Free California Romance by Colleen L. Reece Page B

and cheese ancient, but Bertha was proudly lifting out the sorriest excuse for cake Matt had ever seen. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, it would have been hilarious. Matt quickly said, “Mrs. Bascomb, I missed out on a box. Is there enough for three?”
    “If you ain’t too big an eater,” she grudged. “I don’t want to skimp on this young man.”
    Seth remained gallant. “My boss and I had a big dinner so there should be enough.”
    The two men somehow choked down the terrible meal, amid grinning townsfolk and cowboys. Looks of respect showed that Seth Anderson’s kindly bid had endeared him to Madera.

    Matt’s stomach had barely recovered from the box social when a few days later a young lad galloped up to the Diamond S corral where Matt and Seth were leaning against the fence. He reined in his horse and leaped from the saddle.
    Matt blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here, Johnny? And how come you’re in such an all-fired hurry?”
    Johnny rubbed a grimy hand over his freckled, sweaty face. “Telegram. Mr. Moore said I was s’posed to get it here pronto.”
    Matt’s heart lurched. A lump as solid as Bertha Bascomb’s sour bread and heavy cake formed in the pit of his stomach. He hated telegrams, especially since Dori had gone back east. Had something happened to her? Matt shook his head. It was far more likely that his impetuous sister had been expelled from the eastern academy she attended. Matt had received previous warnings about Dori’s conduct. Her shortcomings had only been tolerated by the grace of God and several generous contributions to the prestigious Brookside Finishing School for Young Ladies in Boston.
    Matt reached for the telegram.
    Johnny shook his head. “It ain’t for you, Matt,” he said. “It’s for Seth.” He tossed a soiled envelope to the younger man. “From St. Louis.”
    Seth’s face went paper white.
    Alarm shot through Matt as Seth ripped open the message. “Is it about Sarah?” he demanded. “Bad news?”
    Seth looked stricken.
“The worst.”
    “Well?”
Matt’s question cracked like a bullwhip.
    “Read it for yourself.” Seth thrust the telegram at Matt, eyes filled with pain and hopelessness.
    Matt snatched the message and read:
    S ARAH D ISAPPEARED
S TOP
M AY C OME TO M ADERA
S TOP
H OLD FOR
F IANCÉ T ICE E DWARDS AND M E
S TOP
G US S TODDARD
    The words slashed at Matt’s heart like a hunting knife, cutting and tearing until he could barely breathe. Sarah engaged to be married? “Who is this Tice Edwards fellow?” he demanded.
    Seth looked defeated. “A real rat. Everyone in St. Louis knows him. He owns a riverboat where folks go to gamble.”
    Matt caught his breath. Such a monstrous thing couldn’t be true. Not when he had fallen in love with her picture. How could such a sweet and innocentlooking girl be promised to a riverboat gambler?

Chapter 10
    T he news that Tice planned to wed her the following day sent Sarah into a panic. She must disappear. Tonight. But how? At least Gus and Tice hadn’t waited until evening to spring the bad news. By midnight the children would be asleep, and the two men she hated and feared most would probably be having an early celebration: Tice, knowing tomorrow he would have her in his control, and Gus, ecstatic at having his six-thousand-dollar debt forgiven and at receiving unlimited gambling privileges.
    Sarah checked the time. It wasn’t quite six. No wonder Gus had been grumpy. After his nights of gambling and carousing, he tended to sleep much later. “Lord,” she whispered while beating the biscuit dough until it threatened to fight back, “I have eighteen hours. If I fly around and finish my chores quicker than usual, I should be able to make it.”
    A single glance around the shack sent hope plummeting to her toes. The place had never looked worse. How could she accomplish everything from washing the streaked windows to scrubbing the worn floor? She also needed to bake and wash clothes. Gus