CHANGE OF HEART
By Fran Shaff
A Fran Shaff Family Novel
Historical Romance for Everyone Who Loves a Love Story.
Change of Heart By Fran Shaff
All Rights Reserved
When you’ve finished reading “Change of Heart,” be sure to read the “Previews Section” following the story where you’ll find information and excerpts from more acclaimed Fran Shaff books--Historical Romance, Romantic Comedy, Dramatic Contemporary Romance, Contemporary Romance, Young People’s Novels
REVIEWS and Acclaim For Change of Heart
5 STARS from Simegen.com The author, Fran Shaff, has sewn together a gripping, warmhearted romance filled with suspense that will have you, the reader, weeping tears of sadness and of joy for the sweetest couple that has hit the pages of books for a long time.
5 HEARTS from The Romance Studio. Ms. Shaff has written a magnificent heart-stirring book. Many times I found myself crying out loud, then releasing a wonderful sigh. Ms Shaff is a gifted writer that always delivers in her stories.
5 STARS from CataRomance. This book is not to be missed.
5 CUPS from Coffee Time Romance. I didn’t want the story to end.
4 BLUE RIBBONS from Romance Junkies: Fran Shaff does an amazing job pulling the reader into the story so that you feel like you’re really part of it. I became so involved, I’d read all the way through the story before I even realized it, and was extremely impressed to find myself so emotionally involved that I cried at several points.
4 ANGELS from Fallen Angel Reviews. Fran Shaff did a great job in bringing together the heartache of losing a loved one and the joy of finding new love. Great Job.
MyShelf.com. I highly recommend this endearing novel to anyone who enjoys old-fashioned romance.
DEDICATION
For all of the good people of Nebraska, one of my home states
Chapter One
Marietta Randolf pulled her aching body from the stagecoach which had shaken her insides for the last two hundred miles. Her tired gaze drifted over the vast Nebraska wilderness. She didn’t like it. She could scarcely believe anyone would willingly live in the Nebraska territory, let alone her beloved sister Kathy.
The journey to Fort Kearney from Chicago had been a miserable one, especially since leaving the steamboat on the Missouri River south of Omaha. Stagecoach treks were not for city ladies; they were for mules and men and other wild creatures. Marietta found it amazing that in the modern age of the late 1850s, travel to the west was still so primitive.
She massaged the aching muscles in her back as best she could without drawing too much attention to herself. She doubted her body would ever forgive her for leaving civilization.
“Do you see your young man, Miss Randolf?” Mr. Henshaw, a fellow passenger, asked.
“My young man? Oh, you mean my nephew Zack.”
“Yes, ma’am. I don’t see any children.”
“Likely he’s inside the fort. However,” Marietta said, looking around, “I am expecting someone to meet me. I don’t see him yet.”
Mr. Henshaw tipped the hat hiding his gray hair, smoothed a hand over his dark suit, and lit his deep-blue eyes the way he’d done numerous times on the ride from the river. “I need to board the stage once again, Miss Randolf. The driver has taken down your bags. He’s ready to leave.”
Marietta eyed the driver who’d refused to give a body two extra minutes to rest anywhere along his route. “It’s been a pleasure to know you, Mr. Henshaw,” she said, looking at him again. What she told him was a lie, of course. He’d been a bother since they’d boarded the coach. His annoying parlance had blown through the conveyance as constantly as the prairie wind. In an apparent attempt to impress her with his intelligence, he unceasingly misquoted the Bible, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Charles Dickens.
Mr. Henshaw took Marietta’s hand. “Again, Miss Randolf, I offer my sympathies over the loss of your esteemed sister. God be with you in your time of sorrow and always. He’ll be with you in your new life with your nephew as well.”
“Thank you, Mr. Henshaw,” Marietta said, forcing a smile in the direction of the annoying man who was finally behaving in a gracious manner.
He released her hand and returned to the stagecoach. He waved from the window as the coach pulled away.
Marietta nodded and watched the violent vehicle shake and roll over the colorless prairie.
A sudden gust of late-November wind chilled her.
“God’s Cathedral,” she mumbled, repeating what Mr. Henshaw had called this barren wilderness. Marietta would never understand how he saw Heaven in the countryside which, to her, surely had to be a reflection of Hell itself.
“I beg your pardon?” A deep voice startled her.
Marietta turned and found a man staring down at her. He was covered in black from hat to boots, except for the red bandana around his neck.
“Did you say something?” he asked, fastening his dark wool coat shut over his black shirt and waistcoat. “I heard you speaking and thought you’d seen or heard me approaching. Were you talking to me?”
“No, of course not. Just thinking aloud I guess,” she replied, slightly unnerved at being met by such an attractive man. She’d been afraid all men who inhabited the prairie were as old and annoying as Mr. Henshaw.
He nodded toward her. “Nothing wrong with that.” He took off his wide-brimmed felt hat, revealing a mass of dark molasses hair. “I’m Jason Kent, ma’am. Zack’s been staying with me on my ranch,” he said, fingering the brim of his hat.
Another chilling breeze washed over her. Marietta shivered and pulled her wool cape tight around her. “Thank you for looking after my nephew, Mr. Kent.”
“It’s been my pleasure.”
“How is Zack?”
“He’s doing quite well, considering what he’s been through. He wanted to come with me, but I thought it best for him to wait at the fort.”
Marietta nodded and shivered again.
He reached toward her and tugged her cape tighter around her. “You’re freezing,” he said. “We’d best get you inside.” He looked at Marietta’s luggage and returned his hat to his head. “I’ll have to make a couple of trips to take your things to the Carsons.’”
“I’m sorry to be such a bother,” Marietta said as she watched the accommodating man easily hoist her heavy trunk on one shoulder while he picked up another of her bags.
“No trouble, Miss Randolf. You’ve had a long trip. It’s cold this time of year, and you had to be prepared.” He inclined his head toward the stand of buildings inside Fort Kearney. “Go straight ahead, ma’am. I’m taking you to Lieutenant Will Carson’s quarters. His wife Amy has a place for you and Zack to stay tonight.”
“How wonderful, and how kind of Mrs. Carson to take us in.” The thought of being inside a real home again offered Marietta a great deal of relief.
“She’s a fine woman, Miss Randolf. God-fearing and kind.” He took a few steps in silence then asked, “Was your trip to your satisfaction?”
“Certainly not.”
“Problems, ma’am?”
“I’m afraid a stagecoach rides nothing like the surreys we have in Chicago. But then, our streets are more navigable than these rutted prairies.”
“Yes, they are.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “You’ve been to Chicago?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was there when Clint met and married Kathy.”
Marietta shunned the heartbreak which plagued her at the mention of Kathy’s marriage. “You were there? At the wedding?”
“No, ma’am, I knew about the wedding, but I didn’t attend. They eloped you know.”
“You knew they were getting married? Why didn’t you stop
them?”
“Stop them?”
“Yes, you should have stopped them, someone should have stopped them.” If Kathy hadn’t married Clint, she’d still be alive.
“I don’t think anyone could have stopped them, Miss Randolf. They were quite determined and both of age.” He stared down at her, shifting the heavy burden he carried on his shoulder. “Did you try to stop them, ma’am?”
“Yes, of course,” she said on a sigh, “but, if I couldn’t make it snow in July, I couldn’t stop Kathy from leaving with Clint.” Kathy had possessed a mind of her own. She’d often ignored even the teachings they’d been raised on and done as she’d darn well pleased.
“Exactly, Miss Randolf. I’m not sure if even God Himself could have kept Clint and Kathy apart. They belonged together more than any two people I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Mr. Kent, I’d rather not talk about Kathy right now, if you don’t mind.” Losing Kathy to Clint had been bad enough. Now that she’d lost her to death, Marietta could barely stand to think of the pain of the loss of her sister. It ate at her like a disease.
“I’m sorry, Miss Randolf. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s find my quarters for the night, please, Mr. Kent. I’m very tired.”
“Yes, ma’am. That way.” He inclined his head toward the fort.
Upon entering the compound, Marietta took in the layout of Fort Kearney. Five unpainted wooden houses stood next to an open square. A large number of mud and sod buildings ran from the square out along the roads into the fort. Young cottonwood trees lined the borders, the only shrubbery visible for miles. A flagstaff rose in the middle of the square. Various guns and weapons stood within the fort. Marietta was unfamiliar with their capabilities, but they looked sturdy and reliable enough to protect the fort from hostile attack.
On the west side of the open area stood a large house, unpainted and rather unusually shaped. Opposite the large house was a long building which rather reminded Marietta of an eastern barn. The two-story dwelling was, no doubt, a barracks for the soldiers. All in all, the buildings of the fort seemed run down and in need of repair.
“The Carsons live in the wooden structure over there,” Mr. Kent said, setting down Marietta’s bag and pointing.
“Would you like to rest a minute, Mr. Kent? The trunk must be getting heavier with each step we’ve taken.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. My burden is light compared to what I have to carry around at my ranch sometimes.” He picked up her bag again. “Go ahead, Miss Randolf. I’ll follow you to the Carsons’ now that you know where they live.”
When they arrived at the Carsons’ tiny home, the door flung open, and a little boy darted from the doorway to Mr. Kent, grabbing his leg. Marietta thought surely the boy, whom she assumed was five-year-old Zack, would knock the man over, but Mr. Kent stood as firmly as a cedar in a storm.
“Jase! Why did you leave me, Jase?”
“I went to meet the stage, Zack. You knew your aunt was arriving today.”
“But you shoulda taken me with you.”
“You were sleeping, son. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“It was only a nap.” The boy scratched through his blonde curls. “You could’ve waked me.”
Jase set Marietta’s belongings on the porch and scooped the boy into his arms. “This is your aunt, Zack. Marietta Randolf, your mother’s sister.”
Marietta smiled at Zack and moved closer to him. “Hello, sweetheart. Your mama wrote me many letters telling me about you.”
Zack pulled away from her and hid his face in Mr. Kent’s shoulder. “I want to go home, Jase.”
“We’ve come to the fort to meet Aunt Marietta,” he said, pulling the boy’s face from his shoulder and forcing Zack to look at him. “I told you she was coming to take care of you. You and I talked about that.”
Zack shook his head. “You told me, but I didn’t want to hear.”
“Don’t worry, Zack, it will be all right. You’ll like Chicago,” Marietta said, reaching toward the boy and touching his cheek. “You’ll go to fine schools and have all sorts of children to play with. There’s so much to do in the city, you can’t even imagine.”
He pulled away from her. “I got plenty to do and a fine home here with Jase. I don’t need no children to play with or no fine schools. I got Jase. He plays with me and teaches me all I need to know. I don’t need anyone else.”
Jase held the boy away from him. “I’m not your family, Zack. Miss Randolf is. She’s your ma’s sister. She’ll give you a wonderful home and be a good mother to you.” He set the boy down.
Zack stared at his feet. “My ma’s gone. I don’t need a ma anymore.” He looked up at Jase. “All I need is you.”
Jase hunched down next to him and took off his hat. “Son,” he said, fingering the wide brim, “we talked about this. A boy needs to be with his family. It’s God’s way. Your ma wants you well cared for and loved. She wants you with your aunt.”
The talk of Kathy’s demise and her wishes for Zack grieved Marietta to the point of collapse. She moved next to the porch, steadied herself, and listened as Zack and Jase went on.
“I don’t want to leave you, Jase.”
He rubbed his hand over his face and focused on Zack. “I know, son, but you’ve got to be a man about this. Miss Randolf has traveled a long way to come for you. You belong with her. Believe me,” Jase said encouragingly, “you’re going to love Chicago. It’s an elegant, wonderful city. I know. I’ve seen it.”
Tears trickled from Zack’s blue eyes across his rosy cheeks. “Jase,” he said thoughtfully, “I don’t understand why I can’t stay here with you.” He wiped his nose on his blue-calico shirtsleeve. “But I’ll leave if you say I have to. I’ll do anything you say.”
He embraced the child. “You’re a good soldier, son. You’ll see. You’ll like living in the city.”
The boy pulled away from him and looked up. “If you say so, Jase.”
He touched Zack’s cheek and stood, glancing at Marietta. “Go inside now,” he said, looking at Zack. “See if you can help Miss Amy.”
“Okay, Jase.” He shuffled up the steps and turned back to look at him. “I always do what you say, but I don’t want to leave you.” He quickly turned and went inside.
The second the door closed, Marietta allowed a few determined tears to trickle down her cheeks as she sat on the porch and dangled her legs over the edge. She pulled a hanky from the pocket of the coat she wore under her cape and wiped her face and nose.
Jase sat next to her, fingering the hat in his hands. “I’m sorry about Zack. He’s been through a lot, but he’ll be all right.”
Marietta looked up at him.
“Zack will be all right,” Jase repeated, “and so will you.”
“Of course he will,” she said, looking away. Would either of them ever really be all right again? she wondered.
“Miss Randolf?” He paused. “Ma’am, if you’re up to it, there’s a bit of business we need to discuss.”
“Business? What do you mean?”
“About your return trip to Chicago. I know the events of these last few weeks have probably made you feel like you’re stuck in a whirlwind, and I’m sorry I’m about to make matters even more chaotic.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
He twisted the brim of the hat in his hands. “You see, I’ve arranged for your immediate return, just as you requested in your letter. You’ll leave in the morning with a caravan of three other wagons heading for the Missouri River. You’ll board a boat at the river and take passage back to the city.”
Marietta started to weave when darkness began settle over her. She nearly passed out at the thought of traveling again so soon.
Jase steadied her with a strong hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, Miss Randolf?”
She rubbed a gloved hand over her face, hoping to wipe away weeks o
f fatigue. “I’m fine, Mr. Kent, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to leave tomorrow. I won’t leave until I’ve paid my respects to Kathy and Clint.”
He let go of her shoulder. “But, it’s all been arranged.”
“Surely one day won’t make any difference.”
A peculiar look filled his eyes. “One day?” he said thoughtfully. Was that empathy she saw in his eyes? Understanding? Compassion?
“Yes, one day. Do you suppose you could talk the leader of the caravan into waiting a single day so I can visit the grave of my sweet Kathy?”
He raised his hand, and, for a moment, she thought he was going to touch her cheek. “Ma’am, refusing your modest request would be impossible,” he said softly. “I’ll arrange for your journey to be delayed a day or two.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kent,” she said, giving him a trace of a smile. “Could I prevail upon you with one more request?”
“Yes, of course.”
She swallowed hard. He’d done so much for her already, but she needed his help. “Could you take me to Kathy?”
He issued her a comforting smile. “We’ll go first thing in the morning, if you’d like. The Morgans were the closest friends I’ve ever had, and it would be my sincere pleasure to help Kathy’s sister in any way I can.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Thank you, Mr. Kent. You can take me any time you’re ready.”
Chapter Two
“Welcome to our home, Miss Randolf.”
Marietta stepped inside the modest quarters of Lieutenant and Mrs. Will Carson. “I hope I’m not imposing too much.”
“You’re not imposing at all. It’s a delight to have your company.” Amy looked at Jase who was standing on the porch behind Marietta. “Come in here.”
He entered and smiled at her.
Zack ran to him, but Amy caught the boy in her arms before he reached Jase. He struggled against her hold on him. “Jase, save me,” Zack said, giggling as he reached for Jase.