Mona Hodgson

by Too Rich for a Bride

  And if Ida didn’t know about his obligations in California, she’d say the two of them belonged like this side by side, forever and always.

  FORTY

  uesday morning, as Ida made her way down the hill to Mollie O’Bryan’s office, her heart relived every moment from the previous evening. When Colin Wagner had met the train and tried to kidnap her, she’d tasted a fear she hadn’t experienced since the day the miners found her at the creek. Colin had fooled and betrayed her, as well as everyone in the business district and everyone in the church.

  Almost everyone. Early on, she’d sensed Tucker Raines’s hesitance to trust the man.

  She hadn’t paid attention to Tucker’s instincts then, but she was now.

  Ida paused in front of the familiar brick building. Before opening the door, she reached into her reticule and pulled out the folded envelope she’d addressed to Miss Mollie O’Bryan. No more using privileged information from clients. No more frequenting the stock exchange every day. She’d only been in town three months, but she needed a fresh start. Tucker’s frankness with her on Christmas Day and her revelation that night had sparked a new beginning, and her experiences yesterday had prompted her next steps.

  Ida opened the door to Mollie O’Bryan’s Stenography Firm. The inside resonated with the sound of laughter. Mollie and Mr. Miller were in Mollie’s private office with the door open.

  “Pardon me, Miss O’Bryan.” Ida took slow steps toward it.

  “Ida’s here!” Mollie rushed through the open doorway with a full-faced smile lighting her green eyes. Mr. Miller joined her. Each of them held a half-empty champagne glass in one hand and a lit cigar in the other.

  Miller set his glass down and pulled a piece of paper from the top of the desk. “Thanks to your diligence, Ida, we have answers concerning the questionable assay report.”

  Ida set her reticule and the envelope on the corner near Miller’s glass. “You heard the ore sample from the Olive Branch Mine was switched?”

  Mollie nodded, and the ostrich plume on her hat bobbed.

  “I know that you and the assayer in Colorado Springs telephoned Blackmer yesterday.” Miller handed the sheet of paper to Ida. “As soon as Blackmer hung up the telephone, he hand-carried another ore sample to the local assayer. That’s the authentic report.”

  Ida studied the certificate. Her information had been correct, despite the fact that her methods for procuring it hadn’t been.

  Mollie set down her glass. “Colin Wagner had us all wearing blinders.” She perched a hand on her hip. “He switched the sample. And come to find out … this wasn’t the first time he’d pulled the wool over our eyes.”

  “A young assay trainee here in town worked for him before the assayer suspected something and fired the kid. Seems Wagner had quite an impressive high-grade business.” Miller retrieved his glass from the desk. “He bought raw gold and high-grade ore from mine employees and sold it to crooked assayers. Running a regular den of thieves …”

  And she’d walked right into it.

  Ida lifted her envelope and held it out to Mollie.

  Mollie set her cigar in a tray on the desk. “What’s this?” She slid her finger beneath the sealed flap and opened it. “You’re resigning?”

  “I—”

  “You want an apology, is that it? I can apologize.” Mollie straightened and cleared her throat. “I was wrong to burst into the boardinghouse in such a foul mood. I’m sorry if you felt like I accused you of wrongdoing.”

  “I’m not quitting because you were mad.” Ida met Mollie’s narrowed gaze. “I liked working here. You taught me a lot.” Not all of it good. “But I didn’t know what our gleaning methods could do to the broader majority in Cripple Creek. I do now.”

  “Sounds to me like my protégé has developed scruples.”

  Miller nodded and tucked the assay report into his herringbone jacket.

  “Since that’s the case, it won’t do either of us any good to have you here for the two weeks you offered me in your resignation.” Mollie turned back toward her office. “I’ll release you, pay you for the two weeks, and we’ll call it even.”

  The new assay meant she and Mollie hadn’t lost their investment but instead had made a considerable sum of money. It meant the same for Boney and Otis, but Ida knew many folks had already sold their stocks, not knowing how valuable they were to people like her—who did know. She’d confessed her wrongdoing and knew God had forgiven her, but she also knew other people hadn’t been as fortunate and were a long way south of even. She couldn’t right all of her wrongs, but she longed to do something good with her windfall.

  Lord, what can I do?

  Tucker didn’t go directly to Taggart’s office. He wanted a little time alone in the sanctuary before giving Reverend Taggart his answer.

  As Tucker started up the center aisle, he imagined himself waiting at the front while Ida Sinclair sashayed toward him, dressed in white. This time he didn’t scold himself for thinking such thoughts.

  He loved Ida. Perhaps he had since the day he’d seen her in town after his ill-fated meeting at the bank. He’d asked God aloud what He was doing and Ida had heard him.

  “So did He tell you? You asked God what He’s doing. Did He tell you?”

  “Not yet. Unless you’re part of an answer.”

  Even then, at least deep down, Tucker had known he wanted more than mere friendship with the enigmatic Miss Ida Sinclair. He’d asked her to coffee and she’d refused. At the time, he was thankful she’d had the good sense to turn him down. But after their time in the post office and at the creek, he could no longer deny his feelings. After he’d left Ida alone in Hattie’s entryway last night and driven home to an empty house, he knew he’d left part of himself with her.

  He’d thought the life of an unattached traveling preacher suited him, but he didn’t think that anymore. God no doubt knew it long before Tucker opened that depot door and ended up with a hatpin stuck in the toe of his boot.

  Footsteps alerted him to someone else’s presence and he turned around, hoping it would be Ida. The reverend had found him instead.

  Reverend Taggart shook Tucker’s hand. “You have your answer yet?”

  “I do.”

  FORTY-ONE

  twinge of worry slowed Ida’s steps up the hill. She didn’t know what she would do for work, but she’d figured out what she wouldn’t do. For now, that was enough. She’d chosen to trust and obey God. Not knowing what her future held felt foreign and exhilarating. Not having a plan for her every move would be an adventure.

  She’d start that adventure first thing tomorrow. Today, she had plans.

  From Mollie O’Bryan’s office, Ida headed to the church. The First Congregational Church sat on a large corner lot with a parsonage behind it. Staring up at the white steeple, Ida wondered if Tucker would ever tire of traveling. Would he ever want to settle down in a community church and live in a parsonage?

  With me?

  As Ida climbed the front steps, she wondered what it would be like to walk the same steps hand in hand with Tucker Raines.

  Husband and wife.

  Whoa, girl.

  She couldn’t rein Tucker in. He had to follow his heart, even if it took him on the road again. Back to Willow. Back to scattered audiences.

  She would trust God’s plans for her, which she believed included seeing the reverend.

  When Ida stepped into the vestibule, she heard two men conversing inside the sanctuary. She’d just reached the back pew when she heard Tucker speak.

  “I’ll turn the management of the Raines Ice Company over to Otis Bernard.” Wistfulness tinted Tucker’s normally smooth voice. “Otis and his family will move into my parents’ home.”

  Ida gasped. Tucker really was leaving, and soon, if he’d already made such arrangements.

  Both men noticed her at the same time and fell silent.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She focused on the reverend for fear that looking into T
ucker’s brown eyes would flood her own. “Please excuse me.”

  “Don’t mind us. We’re just two preachers jawing.” Reverend Taggart’s smile involved his whole face, wrinkling well up onto his bald head.

  Tucker moved toward her. “Were you looking for me?”

  “Actually, I came to see Reverend Taggart, but since you’re here, I do have good news to share with you.”

  “Good news?”

  Ida nodded, still avoiding his gaze. “Henry Blackmer personally took another ore sample to the assayer here in town. It’s authentic and quite valuable.”

  “Then Otis’s certificates are—”

  “Once again a good investment.” Ida gave her full attention to the shorter man. “Reverend, I have something I want to give you.” She set her reticule on the back of the pew and pulled out a folded stock certificate. “I planned to do this in private, but”—she lowered her voice—“you mentioned a great need for funds to help the widows and orphans. I want to donate this. The stock should pay out nicely within a couple of weeks.”

  Pushing his spectacles up on his nose, the reverend accepted the certificate and studied the sheet of paper. “You’re donating five thousand shares of Olive Branch Mine stock?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “This is very generous of you.”

  “Then you have the Lord to thank for that, sir.” She retrieved her reticule.

  “I have some news myself,” Tucker said. A strand of molasses-brown hair drew her attention to his temple and the memory of him brushing back a stray tendril of her hair last night.

  The reverend clapped Tucker on the shoulder. “Miss Sinclair, you’re looking at the new pastor of the First Congregational Church.”

  “I am?” She gazed at him in wonder, then glanced down at her boots to see if they were planted on the ground. “That’s great news!”

  “Reverend Taggart is moving back to New York next month, taking a church there to be closer to his ailing parents.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, but I haven’t been voted in yet.”

  “Just a matter of time.” The shorter man’s smile rippled clear back to his receding hairline again. “I don’t expect that’ll be a problem in the least.”

  Ida felt her smile fade. Unless the congregation doesn’t approve of the company he keeps. She could name at least a handful of influential people in the church who didn’t approve of her involvement in business.

  “If you’ll excuse me …” She took a step back.

  Tucker moved toward her. “I’d like to see you later.” That strand of hair still pointed to his coffee-brown eyes.

  She offered a quick nod and a wave, then took unladylike strides toward the door. She had more stops on her list.

  Ida approached the icehouse, remembering her first visit, when she’d found Tucker sitting on a wagon seat, reading a letter from Willow. Today Otis Bernard was sliding an enormous block of ice into the back of a wagon.

  He noticed her and stood. “Miss Ida.” After removing his hat, the gentle giant then pulled off his gloves. “Good day, ma’am.”

  “It is a good day, Otis.” She shook his hand.

  “Mr. Tucker isn’t here, ma’am. Expect he’d be here soon though if he knew you was coming.” A lopsided smile revealed a dimple in the man’s chin.

  “Thank you, but I came to see you about the Olive Branch Mine stock Boney bought for you.”

  “Yes ma’am, he did.”

  “The sample taken to the assayer was a fake.”

  His eyes grew wide. “What are you saying, ma’am?”

  “I’m saying we have a new report back on the actual sample, and it is good news. Your stock is worth far more than you paid for it.”

  Otis tossed his gloves into the air and let out a whoop. On the starriest of nights, Ida couldn’t expect to see as much light as she witnessed on his face.

  A good day, indeed.

  Thank You, Lord. For grace and mercy. For redemption. For relationship with You.

  And that Tucker Raines plans to remain in Cripple Creek.

  FORTY-TWO

  ucker took the long way home from the church. He hadn’t intended to, but then, he hadn’t expected Ida Sinclair to show up in the sanctuary and then leave as quickly as she arrived.

  He thought she’d returned to work, but shortly after his meeting with Reverend Taggart, he disproved the work theory. As he reached for the door at the stenography firm, Miss O’Bryan and Mr. Miller stepped out of the office.

  “You are a persistent one, Mr. Raines.” Miss O’Bryan clucked her tongue and locked the door behind her. “But you won’t find Miss Sinclair here. She quit today.”

  He felt a jump in his chest and a catch in his throat. Ida was apparently following her heart, and he hoped it would lead her to him.

  His second detour didn’t prove successful either. At least not where Ida was concerned. Stopping by the boardinghouse had, however, earned him a piece of cherry pie and a chat with Miss Hattie. Amazing how quickly a story could spread and grow arms. He’d assured her there were no brawls in the mud or gunfire involved in last evening’s happenings and went on to tell her his plans for the future.

  Tucker’s other guess as to Ida’s whereabouts involved her sisters. But he couldn’t be sure she was with them, and since showing up at Kat’s or Nell’s home unannounced wouldn’t be appropriate, he walked toward Warren Avenue and headed toward home instead.

  As he cleared the intersection at his property, he glanced toward the creek.

  A lone figure sat at one end of the bench beside the small, now leafless willow tree, wearing a navy blue silk turban hat and a wool cape. Her presence set his heart to racing.

  “Ida.” He called out to her long before she could hear his footfalls. He did not want to startle her.

  She stood and watched him walk toward her. “You said you wanted to see me later.”

  “I did.” He stopped directly in front of her. “Thank you.” He felt twelve years old again and just as awkward.

  Ida pressed her lips together as if to stunt a grin. She looked down at the bench, where a large hatbox lay. “I have something for you.”

  “Let’s sit down, shall we?” Tucker motioned to the bench and then picked up the box.

  “Can’t take seeing another one of my presents standing up, huh?” Ida giggled and lowered herself onto the bench at the far end.

  “You’ve figured me out.” Tucker placed the gift between them and removed the lid. He ran his fingers down the edge and under the wide brim of an austere, handsome black felt hat. He slowly lifted it out of the box and inspected it from every angle. He reached up and removed his old hat and set it in the box. Then he held the new beauty with both hands and lowered it onto his head. “Thank you. It’s a perfect fit.”

  So was she. And he believed with all his heart that God had brought them together.

  Tucker cast his big, brown-eyed gaze her way and Ida thought her heart might thump right out of her chest.

  He liked the new preacher’s hat she’d given him. He wasn’t leaving town. He was giving up the life of a traveling preacher to settle down in Cripple Creek. Was it too much to hope they could have a life together?

  “My father and mother plan to remain in Colorado Springs.” Tucker paused. “Father agreed that Otis can manage the day-to-day operations of the ice company, including caring for the horses and wagons. I’ll be moving into the parsonage, if the church votes to call me as their new pastor.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Mind if I ask you a question?”

  She nodded, her heart responding favorably to the twinkle in his eyes. “I mean go ahead, ask me.”

  Tucker switched places with the hatbox and moved to her side. “My question has to do with courtship.”

  “Courtship?”

  When Tucker reached for both of her hands, she wished her gloves were tucked into her pockets so she could feel his tender touch. Clearing his throat, h
e looked directly into her eyes. So this was what it felt like to swim in a pool of hot chocolate.

  “Do you suppose our two creekside talks, a chat at the post office, three buggy rides, Thanksgiving and Christmas suppers with the family, and a showdown in the street could comprise a proper courtship?” There was that sunny smile of his again.

  A sudden wave of lightheadedness threatened to overcome her, and she squeezed his hands. If Tucker hadn’t been holding on to her, she surely would’ve slid right off the bench onto the snow. He wasn’t asking to court her.

  After courtship came marriage.

  Ida gulped. “Are you asking if we might forgo a formal courtship?”

  “I didn’t want to love you, or anyone else. I considered my plate full.” He removed his new hat and set it on top of the box. “But I do love you, Miss Ida Sinclair. I love that you are sensitive to God’s Spirit.”

  “A little late.”

  “I love your no-nonsense approach to life and your determination to be equal to any person, man or woman. And I want to spend the rest of my days on earth—many or few—with you at my side.”

  Tears streamed down Ida’s face. The preaching ice man loved her. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  She blinked back her tears and looked up into his glistening eyes. “I love you too.”

  Tucker let go of her hands and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a jewelry box. “Miss Ida Sinclair, I would be honored to call you my wife.” His voice cracked, and he opened the box. “Will you marry me?”

  Ida stared at the delicate gold band. Two leaves flowed outward from the center, joined at the stems by a single diamond.

  She so wanted to tell him yes. She wanted to shout it. So why couldn’t she so much as whisper her heart’s desire?

  “I haven’t been voted in yet.”

  “I’ll move into the parsonage, if the church votes to call me as their new pastor.”

  If. The congregation, without a moment’s hesitation, would call Tucker Raines—the single man—to be their pastor. They loved him, his heart and his preaching.