Owen’s hand lowered to cover theirs. “May it be so. Dulcina and Gabriel, by your promises of love to one another and, with the power vested in me by the Territory of Utah, I now proclaim you married. Go forth as husband and wife, Mister and Missus Gabriel Magnus.”
Chapter Seven
“D idn’t you forget the part about the marriage kiss?” Gabriel held tight to Dulcina’s hand.
Judge Vaile cleared his throat. “Well, with circumstances being the way they are in this town, not every couple is ready for that step.”
“I am.” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow.
With a nod, the judge straightened. “As you’ve been declared married, Gabriel Magnus, you may kiss the bride.”
Their second kiss. He’d been waiting to feel it for a very long time. Gabriel slipped an arm around her shoulders and the other over her back to settle a hand on her ribs. She pressed against his hold but only for a second or two then relaxed. The height difference was enough that her head had to tip up for him to reach her mouth. Leaning down, he breathed in the unforgettable sweet scent of jasmine and filled his nose with her essence. And waited.
Dulcina slowly lifted her chin until she met his gaze then trembled.
He couldn’t hide the blatant desire in his eyes, nor did he want to. As he closed the distance between their mouths, he saw her eyelids flutter shut. The first taste of her pouty lips jolted him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck like a too-close lightning strike.
She grabbed his shoulders.
Pressing harder, he molded his lips over hers, moving gently but not demanding, until he felt her response. Just a faint movement but it was enough for now. This office was not the location to search for a deeper response. As he pulled away, he grinned and turned to shake the judge’s hand. “Sir, I’ve brought along a few documents for you to sign as witness. And I’ll need a copy of the marriage certificate, like I mentioned in my telegram.”
The women rushed forward with congratulations for Dulcina and pulled her off to the side of the room.
The sight made him wonder why Dulcina hadn’t asked for a special friend to be present as her witness. Thinking back to their walks from the Wells Fargo depot and to this office, he realized no one had called out to her with a greeting.
Stepping to the side of the judge’s desk, Gabriel pulled out the documents he’d had prepared by an attorney in Salt Lake City. Doing so had added a day or two to the trip, but he wanted to make sure Dulcina never again felt the way she must have when she wrote her plea. “I was advised this document should allow me access to her bank account and vault security box, if she has one.”
Judge Vaile moved to his chair and sat to read the paper. Nodding, he looked up. “Grant Smithson is a competent lawyer, and everything looks in order.”
Gabriel set down a second document. “And this is my will stating that all my accounts and possessions, including my inheritance from the family’s rancho in New Mexico Territory, go to her, in case of my death.”
“A generous gesture for a new bride.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Our families are very close.” He waited while the judge reviewed this longer legal paper. As soon as the man lifted his head, Gabriel waved a hand at it. “Will you witness our signatures on the will?”
“Of course. Excuse me, ladies, now we need to conclude the business part of the ceremony.”
Gabriel stepped back as the ladies rejoined them. Task two completed.
Ten minutes later, they entered the Crane Bank. Gabriel saw a male and female teller in their places behind barred windows and waited to be called forward. To the side of the front door was a desk where a man in his late forties sat. Beyond his desk was a closed office door with the painted title of Bank President.
“I know I should have come here earlier to check on things…” Dulcina shrugged.
“Don’t worry, mí corazón. I understand.” Gabriel barely noticed speaking the affectionate term. He’d been thinking of her as “my heart” ever since he received her letter.
A dark-haired woman with a pale complexion waved them forward. “Welcome to Crane Bank. Oh…” As she nodded at Dulcina, she blushed. “How might I assist you today, sir?
“Good afternoon.” He slid the documents under the metal bars between them. “My name’s Gabriel Magnus, and I’d like access to my wife’s records.” He jabbed a finger at the top one. “As you see, we’re recently married.” Biting back a chuckle that the ink might not be dry yet, he shifted the certificate to expose the one underneath. “And this document grants me the right to have my name added to all legal documents being held in this establishment, especially the lease on the saloon.”
Her eyes widened as she read the papers and shot looks at them both. She pushed her spectacles up her nose. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t handled a transaction quite like this one. I’ll need to check with the bank manager, Mister Humphries.”
“Thank you, miss.”
The slumped-shouldered woman moved away, carrying the papers.
“Her name’s Birdie Templeton, and she’s not as old as she dresses and acts. I think she does it to escape unwanted attention from her boss.” Dulcina turned as the teller progressed across the room. “I hope I don’t have to face Mortimer Crane again.”
He reached for her hand and snuggled it into the crook of his elbow. “I guarantee you won’t have to face him alone. Part of my purpose is to make all the bank employees, and especially Mister Crane, aware that you now have someone at your side. I will keep him from taking advantage or attempting to do so in the future.” Her relieved smile was his reward.
“You’ve only been in town a few hours, and my worries are almost gone. Like they’ve galloped away.” Her eyes rounded, and she shook his arm. “You missed the most glorious sight. This morning around breakfast—or breakfast time for most people—the horses being auctioned were guided into town by drovers from the Rafter O Ranch. The pounding was as loud as a thunderstorm. My bedroom overlooks the alley, so I had to run to the bedroom closest to Front Street. By then, I only saw the last dozen or so but they were wonderful to behold.”
“I’m sure they were.” He smiled at how her brown eyes danced as she described the galloping herd. “Probably like round-up at the rancho.”
“So many years have passed since I’d seen a herd of horses of that size.”
“Excuse me, folks.”
Gabriel turned toward the woman who spoke, noting she hadn’t returned to her cage. “Yes?”
“The bank manager would like to speak with you.” She walked ahead, her shoulders slouched.
Dulcina leaned close. “I hope he won’t give us any trouble.”
Gabriel patted her hand as they approached the front desk. If anything, the manager should worry about the trouble Gabriel might cause. He studied the manager who’d stood. His brown hair showed gray at the temples, and he wore a thin moustache.
“William Humphries, at your service, Mister Magnus.” He extended a slender, pale hand.
Gabriel gripped and shook, watching the skin at the man’s eyes tighten. “I’m glad to hear your comment about service, Mister Humphries. I’m rather surprised a teller couldn’t handle our request.” He guided Dulcina to a chair and waited for the manager to address her.
“Well, sir, not every day is the bank served with a sworn legal document.”
Irritation rose as the seconds passed. Gabriel sat and rested his hat on his knee. “I am sure you read that Dulcina and I have just been married. She has been a customer of Crane Bank for a while now. Don’t you think my bride deserves your congratulations, Mister Humphries?”
The man shuffled the papers on the desk in front of him then glanced to the side. “Congratulations, Missus Magnus.”
“Thank you, Mister Humphries.” She shot Gabriel a look then focused again on the manager.
“Are you the one who will carry out my request?” Gabriel watched the older man fidget with the tails of his vest and his watch chain.
“Mister Magnus, your request is rather bold in light of the fact no one here can vouch for your identity.”
“I can, Mister Humphries.” Dulcina scooted to the front of the chair. “I’ve known Gabriel Magnus all my life. Do I not count? What about the Wells Fargo drivers who brought him here today from Evanston?” She reached forward and tapped a finger on the desk. “Or Judge Vaile, who witnessed that document not thirty minutes ago?”
Maybe Gabriel wouldn’t have to take care of all her problems. He bit back a smile as he reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a document carried from Questa. “I had the priest in the city where I was born copy this information from the church registry. Will that admittedly reliable proof suffice?”
“Oh, well, if I had seen this certificate first.” He gathered the three papers and tapped their ends on the desktop. “I’ll just hold on to these for when Mister Crane is free.”
“No, sir, you will not.” He’d said free, so that word meant the president was in his office. “Those documents do not leave my presence.” He stood, tugged them from the manager’s hand, and strode to the closed door. After a double knock, he swung open the door and spotted a short man in a plaid suit hurrying to claim his chair behind a big desk. Gabriel was glad to note he stood at least a head taller—being his height often had its advantages. “I have a matter to discuss with you, Mister Crane.”
The brown-haired man straightened his jacket then pressed his hands on the dark-wood desk. “I don’t recall having an appointment scheduled.”
Gabriel strode inside, hoping Dulcina took the hint and followed. When the scent of jasmine tickled his nose, he silently cheered that she had. A pointed stare at the man who hadn’t risen in Dulcina’s presence received no response. Gabriel already knew the man held to unscrupulous business practices, but he also exhibited no class. “From what I understand, that fact does not stop you from accosting people on the street or in their places of business.”
Crane’s gaze narrowed and shifted to the side. “Missus Crass, always a pleasure.”
“From now on, you will address her as Missus Magnus. I am her husband, Gabriel. Unfortunately, your manager could not help with our request.” After setting his documents before the mustachioed man, he sat in a chair in front of the desk without waiting for an invitation. A rustle of clothing from his left indicated Dulcina had done so, as well. Good, we appear united.
“Mister Humphries is quite competent.” Crane shifted aside the pages, glancing at only the top one. “You must be asking for something that doesn’t fit with my bank’s policies.”
“I doubt that. As Dulcina’s new husband, I requested being given her records and whatever is being stored in a vault security box to review.”
“What documents would that be, Dul, er, Missus Magnus? You know Stuart is the one who handled all the banking.” He smirked in her direction then reached into the top drawer and lifted out a fat cigar from a leather case.
“Please refrain from lighting that in a lady’s presence.” Gabriel leaned forward and set a hand on the edge of the desk. “Missus Magnus does not need to enumerate the documents. She was legally married to…” He swallowed, because he would have to speak the man’s name even after he told Dulcina to put him in the past. “Stuart Crass at the time of his death. Therefore, everything he owned is now hers by the established common law rules of inheritance.” He’d asked Smithson to coach him on legal responses to various arguments anyone would put in the way of Gabriel’s goal.
Crane chewed on the end of the cigar, but he hadn’t yet struck a match. A muscle in his cheek flexed, and he flicked his gaze between the seated individuals. Then he jumped up and stomped to the door, yanking it open. “Humphries, bring me the ledger containing the “C” accounts, and then escort Missus Magnus to the vault to open her private box.”
Keeping delight from his expression was tough, but Gabriel flashed a grin at Dulcina.
Cheeks flushed, she slowly rose to her feet.
That’s right, my sweet. Do not let them see what you’re feeling. He stood until she was through the doorway then resumed his seat.
Crane moved around to his desk and sat. “The ledger’s at Humphries desk for your review.”
“Since I might have questions, I would like it brought in here.” He let his mouth loosen into a semblance of a friendly smile. “I always prefer to deal with the man in charge.”
Puffing out his chest, Crane smoothed fingers over his mustache. “Can’t argue with that philosophy.”
A couple of minutes passed in tense silence before Dulcina was escorted into the room. Gabriel stood and made a show of cupping her elbow to guide her to the chair. “Did you receive what you needed, dear?”
“I did.” She wiggled a bundle of papers then lowered them to her lap.
Mister Humphries returned with the thick ledger and made to set it in front of the president.
“I will need that book here, if you don’t mind.” Gabriel tapped the space in front of his chair. He waited while the manager flipped to the correct page then stepped back. Gabriel read slowly to study how the saloon had fared. He noted an opening deposit about eleven months earlier of four hundred fifteen dollars followed by weekly deposits and irregular withdrawals that probably represented normal business practices. Then, starting early in December, the deposits outpaced the withdrawals, and the last listed balance amounted to nine hundred seventy-nine dollars. He placed his finger next to the sum and looked up. With a balance like that, Dulcina’s late husband had no need to take out a loan. Not when his business thrived. “I do have a question.”
Crane arched his neck to look at the page. “What’s that?”
“I see no record of an outstanding two-hundred-dollar loan. May I assume the document you showed my wife was in error?” The look of panic on the man’s face gave away his ruse.
The bank owner cleared his throat and came around to run his finger down the column of numbers. “Well, I suppose the ledger hasn’t been updated.”
Mister Humphries shuffled his feet.
Gabriel forced his eyebrows high in a show of shock. “Are you saying your bank does not update the general ledger for several weeks at a time?”
Crane waved a hand in the air. “Your wife must be mistaken about the date.”
Standing to his full height, Gabriel took secret pleasure in watching the bank president adjust his head backward. “My wife did not say a word to me about the loan. I heard from another person how you threatened her and removed a valuable case from the saloon in partial payment of a debt that I see is not even listed on the books.” He paused, letting his words soak in. “Are funds in this establishment being mismanaged? Do I need to bring this fiscal matter to the attention of the United States Marshals?”
Dulcina breathed out a whoosh of air.
“Humphries, close that door.” Crane moved to the back side of the desk. “I’m sure the Magnuses don’t wish everyone to know their business.”
Or you don’t want anyone to hear the threat of bringing in the marshals. “Certainly, three weeks is a very long time for customer records not to be updated to a ledger. I had anticipated adding the remainder of my traveling funds to Dulcina’s account.” He patted a hand on his breast pocket. “But now I am wondering if we would be better off just closing it and opening an account with more responsible practices.” He turned his back toward the president and manager and winked at his wife. “What do you think of that question, Dulcina, mí corazón?”
“Now, sir, don’t be hasty about your decision.”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow arched. “Oh, why is that?”
“Um.” Crane pulled the ledger in front of him. “First, I will have my head teller double-check these figures.”
“I don’t believe arithmetic is the problem here.” Gabriel turned and braced his hands on the desk, leaning as far forward as he could. He really shouldn’t be enjoying watching the blood drain from the pudgy man’s face. “Mister C
rane, does the two-hundred-dollar loan exist? If it does, I demand to see the promissory note.”
Crane glared between the two customers, his face reddening with each passing second. “I must have been mistaken about the loan being Stuart’s.” He waved a hand in the air. “You’re a newcomer, Gabriel…may I call you that?”
“No. I prefer Mister Magnus.”
“As owner of this entire town, I manage a lot of properties and businesses, each with rents and leases, and some have loans against them.” Crane produced a dry chuckle. “I must have been mistaken.”
“Come, Dulcina. Our business is done here.” Gabriel leaned over to whisper then straightened and helped her stand.
“Mister Crane.” Dulcina squared her shoulders. “Since the loan didn’t exist, I expect to have my wooden case delivered to the Last Chance within the hour.” She turned and sailed out of the office.
When he figured she was out of earshot, Gabriel pinned the man with his meanest glare. “If you ever come anywhere near my wife with another threat, you will answer to me.”
Task three completed.
Chapter Eight
T he return walk from the bank occurred in silence. Stunned by the definite shift in dynamics, Dulcina had been mesmerized by the way Gabriel defended her interests. His physicality made him an imposing foe. She’d had a hard time not grinning at the sight of Mortimer Crane being put in his place. Knowing that creepy little man would no longer pop up when she least expected him provided a huge relief. Later, she’d worry about the contents of the documents she gripped in her hand.
They stepped into the saloon, and she was pleased to count more customers present than she’d seen in months. The horse auction was doing exactly what the widows hoped—bringing needed revenue to the town. Maybe enough customers were here so singing a few songs would have a decent audience. Then she remembered the lack of piano player. At the foot of the stairs, she placed her hand on the newel post and turned to Gabriel. “I want to change out of this gown into something more appropriate for serving drinks.”
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