by Cassie Hayes
“Yes, I’m the fourth,” said a beautiful young woman with long, brown hair and blue eyes. “I’m JoAnn Becker. Nice to meet you. Did the others tell you that Kendall will be my husband? Did you know he plays guitar? I play the violin, so really we’ll be a match made in heaven, just like Miss Hazel says.”
“Okay, dear,” Miss Hazel said, guiding a very chatty JoAnn to her work station. “Now, as I was saying, you will need to measure the flour carefully…”
Twenty minutes later, five bowls of dough were covered and rising on the counter, but Miss Hazel wasn’t finished with them yet. It was only the beginning, and Tilly couldn’t have been happier.
“Next we’ll learn how to make stew,” their matron instructed. “There is no shortage of meat out west, from beef to venison to moose—“
“Moose?” JoAnn cried, looking shocked and more than a little anxious. “They have meese there?”
“The plural of moose is still moose, dear,” Miss Hazel said. “And their meat is quite delicious. But today we’ll be using regular old cow meat.”
“Cow meat?” JoAnn cried out again.
Miss Hazel took her aside to calm her down while Tilly showed Rose and Evelyn how to cut tougher cuts of meat against the grain to make it as tender as possible. “If you happen to have a little red wine, marinate it for an hour or so to make it even more tender,” she added.
Miss Hazel snorted and her hand flew up to her nose. “Oh my, I’m sorry, dear. I hope you won’t be disappointed by the selection of goods available in Squirrel Ridge Junction…or lack thereof.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” Tilly said, once again doubting fate’s decision.
Chewing on her lip, deep in thought, she absentmindedly chopped an onion in just a few seconds. As she reached for a couple of carrots, she noticed Rose gawking at her. “What?”
“How did you do that so quickly? I’m only two slices in and I nearly chopped off my finger getting that far!”
“Oh, I was trained to at culinary school.”
Rose’s eyes grew wider. “You went to culinary school? How exciting!”
Tilly had never thought of school as exciting, though she had loved it. “I suppose so.”
“Your family must be quite well off to afford that.”
Tilly was surprised by Rose’s bluntness, but also charmed. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.
“Not really,” Tilly answered with a smile. “I’m the oldest of ten, and I think my father just wanted a little more elbow room at the dinner table.”
Rose laughed, and Tilly knew instantly they’d be friends. Anyone with a wonderful laugh like that was worth knowing.
“You’re joking!”
“Maybe a little,” Tilly conceded. “But we lived in a very small house for such a large family. My father is a milliner, so while he makes stunning hats for wealthy ladies, we were far from wealthy. He did somehow manage to save enough to send me to school, though.”
“Did you always love cooking?” Rose asked as Tilly showed her how to chop four carrots at once.
“Oh, yes. I was always in the kitchen helping my mother with meals. I even learned to read using cookbooks. By the time I was twelve, I’d taken over most of the cooking duties, which pleased my mother.”
“Goodness, that’s a lot of mouths to feed.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Tilly said without thinking. “I’ve cooked for parties of over a hundred.”
The other ladies looked surprised.
“So when Miss Hazel said you were a chef, she didn’t mean you were simply a good cook,” Evelyn said. “You’re a real chef? Where?”
Realizing her mistake, Tilly dropped her eyes to the celery she was chopping. “For, um, a wealthy family.”
JoAnn’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, who? I might know them.”
Real fear flared in Tilly’s heart. She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t dare tell them who she’d worked for. Besides, she’d vowed to never speak his name again. “Um…”
“Ladies, enough chit chat,” Miss Hazel chastised. “You all need to focus on your work. I won’t send an unprepared bride to any of the brave men risking their lives day in and day out. They deserve better.”
The other three bent their heads over their half-chopped vegetables, while Tilly looked up at Miss Hazel with gratitude. Miss Hazel tipped her a wink and popped a hunk of carrot in her mouth before turning to JoAnn.
“Dear, try to make your carrots a more uniform size…”
Chapter 2
“Wheeler, are you really going in for thirds?” Kendall Jameson asked as Nolan reached for the pot of stew nestled in the campfire’s embers.
“‘Course,” Nolan snorted. “I always have thirds. You should know that by now.”
Kendall was the newest member of the Mountie squad based in Squirrel Ridge Junction, but he’d been with them long enough to discover all their quirks.
“I know. I’m just wondering why you’d want to. That swill Elijah made is barely edible.”
“Hey!” Elijah Thorpe exclaimed. “My rabbit stew is the finest in all of British Columbia.”
“By whose standards?” Kendall muttered under his breath.
Nolan didn’t mind that the meat was tough, that the only vegetable in the stew was a single potato, or that none of them had thought to pack salt before they’d lit out of Squirrel Ridge Junction on the backs of their trusty black steeds. They’d been riding hard for two days and he was famished. Well, more famished than usual.
“Tastes fine,” he mumbled around a mouthful of the flavorless mush. Truth was it tasted awful…but food was food and he’d never been one to let a single morsel go to waste. Besides, he didn’t want to hurt Elijah’s feelings or he might stop cooking on their overnight excursions. If there was one thing Nolan hated more than going hungry, it was cooking.
“See?” Elijah sniffed at Kendall, who shrugged and threw another bit of dry wood on the fire.
“Don’t stoke it too much,” Nolan warned. “We don’t want Black Jack to spot it and shoot us like he did poor ol’ Silas.”
“You suppose Silas is okay?” Kendall asked. The glow of the fire exposed the worry in his eyes.
“Dunno,” Nolan replied, scraping the last bit of stew from his bowl. “Hope so, but the man was a downright fool for trying to grab Black Jack’s shotgun like that.”
“He was only protecting what was his,” Elijah said, defending the mercantile owner.
“I know, but look where it got him,” Nolan retorted, immediately regretting his callousness. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just frustrated we lost the scoundrel.”
Black Jack Bitters had been plaguing Squirrel Ridge Junction since he’d rolled into town a week earlier. He’d hitched a ride on a passing wagon, and had spent most of his time drinking in a barn with others who didn’t want to bother with riding to the next town’s saloon. Unfortunately, Black Jack had turned out to be a mean drunk, and he’d managed to get into scrapes with several local men.
The card game euchre was popular among the drinkers. Occasionally bets were made, even though gambling was illegal. The locals had cottoned on to Black Jack’s ways and had refused to let him play. Apparently, gambling — or cheating, more than likely — had been the man’s main source of income, so when no one would deal him into a game, he’d become desperate.
The morning before, all the Mounties had just arrived at the office to receive their day’s assignments from Joel Clark, the commanding officer of their team when a young man had come tearing in hollering that someone had been shot.
No one had ever been shot in quiet little Squirrel Ridge Junction, so it had come as a shock. The fellow had gone on to explain that Silas MacGruder, owner of MacGruder’s Mercantile, had been opening his store when a masked man had run in with a rifle, demanding all the money Silas had. Silas, a gruff sort to begin with, had apparently taken issue with the man’s demand and grabbed for the gun, his being tucked behind the
counter, out of reach.
A scuffle had ensued and the gun had gone off, injuring ol’ Silas. Luckily, during the tussle, he’d managed to yank the kerchief off the robber’s face. When he’d run out to steal Silas’ beloved mare, Katie, several people who’d come to investigate the gunshot recognized Black Jack before he’d torn out of town.
Joel had sent Nolan, Kendall, and Elijah after Black Jack, while he and Theodore had stayed behind to take care of Silas. The three of them had tracked the outlaw down countless small forest trails, zigzagging and back-tracking all day, until any trace of him had disappeared. The man clearly had experience evading capture, and he’d done an outstanding job of sending them in circles. They’d made camp that night and in the morning had retraced their steps, looking for any sign of Black Jack. All they’d found was Katie, happily chomping at a grassy patch near a main road. That was something at least, but tensions had mounted as the day progressed.
Of course, not all of that could be blamed on their futile search. Every one of them was keenly aware they were supposed to have been married by this time. Little wonder they were getting on each others’ nerves.
“Silas is a good man, and I pray Doc Sturgis fixed him right up,” Nolan said. “Honestly, I think he’s too cantankerous to die. Didn’t you hear him cussing up a blue streak when we rode past the mercantile on our way out of town?”
Elijah smiled. “Good thing there aren’t very many ladies around to be offended.”
“There are now,” Kendall grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick and sending a spray of sparks into the air.
Of the four remaining unmarried Mounties in Squirrel Ridge Junction, Kendall seemed the most excited to meet his new bride-to-be, JoAnn. That he’d been sent on what turned out to be a wild goose chase — or more appropriately, a wild moose chase — which had prevented him from meeting her train that afternoon obviously made him cranky.
“Yeah,” Elijah replied, “I can’t believe we’re late for our own weddings. Maybe Black Jack did us a favor by disappearing like that.”
That didn’t sit well with Nolan. He’d taken a vow to defend the law and letting a hardened criminal slip through his fingers was a blow to his reputation, not to mention his ego. After all, everyone knew that “a Mountie always gets his man.” What kind of impression would such a failure make on his bride, Tilly? Riding back into Squirrel Ridge Junction with an outlaw in tow would surely have impressed all of the young brides.
“Dunno, I’m sorta wondering if we shouldn’t keep searching.”
“What!” Kendall and Elijah shouted at the same time.
“Shh! What if Black Jack’s nearby, just waiting to make his move?”
Elijah snorted. “That man is long gone, Nolan, and you know it. Face facts. We lost him.”
As much as Nolan hated to admit it, Elijah was right. Black Jack Bitters had somehow managed to shake three trained members of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. If Nolan hadn’t been so frustrated, he might have admired the man’s achievement.
“I agree,” Kendall added. “No sense wandering around like a chicken with its head cut off. If it was up to me, we’d head back right now.”
Nolan scoffed. “In the dead of night? Don’t be ridiculous. Too dangerous.”
Kendall shrugged and jabbed at the fire again. “I know. I just can’t wait to meet JoAnn. Miss Hazel wrote that she’s a musician. I hope she sings too.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting Rose too,” Elijah said, though Nolan thought he spotted doubt or worry in his friend’s eyes. “What about you Nolan?”
Nolan jerked up straight. “Huh? Oh! Um, yeah. Can’t wait.”
Truth was, he seemed to feel more nervous than any of his friends. Ever since agreeing to Miss Hazel’s crazy plan to find the perfect wife for each of them, he’d dreamed about what his would be like. Tall? Petite? Trim? Voluptuous? Having had so little experience with ladies, he truly had no preference. He just wanted someone he could build a happy life with.
After the other three men had received letters from Miss Hazel announcing she’d found their future wives, Nolan had checked the mail every day — and every day he’d been left empty-handed. Thinking his letter had been lost, he’d sent off a note to Miss Hazel, who’d quickly replied she was still “working on it.”
Aside from his voracious appetite, Nolan had always considered himself a pleasant man, someone who could get along with anyone. So why had it been so hard for Miss Hazel to find a woman to agree to marry him, when his three comrades were matched so quickly? He’d begun to wonder if he had some fatal flaw he didn’t see.
By the time his letter had finally arrived, doubts had firmly wormed their way into his brain. When he’d read that Tilly was not only a good cook, but also had excellent character, excitement started drowning his doubts. He read and re-read Miss Hazel’s description of her dozens of times.
Miss Conway is of average height and weight, with hair the color of chestnuts, skin the exact shade of fresh cream, and eyes brighter than the most perfect emerald. Her words are few, until she warms to you, but when she does speak, she will not mince words…so watch your step, Nolan. Her cooking skills are beyond the pale and I have no doubt she will keep even your ravenous hunger sated. Reputation means the world to her, and she is rightly impressed by yours. I know you both will be very happy together.
No, he couldn’t wait to meet Tilly, and he hoped she felt the same. The uncertainty of the entire situation ate at him.
Elijah jerked him out of his thoughts. “I bet you can’t wait. I hear she can really cook, though I’m not sure how she could beat Jess’s pot roast. With you as her husband, that poor woman doesn’t know what she’s in for!”
Nolan laughed good-naturedly. “I just hope she’s kind. If she can cook, that’s even better, but I’m obviously not too picky. Now pass the rest of that stew.”
After the long, arduous train ride across the country, Tilly stepped onto the platform, utterly exhausted and expecting to be greeted by five handsome Mounties dressed in their trademark red serge tunics, midnight blue breeches, and peaked tan hat. She was more than a little put out when only one waited, and he wasn’t Nolan Wheeler, her…fiancé.
The word sounded strange to her, even though she’d grown steadily more eager to start that new chapter in her life. Theirs had not been a normal courtship — in fact, it hadn’t been a courtship at all. She’d been ambivalent since agreeing to marry him until the other brides-to-be had started chatting about their future husbands during the train ride. They’d talked of little else. Throughout the trip, Tilly had found herself wondering if he was as funny as Miss Hazel claimed. She’d also wondered if he would be a gentle man. Certain aspects of marriage worried her, considering her past experiences.
As it turned out, Nolan and two other Mounties had chased after an armed robber who’d shot a man the day before. Any irritation fled from Tilly, but it was replaced by something even more troubling…doubt.
Looking around what there was of Squirrel Ridge Junction, Tilly wondered exactly what she’d gotten herself into. She’d read stories of the Wild West, but she’d assumed by 1910, civilization would surely have spread from coast to coast. Where she was used to tall buildings as far as the eye could see, a sea of people walking along sidewalks, and automobiles careening down streets, Squirrel Ridge Junction consisted of only a handful of wood plank buildings along one main street, a population made up of mostly rough-looking men, and old-fashioned transportation in the form of horses and wagons. Looking around, she doubted the scrubby little town even had running water, much less electricity.
And shoot-outs still occurred.
Sighing in disappointment, Tilly sidled up next to Rose and set down her carpetbag. A startled Rose jumped about three feet in the air, then tripped over Tilly’s bag. Evelyn helped Tilly get their friend back on her feet as Miss Hazel spoke with her son, Theodore, and his wife, Jessica.
“Well, Evelyn,” Tilly said. “It looks as if you’re
the only lucky one who will get married today.”
“Wonderful!” Determination glinted in Evelyn’s smiling eyes. “Now I just need to find him.”
Theodore and Miss Hazel showed Tilly where she’d be staying until her groom returned and invited her to dinner later. She was relieved to have one night alone to settle in and get used to her new reality. After dragging the bathtub into the cabin and filling it with kettle after kettle of hot water, she soaked until she pruned up. Never had a bath felt so delicious.
After a lovely dinner at Jessica and Theodore’s, Tilly had returned to the cabin, fell into bed and slept like the dead.
Tilly woke with the sun, and for a moment couldn’t remember where she was. One peek around the sparse bedroom brought it all crashing back. She was lying in the bed of the man she was supposed to have married the day before, but didn’t. Not because she’d changed her mind, but because he’d never shown up. Not exactly the fresh start she’d been hoping for.
After a quick breakfast with the other women, Tilly was fed, refreshed, and rested, yet had no idea what to do with herself. She wasn’t entirely comfortable changing anything in Nolan’s cabin until they were married, though she saw plenty that tempted her…but she was too anxious to just sit there waiting for him to show up.
As she paced the small cabin and made a mental chore list, her mind kept returning to Mr. MacGruder, the mercantile owner who’d been shot. At dinner the night before, Theodore had said the poor old gentleman had taken a bullet to the leg, but that he would heal nicely in a few weeks. She couldn’t stop wondering how he was taking care of himself without a wife to help him.
“Might as well be of use to someone,” she grumbled to the stale air in the cabin before heading out to find the mercantile.
Leaving the cabin, Tilly’s heart nearly stopped when she spotted a huge moose standing placidly under a clothesline outside Jess’ cabin. His antlers were tangled up in the clean laundry as he munched on the grass between his hooves.
