The Widow's Secret Read online

  The Widow’s Secret

  Keepers of the Light Series

  By Marie Higgins

  Copyright © 2020 by Marie Higgins

  Cover Art by Virginia McKevitt

  Editors – Teresa Pearson & Veronica Mesia

  Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  AMELIA FLORENCE IS determined to make her way to Spruce Hill on the Oregon Coast. Her heart tells her that is where she’ll find her grandparents. As a young girl, her parents sailed to Spain but never returned, leaving her traumatized, and with no family. As a widow and caring for her child, she craves family desperately. Along the way, she meets Chet Logan, a man heading toward the same place, who immediately proves he is a protector with a kind heart. But she soon discovers that he’s been following her for a purpose, and his confession is quite unsettling. However, he’s not the only one with secrets...

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  ONE

  Late autumn 1870

  Amelia Florence must calm the quick rhythm of her heartbeat or she wouldn’t succeed in today’s endeavor. Hearing other things besides the blood rushing through her at a fast pace that sounded like drums settling deep in her ears was most imperative. In order to escape this nightmare she’d been living in since she was a young girl of nine, Amelia needed to not only keep her courage, but hold fast to her wits.

  She glanced down at the blonde-headed, five-year-old girl staring up at her with wide eyes. Gracie’s face held pure terror, which broke Amelia’s heart. She took the girl’s cold hand and rubbed warmth into it. The girl pressed her face against Amelia’s skirt and sobbed quietly.

  “Shh,” Amelia whispered. “This will all be over soon, and we’ll be on our way to freedom.”

  Taking a deep breath for courage, she led little Gracie down the steps of the three-story orphanage. Amelia was proud of the little girl for trying her best to be as silent as a mouse. The old house creaked, and the squeaky steps weren’t much better, and the only sound in the house was from most of the fifty-eight children who lived in the orphanage and their night cries.

  Her heart wrenched, knowing full well what they were going through, because at age nine, she, her brother, and sister, were brought to this place after their parents sailed away and never returned. Amelia recalled hearing the words the ship went down the first year of living in the orphanage. Nobody would really tell her what happened to her parents, except they were not coming to get her and her siblings. Within that year, her brother died of pneumonia, and her sister ran away, leaving Amelia a true orphan.

  She remembered crying every night. Not only did she miss her family, but she was scared to fall asleep because then the nightmares would come. The dreams that plagued her were all of the orphanage and the beatings she’d witnessed being done to the other children. She’d prayed that Mr. and Mrs. Stone would never lay a hand on her as they’d done to the others, but she’d feared her prayers would go unanswered. Mr. and Mrs. Stone took to their whiskey bottles like an infant would to milk.

  As Amelia stepped quietly toward the back of the house, she listened carefully for signs of the watchers. The kids in the orphanage had given this title to the cook, the gardener, and the Stone’s oldest son, Lucas. Because Mr. and Mrs. Stone would eventually pass out due to the liquor they’d consumed, they had some of those who were employed with them, watching over the children to make sure nobody ran away.

  Amelia wished she knew how her older sister, Prudence, had gotten away. Amelia also wondered why her sister hadn’t wanted to take her along. Every year, two children went missing, and the rest of the children figured they had somehow escaped. The Stones had become the meanest during this time since the state paid them per child. The more children at the orphanage, the more whiskey the Stones could afford to buy – and consume.

  Gracie’s gasp brought Amelia to a stop, jerking her out of her thoughts – memories from the past she wished she’d never remember again. She glanced down at Gracie. Her big, blue eyes stared up at Amelia.

  “What’s wrong?” Amelia whispered.

  “I forgot my doll.” Tears filled the little girl’s eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie. We can’t go back. We’re almost to the door now, and Uncle Theo will be waiting.”

  The girl’s bottom lip trembled as the tears streaked down her dirt-coated face.

  “We’ll get you another doll, I promise.” Amelia offered her a tender smile, hoping it would ease the girl’s fears because she had no idea how they were going to get the money. She’d worry about that later. Right now, they just needed to get out of here.

  Sniffing, Gracie wiped her hand under her nose and nodded.

  Amelia continued in her journey to freedom, tip-toeing toward the side door where Uncle Theo would meet them out back with a wagon. Theo wasn’t any relation to the children, but they all called him uncle, anyway. The deaf man had taught several of them sign language. He worked for the Stones as their maintenance man, yet Amelia knew he only stayed in this hell hole because he had no other place to go. Most people didn’t know how to act around deaf people, and so he was ridiculed and treated like a disease. Uncle Theo had been the only reason she made it so long at the orphanage. But at age twenty-five, Amelia knew it was time to break away from this place. She was tired of working for the Stones as the children’s schoolteacher without pay. She was also fed up with feeling frightened every night.

  Just as they neared the door, the floor in the corridor squeaked. Amelia froze and Gracie gently bumped into her. The little girl’s body trembled harder. Someone is coming!

  Without another thought, she pulled Gracie into the closest room and closed the door. This room happened to be Mr. Stone’s study. Immediately, their senses were attacked by the reeking whiskey fumes in the air. Gracie pressed her face against Amelia’s skirt as she lifted her thread-barren cloak to her nose. The room was dark, but she closed her eyes and prayed for deliverance.

  The awkward rhythm of the footsteps coming their way could only be one person. Gentry Mills, the gardener. He limped terribly, and after all these years, she knew the sound well. He was not a man she wanted to cross, either. He used horsewhips to discipline the children, and she had scars on her back to prove his abuse.

  The footsteps stopped near the door. Amelia didn’t breathe as she held Gracie against her. The fifty-year-old gardener could hear a cracker drop to the floor from the next room over, and he’d certainly hear Gracie’s panicked sob, Amelia was sure. She prayed this would be the night that his ears didn’t work very well.

  After what seemed to be the longest time she had held her breath, the man’s uneven footsteps finally moved back down the corridor. Slowly, Amelia released her breath, and Gracie’s body relaxed. They couldn’t leave just yet. After all, Gentry was still close enough to hear them.

  As her breathing slowly returned to normal, she actually started to believe her prayers were going to be answered. She and Gracie woul
d make it out of here without being detected, and they, along with Uncle Theo, would start their new lives in Spruce Hill.

  Releasing a sigh, she opened her eyes and scanned the study. Her vision adjusted to the darkness, and there was a small amount of light coming from the slit through the ripped curtains. The moon must be bright tonight.

  Suddenly, her gaze landed on the bulky figure lying on the broken sofa. Her chest tightened and she didn’t dare breathe. As she studied the lump, she realized it was in the same shape as Mr. Stone. Gracie gasped, and Amelia realized the girl must have seen him, too.

  Mr. Stone lay still with one arm over his eyes as one foot hung off the sofa’s armrest, and the second foot on the floor. His other hand hovered over an empty whiskey bottle, and... a wad of bills. Amelia knew immediately that the man was passed out cold. She’d seen him this way so often in the sixteen years she’d been here, and she also knew he wouldn’t wake up until after the midday meal.

  Mr. Stone’s stillness did not ease Amelia’s mind in the least. The man had always frightened her. His bushy-bearded face and his quick temper would always be in her nightmares.

  Amelia glanced at the wad of bills again. She sucked in a surprised breath. There was so much money. The state must have paid the Stones for the children and yet... Amelia had never seen him or his wife with that much money before.

  Gracie tugged on Amelia’s skirt and pointed to the money. The little girl’s eyes held a touch of wonderment as she peered up at Amelia.

  The money would certainly help them escape, and it was probably enough to buy food for their journey. The money would even be able to buy Gracie a new doll. They’d all be able to buy warmer cloaks to wear since Idaho’s weather was getting colder by the day. Not to mention... the Stone’s hadn’t paid Amelia for teaching the children, and they owed her.

  Still, she didn’t dare walk any closer to Mr. Stone than she had to. He reeked of alcohol and another foul odor she couldn’t name... and what if he woke up? No, she couldn’t take the chance.

  She looked down at Gracie and shook her head, silently communicating with the girl that they couldn’t take the money. Gracie scowled and she straightened her shoulders in defiance. Amelia’s heart dropped, knowing exactly what the girl was thinking.

  Gracie moved away from Amelia, so she grasped the girl’s shoulder, stopping her. Gracie glared at her and shook her head, pointing toward the money.

  “No,” Amelia whispered.

  Gracie’s hands signed the words, we deserve it. Amelia shook her head again and Gracie signed, they owe you that money.

  A lump of fear grew in Amelia’s throat. The money would definitely help them. And the Stone’s did owe her.

  Gracie slipped out of Amelia’s grasp and tiptoed toward the drunken man on the couch. Holding her breath, Amelia prayed again. She didn’t want to think of their punishment if Mr. Stone awoke and saw them in his study, stealing his money.

  On light feet, Gracie made it to the wad of bills, very carefully bent and picked it up. She looked at Amelia and smiled. Her heart softened, knowing that the little girl hadn’t smiled much since she was brought to the orphanage six months ago.

  The girl glanced at Mr. Stone and, wrinkling her nose, she stuck out her tongue at him. Amelia bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh. Every child who’d been raised in this place had wanted to do that – or worse – but they didn’t dare.

  Once Gracie returned to Amelia’s side, she breathed a sigh of relief. Gracie stuffed the money in Amelia’s wrist purse before giving the let’s go nod. Without another thought, Amelia slowly opened the door and peeked into the darkened hallway. She listened for the gardener’s uneven walk, but she couldn’t hear him. She hoped that meant he wasn’t on this side of the large manor.

  Together, she and Gracie crept toward the door. Amelia opened it up and let Gracie hurry outside first, before following quickly. The cool air touched her face, and she breathed in the fresh air while she searched the yard for Uncle Theo. She couldn’t see him, or a wagon.

  Her heart sank lower than the Pacific Ocean, which was the very place they’d start heading once they could get on their way. But without a wagon, how could they travel that far?

  Gracie tugged on Amelia’s skirt again. The little girl pointed to the cluster of trees. The clouds had moved across the moon, making it harder to see, but finally, Amelia noticed the figure of a man and he was waving his arms.

  She sighed in relief. Uncle Theo!

  Both Amelia and Gracie dashed across the yard as fast as their legs could take them. Because she still held onto the little girl’s hand, Amelia probably dragged the girl more times than Gracie had used her feet.

  They reached Uncle Theo. Breathless, Amelia signed the words where is the wagon? He signed back, near the road.

  She didn’t want to feel they were free just yet. Once they had passed the Idaho border, then – and only then – would Amelia feel safe.

  They snuck through the trees as fast as they could toward the road with Uncle Theo leading the way. Finally, she saw the outline of the wagon. The beat of her heart quickened with anticipation. Perhaps the clouds covering the moon right now was the Lord’s way of helping them escape because from the manor, anyone looking out the north windows would be able to see them leaving.

  They reached the wagon and Uncle Theo helped them up. Amelia sat in the bed of the vehicle and wrapped Gracie in her arms. Theo whipped the reins, urging the horse forward.

  Amelia stared at the manor where she’d lived for sixteen very long and agonizing years slowly fade from sight. Tears ran down her face. Finally, she felt that their escape had been successful. Maybe now she and Gracie could live a normal life free of nightly terrors.

  Thanksgiving was a time of celebration, and since the Stones refused to have the big dinner at their orphanage last week, Amelia celebrated the holiday silently. She had never been so grateful in her life than she was now.

  As she thought about traveling to Oregon – the last known place where her grandparents had lived – she wondered how an unmarried woman and a little girl could make it. An idea hit her immediately as if it was meant to be.

  She would tell everyone she was a widow, and that Gracie was her daughter. Depending on how long Theo would want to travel with them, would depend upon his role in their lives. However, he would always be Uncle Theo to both her and Gracie.

  A smile touched Amelia’s mouth and she sighed. She’d been an orphan for too long. From this point forward, she now had a daughter and an uncle.

  TWO

  After searching for the woman who had kidnapped Mayor Tidwell’s five-year-old daughter from Astoria, Oregon, Chet Logan had found her – and the girl. Of course, they were traveling from Idaho to Oregon, but at least his talent for tracking people had paid off. Chet had always located and captured the assignments that were given him as a bounty hunter.

  One question grew inside him. Why would a kidnapper return to the state where she’d committed the crime? There was something about this case that puzzled him, but the only way he’d figure it out was to somehow get close to them in hopes of overhearing their conversations. The woman was bound to slip up sometime.

  Chet leaned against the outside wall of the mercantile store and peered at the woman and the little girl through the large window. A gentle mist of rain fell from the sky, and he pulled his hat lower on his forehead, protecting his eyes as he watched his subject. A middle-aged man was also part of the trio. Chet wasn’t certain if the man was dangerous or not, but apparently, he was deaf. Both the woman and the girl made signs with their hands as they spoke to him. This was a disadvantage for Chet because he had no clue what they were saying.

  When the trio walked further into the store and out of sight, Chet decided to go inside and out of the drizzling rain. That would be the only way he could watch their interactions and hear them talking to other people. He walked in and removed his hat, gently tapping it against his thigh to remove the excess water.

/>   The store was larger than most that he’d been inside, but since this was the only mercantile for several miles, it would have to accommodate everyone who lived in this county. The clothes selections were so much better than he’d seen, too. Perhaps he should get himself another hat since this one was damp.

  He moved toward the wall with hats lining the shelves, but instead, his gaze scoped out the trio looking at a dress for the little girl. The curly-hair blonde girl had the sweetest smile, and when she looked up at the woman beside her, the girl’s eyes lit up like birthday candles. Had she even realized she’d been kidnapped? She definitely didn’t act like it. However, she was the missing girl. She was the exact image of the girl in the miniature picture he’d been given when he first started looking for her.

  “Oh, please, Mother? Can I get this dress?” The little girl batted her long eyelashes at the woman beside her.

  Mother? No, this girl was not the woman’s daughter. They didn’t look anything alike. Although they both had strikingly pretty faces, the girl was blonde and the woman had black hair. He had to admit, the captor was lovelier than he thought she’d be for being a kidnapper... and a murderer.

  His tracking had taken him to an orphanage in southern Idaho. When he arrived, he learned that the schoolteacher, Miss Florence, had not only taken the little girl when they left the place two weeks ago, but she’d killed Mr. Stone, the owner of the orphanage. There was a huge price on Miss Florence’s head, and Chet was determined to collect the reward.

  Miss Florence lifted her gaze as if trying to find someone, so Chet quickly pretended to be looking for a hat. He pulled a black felt hat off the shelf and placed it on his head, adjusting it back and forth, checking the size. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Miss Florence looking his way, and from what he could tell, she was staring at him. He continued to pretend that he hadn’t noticed her as he removed the hat and placed another one on his head.

  Finally, she turned away from Chet and started making hand signs to the middle-aged man. When the man glanced Chet’s way, he knew something was up... especially when the woman started walking toward him. He removed the ill-fitting hat and straightened his shoulders.