Brides of Noelle

by Kit Morgan

  “Reverend,” Walker said with a tip of his hat.

  “Care to join me?” the reverend asked. “I seem to be taking up a large table today.”

  Walker exchanged a quick look with Jasper, who shrugged. “Sure, why not?” They went to his table and sat.

  “Jasper, isn’t it?” Reverend Hammond asked.

  “Yes … cough … sir.”

  The reverend frowned. “That doesn’t sound so good, son. Maybe you ought to …”

  “I ain’t gonna see no doctor!” Jasper barked.

  Walker hit him in the arm. “Mind your manners. He’s just trying to help.”

  “I don’t want no … cough … help.”

  “He’s right, Jasper. Part of my job is to watch out for folks, and you sound like you need some tending.”

  “The only tending I need I can find …” Jasper snapped his mouth shut. “Er … cough. Never mind.”

  Walker sent the reverend a worried glance. He acknowledged it with a single nod. It was obvious to both Jasper did indeed need tending.

  “Soup’s always good here,” the reverend said as Nacho brought his order. “You should try some.”

  Jasper stared at him, his mouth half-open, his breathing shallow. Walker wondered if he was having trouble getting air. “You all right?” he asked in a low voice.

  Jasper held up a hand. “Fine, Sonny. Fine.” He looked at Nacho. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  “Me too,” Walker said and patted Jasper on the back. “And bring us a couple of coffees.”

  “Right away,” Nacho said and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “So, how are you liking Noelle?” Reverend Hammond asked them with a smile.

  “Cold!” Jasper said and coughed. Several men glanced his way, then went back to their meals.

  “That it is, especially for you gents in the miners’ camp. A house is what you need. Real walls and a fireplace. You should think about setting some roots down.”

  Jasper closed one eye and squinted at him with the other. “What are ya sayin’, Preacher?”

  “Only that if you like Noelle, you should stay. Gonna be quite the town once the railroad gets here.”

  Jasper coughed again as Nacho brought their coffee. “Don’t need no four walls.” He grabbed his cup and took a sip.

  Walker thanked the proprietor and picked up his own cup. “Haven’t you ever wanted to settle down, Jasper?”

  “Me? What fer?”

  “Having a home is what men dream about,” the reverend said.

  “That’s somethin’ women fancy,” Jasper said and took another sip of his coffee.

  Walker let out the breath he’d been holding. The coffee was helping the old man’s cough. He’d have to figure out a way to get Jasper to see Doc Deane. But how? Clobber him over the head and carry him through the doctor’s door? Hmm, that could work …

  A man at a table next to theirs whistled. “Will you look at that,” he said appreciatively.

  Walker, his back to the windows, turned in his chair. The pretty woman from across the street was standing outside the diner.

  “Now who could that be, I wonder?” Reverend Hammond mused.

  “She’s new in town,” Walker volunteered. “Liam Fulton told me. She was in Cobb’s Penn earlier.”

  “Was she now?” the reverend said. “What’s she doing in Noelle?”

  “She ain’t here to offer no fun … cough … that’s for sure,” Jasper rasped. “Looks mighty prissy to me.”

  “Looks mighty fine to me!” a man said and poked himself in the chest with a finger.

  “Gentlemen,” the reverend said. “Calm yourselves.” The men quieted as Reverend Hammond rose from his chair, went to the door, and stepped outside.

  “Must be nice to be a preacher,” a miner said. “You can talk to anyone.”

  “Yeah, so long as ya got them locked in your church on Sundays!” another jeered.

  “Quiet,” Walker said. “Don’t be disrespecting the reverend.”

  “Who are you telling to be quiet, boy?” the miner asked as he twisted in his chair to face him.

  “Just be polite,” Walker said and hoped the man left it at that.

  Unfortunately … “I don’t need to be polite to nobody, boy. Including you.” He was out of his chair and reached Walker in two strides, a cup in his hand.

  “I wouldn’t if’n I were you,” Jasper drawled.

  “Good thing you’re not me,” the man shot back and dumped the contents over Walker’s head.

  Thank Heaven the man’s coffee had gone luke-warm. Walker made a fist, took a deep breath, and did his best to stay calm. Jasper on the other hand …

  “Dang blast it! Now ya gone and done it, ya idjit! Don’t ya know who this is?”

  “Oh, no …” Walker said. “Jasper, don’t …”

  “Why, he’ll slit your gullet quicker than … cough, cough … than … cough …”

  Walker wiped liquid from his face with a napkin then patted Jasper on the back. “We’re going to the doctor.”

  “Doctor!” his assailant squawked. “What about slitting my gullet?” He looked at his friends and laughed. “Ain’t ya gonna teach me a lesson?”

  “Nah, he’s one of them pretty boys. Too dainty to get his hands dirty,” another said. “Just look at him!”

  Walker abruptly stood. Not because of the yahoos poking fun at him, but because Japser wouldn’t stop coughing. “C’mon, we’re going to Doc Deane’s.” He pulled the old man out of his chair.

  “Let go! I ain’t goin’ nowhere!” He coughed again. The men in the diner laughed in response.

  “What’s going on out here?” Nacho called from the kitchen. He entered the dining area, a tray in his hands.

  Walker saw the two bowls of soup he carried and his mouth watered. But Jasper was beginning to gasp for air, which only set the table of hecklers into bigger hysterics. “Stop it!” he snapped. “Can’t you see he’s sick?”

  “Then get him out of here,” one growled.

  Jasper caught his breath. “Mind yer manners! Cough … this here’s … cough …”

  “Don’t!” Walker said through clenched teeth.

  “… Walter Brooks’ boy!”

  Oh. Lord. Walker thought, just as the dining room went silent.

  * * *

  “Good afternoon, miss,” a man greeted as he came out of the town diner.

  The only diner as far as Daphne knew. “Good afternoon.” She noted his clergyman’s clothes. “You must be Reverend Hammond.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said with a pleasant smile. He looked to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties. He was tall with thick, dark hair and dark eyes. If there was one thing she could say about Noelle, it was full of handsome men. Whether they were of good moral character was still debatable. “Mayor Hardt told me about you.”

  His brows went up. “He did, did he? You didn’t happen to be talking about marriage?”

  She stiffened. What was it with this town and marriage? “Yes, he brought it up.”

  “Well, then, I’m your man,” he said pleasantly. “Won’t you come inside? I was just having a late lunch …”

  “Reverend Hammond, I didn’t come here to get married,” she stated. “I came to invest in the silver mine.”

  “Oh, well now, we have some restrictions when it comes to the mine,” he said, his smile still in place.

  “So I’ve heard. I’d really love to invest, but this marriage business …”

  There was a ruckus coming from inside the diner. She heard a man shouting in Spanish, followed by a woman in the same language, topped off with a few whoops and yells. The door to the diner flew open and several men ran out. One still had a napkin tucked in his shirt front.

  Daphne watched as a man, who had to be the proprietor – he was wearing an apron after all – escorted the handsome man she’d seen at the mercantile and an old miner outside. The proprietor was holding a huge frying pan in his hands. It might as well ha
ve been a sword. “I’ll not tolerate trouble in my place!”

  “Nacho, what’s the matter?” the reverend asked, perplexed.

  “I’ll tell you what’s the matter! These men were about to start a fight. I’ll not have it.”

  “Nor I!” came a woman’s voice from the door.

  Daphne looked past the reverend and gathering men to a young woman with a thick braid that hung long and dark over one shoulder. Her eyes flashed at the men in warning, as did the man called Nacho. “Perhaps this … uh …” she stammered, “… isn’t the best time to join you, Reverend.”

  “Nonsense. This will be cleared up in no time.” He turned to the group of men. “You men disperse. Let’s not have any trouble.”

  “But Reverend,” one said. “I ain’t done with my lunch yet.”

  “And some need to pay!” Nacho pointed out, frying pan still in hand.

  “Oh, yes,” the reverend said. “Those that need to square up with Nacho, do it.”

  Two of the men glared at him, while the others eyed the handsome stranger and old man.

  The reverend ignored their dirty looks and studied his fingernails. “Gentlemen, don’t make me fetch Sheriff Draven.”

  Several men gasped and raced for the restaurant’s door, as if the dreaded sheriff (whoever he was) had just drawn a gun on them. Others turned away, some leaving, while the handsome stranger and his sidekick remained where they were.

  Reverend Hammond gave the restaurant owner a curt nod. He gave him one in return then approached the remaining two men. “What was that all about, amigo? Why start trouble in my place?”

  “I didn’t want trouble. I never do,” the handsome stranger said. What was his name again? Ah yes, Brooks, Daphne thought.

  “I’m sorry, Nacho,” the old man said. “It was my fault they got stirred up.”

  “How did you get them so riled?” Nacho asked.

  The old man’s eyes darted to his companion and back. “Well, I said something I shouldn’t have.”

  “You insulted my customers?” Nacho said, his voice tense.

  “He didn’t insult anyone,” Mr. Brooks said. “It won’t happen again.” He looked at the old man, his jaw tight. “Will it, Jasper?”

  Jasper gulped. “Er … no. I swear.” He then fell into a horrible coughing fit.

  “You should see the doctor,” Nacho chastised as he marched back into his restaurant.

  “He’s right. We’re going,” Mr. Brooks said.

  “But Walker, I ain’t had my lunch yet!” the old man protested and coughed some more.

  “I’ll see if Nacho can put your soup in something,” the reverend said. “It might help with that cough. Always cures what ails me.”

  “Much obliged, Reverend,” Mr. Brooks said.

  Daphne watched with interest. What did the old man call him a moment ago? “Walker,” she whispered. She’d never heard the name before. She liked it.

  “You two go on down to Doc’s place. I’ll bring your lunch,” Reverend Hammond said. He glanced at Daphne. “You all right?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said.

  “Good. Mind helping me a moment?”

  She glanced between the men. “Not at all.” Daphne looked once more at the man called Walker. He stared back, his face void of emotion. What could he be thinking?

  Without another word, he put a hand on the older man’s shoulder and turned him around. “Come on, Jasper. The doc’s place is this way.”

  She watched them leave, noticed the reverend wave at her, and then followed him inside.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m terribly sorry, but I didn’t get your name,” the reverend said as he pulled out a chair.

  “Daphne Dolittle,” she said and sat.

  He took a seat across the table from her. She noted there were three cups of coffee in front of her. “Where did your lunch companions go?”

  “To Doc Deane’s place. You met them outside.”

  Daphne’s heart skipped a beat. Why, she had no idea. “I see. I hope the older gentlemen gets better. He didn’t sound good.”

  “I agree, and I’m worried. These old timers think they’re tougher than they really are. I’m glad he shares a tent with Mr. Brooks.”

  “Tent?” she said with a hint of concern. So, they were miners. That meant there were constantly out in the cold. “That poor man.”

  “It happens. But Doc Deane will fix him up. Now if he’ll just do as the doc says, he’ll be right as rain.”

  “I would think the rain is what got him sick in the first place. Those tents must be freezing.”

  “Most have stoves. Still, when the wind kicks up and the snow …”

  Daphne’s chest tightened. “Why do they do it?”

  The reverend waved the proprietor to their table. “Do what? Oh, the miners? For money, what else?” He turned to Nacho. “About Mr. Brooks and Jasper’s order? Could we put it in something? I’ll take it to Doc Deane’s.”

  Nacho’s face twisted up as he thought. “I have just the thing. But you have to bring it back, or my wife will think I’m giving dishes away again.”

  Reverend Hammond smiled. “Thanks, Nacho. And don’t worry, I’ll return them.” He looked at Daphne. “I’m not the only one to take a meal out of here.”

  She glanced around the diner. Most of the patrons had left after the confrontation outside. What few remained ignored them and got down to the business of eating. Best she did the same, with her business that is. “Reverend Hammond, about the silver mine.”

  “Ah, yes. You wish to invest but don’t meet our requirements, is that correct?”

  Her brows went up. At least he got right to the point. Unfortunately. “What I’d like to know is, how to remedy it.”

  He took a sip of coffee, frowned at his cup and set it down. “Cold. Figures.” He glanced around for Nacho, but he was in the kitchen. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

  Daphne nodded with a sigh and forced a smile.

  “Much obliged.” He stood then left the table. “Josefina, could I get another cup?” he called and headed for the kitchen.

  One of the miners shook his head. “He’s the only one that can get away with that around here.”

  Daphne turned in her chair as Reverend Hammond emerged from the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. The pretty woman she’d seen earlier followed him with the pot and a fresh cup for her. “Thank you,” Daphne said when she set it in front of her.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Villanueva,” the preacher began, eliciting a raised brow from the woman. “You came to Noelle to get married. How do you like it here?”

  The woman’s expression changed as she glanced between Reverend Hammond and Daphne. She arched a single eyebrow and smiled. “I like it fine, Reverend.” She looked at Daphne. “You here to get married? You’re not thinking of leaving already, are you?”

  “No, I did not come to Noelle to marry,” Daphne said.

  “What? Then why …” the woman began then quickly looked her over. “You here for the mission then? We could use all the help we can get.”

  Daphne shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Mrs. Villanueva looked taken aback for only a moment. “Then why are you here?”

  Daphne didn’t want to voice her reasons to anyone but the preacher for now. “My reasons are my own,” she said. “But it’s nice to know that you like it here.” She looked around the restaurant. “You and your husband have a fine establishment.”

  The woman smiled. “Thank you. Would you like anything else?”

  “Tell you what,” the reverend said. “Why don’t I buy you lunch and we can discuss this venture of yours.”

  Mrs. Villa … oh heck, what did he call her earlier? Josefina? Daphne liked that better. Josefina arched a brow at her again before turning to Reverend Hammond. “Do you want another serving?”

  “Yes, I could do with more. Mine has gone cold. How about you, Miss Dolittle? The soup is wonderful.”

&
nbsp; “Fine. And some bread, please.”

  “Of course,” Josefina said and turned to the kitchen with a swish of her skirt.

  “Great couple, the Villanueva’s. Josefina came to Noelle as a mail-order bride.”

  Daphne gave him a smile. She was no bride. “That’s nice. Now, about my ‘venture’ as you called it.”

  “Yes. Well, it’s quite simple. Meet our requirements for investing and you’re in.”

  Daphne’s jaw tightened. “I understand that, but do I have to be married?”

  “You and everyone else that’s invested thus far. We don’t bend the rules for anyone, Miss Dolittle. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with them as they are.”

  She let go a frustrated sigh.

  Reverend Hammond cocked his head and studied her. “Are you really that opposed to marriage?”

  “Not at all. It’s just that, I’m not … I wasn’t planning to get married any time soon.”

  He looked her up and down. “You’re a fine looking woman, Miss Dolittle, if you don’t mind me saying so. You’re articulate, know what you want, and seem quite confident in your abilities, whatever they may be.”

  Daphne blinked a few times and then smiled. “How do you know that?”

  “You’re well dressed, well mannered, get right to the point, and are here without an escort so far as I can see.”

  She nodded slowly. “You’re quite right. On all counts.”

  “You’d make some lucky man a fine wife.”

  Daphne shut her eyes as her mouth formed a firm line. The man seemed determined to marry her off.

  Her eyes popped open as an idea began to form, and what an idea it was! “I shall have to take that into consideration, Reverend Hammond. I’m glad one of us is confident I’d make a man happy.”

  “Indeed. But tell me, Miss Dolittle. Since it appears you don’t plan to marry, what will you do? Help with the women’s mission? We’d love to have you join our little community.”

  She let her eyes roam the room. “Noelle has its charms, that is certain.” It also had a bevy of men. If her plan worked, she could talk one of them into marrying her, invest in the mine, and be gone within a few days. After all, San Francisco should be nice this time of year …