Tad's Treasure (Grandma's Wedding Quilts Book 12) Read online

  (Baker City Brides Prequel)

  A Sweet Historical Western Romance

  by

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  Tad’s Treasure

  Copyright © 2017 by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of “permission request” at the e-mail address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  [email protected]

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Cheesy Bread

  Author’s Note

  Books by Shanna Hatfield

  He never intended to fall in love with her…

  Tad Palmer makes a promise to his dying friend to watch over the man’s wife and child. Years later, he continues to keep an eye on Posey Jacobs and her precocious little boy. The only problem is that he’s not sure his heart can withstand the vow he made when he falls in love with the widow and her son.

  Posey Jacobs misses her beloved husband, but her wrenching grief has given way to hope for the future as she finds herself falling deeper and deeper in love with Tad Palmer. However, the infuriating man doesn’t seem to notice her interest and treats her as he would his sister.

  Throw in a goat who thinks she’s a dog, a town full of quirky characters, and this widow has her work cut out for her if she wants one handsome cowboy to give her his heart.

  GRANDMA'S WEDDING QUILTS: Twelve Sweet Western Historical Romance Novellas and Novels from USA Today Bestselling and award-winning authors. Grandma Mary's traditional gift to each of her grandchildren: hand-pieced and hand-stitched quilts, woven with memories, wisdom, and a family legacy of enduring love.

  To Mom -

  For all the memories

  stitched with love…

  Chapter One

  1886

  Baker City, Oregon

  A familiar aroma filled Tad Palmer’s workshop as he skillfully guided a knife through a piece of thick leather.

  The scent of the tanned hide took his thoughts back to childhood summers spent on his family’s ranch in Kansas with a crusty old cowboy named Butch. Thanks to the man’s patient instruction, Tad had learned how to turn leather into saddles known as some of the best in the region.

  As he worked to trim the leather that would eventually line the seat of a stock saddle one of the local ranchers ordered, the bell above his shop door jingled with a cheerful sound of welcome.

  “Be right there,” Tad called as the door clicked shut and the bell quieted. He set aside the knife and hurried through the curtain-covered doorway into the front of his saddle shop. The sight of the man moving down the double row of saddles on display made him smile and stride forward with his hand held out in friendly greeting. “What’s an ugly ol’ cuss like you doing out this early in the day?”

  John Jacobs took his hand and gave it a hearty shake. “Who are you calling an ugly cuss, you cranky ol’ hound? I can’t be too awful bad or I wouldn’t have such a pretty little wife and son.”

  Tad grinned and slapped his friend on the back. “You’ve got that right, I suppose.” He walked over to the stove and used a folded polishing cloth to lift a pot of coffee, filling two cups. After he handed one to John, he took a sip. “What brings you by this morning?”

  John leaned back against the long, polished wooden counter that stood in front of shelves stocked with gloves, oil, bits, and spurs. He took a deep swig of his coffee and grimaced. One eye squeezed shut, as though he tried to reconcile his tastebuds to what he’d just swallowed. “How long has that been percolating?”

  “Not that long.” Tad took another drink just to prove the coffee was passable. “Not all of us have an adoring wife to fetch our slippers, make us coffee, and treat us like a king.”

  John grinned. “Not all women are like my Posey. She’s one of a kind.”

  “Agreed,” Tad said, then nudged John with his elbow. “Then again, I plan to remain single my whole life. I’ve long ago gotten used to drinking my coffee.”

  “It’s an acquired taste, Tad, and one I don’t plan to ever acquire,” John teased, then sobered. “Posey and I keep hoping one of these days we’ll talk some sense into that thick skull of yours and get you to realize not all women are evil and conniving. Just because your…”

  “What can I do for you, John?” Tad asked, cutting him off. The last thing he wanted to do was think about hurts from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Pain that should remain buried.

  John motioned toward the front window with his cup. “I have a load of blasting supplies arriving on the train today. I was hoping I could convince my mining partner to haul it up to the mine for me. I don’t trust anyone but you to haul the explosives.”

  Tad nodded. “I reckon I could take care of it, as long as you remember my partnership in The Limitless remains silent.”

  John shrugged. “It makes no difference to me, but I don’t know why it matters so much to you.”

  “I just want to focus on building up my saddle shop, not on mining. You know you have my support, but I don’t want to be involved in the day to day running of the mine.”

  “I know, partner.” John grinned at him. “Don’t you miss the good old days when we first arrived in town, all as green as new grass?”

  Tad laughed. “No, I do not miss those days. And I’m sure Posey doesn’t either. We lived in tents and hardly had two nickels to rub together. It’s a good thing the mine we went to work for paid well. I told you as soon as I earned enough I was opening my shop.”

  “And you did.” John looked around the tidy store redolent with the scents of leather and oil. “We’ve come a long way in the last six years, haven’t we?”

  “We sure have,” Tad agreed, refilling his coffee cup. “You and Posey have a nice house and little Nathaniel, and own a potentially prosperous mine.”

  “Partly own an almost prosperous mine. The other half is all yours.” John finished the last of his coffee and set the cup on the counter. “You know as well as I do I couldn’t have purchased the mine without your help. The hours and hours of free labor you contributed when I was getting started made all the difference in the world. Posey and I both owe you a big debt.”

  “You would have done the same for me. In fact, you helped me hang every shelf in here and I’m certain your wife charmed half the men in town into coming to purchase something whether they needed it or not when I first opened.”

  John beamed with pride. “That’s my girl. All she has to do is smile and no one can tell he
r no.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, John. You are whipped, and you like it.”

  John laughed. “I certainly do.” He thumped Tad on the back as they moseyed toward the door. “Will it be any trouble to bring the supplies up later?”

  “Not at all. I’ll load them right off the train and bring them up. I can get someone to watch the shop for me for a few hours. Mr. Bentley is always looking for a few extra dollars and it’s too early in the year for the city to pay him to drive the sprinkler wagon over the streets.”

  “That fusty old geezer probably runs off more customers than he helps,” John said, opening the door, allowing a waft of fresh spring air to blow inside.

  Tad chuckled. “Probably, but it makes him feel needed.”

  John settled his hat more firmly on his head then looked at Tad. “Despite what anyone might say, you’re just a big-hearted fool. You know that?”

  “So you’ve told me, more than once. Now get out of here. One of us has a bunch of work to finish before he has to traipse into the mountains with a wagon full of explosives.”

  “If you didn’t want the job of handling transportation of The Limitless Mine’s explosives, you shouldn’t be so good at doing it.”

  Tad snorted. “The alternative to being good at doing it would mean I’d either be maimed or dead, you idiot.”

  John chuckled and jogged toward the horse he’d left tied down the street. “I’ll see you later.”

  Tad waved a hand then stepped inside his shop. Since the early spring morning still carried a nip in the air, he closed the door then returned to his workshop.

  Hours later, he straightened and rolled his shoulders to loosen muscles tightened from bending over and stamping an intricate pattern into leather. Pleased with the progress he made on the saddle, he rubbed his thumb over the design of the left skirt.

  One of the first saddles he’d ever made held a similar pattern. Butch had praised his efforts, telling him he had a natural talent for making saddles that were both a thing of beauty and well crafted. He’d been so proud when he returned home to Virginia with the saddle. The recipient of his precious gift had laughed at him before demanding he get such a ridiculous thing out of her sight.

  Before his memories swamped him, a whistle blew, alerting anyone listening to the arrival of the train.

  Tad set aside his tools, locked the shop’s back door, and then walked out front. Mr. Bentley had already committed himself to helping one of the widows in town repair a section of fence around her yard, so Tad decided just to lock his shop while he was at the mine. He’d stepped outside and started to turn the key in the lock when Posey Jacobs scurried around the corner. She held a baby on one arm while a heavy basket dangled from her other hand

  “What are you doing here?” Tad asked. He took the basket from her hand and then bent down to make a silly face at the infant.

  She smiled as the baby flapped a hand at him in recognition and jabbered excitedly. Tad spent more time than he thought he should eating dinner at the Jacobs’ table. He adored little Nate and held him every chance he got. With no plans to have children of his own, he figured he’d have to enjoy John’s offspring to make up for it.

  “John forgot his lunch this morning, so I thought perhaps you could take it to him. There’s plenty for you both.” Posey tipped her head toward the store behind them. “I didn’t know if you had someone to watch the shop, so Nate and I can stay until you get back.”

  “That’s okay, Posey. It won’t kill my business to be closed for a few hours in the middle of the day.”

  Posey shook her head and turned the key in the lock, unlocking the door before handing the key back to Tad. “We’ll be perfectly fine.”

  “But, there are a lot of sharp tools, knives, and…” Tad started to worry about Nate getting hurt. Or Posey. John would kill him if anything happened to either of them.

  Much to his surprise, she gave him a push with her free hand. “Go on, Tad. It’s not like Nate can get into your tools and I’ll certainly leave them alone.” A teasing grin lit her face. “However, I might do some cleaning in there. When was the last time you washed your windows?”

  “Suit yourself.” Tad backed up a few paces, knowing he needed to get to the train. “I’ll hurry.”

  “Take your time, Tad. It does you good to get outside in the fresh air and it’s such a lovely spring day today.”

  “It is at that, Posey. I’ll see you two in a while.” Tad tipped his hat to her then rushed off in the direction of the train depot. He’d paid one of the boys who stopped by his shop earlier to run over to the livery to get his team and wagon, and then drive them to the depot.

  Easily finding his wagon waiting alongside several others near the train tracks, Tad set the basket of food beneath the seat, checked the harnesses, and then climbed up to the tall seat. He backed the wagon into place in front of one of the train cars and carefully loaded the explosives.

  After steadfastly tying the load with rope so it couldn’t jostle, he drove away from the train station and followed the road leading out of town into the mountains. About halfway up the road, he veered left and followed another road for a few miles. He turned right and guided the horses along a narrow trail for another mile before he arrived at the road to The Limitless.

  All was quiet as he tugged on the reins, pulling the horses to a stop outside the mine. “John?” He listened, wondering where the man could be. Most likely he was deep in the mine, working away.

  Rather than go in search for him, Tad got busy unloading the supplies, using a key from a ring in his pocket to open the padlock on a storage shed where John kept the explosives. With sure, steady movements, Tad unloaded the wagon and then locked the shed.

  “John?” he called again, moving toward the opening of the mine. Tad had hated the long, dark hours spent in mines when he worked beside John. But they’d both needed money to pursue their dreams, so he’d forced himself not to dwell on the cold, dank blackness around him and did his job until he saved enough to open his saddle shop.

  It had been more than a year since he’d opened it and almost a year since he’d become John’s silent partner in the mine.

  “Are you in here, John?” Tad called, stepping inside the mine, squinting into the inky tunnel ahead of him.

  A faint moan reached his ears and sent him into action. He lit a candle in a holder John kept near the door and hurried into the mine. He followed the curve of the tunnel and sucked in a gulp when he saw John pinned against the wall by a collapsed timber. The jagged edge of the wood had pierced his chest.

  “Oh, John,” Tad said, holding up the candle, trying to assess what could be done for his friend. He shoved the candleholder into a rock shelf jutting out at eye level and frantically tried to lift the heavy timber from his friend.

  “Tad?” John’s voice sounded weak when he spoke.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” Determined to move the timber but afraid of what it would do to John when he did, Tad scrambled to clear away rock piled around the man’s unmoving form. “If this is your way of getting out of unloading the wagon, I’d have to say it’s a little extreme, even for you.”

  A noise, something between a laugh and cough, tore from John’s throat then the man turned his glazed gaze on his friend.

  Eyes wide, Tad noticed blood trickling from John’s mouth. He reached for his handkerchief to wipe it away, but John shook his head.

  “Don’t bother,” John rasped, weakly lifting his hand to grasp Tad’s wrist. He took a ragged, wheezing breath. “Promise me?”

  “Anything, John. You know I’d do anything for you.” Tad would have promised the moon at that moment if John had asked for it then found a way to reel it down to him.

  “Take care of Posey and Nate. They’ll need you.” John wheezed again as his grip tightened on Tad’s wrist. “Promise? Take care of them.”

  “I will, John. You know I will, but let’s concentrate on getting you out of here and down the hill to Doc. H
e’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

  Slowly, John’s head shifted back and forth. “Not this time, Tad.” He coughed, blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for being a good friend.”

  “Thank you, John, for being a good friend and closer than a brother.” Tad blinked away the moisture gathering in his eyes and wrapped his arms around the timber. With savage, brute force fueled by desperation, he yanked it away from John.

  A sickening gurgle emanated from his friend’s chest, but Tad ignored it. He lifted John and carried him out to the wagon. Quickly covering him with his coat, Tad leaped up to the seat and drove his team as fast as he dared into town.

  By the time he arrived at the doctor’s office, a small crowd gathered around him. “Someone get Posey. She’s watching my shop,” he said, lifting John’s shoulders as one of the men in the crowd stepped forward and took the limp legs in his hands.

  John opened his eyes as they laid him on a table in the doctor’s examination room. His skin had taken on an ashen hue and his breath came in great gasps. He looked to Tad one final time, silently pleading with him to bend down.

  Tad bent over until his ear was close to John’s mouth. “Treasure my girl, Tad. Take care of her and Nate.”

  “John, I…” At the unmistakable look on his friend’s face, Tad merely nodded, fighting back the tears that stung his eyes. “Partner, I don’t want things to end like this.”

  John blinked twice then closed his eyes. He drew his last breath as the door burst open and Posey rushed inside.

  “John? John!” she screamed.

  Tad stepped in front of her, blocking the gruesome sight of her husband and wrapping the woman in his arms. He could hear Nate fussing from the front office where he’d been unceremoniously left with someone.

  “Everything will be fine, Posey. I promise.”

  Even as he said the words, Tad had no idea how he’d make them come true.