Gold Rush Bride

by Debra Lee Brown

  “Crockett need money. Pay for ship.”

  Kate twisted around so she could see Mei Li’s face. “What do you mean? He doesn’t have the money already?”

  “Money gone. Horse, too. Pay for debt.”

  “He owed someone a debt?” Well, she wasn’t the only one in hot water, it seemed.

  Under her breath, Mei Li muttered another of her seemingly endless strings of Chinese expletives. “He pay Landerfelt. But no Crockett’s debt. Cheng’s debt. My papa.”

  “What?” Will Crockett had used the money for his ship passage to pay off the debt of a Chinese laborer?

  Mei Li nodded. “Papa in big trouble. Run card game. Break law.”

  “A card game?”

  “Only white man allowed to—”

  “Don’t tell me…to run that kind of business, here in Tinderbox.”

  The fusion of rage and frustration on Mei Li’s young face was answer enough. “Game okay, as along as Landerfelt win. But he lose big to man from Hangtown. More coin than I ever see. Crockett pay back so Papa no lose job or house.”

  “You mean to tell me that Eldridge Landerfelt would have—? Why the bloody—”

  “Yes. Him very bloody. Very bad.”

  Kate scrambled to her feet and peered out the small, glassless window toward town. Will and Matt were unloading the supply wagon right there in the muddy street. Miners crowded around them, shouting out offers.

  It amazed her that men were willing to pay the hugely inflated prices even a fair man like her father had had to charge to cover his transportation costs. She hadn’t been inside Landerfelt’s Mercantile, though she suspected his prices were even more outrageous. She’d seen no customers in the place since she’d arrived yesterday.

  Until that very moment. How strange…

  Will Crockett plucked something from amidst the shards of broken storefront glass and ducked inside Landerfelt’s. Kate waited, and in less than a minute he came out again, pocketing whatever it was he’d evidently purchased.

  She eyed him, wondering exactly how much he would make in this last-minute sale of her father’s goods, and if he’d keep his word and leave her with enough money to tide her over until another load could be hauled from Sutter’s Fort. She also wondered whether the driver would keep his word about extending her credit.

  Mei Li crowded in beside her at the window for a look. “Him good man.”

  None of the men Kate had known in Dublin, save her own brothers, would have exhausted their life savings to insure the livelihood of an immigrant laborer and his family. “You’re right. Crockett is a good man.”

  “Oh. Him, too.”

  Him, too? She realized Mei Li’s wide eyes weren’t focused on Will Crockett at all. The girl was wholly captivated by his rough-looking, tawny-haired friend. “You mean Mr. Robinson, don’t you?”

  A tiny smile bloomed on Mei Li’s lips.

  Good Lord! Kate snapped the buckskin drape back into place over the window. “They’re nearly done with the load, and our hour’s almost up.” They might as well—how had Crockett put it? Get it over with.

  “You not ready. Dress all wrong. I fix.”

  “I’m fine, Mei Li. I told you, it’s not a real wedding, just a wee business arrangement so I might keep the store long enough to raise some money.”

  Mei Li shook her head and uttered a few more choice words in Chinese. “Might as well go, then, if you no care how you look.” She parted the canvas flaps of the shanty’s entrance, and they stepped into the sun.

  Even if, heaven forbid, it were to be a real wedding, there wasn’t a man of God to be found for a hundred miles in any direction. A thousand for all Kate knew. Landerfelt had been right about that. She hadn’t seen a proper priest since she’d left Ireland six months ago.

  And it was that very fact which, in the end, justified her decision to undertake such a blasphemous act. Vickery’s legal proceeding was one thing. But were they married in the church, well, now that was something else altogether.

  She would never have considered the idea if there had been the remotest possibly of that happening. Her place in heaven was safe, she hoped, as long as she went to confession as soon as she got home, and if she started on those rosaries tonight.

  As they picked their way up the street, avoiding mud holes and horse droppings, Kate felt a bittersweet sort of emptiness inside. Her whole life had been devoted to caring for her father and brothers. She’d promised herself that when the boys were grown she’d make a life for herself. Her own life. She’d find a good man to marry. One who respected and loved her.

  Kate followed the wagon ruts up the street, past a stream of miners heading out of town to their claims, bearing the goods her soon-to-be husband had sold them, and considered that this was not exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d made that promise to herself so very long ago.

  By the time she and Mei Li reached the middle of town, it was apparent word had spread of what was about to take place. Given the lack of women, Kate suspected there were few weddings in Tinderbox. Perhaps hers was the first.

  The blacksmith stepped out of the livery, and Landerfelt’s cronies out of his store. Every tradesman in town, along with more miners than she could count, gathered in the small meadow below the graveyard on the far side of town.

  Will Crockett paced the wet, uneven ground, his fur hat crushed in his hands. “Took long enough,” he said as she and Mei Li approached.

  “I’m ready if you are.” She glanced at the faces in the crowd, which closed a circle around them, but she didn’t see Mr. Vickery. She hadn’t seen him all day, in fact. He’d been up early that morning, long before her.

  Matt Robinson appeared and, to Kate’s astonishment, thrust a hastily gathered bouquet into her hands. Mei Li grinned. Crockett scowled. They weren’t flowers, exactly. It was full-on autumn. November. And the chill in the air told her snow wasn’t very far off.

  “All right, let’s do it.” Crockett squinted in the direction of Vickery’s cottage. “Where’s that lawyer?”

  Kate arched a brow, silently reiterating his question.

  Matt shot them both a sheepish glance and shrugged. “He’s gone. Landerfelt hornswoggled him into doin’ some business for him in Hangtown.”

  The look on Crockett’s face echoed Kate’s sentiments exactly: anger mixed with a goodly dose of relief.

  “But I found a ringer in the bunch who’ll do a far sight better than Vickery.” Matt stepped aside to let a young, portly miner into the circle.

  Kate didn’t recognize him, nor did any of the local tradesmen, given their narrowed gazes. The man was obviously new to not only the town, but the goldfields. His clothes were new and far too clean, and his skin too white for him to have been here long. He shot a few furtive glances at the crowd, then nodded to her and Crockett.

  “Who the hell is this?” Crockett said.

  “You’ll see.” Matt grinned. “Go on, Father. Start ’er up.”

  Father?

  The portly miner fixed his gaze on her, pulled a small, well-worn missal out of his breast pocket and made the sign of the cross.

  “Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. For the second time that day the ground slipped out from under her. Will Crockett’s big hand shot out to steady her on her feet.

  In perfect Latin, tinged with an Irish accent, the priest began, “In nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti. Amen.”

  Kate dropped her bouquet.

  The ceremony lasted a few minutes. Or an hour. She wasn’t sure which. She was vaguely aware of repeating the vows the priest read aloud from the missal.

  “No ring?” Matt looked to Crockett, and the frontiersman shot him as black a look as Kate had ever seen.

  “No,” Crockett said.”

  That’s all right,” the priest said. “It isn’t strictly necessary.”

  “Fine.” Will let go of her. It dawned on her that he’d been holding her arm this whole time. “That’s it then? We’re married?”

&n
bsp; “Aye.” The priest risked a smile. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Kate’s eyes widened at the very thought. Surely Crockett wouldn’t dream of—

  “Go on, Will, kiss her!” someone shouted from the crowd.

  The town blacksmith shot her a lusty grin. “I’ll kiss ’er for ya, Will, if ya ain’t man enough.”

  Kate wasn’t a woman who blushed easily. After all, she’d raised four brothers and had the benefit of a worldly father’s adventurous tales. All the same, she touched a sweaty hand to her cheek and found it blazing.

  “Come on, Mrs. Crockett.” Crockett grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd toward the livery, where her father’s horse stood saddled and waiting. Evidently he’d already sold the mule.

  Matt and Mei Li dogged their steps, followed by the crowd that had turned out to witness their vows.

  “You’re set on this dang fool Alaska thing, then,” Matt called after them.

  Crockett shot a stony look over his shoulder. “Damn right I am. What do you think this whole charade is about.”

  “I thought you was doin’ it to help Miss Dennington.” Matt tossed her a half smile. “Mrs. Crockett, I mean.”

  “Mrs. Crockett got what she wanted. My name. That’s what they all want, isn’t it? And I got what I wanted, too.” He jerked her up the street, his grip tightening around her arm. “Besides, I don’t think our Mrs. Crockett needs help. She’s doing all right on her own, if you ask me.”

  Kate tripped in a wagon rut and, before she could react, Will caught her up in his arms. She could tell from his nasty expression that the move was purely instinctive. Had he had time to think about it, she’d probably be lying in the mud.

  “Y-you’ve made enough money, then,” she said. His face was inches from hers, and she was conscious of her heartbeat accelerating. “F-for your passage.”

  Crockett’s scowl deepened. “What the hell do you know about it?”

  “Nothing. I just—”

  He pushed her away and dug a small leather pouch out of his pocket. “Enough for a working passage, if I’m lucky. If I sell the horse in Sacramento City, there’s maybe enough. I won’t know till I get there.” He thrust the pouch at her. “Here, it’s your cut. There’s still about a third of the wagonload left. Mostly things of no use out here. They’re in your father’s store.”

  “My store,” she said, tired of his nasty attitude.

  “Right. I forgot.” He turned to his waiting mount.

  “Go on, Will,” the blacksmith called out again. “Kiss ’er g’bye. What’s the matter? Y’ain’t afraid of her, are ya?” A dozen voices chimed in, echoing the blacksmith’s challenge.

  Matt and Mei Li stood there, grinning. Kate didn’t find it amusing at all. In fact, she wasn’t about to stand here and be made a fool of. She turned her back on Crockett and started for her father’s store. Her store, she reminded herself.

  A second later, she was jerked clean off her feet. She sucked in a breath but had no time to exhale. Will Crockett’s mouth covered hers, and it wasn’t the kind of gentle kiss a man gives his new bride.

  She struggled. No use. Crockett’s hand snaked up her back and cupped her nape like a vise. Her last conscious thought before she gave herself up to his will and superior strength was that Mei Li’s handiwork had all been for nothing. Her hair tumbled free in Crockett’s hand.

  And then he dropped her. “Unh!” She landed hard, on her behind, smack in the center of a muddy wagon rut.

  Breathless, Kate watched as he mounted her father’s horse and reined the black gelding west into the sun. Not until he was out of sight did she remember it would be the last time she would ever see him.

  Her husband, Will Crockett.

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Crockett, indeed. The name didn’t suit her at all.

  Kate swept the last of the dried mud clods out the door of Dennington’s Grocery and Dry Goods and into the street. There’d been little business that morning. The fanfare accompanying the arrival of the last shipment from Sutter’s Fort seemed to be over.

  Most of the local miners had gone back to their claims yesterday following her spur-of-the-moment wedding to Will Crockett. The town was quiet. Almost too quiet.

  Crockett had been right about what remained of the shipment. She glanced at the pile of neglected goods he and Matt had stacked against the far wall of the store. She supposed she should sort them out, display the items in an attractive manner. But who in Tinderbox would want to buy a washboard or a set of hammered tin cups or ladies’ undergarments?

  This was not exactly a domestic little village in County Kildare. Besides, there weren’t any women to speak of to buy such things, save her and Mei Li and a few Indians. And none of them appeared to wear the kind of undergarments that had been delivered.

  The wagon driver had made a bargain with Kate’s father to purchase whatever was available, regardless of demand. Everything was scarce in the goldfields. Her father must have figured that, at some point, everything would sell.

  The shipments had been delivered on a fairly regular schedule, as well. Once every couple of weeks, weather permitting, a new load arrived from Sutter’s Fort. It was better than forty miles. A hard day’s ride. But it might take the supply wagon a week, Dan the driver had told her before he’d left town.

  She wondered if she’d ever see that driver again. The promises Crockett had extracted from him yesterday could hardly be enforced now that the trapper was gone. And there were a dozen other small towns just like Tinderbox sprouting up in the goldfields.

  Landerfelt transported his own goods, using his own men—Jed and Leon Packett—those two ruffians who’d tried to abscond with her wagon load, and who’d harassed Mei Li. Landerfelt kept his own schedule, and would also ferry goods and mail for local miners back and forth from Sacramento City—for a hefty fee. Few could afford to take him up on those services.

  Kate leaned the broom up in the corner and wiped a thin sheen of perspiration from her brow. The day was cool, but she was warm from work. Her gaze drifted over the clean shelves and newly scrubbed floor. Aye, it would have to do.

  All she could do now was wait. Crockett had left her a bit of coin, and there were enough jarred goods, salted meat and flour left over for her to get by on until the next shipment arrived. If anyone knew how to stretch the ingredients for one meal into a dozen, it was Kate.

  Mei Li had been a big help to her. Kate had discovered that the girl and her father, Cheng, had ministered to her own father when he’d first taken ill. At least he’d had friends here in this strange and wild place. People who’d cared for him.

  She’d been lucky that Vickery and Mei Li had extended their friendship to her. Vickery had offered to house her until she was able to sail for home, but Kate had declined. His wife was expected back soon, and Kate couldn’t imagine Mrs. Vickery would take kindly to a stranger in her house.

  Besides, the cabin her father had fashioned into a store had a tiny room in the back with a bed, a place to cook and a wood-fired stove. It was a far sight better than where she and her brothers lived near Halfpenny Bridge in Dublin. No evidence of rats, at least. Only field mice and a few harmless insects that wandered in from the forested hillside butting up to the back of the cabin.

  Kate walked to the window and gazed across the street at Landerfelt’s Mercantile and Mining Supply. The man himself hadn’t shown his face since their altercation in the street yesterday morn. Perhaps with Will Crockett gone, this rivalry was over. Surely there was enough business for two stores, Landerfelt’s and hers, in a growing town like Tinderbox. She hoped there was, for as long as it took to raise enough for her passage home and to clear her debt.

  A rap at the storefront window jarred her from her thoughts. She peered out the now sparkling glass and saw Mr. Vickery’s worried eyes squinting back at her.

  Lord, she must look a fright! She snatched the old rag tied about her waist in apron fashion and tossed it behind the counter, then sm
oothed her hair as best she could. “Mr. Vickery,” she said as he stepped into the store. “How nice to see you.”

  He removed his bowler but didn’t return her smile. “Miss Dennington—um, Mrs. Crockett, I mean.” His frown told her he didn’t think much of what she’d done to protect her assets.

  She bit her lip. “Won’t you please call me Kate?”

  “Very well, Kate. I’ve just come by to check on you. I wish you’d stay at the cottage. It’s not safe for you here at the store. Mrs. Vickery will be back from San Francisco soon, and I’m certain she’ll share my concern for your safety.”

  “I appreciate it, truly I do. But there’s no need to worry. I’m perfectly fine here.”

  In truth, now that she’d been here a couple of days, she didn’t feel any more uncomfortable alone in the store or on the street than she had in certain sections of the grindingly poor neighborhood she’d been raised in.

  “I’ve braved the streets of Dublin alone from an early age, Mr. Vickery. I’m quite capable of watching out for myself.”

  He studied her face for a moment, searching, perhaps, for signs of feigned confidence. She drew herself up and squarely met his gaze. Well, perhaps some of it was feigned.

  “Yes, I believe you are. And I’d have expected nothing less from Liam Dennington’s daughter.” He smiled, finally, then visibly relaxed.

  Kate was pleased. She needed allies, and suspected Mr. Vickery was a good one to have.

  “You’re nothing at all like the first Mrs. Crockett.”

  “The first Mrs. Crockett?” Kate’s eyes widened of their own accord. “You mean, Will was married before?” She’d never considered that possibility. He didn’t seem at all the kind of man who’d have a wife. Well, not a real wife.

  “What happened to her?”

  “Happened?”

  “I mean…she is dead, isn’t she?” The look on her face must have betrayed the split second of fear that shot through her mind.