Daphne: An Easter Bride (Brides 0f Noelle Book 4)

by Kit Morgan

  “Good afternoon,” a man said from behind the counter. He stared at her a moment and then asked, “Can I help you?”

  A woman stood next to him, but her back was turned. Daphne approached the counter. “Hello, I’m new in town and thought I’d come in and see what you had.”

  The woman turned around to face her. “New in town? Are you here to work with the mission?”

  “Avis, give the woman a chance,” the man said with an apologetic smile.

  Avis gave him a playful smack on the arm. “If I didn’t he’d have asked anyway,” she told Daphne.

  The shopkeeper did his best to look affronted, but Daphne could tell he was teasing the woman. “I’d have done no such thing.”

  Avis, whom Daphne assumed was his wife, shook her head and made a tsk, tsk, sound. “Trust me, by the time you’re ready to leave, he’ll know who you are, where you’re from and what you’re doing here.”

  “Of course he would, it’s what any good storekeeper does,” Daphne said with a smile.

  The man laughed. “Mr. and Mrs. Liam Fulton at your service, ma’am. Welcome to Noelle.”

  “Thank you,” Daphne said. “And to answer your question, I’m Daphne Dolittle, newly arrived from Denver.”

  “Please to meet you,” the couple said at once.

  Daphne laughed. “You have quite the store here. My best friend in the world works in a dry goods. Her family owns several. Do you do a good business here?”

  “With all the new folks moving into town, yes,” Mrs. Fulton said.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “What brings you to town?” asked Mr. Fulton. “You here about the mission?”

  “Yes and no. I arrived only recently. I’m afraid I’m not here regarding the mission, but I’ve heard about it. I’ve also heard about the silver mine,” Daphne explained. “I understand Mayor Hardt owns it?”

  “You understand correctly,” Mr. Fulton said.

  “I went to see the mayor at his office but it’s locked up,” Daphne told them. “Do you know when he’ll return?”

  Mrs. Fulton shrugged. “Sometimes he comes down from the mine and has lunch at the restaurant across the street. But most of the time he eats at home on account his cabin is near the mine.”

  “Is it far from here?”

  “You have business with the mayor, then?” Mr. Fulton asked.

  Daphne wasn’t sure how much to tell them. “Um, yes. I wanted to find out information about the mine.” She didn’t have to tell them she was going to invest in it.

  “He’ll be happy to answer any of your questions,” Mr. Fulton said. “In the meantime, is there anything we can help you with?”

  “No, you’ve been very helpful already. Do you mind if I look around?”

  “Of course not,” Mrs. Fulton said, “be our guest.”

  Daphne smiled and began to explore the many goods displayed around her. She found a green ribbon she liked, but didn’t want to spend money on such a frivolous thing. Not when she had train tickets to purchase soon, the first to San Francisco. She decided it was the most logical place to start her adventure.

  The bell over the door rang, announcing another customer. Daphne looked up in time to see a man head for the store counter. He looked like a miner. A very handsome miner at that.

  “What is it this time, Walker?” Mr. Fulton asked.

  “Jasper lost his comb. I’m here to buy him a new one,” the man said. He was not only handsome, he was clean. Even his clothes were, which made her wonder if she was wrong about his occupation. He couldn’t be much older than she was, with collar length brown hair and dark eyes. She’d caught just a glimpse of his face, but the sight made her heart skip a beat. How odd …

  “Mr. Brooks,” Mrs. Fulton said with a disgruntled shake of her head. “I believe in charity as much as the next person, but you can’t keep spending money on this man.”

  “I know,” he said. “I guess I feel sorry for him.”

  Brooks was it? Brooks was a nice name, Daphne thought. She grabbed a blue ribbon and took a few steps back to get a better view. His back was to her now, and she studied it with interest. Too much interest truth be told. She spun on her heel and went to a rack of ready-made clothes.

  “Of course it’s none of our business,” Mr. Fulton said. “But you spend more money on Jasper than you do yourself. I thought you were planning to leave.”

  “Still am, Liam. I’d like to anyway. Just as soon as I have enough money.”

  “You won’t have a penny to your name if you keep spending it all on Jasper,” Mrs. Fulton pointed out. “You don’t see him in here spending his money, do you?”

  “I know, I know,” Mr. Brooks said with a sigh.

  “Just trying to watch out for you, Walker,” Mr. Fulton said. “You’re a good man, and Mayor Hardt likes you. He was in here just the other day naming off gents that were hard-working in his eyes. You were one of them.”

  Daphne glanced at the counter to see if she could catch Mr. Brook’s reaction. Unfortunately, his back was still the only thing she saw. Clean and hard-working. Hmm, she’d have to write Dorcas about him. But first she’d better see what other kinds of folks were in Noelle. If Dorcas were to ever leave Denver, she might consider coming here. Daphne of course, would be long gone by then, but …

  “Miss Dolittle?”

  Startled, Daphne gasped, a hand to her chest.

  “So sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mr. Fulton said as he approached. “I just thought you might like to know I see Mayor Hardt across the street. Looks like he’s going into his office.”

  She glanced out the window. “Thank you, Mr. Fulton. Thank you very much!” She headed for the door, but not before taking one last peek at the handsome Mr. Brooks out the corner of her eye. As she did, he looked right at her. Her heart fluttered in response as she headed out the door.

  * * *

  “Excuse me?” Mayor Hardt said as he sat. He’d invited her to sit a moment before, and had just walked around the desk when she stated her business.

  “You heard me. I want to invest in Noelle’s silver mine,” she said again.

  He gave her a blank stare.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  He gave a small shake of his head. “No, not at all, it’s just an odd request.”

  Now it was her turn to stare blankly back. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is,” he said and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “You see, Miss Dolittle, the board and I …”

  “Board?” she interrupted. “Oh, yes, someone mentioned something about a board. Forgive me. Go on.”

  “Yes, well you see, we have some rather strict guidelines for anyone wishing to invest in the mine.”

  “If it’s a base amount you require, I’m sure I can meet it,” she said and then looked away. “I’ve been saving ever since my father passed.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

  She looked at him with a half smile. For some reason the mention of her father sent a pang of loneliness through her. “Thank you.”

  He watched her a moment. “Did you come alone, Miss Dolittle?”

  “Yes. I did. I heard about your mine and the investment opportunity, and thought it best if I came at once to take advantage of it. I … well, I wasn’t sure if the opportunity was still available.”

  He slowly nodded. “It is, but as I said, we have some guidelines.” He gave her a compassionate look. “And unfortunately, I can think of one already that would disqualify you.”

  She straightened in her chair. “It’s because I’m a woman, isn’t it?”

  Mayor Hardt smiled and shook his head. “No, it’s because you’re a single woman. But that’s easily fixed.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. What’s the base amount?”

  “Now hold on, I didn’t say you qualified. I said the opposite. You’re disqualified.”

  She looked into his blue eyes. He, too
, was a handsome man with a certain … steeliness to him. Decisive. Yes, that’s what he seemed. Which was bad news for her. “Disqualified?”

  “Yes. You see, Miss Dolittle, one of the major requirements for anyone wanting to invest in the mine is that they be married.”

  “Married!” she blurted.

  “And citizens in good standing,” he went on.

  “Good standing?” she squeaked.

  “That means respectable.” He looked her over. “You’re traveling alone?”

  “I … yes, well … yes.”

  He slowly nodded. The look on his face reminded Daphne of her old schoolmaster from childhood. Mr. Griffith, who could quell the best of them into submission. “I see,” he drawled.

  Think fast, Daphne thought. “I wish to travel, you know? I have money, but need another source of income. As my investment grows, I can reinvest into the mine …”

  He nodded. “A sound plan, but I’m afraid you still don’t qualify.”

  She did her best to remain calm. She had everything in place to begin her dream. Everything! And now this fellow was blowing it all to smithereens. “So, let me get this straight. In order to invest my good money into the silver mine, I have to be a respectable, good citizen of Noelle, and married,” she said, her jaw tight. “Is that correct?”

  “That is correct, yes,” he said.

  “Wonderful,” she said with a sigh.

  “You have at least one qualifying factor.”

  She looked at him, realized she was frowning, and tried for a smile. “What?”

  “You have money. How much were you thinking of investing?”

  Her eyes scanned his desk. “May I?” she said and pointed at a pencil and small piece of paper.

  He pushed them across the desk to her.

  She wrote down the amount and shoved it back. She was done voicing her business, afraid he’d counter it with another no. Maybe she didn’t have enough money. If so, a shake of the head would do just fine.

  He looked at the amount and his eyes flashed. “That’s a tidy sum, Miss Dolittle. How did you come by that amount if you don’t mind my asking?”

  No sense in not telling. “After my father passed, I sold his business, set most of it aside and scrimped off the rest until I found what I deemed a sound investment.”

  “We like to think we have that in the silver mine,” he said. “But …”

  She shut her eyes.

  “… you only meet the monetary requirement. Not the rest.”

  Her eyes opened with a look of dismay.

  “Not to say you’re not a respectable young lady,” he quickly added. “But you’re not married, and …”

  “And I can’t do anything without a man? Is that what you’re saying?” Daphne heard the irritation in her voice but at this point didn’t care.

  “No, not at all, but …”

  “But what?”

  He let go a weary sigh. “You still need to meet the basic qualifications.”

  “So what do you suggest I do? Run out into the street with a sign that says, I need a man?”

  His eyes widened. “Heavens no. But I do know of someone …”

  She came out of her chair. “Mayor Hardt! I’ll not marry a complete stranger just to invest in your silver mine!”

  He stood. “Miss Dolittle, I wasn’t suggesting that …”

  “Weren’t you? I know you’d love to have my money, but to suggest that I marry just anyone so you can get it …”

  “Now see here, Miss Dolittle, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “That you speak with Reverend Hammond.”

  She blinked. “Who?”

  “He’s largely responsible for bringing mail-order brides to town and helping to turn things around here. And, well, we can always use women.”

  “There you go again!” she said.

  He ran a hand over his face a few times. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

  “No, let’s not,” she said, more upset than she wanted to be. All her dreams were crumbling before her eyes, and she just wanted to get out of there. She’d talk with him again later. “Please, excuse me.”

  He gave her the faintest of nods. “As you wish.” He went to the door and opened it for her. She gripped her reticule and headed out.

  “Miss Dolittle,” he said and touched her elbow. “Do you have a place to stay?”

  Good heavens! He wasn’t insinuating that she stay with him, was he?

  “Miss Dolittle?”

  She met the man’s gaze, saw the concern in his eyes, and silently chastised herself for jumping to conclusions. “The Golden Nugget Saloon. It’s the only place in town, I’m told.”

  “For now, yes. Good. I’m glad to hear you have a warm bed. Seamus always keeps a pot of coffee on, and Reverend Hammond and his wife Felicity are there.”

  Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Mayor Hardt. I’m just … disappointed I don’t meet your requirements.”

  “Understandable. And you wouldn’t be the first,” he told her. “But speak with Reverend Hammond. He’s on our board of directors. He might yet be able to help you.”

  “Find me a husband, you mean?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  He looked her in the eyes. “On how badly you want to invest.”

  Chapter 4

  Whoo-wee! That’s a might pretty gal!” Jasper said and then coughed.

  Walker patted him on the back. “Yes, I saw her in Cobb’s Penn. She’s new in town.”

  “Oh,” Jasper said flatly. “That means she’s one of them goodie-goodies here to help with that mission.”

  “And what if she is?” Walker asked as he leaned against a post. “Place is bound to bring women into town.”

  “Not the fun kind!” Jasper practically wailed.

  Walker laughed. “Can’t you think of anything else?”

  “Sonny, at my age, what else is there to think about? Other than gold and silver.”

  “At your age?” Walker said, hands on hips. “You’re not going to die of old age tomorrow.”

  “No, but sometimes I feel like I am,” Jasper said and coughed again.

  “Why don’t you go see the town doctor?” Walker suggested. “I hear he’s pretty good.”

  “Don’t need no doctoring. Just need some lovin’!”

  “I don’t think a soiled dove is going to do the trick. You keep coughing like that, you’re not going to be visiting any of those anyway. C’mon, let’s go to Nacho’s place and see what the special is.”

  “Mighty kind of ya, Walker. Thanks.”

  He patted Jasper on the back again and was about to head down the street. But not before getting another look at the woman who’d stepped out of the mayor’s office. She was pretty even from a distance and he wondered what business she had with Charlie Hardt. From the look on her face, it wasn’t good. Was she a mail-order bride, or here to work at the mission? One thing was certain, she was not here to work in one of the brothels. Even from across the street he could tell she wasn’t a whore. For one, she looked too healthy. Speaking of healthy …

  Jasper opened his mouth to speak and coughed instead. “Dang blast … cough, cough, … it!”

  “I really think you need to see Doc Deane,” Walker said with concern.

  “No, I don’t!”

  He watched the old coot cough his way to the door of the diner. Something was definitely wrong. “Jasper, I mean it.”

  Jasper waved a hand in front of him. “No … cough … I’m … cough … fine.”

  “No, last night you were fine,” Walker corrected.

  “No … cough … last night I was drunk!”

  Walker chuckled. “True enough. But today you’re sick. Let’s see if Nacho has any hot soup.”

  Jasper pulled a sorry excuse for a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wiped his mouth with it. He quickly shoved it back inside and nodded. “After you, Walker John.”

&n
bsp; Walker eyed him suspiciously. Miners were prone to consumption, and he feared for his new friend. If he didn’t get any better, he’d drag him to Doc Deane himself.

  Inside, several men he knew were eating lunch. Walker made friends easily. He unfortunately lost them just as easy. The moment they found out who his father was. So far so good on that score, he thought. Only Jasper knew. The further west he went, the fewer people knew. Thank the Lord for that.

  “Howdy, gents!” a man called from a corner table.

  Walker and Jasper both waved at Reverend Hammond. He was a friendly sort, and visited the miners’ camp almost every day. Walker liked him, and spoke briefly with him when he arrived in town a couple of months ago. He’d heard Walker humming, and from that alone invited him to sing in the town’s first talent show held a little over a month ago. It was the most fun he’d had since his arrival.

  “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.”