by Kit Morgan
Daphne felt a chill go up her spine and hugged herself. “Oh, Papa, why did you leave me with such words?”
She got off the bed, went to the window, parted the curtains and looked outside. It was growing late and people would be heading home. The miners to their camp, shopkeepers and businessmen their homes and wives. She noticed there were no children in the streets, at least none that she could see, and wondered how long before the new brides in town began to have some.
Daphne turned away from the window. She didn’t dare start thinking about children. When she started having them, her traveling days would be over. Unless of course she was rich – make that rich beyond her dreams. It would be costly enough to travel the world by herself, especially if she had to give up fifteen percent of her profits to Mr. Brooks.
But wait, if she married him, she could forget about having children …
“Mr. Brooks,” she mused on a sigh. Best add that to her list when she spoke with her “partner.”
But would it be Mr. Brooks? He might turn her down flat. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she’d best come up with a way to sweeten their deal. Otherwise she’d be dealing with Lord only knew how many men before she could leave Noelle. That is, if she dealt with any at all. Mr. Brooks could spread word about her negotiations with him and where would that leave her? Right back where she started. “Heaven forbid, I can’t have that.”
Weary of pondering the possibilities, she grabbed her coat and reticule and headed for the door. Time to go see what Nacho and his wife served for dinner.
* * *
“What’s the matter with you?” Jasper asked some hours later.
“Nothing,” Walker said. “Did you get some rest?”
“You were here while I was a snorin’ weren’t ya?”
Walker chuckled. “Part of the time.”
“There’s your answer,” Jasper said and pulled on his boots. “I’m hungry.”
“Good. I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Walker observed. “You’re not coughing either.”
Jasper put a hand to his chest. “By golly, you’re right. I ain’t coughed since I done woke up. What time is it?”
“After six I reckon. I’m hungry too. Let’s go see what we can find for supper.”
Jasper slowly stood, wobbled a bit, then sat down. “Give me a minute.”
“It’s the laudanum. I’ll give you five.”
Jasper smiled. “Thanks, Sonny boy.”
“Don’t mention it,” Walker said with a flick of his hand.
“No, I mean it. Thanks for everything, Walker John. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be. Probably dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Walker said as he stuck another piece of wood into their small stove. “I’m just doing what anyone else would.”
“No, yer not. Anyone else would leave me to die in that ditch. But not you. Yer a good man, Walker John. I … I just wanted ya to know that.”
Walker looked up, saw Jasper’s eyes were misted, and stood. “Jasper, you feeling all right?”
“No, I’m not. Not anymore.”
He sat next to him on the cot. “What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to see Doc Deane again?”
“No, it ain’t that.” Jasper met Walker’s concerned gaze. “Yer a much better man than I’ll ever be, Walker John. I wish I’d been more like you in my younger days. I’d probably would’ve got myself a wife, settled someplace.”
“Stop, Jasper. Don’t do this to yourself. Besides, you’re never too old to marry.” Walker’s eyes widened. Maybe Miss Dolittle should marry Jasper …
“No, it’s too late for me, Walker John. But not you. Take that pretty gal we met at the doc’s place …”
Walker shook his head. “Not that one, she’s … well, never mind what she is. She’s …”
“Not what ya expected? Heck, boy, I coulda told ya that. That one’s got a mind of her own.”
Walker’s brows shot up. “How can you tell?”
“From the look in her eye, how else? Kinda like when yer in the market for a horse and look for the traits that tell ya it’s a mean one. If it is, ya pass on it.”
Walker laughed. “And would you pass on Miss Dolittle?”
“Heck no, she’s got spirit.”
“That she does,” he agreed.
“And how would you know?” Jasper asked, squinting at him with one eye. “Just what were ya doin’ while I was sleepin’?”
A chuckle escaped. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Now c’mon. Let’s go find some supper.”
Chapter 8
The next day found Daphne pacing her room. She’d fretted half the night over Walker’s decision. Would he go for it, or laugh in her face? He’d done a little of that yesterday. Difference was, yesterday she didn’t feel so nervous. She didn’t want to have to repeat this process with someone else. Worse, she didn’t want to do it a third time, followed by a fourth, fifth, sixth…
“Stop it, Daphne. You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she chastised. But if there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was sitting still. If this didn’t work she’d have to go back to Denver. Where else could she carve out a life? There was nothing in Noelle except the silver mine and without a husband, what good was it?
Nacho and Josefina told her more stories of the twelve brides come to town at Christmas. Each couple invested in the mine and looked forward to healthy returns on those investments. Even a newcomer in town, a blind man with a dog got himself hitched and invested so he could support his sister. She thought it a noble cause, but his actions made her feel guilty about her own. She supposed she was being selfish. Correction – there was no supposing.
Daphne went to the window and stared at the street below. How many hats would she have to make and sell to make a living? Make that, how many hats would she have to sell in Denver, versus how many hats in Noelle? If she stayed and couldn’t invest, she might starve.
She shook her head in disgust and left the window. “Now you’re thinking nonsense,” she told herself. She shouldn’t entertain thoughts of giving up just yet. At least she’d met with Mr. Brooks. That was something.
“Good heavens, what if he says yes?” she asked aloud. Naturally she’d worked out the details, but what did his taking her offer say about him? Did he have an ulterior motive? After all, if he married her, he’d be unavailable for anyone else. Nacho and Josefina talked of more brides coming to Noelle eventually. What if he decided he wanted one? She’d have ruined his chances at love.
Daphne paced to the other side of the room and back. “If he takes this deal then he should have put some thought into it.” She massaged her temples and paced some more. “Daphne, you dolt! You only gave him twenty-four hours to decide. How much deep thinking can a man get done in that amount of time?”
Daphne sat at the little desk, picked up paper and pencil, and decided to write a letter to Dorcas. “Good grief, Dorcas! What is she going to think about this?” Would she ever speak to her again? With Daphne’s luck Dorcas would think she’d gone round the bend too.
She set the pencil down, leaned back in the chair, and groaned. Maybe she should forget the whole thing. He was going to say no anyway. She could then pack her things, buy a train ticket back to Denver and make Dorcas happy. Maybe the two of them should sign up to be mail-order brides. But the chances of winding up in the same town were remote so Dorcas would nix the idea.
Daphne sat and tried to think of what she should lament about next when someone knocked on the door. Daphne answered it and smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Jones.”
“Miss Dolittle,” Ophelia said and waved to the woman standing next to her. “May I introduce Felicity Hammond, the reverend’s wife?”
“How do you do,” Daphne said, remembering her manners.
“Very well, thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to meet you yesterday,” said Mrs. Hammond. “It was a busy day.”
“That’s all right. I
’m sure you and the reverend are in high demand.”
“You have no idea,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Which is why I’m here. Ophelia and I are working on a few things for the new women’s mission that’s to be built. We wanted to know if you’d like to help out.”
Daphne froze. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in their project. Especially since said project was going to take months to complete. If things went according to plan, she’d could leave Noelle in a matter of days. “Well… I… I don’t think I’m in any position at the moment.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Ophelia said as she peeked into Daphne’s room. “Would you like to join us for some tea in Felicity’s room? It’s much more comfortable than yours or mine.”
Hmm, a visit with the ladies might be nice, not to mention get her mind off of Mr. Brooks. “I’d love to.” She ducked back inside, grabbed her key and locked the door. She then followed them to Mrs. Hammond’s room. “Oh my goodness, this is so lovely,” she exclaimed.
“Those were my sentiments when I first saw it,” Ophelia said.
“And as I told Ophelia,” Mrs. Hammond said, “I’ve had some time to get it looking this way. Trust me, it looked no different than your room when I first arrived.”
“You were one of the twelve brides that came at Christmas?” Daphne asked.
“Yes, in fact, I was also the first to marry.”
Felicity motioned Daphne to sit in one of two chairs at a table in the center of the room while Ophelia went to a corner, retrieved another and set it down. “I’ll run downstairs and get some hot water,” she offered. “Maybe Norah made cookies.”
“Thank you, Ophelia,” Mrs. Hammond said. “I’ll fill Miss Dolittle in on the mission while you’re gone.”
Daphne cringed. She was beginning to wonder if Felicity Hammond was the type that didn’t take no for an answer.
“So, what brings you to Noelle?” the reverend’s wife asked.
“Well… I… heard about the mine.” Daphne you idiot! She thought. Don’t tell her that!
“So my husband tells me. But you do realize that in order to invest in the mine, one has to be married.”
“Yes, Reverend Hammond made that quite clear.”
“The good news is, there are plenty of men around here who would accommodate you. However…”
Daphne closed her eyes. Here it comes…
“… there are also a lot of men here who would not make a good husband. You need to know the difference.”
Daphne’s eyes sprang open. “What?”
“Indeed, Miss Dolittle. You’re a very pretty woman, and you have the funds to invest in the mine. Many of the men in town don’t. That makes you a very attractive commodity. If word gets out that you want to invest and have the money, half the men in this town will be lined up outside your door wanting to propose.”
Daphne heard a tiny gasp and realized it came from her. “Oh, dear,” she said, a hand to her chest.
“All I’m saying is, that if you really wish to marry, let Chase and I help you.”
Daphne stared at her moment. “Chase?”
“My husband, the Reverend Hammond?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t believe I knew his first name,” she said.
“It’s quite all right,” Felicity said. “All I ask is you tell us if you wish to marry. We know a lot of the men in this town and can tell you who are the best prospects.”
“You can?”
“Of course. Chase has been here almost since Noelle began. Naturally we don’t know all of the newcomers, but he spends enough time in the miners’ camp that he’s beginning to.”
Daphne wasn’t sure if she should consider this good or bad news. What it did mean, was, they wouldn’t be opposed to her marrying Mr. Brooks. Just the part about her leaving town …
“We’re in luck,” Ophelia said as she reentered the room, a tray in her hands. “Norah baked! I asked if she’d like to join us, but she said she was busy.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. But I’m sure you’ll meet Norah later,” Felicity said to Daphne. “She’s a very nice woman and only recently arrived in Noelle. Seamus, her husband, runs this place. They were separated for four years. He came west to make his fortune and had no choice but to leave her behind.”
Daphne glanced around the room. It was very feminine and homey, unlike the sparsely furnished room she had. Her room was cold and bleak in comparison. “And did he? Make his fortune?”
“He plans to. I believe my husband told you about it.”
The word “husband” stood out, making Daphne’s gut twist with guilt. If she married Mr. Brooks she’d put herself in the same fix she was putting him. What if she met someone while abroad and fell in love? She’d never be able to marry …
“Daphne?” Ophelia said. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, just woolgathering. Sorry.”
“It’s quite all right, I do it all the time.” Felicity said. “Now, back to the matter at hand. You’ll let us know?”
“Yes… of course,” Daphne hedged. Though she’d much rather marry Mr. Brooks and be on her way. From the looks of things, that wasn’t going to happen now. Why she ever thought she could get away with such a plan she had no idea. If she were to marry and suddenly leave town, that would put a black mark on her character. The Hammonds would never let her invest. Not a dime. If she wanted to make this work, really work, she was going to have to marry and pretend to like it. That meant sticking around a while. Then she’d leave. Heavens, didn’t Walker Brooks say something along those lines yesterday? Or had she? She’d fretted over it so much the night before, everything was muddled.
“Tea?” Felicity asked and picked up the pot.
Daphne smiled and nodded. If Dorcas were here she’d lecture her, not to mention draw Mrs. Hammond and Mrs. Jones into her argument.
“So, tell me,” Felicity said, breaking into her thoughts. “What reasons do you have for wanting to invest in the silver mine?”
Daphne gave her a wide-eyed stare and stopped breathing. What on earth was she going to say?
* * *
Walker finished his work, put away his tools along with the rest of the mining crew, and headed back to camp. It had been a hard day and he was tired. He wasn’t sure what tuckered him out more. The physical labor, or thinking about Miss Dolittle’s proposition. They were meeting later, and she expected an answer. Of course, he didn’t have to give one just yet. He could say he needed more time. Unfortunately the more time he took to think, the more he justified doing it. If anything, he’d agree to her ludicrous plan to protect her. Lord knew she wasn’t doing a very good job. Was the woman trying to ruin her life? If she wound up hitched to some unscrupulous miner, she’d do just that. Then where would she be? And what could he do about it at that point? She will have made her bed and have to lie in it.
“Was the boss man angry?” Jasper asked when Walker entered their tent.
“About what? That you’re sick?” Walker asked. “No, of course not. Besides, I told Mayor Hardt that you saw Doc Deane and he tended you. He knows what the doc said.”
“Much obliged, Walker John,” Jasper said solemnly.
“You feeling any better?”
“I done slept most of the day. That laudanum does the trick. Ain’t been coughin’ as much either.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. You stay close to that bed the next few days and you’ll be better in no time.”
“I hope so. This bed’s makin’ me lose pay. Better to be sick and work, than sleepin’ and losin’ money.”
“Better to sleep a few days and live to work,” Walker countered. “The last thing you want is for that cough to turn into something worse. The fact you already feel better tells me you were lucky.”
Jasper stared at the ground. “Yeah, I know. Sometimes I wonder if I ain’t better off in the ground.”
“Jasper!” Walker huffed. “What kind of talk is that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.
I guess lying on yer back all day gives a man time to think.”
“Well that’s the wrong kind of thinking. Don’t do it again,” Walker admonished. He went to his own cot and sat. He’d need to change his clothes. Come to think of it, he needed a bath. But the only place to get one was the barbershop and it was closed. That meant he’d have to go to the brothel and pay double for one. Maybe even triple. That’s where Jasper took his. Great Scott, the old man would never let him live it down. “Er, Jasper…”
“Yeah, Sonny boy?”
“Barbershop’s closed and I could really use a bath.”
Jasper’s eyes lit up. “I know just the place!”
“Just the bath. How much does the madam charge for one?”
“Heck, I don’t know. I always get the tub with all the trimmings.”
“I don’t want the trimmings, whomever they may be. I just want a bath,” Walker said flatly.
Jasper scratched at his chest. “Hmm, I could do with a hot soak myself.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea in your condition.” He also didn’t think Jasper in the brothel, sick as he was, was a good idea either. They’d take his money anyway they could. More if he was too sick to notice. Wait a minute. Jasper didn’t have any money. “I only have money for hot water in a tub. Nothing else.”
Jasper’s face fell. “Ah, shucks. You’re no fun, Walker John.”
“No, I’m sensible. Now, how much it would be?” He hoped he had enough money.
“Honest, Walker John. I don’t know what Miss Felice would charge for just a bath. But it sure as heck won’t be the same as the barbershop. In fact, I expect she’ll want triple. What do ya want a bath for anyway?”
“Because believe it or not, Jasper, I like being clean. Besides, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do when one meets with a lady.”
Jasper cackled. “I like the bath special. Comes with two of the ladies if they got the time.” He winked and cackled some more.
