A Dream to Call My Own

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A DREAM
TO CALL MY OWN

A DREAM
TO CALL MY OWN

Brides of Gallatin County
BOOK THREE

TRACIE
PETERSON

A Dream to Call My Own
Copyright © 2009
Tracie Peterson

Cover design by Andrea Gjeldum

Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

E-book edition created 2009

ISBN 978-1-4412-0422-6

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

To those in Belgrade, Montana,
who bless me daily.
You know who you are.

Books by Tracie Peterson

www.traciepeterson.com

A Slender Thread • I Can’t Do It All!
**
What She Left for Me • Where My Heart Belongs

ALASKAN QUEST
Summer of the Midnight Sun
Under the Northern Lights • Whispers of Winter

BRIDES OF GALLATIN COUNTY
A Promise to Believe In • A Love to Last Forever
A Dream to Call My Own

THE BROADMOOR LEGACY
*
A Daughter’s Inheritance • An Unexpected Love
A Surrendered Heart

BELLS OF LOWELL
*
Daughter of the Loom • A Fragile Design
These Tangled Threads

Bells of Lowell
(3 in 1)
*

LIGHTS OF LOWELL
*
A Tapestry of Hope • A Love Woven True
The Pattern of Her Heart

DESERT ROSES
Shadows of the Canyon • Across the Years
Beneath a Harvest Sky

HEIRS OF MONTANA
Land of My Heart • The Coming Storm
To Dream Anew • The Hope Within

LADIES OF LIBERTY
A Lady of High Regard • A Lady of Hidden Intent
A Lady of Secret Devotion

WESTWARD CHRONICLES
A Shelter of Hope • Hidden in a Whisper • A Veiled Reflection

YUKON QUEST
Treasures of the North • Ashes and Ice • Rivers of Gold

*
with Judith Miller
**
with Allison Bottke and Dianne O’Brian

TRACIE PETERSON is the author of over seventy novels, both historical and contemporary. Her avid research resonates in her stories, as seen in her bestselling Heirs of Montana and Alaskan Quest series. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana.

Visit Tracie’s Web site at
www.traciepeterson.com
.

CHAPTER ONE

L
ATE
J
ANUARY 1881

Maybe it was cabin fever as well as the announcement from Beth that she was expecting. It might even have been the anxiety of waiting for Gwen’s baby to finally arrive. Whatever the reason, Lacy Gallatin awoke an hour earlier than usual with only one thought on her mind:
I have to get out of here for a time.

She got up and dressed quickly, layering warm flannel trousers over thick wool stockings. Next she put on her heaviest split wool skirt and warmest blouse and sweater. Lacy then tied her hair back in a single braid and completed her outfit with her heavy winter boots.

Taking up her saddlebag, Lacy packed several articles of clothing. She penned a quick note to her sisters, doing her best to explain that the gloomy weather had taken its toll on her.

She read the last lines aloud, as much to strengthen her conviction as to assure herself she’d said the right thing. “ ‘I will be all right. Please don’t send anyone after me. I’m not certain where I’m headed, but I assure you I can take care of myself.’ ”

And she could. Lacy had a little money and a lot of know-how. She was a good horsewoman and a crack shot with the rifle. There had been no reports of highwaymen since the weather had turned so bad the past month. There would always be the threat of wolves, but Lacy could contend with them if she had to. That left only battling the elements.

Hurrying downstairs, Lacy grabbed a few items of food and stuffed them into her bags along with her clothes. If a blizzard came up before she figured out where to go, she’d be able to wait it out. She pulled on her heavy coat and scarf and secured her flannel hat. Her last act was to grab matches, a small tin pot, and a canteen from the back porch.

Blackness engulfed Lacy as she slipped from the house. Within another half hour or so her family would wake up to start their day. The long hours of darkness didn’t stop or even slow life when it came to caring for livestock and seeing that the community had access to the store. Lacy was glad there wasn’t a stage due in or out. The weather had reduced the number of trips being made to Gallatin Crossing, and given Gwen’s condition, that had been a very good thing. There would be no big breakfast to prepare and serve. No abundance of laundry to wash.

Lacy sighed. She felt she fell short even when it came to doing her part at Gallatin House, the roadhouse she and her sisters operated. She had done minor repairs and some of the heavier work after their father was killed, but now that Gwen and Beth had married and Hank and Nick were in residence, she was relegated to household chores. That left Lacy with very little purpose. She simply didn’t belong anymore.

The cold air bit at her face and hands but did little to deter Lacy from her task. She pulled on her gloves—heavy woolen ones that she used for outdoor work—and set out across the yard. Her boots made a crunching sound in the snow and left a very obvious trail from the house to the store.

Hank had helped Nick to build a rather large corral behind the store where he could keep the stage horses ready and waiting. To Lacy’s benefit, the store hid the corral and her activities. She could only pray that everyone would remain asleep or otherwise busy with their own chores while she got away.

The horses had taken shelter together in the loafing shed and seemed somewhat curious as Lacy interrupted their morning. “It’s all right, boys,” she told the gathered geldings. Her own mount nudged her for a treat, but Lacy shook her head. “Not this time, fella.” She saddled him quickly and tied on her saddlebag. She climbed into the saddle and wrapped the canteen strap and tin pot’s handle around the horn.

“Come on, boy,” she urged as they moved across to the gate. Lacy easily managed the gate on horseback. She’d done this a number of times before, and the gelding seemed to understand now what was expected of him. With a quick glance at Gallatin House, Lacy could see that lamps were lit in the upstairs windows. Her family was awakening to face a new day. It was time to leave.

A whine caught her attention. She glanced down to see that Major had followed her. “Not this time, boy. Go home.” The dog looked at her sadly. “Go on, now. Go!” she commanded with as much harshness as she could manage. Major dropped his head and turned back toward the house. Lacy felt terrible for putting him from her, but she had no idea of where she might go. She had odd images of just riding around in circles for days.

“I should have thought this through better.” The horse nickered as if in agreement. “Oh, what do you know?” She nudged the horse’s flanks and put him in motion.

Lacy was glad it had stopped snowing. The roadway was much traveled, leaving the previous snow beaten down by stage and freight wagons, as well as local ranchers and riders coming and going. With no more than a new inch or so, the horse would have a fairly easy time of it.

In the coming light of morning, Lacy could just make out her way. She hadn’t really considered her path but knew almost instinctively that she was headed for Patience and Jerry Shepard’s ranch, four miles out of town. Patience had been like a mother to her, and Lacy desperately needed that right now. Perhaps she would just ask Patience to sit for a time and talk; then Lacy could head out to . . . to where?

The winds were surprisingly calm and as the light dawned over the southern reaches of the mountains, Lacy could see that the clouds had cleared. Maybe they would have a bright sunny day after all.

An orange-yellow sun rose in full, streaking the skies in red and pink hues. It wasn’t a good sign; even the Bible warned about such things as an omen for bad weather. Lacy tried to put it from her mind. At least the temperature seemed to warm a bit as the sun climbed higher. She knew that by now her family would be preparing to face the day. They wouldn’t worry about where she was for a time, but when breakfast was on the table, someone would go to fetch her and find a note instead.

“They’ll probably be mad,” she told the horse. “Dave will be madder than the others. As the law in this area he’ll take it upon himself to hunt me down.” The thought of Dave Shepard, Patience and Jerry’s son, brought unexpected warmth to her cheeks. As deputy, Lacy knew he had plenty to keep him occupied today. He’d spoken the night before of going to Bozeman if the weather was good.

“Hopefully, he’ll just do as he planned and leave me alone. He might even think I’ve gone to Bozeman.”

The horse bobbed his head as if agreeing. Lacy patted his neck. “I’m sorry for bringing you out in the cold without so much as a few oats to start your day. I’ll make it up to you, though. The Shepards will see you well cared for.”

“Well, at least we know now why she wasn’t downstairs to help,” Beth said, waving the note at her sister. “She’s decided to take herself on a little journey.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked.

“She says the winter has gotten to her, and we’re not to worry about her or her whereabouts.” Beth handed Gwen the letter. “Honestly, sometimes that girl doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Gwen shook her head. “I wonder when she left. It must have been sometime in the night.”

“What must have been sometime in the night?” Hank asked his wife as he entered the kitchen. He went to take up a coffee mug and stepped to the stove. He looked up at Gwen. “Well?”

“Lacy decided to go off by herself.”

Hank poured coffee into his cup. “Off by herself where?”

“We don’t know,” Beth admitted. “She just said winter was getting to her. She also said she’d be all right and that we weren’t to send anyone after her.”

“Has she done this before?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes, but it’s been a while. You know how unpredictable she can be.”

“You must be talking about Lacy,” Dave said as he came in behind Hank. “Ah, I see you had the same idea I did.” He grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee. “Nick is stoking up the fire in the front room, Beth. He said he’d get Justin down to breakfast in just a minute.”

“Lacy’s gone,” Beth announced matter-of-factly.

Dave looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“Gone. She took off. She left a note saying she wanted some time away.”

Gwen nodded in confirmation. “She says she can take care of herself, but . . .” Her words trailed off as she clenched her eyes shut and clutched her stomach. Then she opened her eyes and smiled softly at her husband. “Hank . . . I think it’s my time.”

“Are you sure?” Beth asked.

“I’ve been having some back pain since last night, but now it’s starting to intensify and spread to the front. I think the baby is coming.”

“What should we do?” Hank asked, turning rather pale.

“I suppose send for the doctor. If Gwen’s been having pain all night,” Beth surmised, “the baby could be nearly here. I’ll help her to bed.”

“But what about breakfast?” Gwen asked as if they’d all suddenly gone mad.

Dave laughed. “We can manage it for ourselves. You let Hank and Beth get you settled in. I’ll go for the doc.”

Dave was just happy to be out of the house. Women giving birth made him nervous. He could still remember when his younger sisters had been born. He’d been quite young, and his mother’s screams of pain were terrifying.

Thankfully, there was a new doctor in Hamilton. It wouldn’t take long at all to reach him and get help. Dave urged the horse to pick up speed, glad that the latest snow had been only a light dusting. He noticed fresh hoofprints leading out of town and wondered if they belonged to Lacy’s mount. It wasn’t that she was the only one who could have passed this way. He considered the direction and depth of each print. The rider was lightweight, so it might be her. Beth seemed to think Lacy might have gone out the night before, but if that were the case, the new snow would have covered any tracks.

He was still thinking about this when he finally made the turn toward Hamilton. The tracks continued on the main road to the north. He wondered if they’d still be there when he came back. The skies to the west were darkening with clouds, and the whole line seemed to be moving their way. It’d be just his luck to lose the prints in another snowstorm.

Dave made his way into Hamilton, trying to put the worrisome thoughts from his mind. The little town was already up and running, with local merchants sweeping off the dry white offering from the night before. Several people waved as he passed down the street.

Dave knew the new doctor’s office and home was not far. He quickly covered the distance and was rewarded to see the doctor’s wife whisking snow from the steps of their house.

“Morning, Mrs. DuPont. Is the doctor in?” Dave asked without bothering to dismount.

“Oh, goodness, he is, but he’s terribly sick. He’s run a fever all night and is coughing something horrible.”

“Guess he’s not up to making any house calls then.” Dave scratched his chin. “Mrs. Bishop is set to deliver her baby. She’s been having pains all night.”

The woman nodded. “I’m sorry. Your best bet would be to get a midwife. I’d go myself if I didn’t have to take care of my husband.”

“I understand.” Dave thought for a moment. “I hope Doc gets to feeling better.”

“Physicians never make good patients,” she mused. “They’re always trying to second-guess their illness and oftentimes make less of it than they should.” Her face brightened. “Say, your mother would be quite capable of delivering a baby. She’s helped with that before.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right.” Dave tipped his hat. “I’ll go there straightaway.”

“Give her my regards, and we’ll be praying that all goes well.”

He turned the horse and headed out of Hamilton. He picked up the tracks again and followed them, surprised as they turned toward the Shepard ranch. His hopes rose as he felt more confident that the prints had been made by Lacy’s horse.

It was nearly nine when Dave reached the ranch. His father was forking hay onto a wagon when Dave led his mount into the barn.

“Well, we seem to be blessed with visitors today. I sure didn’t expect to see you this morning. What brings you out here?” Jerry leaned on the pitchfork and waited for his son’s reply.

“Gwen Bishop is having her baby. Dr. DuPont is too sick to attend her, so I thought maybe Ma would come.” Dave glanced at the stall and spotted Lacy’s horse. “I take it Lacy is here.”

“Yup, rode in just after dawn.” He came and took hold of Dave’s mount. “I’ll put your horse away and then I’ll hitch the carriage. Tell your ma I’ll be waiting for her,” his father said. “Could you maybe stay behind and get this hay out to the west field?”

“Sure,” Dave said. “Let me go explain things to Ma, and I’ll get right to it.”

Dave bounded across the yard and leaped up on the porch, easily clearing the three steps as he had when he was a boy.

He entered the house, calling, “Ma!” Making his way through the rooms, Dave headed for the kitchen, where he knew he’d find her at this time of the day.

What he hadn’t expected was to find Lacy Gallatin standing in the kitchen. He’d figured, knowing his mother, Lacy would be tucked into bed somewhere, being pampered and cared for. Lacy looked at him with such wide eyes that Dave knew she was equally surprised to find him there.

“I told them not to send anyone after me,” she muttered and went back to kneading bread dough.

“I didn’t come for you, although I will say it was pretty inconsiderate of you to just ride out like that and worry everyone.”

She looked up and met his gaze. “I left a letter.”

“Yeah, I know. But it certainly didn’t say you were coming to my folks’ place.”

“I didn’t know that I was.”

His mother came in from the porch. “It’s starting to snow again.” She spotted her son and broke into a big smile. “What a nice surprise.”

“Gwen is having her baby and Dr. DuPont is sick. Pa’s hitching the carriage. Can you come and help?”

“Absolutely. Let me get my things,” his mother said. She stopped in midstep, however, and turned back to Lacy. “Can you handle the baking? We can’t let all these loaves of bread go to waste. Oh, but you probably want to be there, too.” Patience looked upset by the dilemma, but Lacy quickly put the matter to rest.

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