Chapter One

Louise McCloud Brookfield could smell that her strawberry muffins were done. Rachel had taught her to use her nose to figure out when food was done in the cook stove, since Lou couldn't keep the old stove at a constant temperature. Most of her first baking ventures had been disastrous, but she was steadily improving. As she carefully pulled the muffins out of the old stove, she could see they were absolutely perfect. She smiled with satisfaction.

At first, Lou was tempted to sample one of her creations, but that thought was pushed aside as a wave of nausea swept over her. At five months into her pregnancy, she had little desire to eat, and it was usually accompanied by an overreaction to smells. Louise often found herself vomiting at the drop of a hat, but she did her best to conceal it, knowing Kid would spend all his time worrying about her instead of the criminals he was supposed to apprehend and guard as Rock Creek's deputy marshall.

She rushed through the tiny dwelling and opened all the windows, letting the fresh spring breeze in to clear out the smell. Once the muffins had cooled, she carefully placed them in a basket, walked out the door, and descended the stairs to the alley.

"Well if you don't brighten up this sorry little place, I don't know what will," Teaspoon announced at Louise's arrival at the jail.

"I brought you all somethin'," she told Teaspoon and Kid. "Somethin' I baked," she added proudly.

Teaspoon's eyes widened. Lou was not known for her cooking skills; rather her lack of skills in the kitchen. "Well, now..." the marshall was at a loss for words.

"Aw, Teaspoon, she's been practicin'," Kid told him. "You know how roly-poly the stray dogs around here are gettin'. That's from Lou's cookin'. Anything she thinks ain't fit to eat she feeds to them," he continued. Looking to Louise and smiling he said, "These must be good or you wouldn'ta brought 'em."

"I hope so," Lou answered. "Least they smell good."

Kid helped himself to one of the muffins, taking a big bite out of the largest muffin he could find in the basket. Despite his confident words to Teaspoon, he was somewhat leery of what they might taste like, but he knew Lou had been working hard on her cooking, and he didn't want to discourage her in any way. To his delight, the muffins were delicious.

"Mmm!" Kid mumbled, his mouth full. "They're good, Teaspoon. Try 'em!"

"Why don't ya give mine to the prisoner," the marshall suggested.

"Teaspoon, you're gettin' too conservative in your old age. Ya gotta live a little," Kid prodded him.

"Naw, Kid. That's what yer here for," Teaspoon reminded him. "I done my livin'. Well, most of it. And I'd like to keep livin', if ya know what I mean."

"Well Kid ain't keelin' over dead, so they must be fine," Lou said haughtily.

Walking over to the corner cell, she held out the basket of muffins to the man behind the bars. He was tall, she could tell. And muscular. He had a square jaw and eyes that were a brighter blue than Kid's, if that was possible. His ebony hair was the darkest she'd ever seen, and he needed a shave.

"Would ya like one?" she offered.

There was a slight smile from the man as he reached through the bars for a muffin from the basket.

"Thanks," he said with his mouth full. "They are good. Maybe you could give my sister lessons." Lou heard a distinct Irish accent in his words.

"I think it's a tad early for that," Kid warned. "Lou, 'member what we talked about?"

Ignoring her husband, who didn't want her fraternizing with the inmates, Louise asked, "Who's your sister?"

"Her name's Margaret Macauley," he answered. "Ya prob'ly ain't seen her around 'cause she's out doin', I don't know, whatever she does," he added with frustration.

"I'd love to meet her some time, Mr. Macauley," Louise answered. "She about my age?" she asked hopefully."

"I s'pose," he answered. "She's nearin' eighteen, but ya wouldn't know it seein' the way she acts."

"I'm eighteen," Louise told him. "I'd love to meet her. We might end up bein' friends."

After Noah and Cassie's wedding the month before, they'd moved up north to Wisconsin, where they were helping former slaves start new lives in the free state, or aiding them in their continuing journey to freedom in Canada. Louise desperately missed the company of a woman her own age. Rachel was so busy with the school and her ranch and Kid was sometimes gone for days at a time or awakened in the middle of the night by some disturbance at the saloon. Lou longed for a friend she could spend time with, chatting away the hours.

"Does your sister know you're here?" Louise suddenly asked suspiciously. Before hearing the answer, she turned to Kid and said, "What's he in for, anyhow?"

"Public drunkenness," Kid answered simply. "Started a brawl at the saloon, so we brought him here to sleep it off."

"Well he looks perfectly sober to me," she declared. "You should let him go before his sister finds out. If I know women, she'll be madder than a hornet's nest if she finds 'im here."

"That we don't need," Teaspoon declared. "One woman arguin' for your release is about all I can handle today, Macauley." He took the keys out from his drawer and walked over to the cell, unlocking and opening the door. Macauley was free to go.

"Ma'am," he said, placing his hat on his head and tipping it to Lou as Kid handed him his gunbelt.

"Don't be usin' that thing, Patrick," Kid advised. "We surely don't want to upset your sister now do we?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Patrick Macauley answered as he left the Rock Creek jail.