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  Rescuing Mistletoe Millie

  Christmas Rescue Series

  Book 13

  By

  Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Rescuing Mistletoe Millie Christmas Rescue Series Book 13

  Copyright © July 2020

  Published by Patricia PacJac Carroll

  ALL rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, (except for inclusion in reviews), disseminated or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audio. Including photocopying, recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system, or the Internet/World Wide Web without written permission from the author.

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

  Cover Designer: Virginia McKevitt

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  Rescuing Mistletoe Millie

  Christmas Rescue Series

  Book 13

  Chapter 1

  October 1868

  Stoneybrook, Texas

  “Millie, I’m going into town. Take Blue Dan and cut some of the mistletoe out of the tree at Carson’s Creek.” Tom Carson, Millie’s father, stopped to catch his breath. He couldn’t let her know the real reason he was going.

  He watched his daughter and wished he could give her more than the small business of gathering mistletoe to sell and an old blue roan mule. Tom had wanted so much for her, but things hadn’t worked out.

  If only his wife had lived, his small family could have done better. As it was, the doctor bills for his wife’s illness had taken all the money he’d saved. Then the drought had taken the ranch except for the acre the old homestead was on. Now, well, he was going to do the one thing a father could do for his only child and daughter.

  He was going into town to pick a husband for Millie.

  ***

  Dean Scott had just finished sweeping out the store when he saw Tom Carson ride into town. At one time, he’d had a promising ranch, then Tom had to sell everything off. He and his daughter Millie held onto the old homestead shack and made a paltry living collecting mistletoe from the trees near the creek and selling it.

  Dean shook his head and then looked at his store. Scott’s General Store made him a comfortable living. Yet, his store depended on the well-being of those in the little town of Stoneybrook and the surrounding ranches and farms.

  Right now, more were struggling than prospering. Dean watched Tom ride toward him, but something didn’t seem right. Tom wasn’t a drinking man, so Dean didn’t think he was drunk. Putting the broom down, he went to the hitching post to greet him.

  “Tom, how are you doing? It’s kind of a cold day to be out riding.” Dean took the horse’s bridle and held him while Tom dismounted, but once he did, the man hung onto the saddle horn for a few minutes.

  Tom waved him over. “If you could help me to the bench in front of your store, I’d like to sit for a minute and catch my breath.”

  “Sure, Tom.” Dean took his arm and half-carried him to the bench.

  After sitting and resting for a few minutes, Tom looked at him. “Dean, you live comfortably, don’t you? I mean, you have enough to eat and a good roof over your head?”

  Dean nodded. “Yes, I can’t complain.” He studied the man. Tom was only forty, but today, he looked like he’d aged twenty years. His face was pale, almost gray, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Odd, because it was cold for October in Texas.

  Tom nodded and grabbed Dean’s hand. “I have a favor to ask. I’m dying. I fear for Millie. She’s not had the proper upbringing since her mother died. At least, she doesn’t know the womanly things, and well, she’ll need help finding a husband.”

  “Easy, Tom. Want me to get Doc?”

  Shaking his head, Tom gripped his coat to keep him from rising. “No. Please, I need a husband for my girl. A good man. One that will treat her right and love her.” Tom stared at him. “You’re a good man. Not married.”

  Tom stopped and took in a slow breath. “My Millie, she needs to be looked after. Help her. Get a woman to help her with her hair and clothes, and then find a good man to marry her. Soon.”

  Dean stared at the man. A friend really, but it wasn’t like he saw Tom and Millie that often. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Millie. It could have been years ago. He either hadn’t seen her or hadn’t paid attention to her.

  Tom coughed and grabbed Dean close to him. “Please, promise me you’ll do as I ask. You’d make her a good husband.”

  Fearful for the man’s health. Dean nodded. “All right. I’ll do just as you say. I’ll see to Millie.” As soon as he said the words, he wondered what he’d done. He planned to get married, but not to Millie. No one in particular, just a good woman. He hadn’t spent much time on it yet.

  Tom smiled, let out a long breath, and collapsed.

  “Tom!” There was no breath in or out of the man. Dean stood. “Someone, get me the doc!”

  Sheriff Roger Sims ran to him. “What’s the matter?”

  “I think Tom just died.” Shaken, Dean stared at the sheriff. “I don’t know.” He prayed the man hadn’t because he’d just promised to marry Millie, and that was one thing he didn’t want to do. The girl was a mess, and he doubted she knew what a dress was.

  Gently, the sheriff laid Tom on the bench. He felt his neck and then put his ear to the man’s chest. Standing up, the sheriff nodded. “He’s dead, all right. What happened?”

  Dean stared at him. “He rode up to me. I could tell something wasn’t right, so I helped him from his horse and then to the bench.”

  “He must have known he was ill. Looks like his heart might have given out. He has a daughter, doesn’t he?”

  Dean swallowed and nearly choked on his spit as Tom’s last request flooded back to him. “Yes, he does. That’s why he came. He wants me to find her a husband. A woman to help her with womanly things.” He looked up at the sheriff. “I promised him.”

  “Promised him what? That you’d marry her? I haven’t seen Millie , for some time. Seems like she’d be young to marry. And she did look mostly tomboy. Yep, she’d need some cleaning up. I’d say you took on a tough job.” Sheriff Sims gave him a smirk of a smile.

  Dean nodded. “I gave my word, and it was to a dying man. Can’t turn that down.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “No, I’d say not. Good luck. If you need me to ride out to the old place to tell her the news, I’ll go with you. Seems like somebody should.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that. The weather looks like it could turn, if we’re going, we better go now.”

  Removing his hat, the sheriff hung it from the pistol on his thigh. “That womanly help, maybe the widow Clark would come with us. We probably ought to take a wagon to bring Millie back to town. Doubt if she has much, but you never know.”

  Dean nodded. “I’ll close up and meet you. Tom wanted me to sell his horse and saddle to the livery. He said it ought to bring enough money for Millie to stay at the boar
ding house for a month or two.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Get me a blanket, I’ll pay for it. I’ll stop by Dr. Hart’s and have him get the undertaker.”

  Dean ran in and brought out a blanket and looked sorrowfully at Tom. “I feel bad for him.”

  The sheriff gently put the blanket over Tom and covered his face. “He was a believer, so his sorrows and worries are over. He does have a peaceful look. We best be going. That north wind has picked up.”

  Dean took a couple blankets and led Tom’s horse to the livery. He settled with Mitch for the horse and rented the wagon and a couple sturdy horses. He was going to pay, but after Mitch heard of the trouble, he told him not to bother.

  That was one thing Dean liked about Stonybrook. It was a small town, but the people were genuinely kind and lived out the Bible that Pastor Knox preached out of. Most of them anyway.

  He had just climbed into the wagon when Sheriff Sims and the widow Clark walked down the boardwalk toward them.

  Dean pointed. “I brought some blankets just in case it gets colder.”

  “Good.” Sheriff Sims nodded and tied his horse to the back of the wagon.

  The Widow Clark smiled at him. “How old is the girl?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe sixteen. I can’t remember the last time I saw her.” Dean helped the widow up and gave her one of the blankets.

  The sheriff climbed in the back of the wagon. “Good thinking to get the covered wagon. That way, if it rains, the women can stay dry. I hope the girl won’t be hard to handle.”

  Dean grinned. “She’s just one little girl. Between the three of us, I’m sure we can handle her.”

  The Widow Clark set the blanket on her lap. “By the way, my name is Joan. There are times I feel like I’ll forget my name myself when so many call me, Widow Clark.”

  Dean flicked the reins. “Let’s go, horses. Sorry, Joan. I guess we get set in our ways and busy with our own lives.”

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “Thank you. It’s been five years since Frank died. I think I’m ready to get on with my life.”

  Dean nodded. “The years do go by fast. Will you have room in the boarding house for the girl?”

  “Yes, I have one small room I can let her have. Does she have any other kin?”

  Dean shrugged. “I doubt it. Tom didn’t say, and I think he would have.” Dean was still unnerved to have been with a dying man, and then to have promised Tom that he’d take on the girl and find her a husband. Dean paused. “She must be older than fifteen if Tom wanted to marry her off. Tom asked if a woman might help her in the female things Millie needs to know. I guess the sheriff told you?”

  Joan nodded. “Yes, he did. I can help her with clothes and how to behave. She must be a wild child as I can’t remember the last time that I saw her in town.”

  “Me either. Thanks for helping out.” Dean was more than thankful. He had no idea how to help a girl much less how to find her a husband. As he drove the wagon toward the Carson homestead, Dean thought on how he could find a man for Millie.

  First, she probably needed to be cleaned up. That was Joan’s problem. Then he’d have to get a list of proper men. The small town of Stonybrook wouldn’t make for a very long list. Unmarried men that would be close to her age maybe twenty-one or two, there weren’t but a couple, and Dean wasn’t sure they’d be proper enough for what Tom wanted for Millie.

  Tom should have gone to someone older and more mature. Dean was only twenty-four and never married, and he certainly wasn’t sure what to do with kids. Still, Dean had given his word, and he’d make it good.

  Chapter 2

  Millie Carson stood on the back of the blue mule and sawed off a branch of mistletoe. She’d gathered enough for the day and was proud of her work. Pa would be able to sell it around and make enough for a week’s living.

  That and with shooting squirrels and rabbits for stew, they did all right. Though she was beginning to worry about her pa. He wasn’t as spry as he’d been just a few weeks ago. Something was wrong, and he wouldn’t tell her.

  “Well, Blue Dan, I can’t help what I don’t know, can I?” She tucked the mistletoe she’d just cut into her bag and sat down on the trusty old mule. “Let’s go home, boy.”

  Blue trotted up the creek to the path to the old cabin. The wind had picked up, forcing her to tighten the rope around her worn jacket. It was one of Pa’s as she’d outgrown hers a couple of years ago.

  Pa always told her that next year would be better, and they’d fix up the house and get her new clothes. But things never did get better. If it weren’t for collecting the mistletoe down in the creek, and selling it for medicinal purposes as well as the stolen-kissing power when it had berries, they wouldn’t have anything.

  Drought kept the garden and meager crops they planted from growing. The few head of cattle they’d had were gone. Pa looked for them but couldn’t find them. The livestock was down to Pa’s horse and the mule.

  Blue Dan took her to the cabin and stopped in front of the barn. She patted his neck. “You’re a good friend, Blue. Let me get you fed.” She took him to the shed and poured a small amount of oats in the bin for him. “After you finish that, go and see what grass you can find.”

  Millie took off her floppy hat and walked to the cabin. She had a small bit of oil left for the lantern, but it wouldn’t last long. She hadn’t seen Pa’s horse so he must still be in town. She wasn’t sure why he went. They’d already borrowed money for the last bit of flour and lamp oil.

  The cabin was cold and as icy as her hopes. Things weren’t going to change. Not for the better. She knew that deep in her heart. Soon, she was going to have to try to find a job in town. She could read and do numbers. But looking at herself, she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hire her. Not for a decent job anyway.

  Millie went out and gathered some logs for the fire. At least they had the wood stove and plenty of wood to heat up the house. She went in, and the wind blew the door shut. It was going to be a cold night.

  Looking outside, she saw the sun was nearly gone and hoped Pa would either walk through the door in a minute or stay in town. He didn’t need to be out in the cold. Once, he’d been strong, and nothing could beat him down.

  But after a few bad years, mother getting sick and dying, Pa got smaller and weaker until now, she took care of him. The fire crackled to life and spread warmth in the little shack. Millie rubbed her arms.

  She was drying up along with her hope. Mother had put great stock in the Bible and read from it daily. Still, she’d died. Millie looked around her bleak house and at her dismal future. She had to do something.

  The wind rattled the cabin’s one window and blew the loose shutter that hung by a leather strap, causing it to bang against the wall. Millie started for the cupboard to see what she could make for dinner when she heard a horse outside.

  “Pa.” A spark of joy hit her as she thought about her father. She did love him and knew that he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. Things just hadn’t worked out for them. She rushed to the door and threw it open only to see a covered wagon.

  The sheriff jumped from the wagon and helped a woman down. “Millie, it’s me, Sheriff Sims, Dean Scott, and Joan Clark.”

  Dean set the brake and hopped down, tying the horses to the hitching post.

  She ran for the wagon, thinking her Pa took sick, and they’d brought him home. But the sheriff caught her arm and stopped her.

  “Millie, your Pa died today. In town.” Sheriff Sims looked at her and then to Dean, the man who ran the store.

  Millie had met him years ago but hadn’t seen him in some time. “Dead? How—”

  Dean went to her and took her hand. “Doc said it was his heart. Your father told me to sell his horse and bring you to town to stay at Joan’s boarding house.” The man looked uncomfortable.

  Millie’s legs felt weak, and the next thing she knew, Dean was carrying her into the cabin. She felt terrible that they’d see the rubble she and her fa
ther lived in. But she didn’t have the strength to fight back, not with the heart-crushing news that her Pa was dead.

  After Dean laid her on the bed, Mrs. Clark rushed in and sat beside her. “I’m so sorry, dear. It’s such a shock. Your father was a good man.” She glanced at Dean.

  “He had me sell his horse and saddle so you would have a room at Mrs. Clark’s boarding house. We came to get you and take you into town.”

  Millie’s senses returned. “I don’t want to go. I can stay here and collect mistletoe like I’ve been doing.”

  Dean pulled up a chair and sat beside her bed. “Your father wanted it this way for you. It was his dying request, and I aim to see it honored.”

  Sitting up, Millie rubbed her head to clear her mind. Why hadn’t Pa told her what he wanted?

  Dean looked at Mrs. Clark. “Joan, maybe you can help her.”

  The kind woman pulled Millie into a hug. “I know it’s an awful shock to get such news, but I feel it’s important to follow your father’s last wishes. He didn’t want you staying out here by yourself, and I am more than delighted to take you in. I have the cutest room just for you already set up.”

  Millie shook her head. “I don’t have any money.”

  “Your pa sold his horse to pay for it. He was a fine horse.”

  Millie smiled. “Yes, he was. The last of Pa’s treasures.”

  Dean took her hand. “I’d say you were the last of his treasures. It was you he had on his mind when he was passing over into paradise.”

  Tears threatened to fall, but she refused them. They meant weakness, and she had to be strong. It was what Pa would have wanted.

  The sheriff came over to them. “We brought the wagon, so you can bring back whatever you’d like to take, but we need to get moving. There’s a storm coming. We’ve seen snow in October before here in Stonybrook.”