by Kit Morgan
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Daphne said. “I, um … have someone in mind.”
The couple exchanged a quick look. “Who?” they asked in unison.
“Well,” Daphne said and twisted the napkin in her lap. “I met him just outside this establishment, as a matter of fact.”
“And?” Clint said as Ophelia leaned forward.
“And then at Doc Deane’s and again at The Golden Nugget.”
Ophelia straightened. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Daphne shrugged. “Because I wasn’t sure of … of what I wanted.”
“So you found a man before you knew you wanted one?” Clint asked as his face screwed up in confusion.
Daphne gave him a weak smile. “Something like that.”
“Who is he?”
She wasn’t sure how much to tell him. She’d been so surprised when Walker took her offer yesterday, she couldn’t think straight and had to excused herself. A headache, she told him. No sooner had she returned to her room, Ophelia invited her to dine with them after church the next day. Now here they were. She wondered not for the first time, why Walker hadn’t attended the service. Had Jasper taken a turn for the worst?
She and Walker were to meet tomorrow afternoon to work out the details. She’d find out then. Unfortunately, he didn’t appear keen to deal with said details yesterday any more than she did. He’d wished her well and left the saloon. Daphne began to wonder if he’d back out. It was a distinct possibility. Then again, he did bring up that business about having his name for protection. Just how much weight did the prefix of Mrs. carry?
“Daphne?” Ophelia said. “Is there a reason you don’t want us to know?”
She dropped her napkin. “So sorry. I was woolgathering.” She looked down, trying to locate the linen. “Oh dear.”
Clint scooted his chair back, bent down and snatched it up. “Nacho?”
Nacho hurried out of the kitchen. “Mr. Jones, what do you need?”
“Could you bring Miss Dolittle a fresh napkin, please?”
“Right away, amigo!”
Daphne heard Nacho speak to Josefina in the kitchen and felt that odd little pinch of envy again. Within moments she had a fresh napkin and Clint didn’t waste time getting back to the subject at hand. “This man, who is he?”
Daphne sighed. She might as well tell them. “Walker Brooks.”
“Mr. Brooks!” Ophelia said with a smile. “I thought it might be.”
Daphne’s brows went up. But why was she surprised. Ophelia was with her when Walker met with her the first time.
Clint glanced at his wife and back. “I’ve heard that name,” Clint said. “Is he a miner?”
“Yes, he is,” she said.
Clint shook his head. “Miners tend not to stick around, Miss Dolittle.”
Her heart leapt. It would be preferable if he didn’t. Then no one would question things if they both left town. “Yes, I understand that.”
Clint’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And you wouldn’t mind moving from place to place chasing after gold and silver?”
She swallowed. “No, not at all. I like to travel.”
“Mining camps, damp, cold tents, mud up to your knees,” he added. “That’s the type of life you want?”
She stared at him wide-eyed. She’d not thought of those things. What for? She wouldn’t be living in any of it. But she hadn’t counted on what others would think. “He’s talked of settling somewhere.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. He did say he’d eventually leave Noelle. That meant going someplace else. And maybe settling …
“I don’t know, Miss Dolittle,” Clint went on. “A miner that moves around a lot isn’t a good choice for a husband in my book.”
“And one that doesn’t?” she asked.
“That’s another matter entirely,” he said.
“What about you?” Daphne said, grasping for something in her defense. “You were an agent for Wells Fargo and Company. You moved around quite a bit, or so your wife tells me.”
“Yes, I did. But I don’t anymore. I’m to manage a branch for my employers here. That means settling in Noelle.”
Drat, that didn’t work. “And if Mr. Brooks settles in Noelle, would that make him a better choice?”
Ophelia’s eyes lit up. “You’re falling in love with him.”
“What?!” Daphne chirped. “No, not at all …”
Ophelia smiled. “But why are you so set on him if you don’t feel anything for the man? After all, there are lots of other men in Noelle to choose from, but you’ve obviously got your cap set for Mr. Brooks.”
Daphne’s mouth fell open as her mind raced. “Y-y-yes, you’re right,” she stuttered. Her stomach suddenly felt like she’d swallowed a brick. She didn’t want to lie to these people and had tossed a few white ones out already. But this …
“Oh, how romantic,” Ophelia said, eyes bright. “Does he want to court you?”
Daphne’s mouth opened and closed, but she was speechless. What was Walker going to say to this? Would he be willing to put on an act and pretend to court her?
Ophelia’s face fell. “Does he not feel the same way? Oh, that would be terrible. I don’t think there’s anything worse than unrequited love.”
Daphne managed to nod in agreement.
“You must be sure of his feelings for you, Miss Dolittle,” Clint said. “Otherwise he’s a very poor choice.”
She kept nodding and forced a smile to boot.
“When will you see him again?” Ophelia asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Daphne said, her voice cracking.
“Good.” Clint said. “Ophelia and I will chaperone.”
“No!” Daphne blurted as her eyes popped wide.
The Joneses stared at her in shock.
“I mean … it’s a brief meeting. There’s no need. Coffee at The Golden Nugget, that’s all. I know you’re probably both busy …”
“No, we’re not,” Ophelia said happily. “We’d love to chaperone.”
The brick in Daphne’s stomach turned into two. “You would?” she said weakly. “How lovely.”
“He’s meeting you after his shift at the mine?” Clint asked.
“Yes,” she said with a horrible sinking feeling. How was she going to fix this?
“Excellent,” Clint said as he picked up his fork. “We’ll have coffee together and formally meet Mr. Walker Brooks.”
* * *
Daphne trudged upstairs to her room with Ophelia while Clint stopped off at Chase and Felicity’s room. He was probably going to tell them about Walker and their meeting tomorrow. With her luck, the Hammonds would attend as well. Oh gad. What a fiasco that would be! And Walker hadn’t a clue. Worse, what if he told them of her plans? The offer? Never mind the fact he took it, the lout!
She went to her bed, fell onto it, and let out a pitiful groan. She was over reacting. For all she knew, Clint went to speak with the reverend about the bedraggled and bruised looking men downstairs. Heavens, they looked like they’d just spent the last hour or two beating each other up.
Daphne bolted upright. “That’s it, I’ll be sick!” But no, that wouldn’t work, she was fit as a fiddle and then some. Besides, it was one more lie added to the growing pile, a pile that if too big, would crush her. She needed to stop this, leave, and go back to Denver. It was the only way to come clean. Unfortunately, it was also the best way to destroy her dreams.
Daphne fell onto her pillow and let the tears fall.
The next day was clear and bright, with a hint of spring in the air. Daphne could feel it and so could everyone else. Norah had taken to making breakfast for the boarders and Daphne made herself a small plate as the Irishwoman happily fussed about the kitchen. Another woman was there named Libby who helped the Irishwoman now and then. “Do you like living in Noelle?” Daphne asked and wondered if Norah liked living in the saloon.
“It’s not Noelle I came for, but Seamus. So aye, I like it fine.”
Daphne gave her a tiny smile. “Everyone I speak with feels the same way. Not because of Seamus, though.”
Norah laughed. “I should hope not. Mind your eggs don’t get cold, Miss Dolittle.”
Daphne began to eat. In time, The Golden Nugget would have a full restaurant, a separate bar, and plenty of rooms for guests. She wished it had that now. Her meeting with Walker later would be within earshot of Lord only knew how many folks, including Ophelia and her husband. What a disaster! She still couldn’t come up with a viable excuse to cancel it. Besides, how would she get word to Walker? She had no idea how to find him. For Heaven’s sake, she didn’t even know where the miners’ camp was.
She finished her breakfast, excused herself from the kitchen, and returned to her room. Maybe she could occupy herself reading. Problem was, she didn’t have a book. She’d have to go to Cobb’s Penn and see if she could find one. She noticed a few on her last visit. In fact, maybe she could find what she needed for …
“Oh, Daph,” she said aloud. “You don’t need anything for the journey to San Francisco because you’re not going.” She felt her heart plummet. The sooner she occupied her time the better.
She put on her coat, snatched up her reticule and left the room. Outside the air was cold, but with the promise to be warmer in the afternoon. Weather was one of the reasons she’d always wanted to travel, to see and experience places so unlike her own. She wanted to feel tropical sun on her face, see animals she’d only heard about, listen to strange birds, eat exotic foods …
“I am not going to cry,” she said as disappointment sunk its way into her heart. “I won’t!”
Daphne took off at a good clip, ignoring the townspeople as they milled about in the sunshine. Little patches of snow were here and there, but for the most part, the street was clear. That could change tomorrow. For all she knew, Noelle could get half a foot overnight. This was Colorado after all, and March was still as cold and unpredictable as the rest of winter. Occasionally though, came a day like today, one that brought people out of their homes.
When she reached Cobb’s Penn, she noticed more customers than on her last visit. Most were women, with a few men in the mix. All of which studied her with interest. Daphne squared her shoulders. She might as well get used to being looked at. That is, if she was able to go through with her plan, which looked bleak at this point.
“Can I help you?” Mrs. Fulton asked as she approached.
“Hello again,” Daphne greeted. “I was looking for a book.”
“Right over there,” she said and pointed to a stack in the corner “Are you enjoying Noelle?”
Daphne forced a smile. “Yes, very much.”
“Were you able to find Mayor Hardt?”
Daphne blinked a few times then remembered. “Oh, yes, thank you. I did.” She had to remember this was a very small town. Everyone probably was privy to everyone else’s business, including hers. Had Mrs. Fulton told people she was seeking Mayor Hardt about information on the silver mine? At this point she couldn’t remember exactly what she’d told the shopkeepers. Only that they directed her to Mayor Hardt’s office across the street.
“We have some new novels in,” Mrs. Fulton said.
“Thank you. I’ll take a look.” Happy to drop the subject of Mayor Hardt, she headed for the stack of books in the corner.
“Hello there, Missy.”
Daphne jumped and spun around. The old man with the bad cough grinned at her. “Hello. Mister …”
“Jasper. Just Jasper. How ya be?”
“The better question is how are you? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was, but I got bored.” He quickly glanced around. “You ain’t gonna tell Walker John I flew the coop, are ya?”
She smiled when she heard Mr. Brook’s name. “No, I won’t tell him. He’s a real mother hen, I take it?”
“The worst!”
“You should be glad you call him friend,” she said.
“I am, Missy. He’s a fine man. One of the best I’ve ever known.”
Her stomach did a little flip at his words. “He cares about you, that’s obvious.”
“He’s like a son, not to mention a nag …”
She laughed. “But a kind one?”
“Yep. He is.” The old man picked up what looked like a book of poetry. “Well, nice talkin’ with ya, Missy. I’d best be getting’ back. My bones are startin’ to ache.”
She nodded her farewell. “Take care, Mr. Jasper.”
“Just Jasper,” he said over his shoulder.
Daphne watched him take his purchase to the counter. Once again she felt torn going through with her plan and letting folks think she and Walker were courting. But on the other hand, her guilt could eat her alive. Best she come clean, get a train ticket and leave Noelle behind. But the knowledge that she could make her dream a reality gnawed at her something awful. So did something else, but she wasn’t sure what it was.
With a sigh she perused the stack of books as Jasper’s words sunk in. Walker Brooks was a good man, a kind man, and caring. Who was she to take advantage of him? And here he offered to marry her if only to protect her with his name. What man does that? The more she thought about it the worse she felt. Not only that, but that “something else” began to flicker higher in her heart. She still wasn’t sure what it was. All she knew was that Jasper’s words had put it there.
Chapter 11
Daphne did her best to occupy her time until her meeting with Walker, but nothing held her attention. The novel she purchased from Cobb’s Penn, Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne, helped. But also reignited her hunger for travel and made her heart long to leave. Unfortunately, that wasn’t about to happen. Not unless it was straight back to Denver.
“Patience, Daph, patience,” she consoled. If she and Walker managed to court long enough to satisfy the silver mine’s board members, they could marry and go from there. She’d still get to follow through with her plans, and Walker would make some money. It would take longer is all. She could live with that.
But could she live with the lie? She didn’t love Walker Brooks, nor was he in love with her. It would be a marriage of convenience. Convenient for her to travel, that is. And he’d profit too, no doubt about it. So, did that make them bad people? Marrying simply to get what they each wanted? Would the Almighty strike them dead the moment they set foot in church the first time together?
Daphne checked her small time piece. She needed to get downstairs. Walker would arrive soon.
A knock sounded at the door. Great, she thought. That must be Ophelia. She went to the door and opened it. Sure enough …
“Hello!” Ophelia said happily. “Are you ready?”
Daphne smiled. “As I’ll ever be.”
Ophelia’s smile vanished. “You don’t look ready.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as her brows knit.
“Well, you don’t look very happy. Are you okay?”
How did she do that? Daphne puzzled. The woman was right. She wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. The success of her meeting with Walker could well turn to disaster, to say the least. As soon as he saw the others, he’d balk and leave the saloon before he ever sat down. Then the questions would start and she’d have no answers and …
“Daphne, are you not comfortable having us with you?” Ophelia asked.
Thank the Lord! Daphne praised silently. “Well, it does make me a little nervous.”
“You don’t have to be nervous. Besides, it’s better for your reputation if we all meet together. Just like one big happy family.”
Daphne cringed. She was sure her chaperones were going to make Walker anything but happy.
“Felicity and Chase are already downstairs,” Ophelia said as she turned. “We’d best hurry.”
She knew it! Just her luck the reverend and his wife were joining them. Now Walker was definitely out. Worse, these people would still think she wanted to get married and set about the task of finding a suitable husband
. Maybe she could sneak out of town sometime in the night …
“Are you forgetting something?” Ophelia asked as she stood in front of her own door.
“No, nothing,” came out weak, but audible. Daphne stepped back inside, picked up her reticule and went into the hall. She then locked the door and did her best to remain calm. If she wasn’t careful, she might end up married to someone she didn’t want to be, and all because of Ophelia and her friend’s good intentions. Sigh.
“Clint went downstairs to join the others,” Ophelia said. “We’re late.” She picked up her skirt and headed down the hall.
“How can we be late?” Daphne asked and followed. “It’s not five o’clock yet.”
“No, but Chase and Felicity wanted to have a word with you before your gentleman arrives.”
A chill went up her spine and Daphne wasn’t sure if it was because of her bevy of chaperones or the fact Ophelia called Walker “her gentleman.” Both were beginning to scare her. Walker could very well let the cat out of the bag and disclose her plans. Then what would she do? Fortunately, he was more likely to come up with an excuse to vamoose out of The Golden Nugget. It was one thing to have Ophelia and Clint join them for coffee, quite another to have Reverend Hammond and Felicity along. Poor Walker was going to take one look at the good reverend and panic.
Daphne might as well pack her bags and buy stage fare to Junction after the meeting. Why wait to be run out of town?
Downstairs there was no sign of Walker, thank Heaven! Reverend Hammond, his wife and Clint Jones were seated at a table against a far wall. Ophelia mentioned the reverend used it as his “office,” and held meetings there. The sight of the clergyman at a table in a saloon filled with rowdy miners spoke of his dedication. What she wouldn’t give to see the man’s face the day his church was built.
“Miss Dolittle,” the reverend greeted. “We meet again. Do sit down.”
Daphne did her best to smile. He sounded as if this was his meeting, not hers. Maybe that’s exactly how he saw it. Great.
