Free Winter's Torment by Katie Wyatt Page B

Olsen, one of the town’s best blacksmiths.”
    Winter stared at Henry Olsen, who also stared at her. He glanced at the deputy and smiled. “Bat, may I introduce you to my fiancée, Winter Lindstrom?”
    The deputy guffawed and slapped the blacksmith on the shoulder. “You devil. I always knew you had it in you.”
    The deputy turned to Winter and once again tipped his hat. “Congratulations to both of you,” he said, and then bid a quick farewell.
    Winter shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She didn’t want to stare, but Mister Olsen was massive ! He didn’t wear a hat, and she noted his dark, curly hair was long, brushing his collar in the back. A day or two’s growth of beard darkened his cheeks. He wasn’t handsome by any vivid stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t ugly either. He wasn’t heavy, just solid.
    And here she was, looking so puny beside him.
    “My, my, my,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “May I say you’re a very lovely woman, Winter?” He extended a hand hesitantly toward a stray strand of hair that had escaped her bonnet, and then let it drop down by his side. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen hair like yours. It’s lighter than the color of corn silk!”
    “According to my mother, that’s how I got my name,” Winter said, trying to make conversation. “She said when I was born, my hair was nearly white. Coupled with my fair skin and blue eyes, she couldn’t think of a more appropriate name.”
    Henry smiled down at her. “The name suits you perfectly.” He gestured down the street. “Excuse me for the way I look,” he said, ruefully rubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw. “I wasn’t sure if your train was arriving today or tomorrow. I’ve been meeting it every day this week.”
    She made a sound to imply that she didn’t mind. “I understand. Please don’t worry about it.”
    “I have a blacksmith shop in town, but it’s not a fit place for a woman,” he continued, speaking quickly. “I also have a ranch about four miles outside of town. If you have no objections, we’ll stay tonight at the Dodge House, and then first thing in the morning we’ll go visit the preacher.”
    Winter’s heart thudded dully in her chest. She supposed there was nothing else she could do. She had informed Henry about her divorce, but apparently the scandal of divorce didn’t come with the same impact out west as it did in her native hometown. She wondered about that. She had also briefly mentioned the fact that she had lost her child. He hadn’t asked questions, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he was being polite, to spare her pain, or because he just didn’t care. Looking up at him, she decided that it wasn’t the latter.
    He looked like a kind enough man, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes bespoke a sense of humor. Still, what did she know? They had only exchanged two letters, and one could only express so much in writing. In them he had told her that he owned a blacksmith shop in Dodge City, and that his ranch outside of town, where he ran a large herd of cattle. Longhorn cattle. That was about it.
    One thing she did get a sense of was that Henry Olsen was pleased that she had finally arrived. The journey had taken a couple of weeks, and she was tired, worn out, and her emotions were a jumbled mess.
    “It will take them a few minutes to unload luggage,” he said, gesturing toward the back of the train. “Would you like to get something to eat at the hotel? Then we can come back for your luggage later.”
    Winter nodded. “Whatever you think is best, Mister… Henry,” she said.
    He grinned down at her, extended his arm, elbow bent. She tentatively lifted her hand to place it on his forearm. It was so big she doubted she could span her fingers around it. As they walked down the dirt covered street into the city proper, Winter could only hope and pray… or hope at least, that Henry was a good man who would treat her well and provide for