by Faye Sonja
He’d been trying to find someone to clean, but it was just on Sundays and it wasn’t enough money to survive on. So far he’d been doing most of it himself. He simply couldn’t afford to employ anyone full time yet, but he needed about three others with the workload he had.
If only Barnaby’s supposed bride knew her way around what it took to run a tavern bar. He’d marry her on the spot. It wasn’t like he’d ever have time to find himself a wife with how busy he was, and every eligible woman he knew was taken.
Maybe even if she could cook. He wanted this tavern to be respectable and though he’d have entertainment, it wouldn’t be anything to do with immoral or illegal doings.
He’d dreamed of a place people could go and hear beautiful music, poems being recited, even some short theatre performances. No gambling. No working ladies. No raucous behaviour. Brendan rode hard towards town. He knew he had his work cut out for him running a place like that, even his mother said he did, but that wouldn’t stop him trying to keep his establishment clean and honest.
He wanted a place where decent and respectable people could come for a meal and a drink without fear. Yes, this was the Wild West and, yes, it was a frontier town, but it wouldn’t always be that way. Brendan knew once the railroads came, Black Creek would become a popular holiday destination and also a place in which industry would boom.
Brendan wanted to be ahead of the game and be ready. But right now he doubted he’d be anywhere near ready. He needed help so badly. Badly enough to consider marriage to a total stranger if she had the skills he needed and he sensed in her a moral standing to match his own.
He thought that fair because if they were married and she worked the business equally hard, then she should be entitled to her share of the business. They’d be business partners joined by a marriage certificate. But he’d also like them to be friends and confidantes later.
Listen to him dreaming about a bride to do all this work and be what he needed. Was he wanting a wife or a slave? He was getting as crackpot as his brother with his crazy schemes. The young lady in question might be disgusted at his ideas. But he supposed all he could do was ask her.
After a full hour on the dusty road, Brendan stopped his horse outside the stagecoach building. The coach was still around the back and the horses were eating hay in the yard provided for them. So even if she were going back, they hadn’t left yet. His Ma would likely know something; she had quite a talent for finding out things.
She’d be so angry with Barnaby. In fact, the lady may’ve gone over to the teahouse. The coach driver, Sid, was known to not miss out on his tea and scones, so he’d be able to tell Brendan if he knew anything of the lady.
* * *
“Never mind, Lass. Come sit behind the desk here. I’ll get you a cup of tea and you dry your tears.” Mrs. Maggie coaxed Emma around behind the desk and sat her down in a padded armchair. “I feel awful for ya, girl. I’ve got two sons. One is like a gift from God and the other, well, let’s say he has too much of his Pa’s ways about him.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m the fool who came here to marry a stranger.”
“From what I hear, there’s a lot of it done in these parts and this is the first one I’ve heard of going wrong. Just unlucky. Now if you’d been writing my younger son, Brendan. There’d be no problem. But he’s no time to write…” Mrs. Maggie looked as if an idea had just jumped up and hit her on the head. “Now, there’s a thought.”
She patted Emma on the shoulder. “I’ll go order some tea. You just sit here and try to dry those tears. We’ll find a solution, and believe me, I may be Barnaby’s mother, but him already being married has made this your lucky day. I’m not sure what his game is, but you’d have been miserable. Thank the Lord for saving you from that one.” She bustled off along the corridor.
Emma had never heard a mother speak that way about her own son. She wasn’t really sure what to think now, or what she should do. Maybe she had time to get to Ada’s place and let them know her plans had changed. It wasn’t like she could just pluck another husband off the street. She’d failed at the mail order bride attempt despite all the support and help in the world from Miss Kitty.
Sometimes things just weren’t meant to be, and her being married was likely one of those. Then with her background and the fact that she wasn’t a classic beauty, or even slightly pretty, lessened her chances at love. She’d given up on love; if she married it would be because of a mutually beneficial situation.
Even that was tricky because she had no particular skill, she wasn’t an expert in any area, and she had no way to make her mark on the world. She’d hoped being a useful wife, whose husband was fond of her, might have given her the confidence to discover what it was she really wanted in life.
Right now, all she really wanted was to not fail Ada and Anna again. To not have to be taken care of by them. There must be work here in Black Creek. She was adequate at cooking, cleaning, sewing, and organizing time schedules. She’d learned a variety of things, it was just that she never excelled in any one area and she wanted to be talented at something.
She’d hoped being a wife and part of a smaller community would be a part of that. Now she had to decide if she was going to stay on here, or if she should simply go with Ada and settle in Brookstown.
Mrs. Maggie came back with a tray with tea for two and some scones and jam. “Here, lass. A strong cup of tea will sort you out. I’ve had your trunks taken to your room. I’m happy to let you stay tonight at no charge to make up for my son’s shortcomings.”
“No. I’ve money to pay. I’m neither destitute or desperate. I’d prefer to pay my way. Your kindness is more than enough to make up for Barnaby’s lack of it, Mrs. Maggie.”
‘I see you’ve some constitution about you. That’ll put you in good stead here on the frontier. What is it you wish to do with your life, Emma? Just call me Maggie, dear.” She poured very black tea into a china teacup adorned with red roses.
“I’ve always been taken care of by my foster sisters, and I’ve been in more than one pickle in my time. Now, I’d like to be independent and not have to call on them for assistance anymore.”
“I see. What is it you do?”
“I don’t know. My eldest sister Ada, she’s a designer and dressmaker and Anna, is a teacher changing the way children learn. The best I can do is balance books, cook food and clean things to within an inch of their lives. Just ordinary things. I have no special talents. Nothing to make a difference in the world.”
“Nonsense. You just haven’t found it yet. The Lord has something for all of us. Some just take longer to bear fruit.”
“I hope you’re right, Maggie. I’m nineteen and I think I’ll end up an old maid.”
Maggie let go a loud, rolling laugh. “I’m sure you won’t.”
“Perhaps if I had beauty, or a shapely figure on my side…”
“Beauty comes from the inside. What you need is a positive attitude and genuine smile. You’ll see things change after that. Drink your tea. There’s sugar and cream if you like.” Maggie smiled and patted Emma’s hand.
Emma smiled. It was hard not to feel jolly with Maggie around. She was a buxom lady with huge green eyes and flame-red hair. Emma added some sugar and a little cream to her tea and stirred. The scones looked lovely and smelled even better. Emma was quite hungry.
“Staring at them won’t fill your belly. Eat up.” Maggie slathered the scone halves with butter and jam and handed Emma a plate with two halves. “Otherwise I’ll eat them all and these stays are tight enough around me as it is.” Maggie gave another laugh and bit into her own scone.
“Thank you. I’m very hungry.” The scones tasted like nothing she’d ever had. Even in the bakery when she’d worked in there with Ada and Anna, the scones were never so good. Emma chewed and swallowed her large bite. “Mmmm. These are delicious.” She took another big bite and could feel a dob of butter and jam stuck to her cheek.
The bell above the front door
clanged and in mid-chew Emma looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps into the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d seen on any man. His blonde hair had waves at the front and he stared at her. Emma knew she had food stuck to her face and half a mouthful but she could do nothing but stare at this most handsome young man.
“Ah, Emma. Meet my youngest son, and saving grace, Brendan Radcliffe. Brendan, this is Emma Bartholomew from Salt Lake City, here to marry your scoundrel of a brother tomorrow. But, lucky for her, he’s married already.”
“I came as soon as he told me. I have a solution, I think. Miss Bartholomew. I wondered if you’d marry me instead?”
* * *
3
Solutions
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“No… My son won’t be here to meet you,
as he was married on Sunday just passed.”
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Emma opened her eyes wide and just at that second she breathed in some flour or something and had to cough uncontrollably. She grabbed a napkin and looked at Maggie, who had a huge grin on her face. Surely she couldn’t think it good her most handsome son wanted to marry Emma without even knowing her?
She wiped her mouth, finished coughing and took a much needed sip of tea. “I…I beg your pardon?”
“It was something Barnaby said. I was thinking on the way in. I don’t have enough hours in the day to do what needs to be done. I need a partner, so I thought I’d offer you the position, sealed by a marriage certificate. If you wanted to stay.”
Emma couldn’t believe her ears. This man, who was surely the most handsome she’d ever seen, and could likely marry the prettiest woman in the world, wanted to marry her.
“I have a business, and if you can cook, clean, and do the accounts, or any one of those things, it’d be perfect.”
“Emma was just saying how she did all three of those things very well. It’s a perfect match.” Maggie grinned. “I told you Brendan was the opposite to Barnaby. So we’ll have a wedding after-all.”
“I…I…ah…” Emma could not think of one reason why she couldn’t, except that she knew it couldn’t last. He’d find a beauty he deserved to be with one day and fall head over heels in love.
“You’d own half of the business and should the time come you want to leave, I’ll be sure to do it fairly.” Brendan’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Please say you will, Emma. I promise I’ll be the best husband you could ever want. I don’t have time to write to anyone, and I need help.”
“This is rather impulsive, Mr. Radcliffe.” Emma finally found her voice. “I’m not sure if it’s wise.”
“No one cares about wise out here, Miss Bartholomew. You have to be opportunistic and take every chance that comes your way. We can get married tomorrow as planned, unless you want to wait.” Brendan grinned at her and made her stomach flutter.
Emma thought hard. Her sisters were coming here. This means it’d all still happen as arranged and Emma wouldn’t be running back to them for help. It was a little unorthodox, but why stand on ceremony? “Are you sure, Mr. Radcliffe? It’s a very generous offer.”
“It gives me a chance to atone for the all the things he’s done that I couldn’t change.”
“Surely this isn’t your responsibility.” Emma couldn’t believe this decent a man actually existed on earth.
“Perhaps not, but I know I’ll have a clear conscience. I like to sleep easy at night, and if I sent you away, I wouldn’t sleep well.” His eyes shone and something about the way he looked at her made Emma want to throw caution to the wind. She really couldn’t be any worse off. No one had ever made her feel quite so reckless.
“Come on, Love. I can assure you, you’ll be taken care of and treated fairly. I can see this would work well for you both.” Maggie urged her with a soft voice. “Please, Emma. I’d be grateful he’s with a genuine girl and one I can get along with.”
Emma looked between them both more than once and closed her eyes to say a silent prayer.
Dear Lord. I haven’t asked for much in a long time. I’m not sure I even deserve to be happy after lying in court but if you forgive me and this is what you’ve intended for me, show me a sign. Amen.
Slowly Emma let her eyes come open and the first thing she focused on was a hand-painted plaque on the wall. It held the brightest of yellow rose buds and blooms. It was painted so well, Emma felt like she could pick one of the flowers. The words Trust In Him and hands in prayer formation gave her the boost she needed.
“Alright, Mr. Radcliffe. You have yourself a deal. I do have money, so I’m not doing this because I’m destitute. My sisters will be arriving here in the morning to attend to me for my wedding. Will that be fine by you?”
Maggie cheered and clapped her hands.
“I think you can call me Brendan. I’ll let the preacher know and if Ma can be of assistance, then please let her help. As for me, I’m happy with it being however you want. I’ll organize an afternoon tea and invite guests.”
“That sounds lovely, Brendan.” Her face was heated as she said his name. It was clear it was a business arrangement for him and a way to rest easy with his brother’s wrongdoing. There’s no other reason a man as handsome as Brendan Radcliffe would be marrying a lady as homely as she was.
“Would you please join me for dinner this evening? I’d like to get to know you a little.”
“Yes, of course.” It would likely be at the family home, with a chaperone of Maggie, and out of the prying eyes of others.
“I’ll call for you at eight this evening. Good day, Miss Bartholomew.”
“Call me Emma, please.”
His smile would light up a million dark rooms. “Emma.” Then he was out the door and gone.
* * *
Brendan stopped and took a breath once he got across the street. Emma was not the woman he was expecting at all. He could see why his brother hadn’t been taken with her looks. She wasn’t anywhere near flamboyant enough for Barnaby, which made her perfect for Brendan.
But there was something about Emma Bartholomew that Brendan liked a lot. She was natural, real, and he could tell she wasn’t out for what she could get. He’d had women express their attraction to him in suggestive ways. But he didn’t want that, he wanted a strong woman and he’d always had faith that God had made him a perfect mate.
Now he was certain by her soft brown eyes and way her brow creased as she considered everything carefully, that Emma had been meant to come here and be married, just not to Barnaby. She’d seen something of life, even for her young age. He could tell. Something was behind her eyes that he recognized as the lost soul he’d once been at the cruel hands of his father.
Until his Ma found out, and put her husband in his grave to protect her son. That was the story they stuck to. The truth haunted him night and day, and now he was on a mission to cleanse himself in the eyes of God. His scarred body may not be flawless, but his faith and hope for the future was.
He wanted ordinary, he wanted normal, he wanted to feel cared about by someone other than his Ma for who he was and not because anyone felt pity for him, or because they thought he was handsome, or because he was a very successful businessman. Just because he made them laugh, or they liked their tea the same way, or because their idea of relaxation was being surrounded by classic books in the library.
A lady who suited him, down-to-earth, normal, hardworking, and not afraid to stand up for herself. He’d a feeling Emma might be such a woman, and he quietly hoped she’d be the one he could eventually reveal his terrible secrets to and share his burden with, and she’d think no less of him because of it.
He also had a gut feeling she might have some secrets of her own she could do with unburdening, and in time he hoped he’d convince her to do so. But for now, he’d let it build slowly and properly. He wasn’t ready for a woman in his bed for physical reasons; he wondered if he’d ever be able to let anyone
look upon him in that way.
But he was ready to give himself and this marriage every chance to be long and happy. It was fated. Emma was a gift brought to him by the Lord and Brendan wouldn’t squander the opportunity. He’d take her out to supper tonight and be so proud of his fiancée. He’d tell her of his business and how he dreamed the tavern could be.
He wanted no part in the awful ways of the saloons that employed ladies to entertain men and draw them in to spend their money on drinks and gambling, as well as other things. This was the frontier and a place where it was almost expected to be wild, and unchecked.
Indeed, almost every saloon he knew of was for men to come and drink as much alcohol as possible, gamble and fight. That included Barnaby’s.
Brendan wanted his tavern to be a place where men could relax in the bar, not overindulge in drink, but could catch up with the news, discuss business deals, and have a meal while feeling safe. He’d have piano players, maybe even some dancing girls, but prostitution was strictly forbidden.
If he found out any of his well-paid staff were entering into illegal practices, then he’d no longer employ them. He had a billiard table, card tables, and a few other minor gambling games, but they must be played by the rules and without drama. Families could come and enjoy meals in the family room and accommodation would soon be available.
His tavern was not his brother’s saloon, and never would be. Brendan would not allow anything immoral or that went against his Christian beliefs to be associated with the tavern. He was out to prove to his brother that cheats weren’t the only ones who prospered.
With the help of Emma, he would prove that to the whole town and he’d redeem himself in the eyes of God and in his own eyes. He hated that he looked just like his father. His Pa had the looks that made people stop and look twice, even men. But inside, his Pa had the thick oil of evil pumping through his veins.
