be watched. If they don’t do as instructed or hurt anyone else, they’ll be headed to San Quentin.” Emma looked at herself in the mirror. Even though she much preferred pants, she was pleased with what she saw. “Brodie tried to talk her out of it. August Fielder had offered to have them work for him, but Mrs. Belford insisted, since her husband had been the victim, they needed to work off their sentence on her ranch.”