The Heiress Comes to Town: Bonnets and Beaus, #1

By Janet Syas Nitsick

Slipping out of her father's New York mansion on her wedding day, Nina Robert stands outside her home in the snow to hail a cab. The cabbie pulls up just before her father would return in his rig with the minister.

She gets inside the cab, and the horses clomp to the train depot. With little money, she boards a train and eventually lands in Fort Calhoun, Nebraska.

There she hides out, gives a false name and meets Dr. Earl Olson, a young handsome doctor, who takes a liking to her. Love between them blossoms.

But her tycoon father, Clyde Robert the III, has not given up on finding her. To search for his daughter, Mr. Robert hires the famous Pinkerton National Detective Agency, known for their investigative work in foiling an assassination attempt on Abraham Lincoln's life during his first term. Nina's father also was determined to keep his daughter's arranged marriage to the wealthy son of a prominent and wealthy businessman iintact.

Nina has settled into a happy, simple life working at the Greens Boardinghouse. Although poor, she is content in her escape haven, not under the dictates of a father who managed every move of her life. But once her father discovers her whereabouts, she faces another dilemma – stay and fight him or sneak away once again, either way she could lose the man she loves.

The Heiress Comes to Town, a clean, Christian historical romance, takes readers on a journey to small town life of 1896 before cars traveled the roadways and electricity illuminated buildings. Travel back in time and visit Nina's yearn for freedom and her desire to marry the man she loves.            

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janet Syas Nitsick
• Release date: Feb 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386103622

Janet Syas Nitsick

Author Janet Syas Nitsick is the daughter of former Nebraska State Senator George Syas, who served 26 years in the Unicameral and died Feb. 7, 1997. He was well respected for his knowledge of Nebraska’s constitution. Janet earned her Bachelor of Arts degree in 1995 as a nontraditional student. She is a former journalist and language arts teacher. She is married and has four sons with two being autistic. Their oldest nonverbal autistic son passed away suddenly on January 15, 2022. His loss leaves a hole in Janet and Paul’s hearts as wide as the Mississippi River.

Book preview

The Heiress Comes to Town

by

Janet Syas Nitsick

The Heiress Comes to Town

Janet Syas Nitsick

Copyright© 2019 Janet Syas Nitsick

This book is a work of fiction. All people, places, or events are purely products of the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

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

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Biography

Other Books

Chapter One

New York City, New York

1896

Pa’s gone to get the parson! With chance on her side, Nina Robert rushed upstairs to her bedroom. Throwing off her grandmother’s ivory wedding gown and veil, she stuffed the heirlooms along with a selection of dresses, underwear, sleep attire, a small notebook and a pencil into her portmanteau then fastened the straps.

She slipped on her tan blouse and skirt with lace and satin trim. Then she put on her cloak and furry hat. Realizing she needed funds, she took her petty allowance and shoved that into her purse before she put on her gloves.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she played out the daring scene she had planned for more than a month. Taking the servants’ stairway, she climbed down the narrow steps, dragging her medium-sized wooden trunk, clad in leather behind her. It clunked as she angled it down the stairs. Did anyone hear her descent? She took a deep breath then waited a few seconds before she proceeded downward again.

Nina stood in front of the back stairs’ door, which led into the kitchen. Pans clanged and voices reverberated. Her hand shook as she grabbed the doorknob. She bit her lip, hoping against hope she would make it out of the house without anyone seeing her. She stood there a minute to gather strength. Oh Lord, help me get out of here.

The servant bells rang. Footsteps raced across the floorboards. Nina released a long breath, knowing the domestic help were being summoned into the parlor to ready things for the marriage ceremony. Nina waited until the scurried footsteps stopped.

Creaking the servants’ door open, she surveyed the room and hurried across the kitchen, scooting the chest behind her. In normal circumstances, she would have been caught. But with all the preparations for her wedding being done in the parlor, she was able to escape without detection.

Nina stepped out into the bitter cold and the snowflakes falling. Then she stood near the street and gazed to her left. In the far distance, she spied her father’s carriage. Ahead of her father came a cab. The soft flowing flakes increased around her. She shot a look in Pa’s direction. His rig turned the corner. Her hands shook.

The taxi carriage was a few feet away. Could she hail it in time? Nina waved. The cabbie stopped.

The driver climbed down and faced her. Where you going?

The train station and make it quick, she spoke through the wet drops. She glanced once more at her father’s vehicle, now just a block away. The cab driver took the chest, hoisted it up onto the vehicle’s roof before he opened the cabin’s door and assisted her inside. The driver slammed the door behind her.

One more glance at her pa’s rig. His vehicle approached and was within a few feet of their mansion.

Taking the reins, the cab pulled away. Did they make it without him seeing her? Clasping her trembling hands together, her stomach roiled. The continued snowflakes obstructed her view, no longer able to see her pa’s rig. Get moving! Get moving!

The cabbie cracked the whip. The horse sped up. Nina released a long breath, believing they had evaded her father.

Chapter Two

Fort Calhoun, Nebraska

1896

Nina took the conductor’s hand as she climbed down from the train. She pushed her fur-trimmed tan bonnet further up on her forehead, so she could view the desert-looking terrain around the tracks.

Why did she come to this place? Of course, she did not have much choice, knowing her wealthy father would put out the word she was missing. She had to get as far away from New York as possible. Taking a step toward the depot, she lifted her heavy skirt of lace and satin to climb up on the boardwalk.

Hurrying to leave, she had not had time to change into a more appropriate dress – one that would blend in with the common folks around here.

Nina had no idea there were so many individual railroads. Each time she changed trains, she had to buy a ticket. That took quite a bit of her money. Now she stood in a distant place with no funds inside her drawstring purse and no way to pay for a place to sleep. She clasped her gloved hands together.

The baggage handler kicked up some of the scattered snow. He stopped the vehicle in front of her and the other passengers standing around the platform.

One plump mother tugged on her twelve-year-old son’s rumpled wool coat’s sleeve before she pointed to the saddle-brown case and said, Get our luggage.

I’ll get it for ya. The baggage handler smiled before he lifted valises, bags and hatboxes to get to the mother’s hard-shelled suitcase.

Sidling up to the baggage handler, the boy grasped the bag and grinned. Thank you, sir.

You’re welcome. The man observed the boy for a minute before he shifted his attention to Nina. Tipping his railroad cap, he asked, Madam, do you need some help?

My portmanteau lies at the bottom of your cart.

What?" His brow wrinkled.

Nina shrugged. These prairie people aren’t familiar with French. She took a deep breath to keep from saying something that would offend him. She pointed to her marriage chest. That trunk, please.

Several passengers rushed past her to look for their items. Nina closed her eyes to block out the land of nothingness on the other side of the tracks. If only I had landed somewhere else.

Miss, shouted the baggage handler.

Yes? Her eyelids flew open as he approached, hauling her portmanteau.

Where do you want me to set this?

Oh, just place it right there. She gestured to her right beside a row of barrels, which upon first sight, many people could miss with it being topped in snow.

The baggage handler nodded then thumped the trunk to the ground beside her. With a quizzical look, he studied her from the tips of her boots to her hat. You got someone comin’ for you?

Of course, I do, she lied. It was a stalling tactic. However, she had no idea why she told the fib when the longer she lingered the truth would be revealed.

A cool wind swept across her face. She shivered and decided to pace the boardwalk to fight the nippy air. Her stomach rumbled. She had not eaten since yesterday. Now here she stood without even the ability to purchase a meal. Her last bite had been a bowl of pea soup with small pieces of ham.

She remembered savoring each piece swirling inside her mouth. Never had anything tasted so good. It even beat the caviar delicacy she relished back East.

Cold, she decided to head for the clapboard station to escape the elements. Next to the train station stood the livery stable. Plastered on its side were several rows of signs – from wanted posters to the advertising of area businesses. Nina glanced at the Green’s Boardinghouse sign. The depot door creaked open and passengers – from little children holding tight to their mothers’ hands to shabby, full-bearded men – all dashed toward the parked train.

Standing a few feet from the station’s entrance, Nina had to get out of their way, so they did not miss their departures. She took a long stride forward, her boot heel catching inside her skirt’s hem. She stumbled. Then within seconds, her hands unable to steady her, Nina’s head hit the cold, wooden-platform planks. Her cheeks burned. She moaned.

Boots clunked on the boardwalk. She turned to the gentleman, who wore a beaver-made cowboy hat and star on his chest, leaned over and asked, Are you okay?

I think so, Nina replied, prying her hurting mouth open to speak. How embarrassing for her to be in this condition. This was the last thing I needed with my father searching for me. She tried to rise to her feet, but her ankle and face ached too much. Instead, she released a groan.

Arms arched around her shoulders, the sheriff inched Nina forward before pulling her upright. He stood beside her.

Nina glanced at the middle-aged lawman. She wobbled a second before he steadied her steps.

I’m going to move you over there. He motioned to an outside bench, situated to the station’s left. Taking small steps, he led her to the wooden seat. She sat down. Now how do you feel?

I’m – I’m fine. Just a little woozy. Tears trickled down her face, stinging her sore cheeks. She tried to squelch the pain. But within seconds, the word Ouch! burst out of her lungs.

The sheriff searched the area. His gaze settled on a thirty-something man. He waved his hand in the air. Danny, come here. This lady needs help.

The man rushed to them and stood next to the sheriff. What do you want me to do?

Stay here with her while I get the doc.

The farmer nodded.

It’s not necessary, Nina responded, pushing the words out from her aching jaw.

Nope, you need to be looked after. The sheriff marched forward then took a sharp left toward town.

Nina gritted her teeth then closed her eyelids to tolerate the pounding head pain.

Before long, a young doctor with an engaging smile stood in front of her. Can you walk?

No, my ankle hurts.

Don’t put weight on that foot. We don’t want any more damage to it. We’ll assist you toward my buggy. He turned his attention to the sheriff.  You take that side and I’ll guide her on this end. He turned his gaze to Danny. Go to my buggy and wait so you can help scoot her into the vehicle. Danny headed for the doctor’s buggy.  

Nina settled onto the padded black two-seater. She glanced from the young farmer, to the sheriff, to the doctor who sat in the driver’s seat beside her. Pressing her hand on her brow, she took a deep breath as her mind whirled then she remembered her trunk. My portmanteau! I must have my portmanteau.

* * *

Bring that to her later, the doctor shouted as he snapped the reins. The horse lunged forward.

The two men stood on the platform before Sheriff Bill Hanson turned to Danny. Portmanteau, what’s that?

I’ve got no idea. She’s like a swan without water in that fancy hat and dress of hers.

You’re right. I detected an Eastern accent. I wonder what she’s doing here and who was picking her up?

Good questions. Danny laughed. You investigate that sheriff, but now we need to figure out what that ‘port’ a thing she wanted is.

The lawman scratched his scalp a minute. A thought just came to me. Perhaps we should stay here until the person she was waiting for arrives.

Sounds good, but I’ve got to take my ma to my house first, for she is anxious to see our new baby. Danny grinned.

The sheriff chuckled. You keep putting out those children of yours, and you’ll have enough for a baseball team.

I know. I thought of that myself, but extra hands really help with the farm.

That’s true. Bill looked up at the sky where the once white clouds now turned to a charcoal gray. A brisk wind whipped around his neck. Grasping the frock coat’s collar, he pulled it up to protect himself against that bitter air. You’d better get your Ma home. It looks like a snowstorm is brewing. Don’t worry about coming back.

You sure?

Yup, ‘port’ had to refer to something that woman brought with her. Thus, I’ll do some checking around. Perhaps, I’ll run into who was picking her up as well.

Okay. Danny hurried toward his mother. 

Bill glanced around him. It’s funny how a depot can be so busy. But without passengers boarding or departing the trains, the whole station became as quiet as saying your silent evening prayers.

Where were the railroad workers? He took a step off the platform and headed toward the tracks and the parked train. Could he find the conductor, engineer or the baggage handler? Someone had to know something about this woman? At least, he hoped so.

The sheriff zigzagged one way then traveled in the opposite direction. No one in sight, he hastened to return to the depot with each step marked by a snowflake drop. He brushed the wet from his shoulders. The snow settled on the ground.

He took a step onto the boardwalk and noticed a trunk sitting beside some barrels. Sweeping the gathered snowflakes off the leather case, he studied the intricate carved fish, crowns and flower designs. He tapped his forehead. This must be the ‘port’ of something the lady asked us to find.

The baggage handler pushed the cart. Wheels squeaked. Bill turned to the railroad handler. Glad I ran into you. Do you know of a lady’s portmanteau?

It belongs to that haughty woman. The baggage handler looked from side by side before he returned to reengage the sheriff. I don’t see her around.

She fell and hit her head and was woozy. So I got Doctor Olson and he took her to his office.

Sorry to hear that even with her holier than thou attitude.

Yes, well is this hers? She wanted us to bring her ‘port’ something to her.

Yup, that’s what she calls a fancy trunk. 

I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s got to be some rich woman to own something like this. The lawman paused. "By the way, do you know anything about