Chapter 1

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First Street Orphanage, Abilene Texas

April 3rd, 1858


"Miss Banfield, there's someone at the front door." Chelsea peeked her head into the office where the new orphanage director had been poring over the books until it felt as though her eyes were crossed. With a sigh, she decided that the accounting could wait and she stood up from the desk, walking to the office door and sending little Chelsea off to wash up for breakfast.

Adele had been at the First Street Orphanage for just over three months and she kept the front door locked and bolted at all times. Anyone without an appointment was greeted with suspicion and prejudice, as would whoever this new visitor was.

She reached for something above the door while pulling the key out of her skirt pocket. She cracked the door slowly. "Well, who is it?" she asked with her thick Irish accent. "And what do you want?"

The man had been looking out over the front of the property, admiring the lovely flowers along the walkway and the blooming trees out along the street. He heard the door being opened behind him and he turned around, startled to find the muzzle end of a gun inches from his face. "I beg your pardon!" he squeaked before clearing his throat. "Are you Ms. Desmond?"

"Ms. Desmond!?" she snapped. "Do I bloody well look like Ms. Desmond!?"

"I'm afraid I can't really see you," he said, thinking perhaps a bit of humor would alleviate the tension. He took a step back when she opened the door wider and came closer with the rifle. "And I'm afraid I don't know what Ms. Desmond looks like."

"What are your dealings with her?" she eyed him closely. Rich. Well dressed. Handsome. Not to be trusted.

"I don't really have any dealings with her," He said. "Well, I was on the receiving end of her mail order bride scheme, but I -,"

"You'll get off this property then, before I fill you so full of holes we could strain rice through your carcass!"

"No, wait!" he held his hands up when she raised the gun a little higher. "I wasn't aware that Ms. Desmond was the director of an orphanage at the time. I found that out later! When the girl she sent didn't marry me."

"Who did she send?" she lowered the gun. Slightly.

He swallowed hard. "Miss Quinn. Mallory Quinn."

"Did you bring her back with you?" she asked, looking around.

"No. I'm sorry. That would have been impossible." he shook his head.

She tilted hers, her eyes narrowing.

"She married my brother," he said, clearing his throat again, nervously.

"Mallory Quinn." she thought for a moment. "So that would make you Mr. Nathanial Bishop, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes. That's me." he said.

"If you're here looking for a replacement for the girl that didn't marry you, you had better get yourself off this property immediately!" she snapped. "We no longer do that here and-,"

"No! No, no! That's definitely not why I came." he said. She was beautiful. But she was so angry, he thought.

"Then why are you here?"

"I was concerned. For the girls who are still here. Mallory.....I mean Miss Quinn......well, it's Mrs. Warren now, but I digress! She told me about what happened. And how Ms. Desmond was doing what she was doing. And I wanted to put a stop to it."

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