His Wagon Train Sweetheart: Prairie Brides

By Catherine Kennedy

Riding the Santa Fe Trail is a difficult and lonely profession...especially for a girl named George.

Georgianna Walton's father sat her on the back of a horse the moment she could sit up straight. Ever since, they have traveled together from one side of the country to the other with no place to call home. With no mother to guide her, George has learned everything she knows from her father, Harry, but she wants nothing more than to settle down and have a place to call home.

Elijah Mitchell is traveling to Santa Fe to take up a position as a doctor. However, when Harry has an accident on the trail, Eli cannot leave him alone on the prairie. While he ministers to the cantankerous old man, his mother begins to teach George all the things her own mother could not. 

She is a wild woman from the west...he is a very proper doctor from back east—can they form the unlikeliest of partnerships out in the wild, untamed Kansas prairie?

'His Wagon Train Sweetheart' is a Christian historical novella introducing the brand new 'Walton Valley' series. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: May 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9781915126023

Book preview

His Wagon Train Sweetheart

Wagon Train Wife Novella

Catherine Kennedy

Inspired Press Limited

Copyright © 2020 by Catherine Kennedy

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of fictional characters to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or a book review.

Editor: Sara Miller/Arnetta Jackson

Cover Design: Hannah Linder Designs

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

About the author

Also by Catherine Kennedy

For my niece and nephews—Auntie Cheese might not have been able to see you as often as she wanted this year, but she has kept your names on her mind with every word written of this book.

We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

Romans 12:6-8 (KJV)

Chapter One

Independence, Missouri – May, 1867

You ever driven a team of oxen afore? George Walton’s father, Harry asked the young man in front of him.

There wasn’t a chance the stranger got his hands dirty when he could pay someone to do the hard work for him.

No, sir. I was hoping to hire someone with experience to do that for me.

George smirked. She knew it. He wouldn’t last two minutes in Santa Fe with his stiff, formal clothes that perfectly matched his stuffy personality.

George here will work for you.

She turned, waiting for the inevitable response. From the back, she looked just like everyone else who worked the wagon trains. Her clothes were serviceable and of a nondescript color from too many washes in various rivers and streams. Not that endless cleaning ever quite got rid of the trail dust. From the front, however, no one would mistake her for a young man.

But…but…he’s a girl.

George lifted one eyebrow contemptuously while her father guffawed beside her, slapping his hat against his leg. That’s right, I am a girl. So pleased you’ve noticed. Now we have that out of the way, let’s talk about what you have, what you don’t have, and what you will need in order to make the journey.

The rich man with the smooth accent that screamed of wealth and privilege frowned at her. What we have, what we don’t…

George blew out a breath, making no effort to hide her frustration. Your equipment and provisions. Everything you will need to make the trip.

You don’t provide a wagon?

She closed her eyes and reached deep for patience. She’d taken greenhorns along the Santa Fe trail before, but this man had to be the most naïve, ridiculous fool she’d met in a long time. At the sound of his deep laugh, she snapped open her eyes. Very funny.

I am not a complete novice. My mother and I got here from Boston without mishap. He stuck out a hand. I am Elijah Mitchell.

George wiped her hand on her thigh before completing the handshake. His hand was as soft as she had expected, but firm which was a shock—she’d expected something weak and halfhearted. She swallowed to hide her surprise. Pleased to meet ya.

He turned and beckoned an older woman to his side. This is my mother, Grace Mitchell.

George fought the urge to curtsy to the other woman. She was an absolute picture of elegance. Dark hair, threaded through with streaks of grey, was pinned into an elaborate style. Her clothes were neat and tidy with not a speck of dust or dirt to be seen. Queen Victoria could not have made George any more nervous. Women like this plain intimidated her.

Mama, Elijah was now saying. This is…um…Miss George.

It is a real pleasure to meet you, ma’am.

Mrs. Mitchell clasped George’s proffered hand in both of hers. I am delighted to meet you, dear.

George looked around the camp, hoping inspiration would strike and a refined topic of conversation would spring to her mind. However, as her life comprised riding reluctant oxen through creeks, hunting for wild game, and other such pursuits, she couldn’t think of a single topic she could confidently speak on.

Georgianna, she said eventually, then felt heat rising in her cheeks. That is…my name is Georgianna Walton.

Grace Mitchell nodded seriously, as though George had shared something incredibly important with her. Have you worked on wagon trains long?

Ever since I can remember. George stared at Grace wistfully and wished she knew how to twist her hair into an elegant style. The only people she knew who wore their hair the same way she did were little girls and Indians.

And you are to drive our wagon for us?

Yes, ma’am.

I expect we shall become very good friends along the way, Grace said, smiling kindly. My son is a doctor, so he will probably be too busy to keep company with me.

It was true enough that if there was anyone with any level of doctoring skills on a wagon train, they were usually occupied with accidents, outbreaks of disease, and the odd childbirth along the way.

George looked over at Eli, she supposed having such soft hands helped if he was a doctor. But then, what did she know? She was unschooled and knew only what her father had taught her, and what she had picked up from people she had met on previous wagon trains.

Yes, ma’am. George nodded and repeated her earlier phrase. She had no idea what the correct response was to such a lady suggesting they be friends.

We leave in the morning, is that correct? Eli asked.

I’ll find my pa so you can settle things with him, George said. "First light, the bugle will sound, and