by Cassie Hayes
“Oh!” she gasped at the sight, recalling Theodore’s warning to not underestimate the danger wild animals posed.
The moose turned baleful eyes on her, then tilted his head. The movement pulled a delicate chemise from the line until it dangled from one point of his antlers. He looked so comical, Tilly couldn’t help snickering.
Almost as if she’d offended him, the moose snorted, then turned and ambled into the dense forest that surrounded them. Her heart still thumping, Tilly smiled as she headed for the heart of Squirrel Ridge Junction.
She only had to ask one man for directions to MacGruder’s mercantile, which happened to be in the middle of Main Street. The bell above the door jingled when she stepped inside, and a gruff voice from overhead echoed down a flight of steep, rickety stairs.
“Can’t help ya today! Come back tomorrow!”
“Mr. MacGruder?”
Silence for a full thirty seconds. The man probably wasn’t used to a woman’s voice.
“Miss Jessica?”
“No, sir. My name is Tilly, Tilly Conway. Would it be alright if I came upstairs for a moment?”
Some unintelligible grumbling reached her ears, but finally he said, “Come on up, if ya wanna.”
Mr. MacGruder’s living quarters — a single room with a small bed, a dresser and a pot-bellied stove — sat directly above the store. The man lay prone in his bed trying to cover his bare leg, which was propped on some pillows.
“Let me help you with that,” Tilly said, hurrying over and adjusting his quilt.
“Weren’t expecting lady company,” he said, scowling at her. “Who’d you say you was again?”
Tilly smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Tilly Conway, sir. I’m here to marry Nolan Wheeler. When I heard he was chasing the man who shot you, I wanted to come check on you and see if I could help in any way.”
“You marryin’ a Mountie?”
Was she? Probably. She’d committed to this course, so there was nothing left to do but follow through.
“Yes, sir.”
“Huh.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Tilly finally broke the silence. “If you’d like, I could make your meals for you while you heal.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “Can ya do more’n burn water?”
Tilly hid her smile behind her hand. “Yes, Mr. MacGruder. With the proper supplies, I can make you a feast.”
His eyes grew wide, and he grinned. “Well, in that case, you can have your pick of whatever I got in stock. Make enough for you and your feller too. Least I can do, seein’s how he’s off catching that sonofa— um…that outlaw.”
Tilly had seen a man steal a bag from a woman on the street once, but she’d never been so close to a victim of such a horrifying crime. She sat on the bed next to him and clasped his hand in both of hers.
“Was it very scary, Mr. MacGruder? I’ve never seen a gun up close.”
He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, then burst into a fit of cackles. “Oh! It hurts! Ow! Oh! Ha!”
Tilly had no idea what she’d said that was so funny, but his humor was contagious and made her smile. Finally, he settled down enough to speak clearly.
“First off, you can call me Silas. Everyone does. Second, I just don’t know what to say to someone who ain’t never seen a gun. Guess you better get used to it, Miss Tilly, cuz there’s a whole heckuva lot of ‘em out here.”
“I’ll do my best, Silas.”
“Now to answer your question, I weren’t scared. I was mad as a bag of cats! That ol’ boy weren’t nothin’ but trouble from the minute he stepped into town. I knew it, and he knew I knew it. It’s why he thought to rob me first, on accountin’ I didn’t like him from the start. Had this wonky eye.”
“Wonky eye?”
“Yeah, wonky. It stared off in the wrong direction and was kinda cloudy, like it got poked or something. I hear tell he was tossing a ruler over the roof of a barn with a pal when they was boys and it stuck him in the eye. Dagblamed fool!”
Tilly gasped, then snickered at the tale, wondering if it could possibly be true, when the doorbell tinkled.
“Can’t help ya today! Come back tomorrow!” Silas shouted at the new visitor.
The man — judging by the heavy steps and the fact very few women lived in Squirrel Ridge Junction — said nothing as he climbed the stairs. Silas scrambled into a more upright position, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Who’s that?” he shouted, clearly afraid it was the robber coming to finish the job. He turned to Tilly and whispered, “Hide.”
Tilly’s heart leapt into her throat as she scrambled behind a coat tree overloaded with garments. One good look and the outlaw would see her shoes peeking out, but it was the best she could do in such a small space. As the clomping boots drew closer, her breath began to come in short, fast hitches — not a bad thing, because the smell coming off the garments made her eyes water. Was her new life over before it had even begun?
“Sorry, Silas,” a man’s deep voice said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare me!” Silas said with a snort. “Don’t talk nonsense, boy. Now what news do ya have on the scoundrel that done this to me?”
Tilly took a chance and peeked out from behind the clothes and her breath stopped altogether. At the foot of Silas’ bed stood a tall Mountie holding his hat in his hands. His broad shoulders stretched the wool of his red serge tunic to its limits. Tilly’s fingers itched to bury themselves deep in his thick, wavy black hair. From her hiding spot, she could only make out his profile, but his strong jaw and bold nose perfectly suited his rugged frame. If her Mountie was as striking as this one, she’d be a very happy girl indeed.
“I’m pained to report we lost him. I’m truly sorry, Silas, but don’t you worry. I’ll keep searching for him. He won’t get away, you have my word on that.”
Silas grumbled so low Tilly couldn’t quite catch everything, but she picked up “blasted Mounties” and “get his man — ha!”
The Mountie dipped his head in defeat, and Tilly’s heart went out to him. The man had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d foregone meeting his bride to chase after Silas’ attacker for two full days and nights. If anything, he deserved a medal, despite the fact the outlaw had escaped.
The handsome man was probably meant for JoAnn; she seemed used to getting the best of everything, and Tilly’s luck had apparently run out. But in spite of being confused by her own feelings of protectiveness for the stranger, Tilly stepped out from her hiding place and shook a finger at Silas.
“Shame on you, Silas MacGruder. This man makes sacrifices you can’t imagine to protect the people of British Columbia. Show him some respect!”
The Mountie jerked around, clearly surprised to find a young woman hiding in Silas’ living quarters. “Who are you?”
Tilly barely had the strength in her legs to remain standing. JoAnn’s Mountie was so handsome her knees nearly gave out. Piercing blue eyes bore into her very soul, and she was sure he saw things she’d never shown anyone else. No wonder the others had been so excited for this adventure.
“I-I’m Tilly,” she said, her voice cracking on her own name. “Tilly Conway.”
His eyes grew wide, then a huge grin split his face in two. Tilly thought she could be happy for the rest of her life with a man who smiled like that. She hoped Nolan was as handsome as JoAnn’s Mountie.
When he dropped down on one knee, she thought for a moment he’d tripped, but then he beamed up at her, leaving her thoroughly puzzled.
“I’m Nolan Wheeler. Will you marry me?”
Chapter 3
A small bouquet of pale lavender asters jiggled in Tilly’s trembling hands as she stared up at Nolan, wondering whether she was excited or terrified. Probably both. The pastor was holding a Bible and saying something, but his words didn’t sink in. All she could focus on was Nolan’s sparkling blue eyes.
They were rimmed with thick, dark eyelashes so long they practically fanned her
every time he blinked. Fine wrinkles at the edges spoke of how often he smiled, which gave her hope that Miss Hazel was right and he liked to laugh. His lean, chiseled face was tanned from time spent outdoors, and his lips…Tilly blushed at the thought of kissing those perfect lips. He was every bit as lean as Miss Hazel had said, but he wasn’t skinny. Even under his red serge, his muscles proved he was a man who had known hard work.
Tilly still couldn’t quite believe everything was really happening, that she was marrying the handsome Mountie she’d thought was JoAnn’s. Any doubt about her decision to go west had vanished the moment he’d proposed. It was almost as if they’d been courting for months and he was really in love with her.
No, it was exactly like that. But how could it be? They’d never met, yet…
Tilly’s heart felt as if it might overflow with emotion as she strained to make sense of Pastor Wilson’s words. Pinpricks at the back of her eyes warned her tears would soon fall if she didn’t get control of herself so she did the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her life — she tore her gaze away from Nolan.
Miss Hazel sat next to Silas MacGruder in the front row of the tiny church, the two acting as witnesses to the wedding. Everyone, including Dr. Sturgis, had told Silas to stay in bed, but he’d taken a liking to Tilly and had insisted on attending. Apparently, Squirrel Ridge Junction didn’t have any wheelchairs, so two burly men from town carried him to the church, and Miss Hazel made a fuss about propping up his injured leg. Thankfully, the ceremony would be short, because he already looked far too pale for Tilly’s liking.
She tried to smile, but her lips quivered so much she was afraid it looked more like a grimace so she stopped. Miss Hazel gave her an encouraging smile and nod, and Silas simply grinned, a couple of big gaps showing how much he needed someone to care for him, at least a little.
To think that a few short weeks earlier, Tilly had thought her life was over. She’d become an outcast in the only home she’d ever known through no fault of her own. When Miss Hazel had suggested she join her little troupe of mail-order brides, Tilly had only accepted because she felt as if she had no other choice. The coin flip had really just been a way for her to take the responsibility of the decision off her own shoulders. Deep in her heart, she’d known she would accept from the moment Miss Hazel offered…but she’d never expected to be happy.
Standing in front of the most handsome man she’d ever seen and living in a town where she already had more friends than she’d ever had in Ottawa, she wondered if she’d been wrong. Was it possible she could actually be happy in this new life of hers? Sure, Squirrel Ridge Junction wasn’t quite what she was used to, but she felt certain she could adapt. She’d spend her days keeping a tidy home and cooking for her husband.
Is that enough?
Tilly had been used to having a job. Not just a job, but a career. It had always consumed her every waking moment, to the point she’d never had time to be courted. That had never really bothered her, though she’d always assumed she would marry and give up working to start a family.
It still hurt beyond measure that losing her career hadn’t been her own choice, but nothing could take away the joy she experienced while cooking — especially for large groups, some even larger than the entire population of Squirrel Ridge Junction. The challenge of choosing the exact right accompaniments to a particularly tricky dish always sent a surge of energy through her, as if she’d solved a difficult mathematics problem.
Though her days of cooking for a crowd might be over, she could still take pleasure in cooking for others. Silas would need her help for a couple of weeks and Nolan’s appetite was legendary. Plus, once she and Nolan were settled as a couple, she could always invite the other couples over for dinner parties.
The image of her and Nolan happily hosting a dinner party brought a flush of pleasure to her cheeks. He seemed so kind, and she was truly looking forward to getting to know him, but…
She would never erase the memory of her former employer sneaking up behind her, his hands groping her before she knew what was happening, the screech of his enraged wife, the feelings of shame and anger and humiliation. Just thinking about it turned her skin clammy and nearly made her shudder. Miss Hazel had told her that was all behind her now, that she would never have to think or speak of it again. Yet gazing up into Nolan’s open and trusting eyes, she wanted to tell him.
What if he thinks it was your fault?
The nagging voice which had plagued her since the incident came back louder than ever, reminding her that a Mountie would expect a wife of impeccable character. She knew her virtue and integrity were beyond reproach, but he’d only just met her. Telling him about the unfounded scandal might only plant seeds of distrust. But not telling him seemed like a lie of omission, despite Miss Hazel’s insistence she should simply forget it had ever happened.
She truly wished she could.
The pastor’s voice filtered into her consciousness at just the right moment. “Do you, Tilly Conway, take this man, Nolan Wheeler, a fine and upstanding member of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police, as your lawfully wedded husband—”
“I do!” she practically shouted, giddy and terrified and elated and anxious, all at the same time.
Pastor Wilson chuckled. “I wasn’t quite finished.”
Red-faced, Tilly waited until he’d stopped talking for several seconds before quietly saying, “I do.”
“Do you, Nolan Wheeler, take this woman, Tilly Conway, as your lawfully wedded wife—“
“I do!” Nolan shouted, winking at Tilly and making everyone laugh.
Miss Hazel hadn’t been fibbing. Nolan really was funny. She’d always imagined marrying a man with a good sense of humor, and now she’d gone and done it!
After the pastor pronounced them husband and wife, Nolan gazed down at her, mesmerizing her with eyes the color of sapphires. Cupping her face in two big hands, he lowered his head and just barely brushed his full, soft lips across hers. In the history of kisses, it had to have been the briefest, lightest one ever…but it still left her weak-kneed.
The anxiety she’d felt at his first touch melted away as Miss Hazel rushed up and hugged a still-wobbly Tilly fiercely to her bosom. “I’m so happy for you, dear. I know you’ll have a wonderful life with sweet Nolan.”
Then she turned to Tilly’s new husband. “I know you’ll take good care of her, Nolan, and I know she will make you happier than you ever dreamed.”
Nolan smiled at Miss Hazel, but he gaze slipped over to Tilly. “Thank you for…everything, Miss Hazel.”
Silas waved Tilly over for a hug, and he held her as if she was his own daughter. When she pulled back, she could have sworn she saw tears swimming in his eyes. Alarm shot through her.
“Silas, are you okay? Are you in pain?”
He sniffed and rubbed his shirt sleeve across his eyes. “Fine, fine. Just…allergies. And o’course I’m in pain. I was shot, dontchya know!”
Tilly kissed his cheek, and Nolan shook the older man’s hand. “Thank you for standing — well, sitting as a witness, Silas. I won’t feel I deserve such an honor until I capture Black Jack Bitters and justice is served.”
“Bah! You done what ya could, son. I were just a wee bit grouchy before. Tell you what. As a wedding present, I’m gonna give ya all the supplies you need for a well-stocked pantry. Won’t do to turn poor Tilly loose in a kitchen as poorly stocked as yours, Nolan Wheeler.”
Miss Hazel chuckled and shook her head. “You must be delirious with pain, Silas. That boy has a hollow leg.”
Tilly’s waist burned where Nolan wrapped his arm around her. “She’s not wrong,” he murmured into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “I have quite an appetite.”
Tilly snapped her gaze up at him, but she saw no avarice or innuendo in his smiling eyes, only happiness. As they stepped outside into the afternoon sun, that’s all Tilly felt.
Happiness.
Nolan and Tilly were left standing on the church s
teps as Miss Hazel enlisted two men passing by to carry ol’ Silas back to the mercantile. She followed along, clucking like a worried hen over his damaged leg, while Silas groused the entire way. Nolan doubted any romantic feelings existed between the two — Miss Hazel was simply motherly and bossy by nature.
The moose that had been spotted all over town sashayed down the middle of the street in the other direction, almost as if he’d been part of the wedding and was now on his way home. Nolan had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. Were those a woman’s delicates swinging from his antlers?
“Well,” Nolan finally said, turning away from the distraction of the moose and toward his new bride. “Should we get you settled into my…er, our cabin?”
Tilly looked up at him, chewing on the sweetest looking, rose-colored lower lip God had ever created. “Didn’t anyone tell you? That’s where I slept last night.”
Heat coursed through Nolan at the thought of a woman sleeping in his bed. No, not just any woman…Tilly. The connection he’d felt with her the moment she scolded Silas had only grown stronger the longer he knew her — which had been mere hours.
And it wasn’t just her looks that attracted him to her. Without knowing a soul in Squirrel Ridge Junction, Tilly had gone out of her way to care for a complete stranger — a stranger who liked her so much already, he’d left his sick bed to witness their marriage and offered to stock their pantry. No doubt about it, Tilly Conway…no, make that Tilly Wheeler…was a keeper.
Panic suddenly seized Nolan’s heart. He couldn’t help trying to remember the last time he’d washed his sheets. It had been far too long, as usual. He’d been planning to do the chore the day Silas had been shot.
“Oh, I’m so embarrassed,” he said. “I’d meant to clean up before you arrived, but we had to chase after Black Jack when he shot Silas.”
Tilly’s smile nearly knocked him to the ground. He’d never known he was partial to redheads until he’d laid eyes on her. And Miss Hazel hadn’t lied about her beautiful green eyes. He thought he’d be happy to stare into them all day long.
