Frontier Matchmaker Bride (Frontier Bachelors)

by Regina Scott

  Perhaps he didn’t. It wasn’t as if he was in love with her. The kiss had clearly been a mistake, and one he regretted. A shame she couldn’t find it in her heart to do the same.

  Her family certainly showed their support. Levi escorted her to the main clearing, where the horses and wagon waited. She had to admit to a tremor when she climbed up onto the bench, but James insisted on accompanying her in to town, and Simon and Drew assured her that the wagon was repaired. John had figured out a way to put a padlock on the hitch, so no one could tamper with it again.

  “And you and I have the only keys,” he promised her.

  They were all so encouraging she began to hope she might convince them of the plan she’d decided upon while she was recuperating. She’d prayed about it, thought about it and prayed some more. Yet her excitement only grew.

  It was daring. She’d be the first Wallin to live in town, the second to pursue a business of her own. And there was no guarantee she would succeed. But she was determined to try.

  She dropped James off at the Occidental, where they planned to spend the night, and promised to meet him for dinner at five.

  “And don’t buy out Kelloggs’ in the meantime,” he cautioned with a smile.

  She didn’t intend to. She wasn’t going to shop at all, but she wasn’t ready to explain to any of her brothers until she knew the plan was viable.

  Mr. Weinclef came out of Kelloggs’ to greet her when she pulled in. “It’s good to see you up and about, Miss Wallin. What can I get you today? We have some lovely new cambric.”

  Just the thing for summer! She could rework her blue dress, perhaps add some lace...

  Beth squared her shoulders. “No, thank you, Mr. Weinclef. I’m here on business. I’d like to speak to Mr. Kellogg and his brother, if I may.”

  The brothers who owned the store were delighted to meet with her, but they expressed skepticism about her idea.

  “A professional matchmaking service, out of Kelloggs’?” the older brother mused, stroking his clean-shaven chin. “I’m not sure how that benefits the store.”

  “It’s not like your sister-in-law’s sewing service, making use of our merchandise,” his younger brother agreed, blue eyes narrowing.

  “No, it’s much better,” Beth told them. “Gentlemen frequently need new clothes, accessories and toiletries before going courting. They spruce up their accommodations, requiring cleaning supplies, material for drapes, housewares. Once they wed, their loving wives will feel nothing but confidence in the store that brought them together. Where else would they shop forevermore?”

  The brothers exchanged glances.

  “Why not?” the elder asked. “We can give it a trial, say six months.”

  “A year,” Beth said. “Some courtships take longer than others. You should begin to see the full benefits by next Easter.”

  “A year then.” He stuck out his hand.

  “Actually,” Beth said, reaching into her reticule, “I thought you might prefer a written agreement, so I prepared one. Sign here, gentlemen.”

  * * *

  Beth couldn’t stop smiling as she exited the store a short time later. The first part of her plan had gone better than she’d hoped. She had a respectable location to conduct her business, with no need to rent a shop of her own. Now on to step two, finding a place to live. She had a little money put by for the first two months’ rent. She knew just the place.

  There, unfortunately, she was doomed to disappointment, for Mr. David Denny sadly reported that the charming house she’d seen with Hart had been purchased. He promised to let her know if anything else that met her needs became available. She would simply have to find another way for now.

  “Open the doors, Lord,” she murmured as she returned to Second Avenue.

  She had two more errands before she met James for dinner, and they were both likely to be difficult. She went to the Pastry Emporium and asked Aiden to bring Scout to her. She would have preferred to meet her friend in private, but she couldn’t take a chance now with her reputation, not when she was about to embark on a new business.

  “I’m so glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” Ciara told her while they waited. “You can be sure I’ll check our harness and tack before driving from now on.”

  “The worst thing was how everyone treated me,” Beth confided, “as if my capabilities had been knocked from my head in the fall.”

  “Ridiculous,” Ciara said with a sniff. “You’re the most capable woman I know.”

  Having been raised by Maddie Haggerty, her friend offered high praise indeed. “Thank you,” Beth said. “After I talk to Scout, may I beg a moment of your and Maddie’s time? I’d like to propose a business venture.”

  Ciara’s eyes lit. “Oh? What? Do you want to bake too?”

  “Not exactly,” Beth said. “I’m starting a matchmaking service, and I’d like to bring clients here to meet their prospective spouses, besides having the Emporium bake for the weddings.”

  Ciara was as excited as Beth could have hoped. She listened as Beth provided more details. Beth had just finished when Aiden returned with Scout.

  Ciara gave her hand a squeeze. “We’ll talk more later, but I think it’s a marvelous idea, and I’m certain Maddie will be happy to have the Emporium serve as a meeting place and baker to the bride.” She went back through the curtain to the kitchen.

  “What’s happened?” Scout asked as he sat at one of the little tables with Beth. With a thumbs-up to Beth, Aiden went to take Ciara’s place behind the counter.

  “Nothing of concern,” Beth assured him, clasping her hands on the tabletop. “I just wanted to apologize.”

  Scout’s eyes widened. “To me? For what?”

  “For not allowing you to pursue courting the way you wanted. I was argumentative and far too determined.”

  Scout grinned. “Same bossy Beth.”

  Beth raised her chin. “I prefer to think of it as taking care of my family.”

  His grin slipped. “Family. Now, that’s an honor.”

  “Well deserved,” she told him. “But I pressed my advantage, and it’s clear I made you uncomfortable. For that I am sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” Scout said. “And I hope you’ll wish me happy. I’m to be married.”

  Her smile froze. “Mrs. Jamison?”

  He nodded. “She’s everything I ever wanted, Beth. She listens to me, thinks of my needs before her own, has dreams big enough for the both of us. She wants to travel, to England, to France, and she makes me want to go with her. She’s so beautiful.”

  If Beth had seen all that in the seamstress, she might have thought better of this. “I’m very glad she makes you happy, Scout. But are you sure?”

  He shrugged, dropping his gaze, fingers rubbing at the top of the table. All at once he was the shy, lost boy she’d known.

  “As sure as anyone can be, I suppose,” he murmured. “And it’s too late now in any event. I proposed, she accepted. A gentleman does not cry off. Your father’s books taught me that.”

  For the first time, she wasn’t so sure about her father’s legacy. “If there is any doubt in your mind, Scout, about her feelings or your own, you must postpone the wedding. Marriage is for a lifetime.”

  He raised his gaze to meet hers. “I think I could be very happy with Evangeline for a lifetime. My doubts come from a different direction. Can she be happy with me?”

  Beth reached out and took his hands. “Oh, Scout, any woman would be proud to have a husband like you. I hope Mrs. Jamison knows how blessed she is.”

  He demurred, and they spoke of other things for a time. After she had sent him on his way, she sat for a moment, thinking.

  Lord, I’m trying not to run ahead of Your plans. I’m trying to listen for Your voice. I’m trying to be a good friend. But something tells me this marriage is wrong. Is that You leading, or my own prejudices getting in the way?

  Before when she’d asked for guidance she’d felt a peace. This time, urgency
poked at her shoulder blades. She had to be sure. Scout had to be sure. She rose and moved to the counter. Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for Aiden frowned.

  “What’s happened?”

  Beth drew in a breath. “Something I need to attend to. I’ll just let Ciara know.” She slipped behind the counter and poked her head through the curtain into the kitchen.

  Ciara hurried to meet her.

  “We’ll have to talk another time,” Beth told her. “I must find Deputy McCormick. It’s a matter of life or marriage.”

  * * *

  Hart had already spotted Lance and Percy outside the Pastry Emporium. He’d ridden by twice before he sighted Beth leaving. Something inside him tightened as she went to retrieve the reins. Why did that blue dress make her look soft, vulnerable? Even the feathered hat on her curls looked insubstantial. She was still the prettiest lady in Seattle.

  He couldn’t believe her family had encouraged him to marry her. Her brothers seemed determined to hear of a proposal. Her sisters-in-law were equally determined to help Hart craft one. All had had numerous suggestions as to what he should do to bring Beth to the altar.

  As if she was the one who had to be convinced.

  Then again, maybe she did. He’d already refused her. Who could blame her if she didn’t want to try again?

  He was talking himself into approaching her when she turned and saw him. Her smile brightened the day. Arno veered in her direction.

  “You too?” Hart murmured.

  “I was just coming to find you,” Beth said, putting out a hand to stroke Arno’s nose. “I need your help.”

  Hart stiffened in the saddle. “What’s happened?”

  “I don’t much like that question,” Beth said, dropping her hand and setting Arno to bobbing his head in protest. “Everyone keeps asking it as if something must be wrong because I want to speak to them.”

  Hart forced himself to relax. “Sorry. How can I help you, Miss Wallin?”

  She glanced in both directions, then frowned at him. “Have I offended you, Hart?”

  “No.”

  “Then why the formality? No one is near enough to question the use of my first name.”

  Even if using her last name made him more comfortable. “What do you need?”

  “It’s Scout,” she said. “He’s going to marry Mrs. Jamison.”

  And she wasn’t pleased about it. “I thought we agreed it was his choice.”

  She sighed. “We did. And he’s so happy. But Hart, would it be possible to check with San Francisco again, just in case?”

  “They never answered the first time,” he pointed out. “But I can try.”

  She sagged. “Oh, thank you. I knew I didn’t have to investigate the matter myself. I trust you.”

  For some reason, his chest swelled.

  She untied the reins from the hitching post. “I should be going. I have a lot to do.”

  “Like always,” he said with a smile.

  She returned his smile. “Even more than usual. I’ll tell you all about it when I come back to town on Monday. Perhaps we can meet here.”

  He cocked his head. “Is that an invitation?”

  She grinned. “Absolutely. And don’t you dare accept anyone else’s.”

  He touched his hat. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She clucked to the horses and set off. Hart watched her as she drove around the corner. Somehow he thought the sight of her would never grow old. But did it follow he should offer marriage? Just because he loved her didn’t mean she returned his love. Deep in thought, he turned Arno and headed for the telegraph office.

  “Wondered when you would turn up,” the operator said. He dug under the desk and retrieved a telegram.

  “How long have you had this?” Hart demanded, staring down at the block lettering.

  “Since the day after you sent the original. I asked Bobby Donovan to tell you. He’s been helping me run telegrams around town.”

  “I guess he never caught up with me.” At least, not to deliver the message. One look at the short note from the San Francisco law officer, and he thought he knew why Bobby had balked if he had suspected the contents.

  Jamison likely Jasson. Third husband murdered? Wanted for questioning. Detain and contact us.

  Normally, such a request would have sent Hart after the person, who would be sitting in the county jail by nightfall. But this wasn’t a common thief or brawling logger. This was a lady, a business owner, respected, engaged to be married to a friend. Scout wasn’t likely to take kindly to the fact that his sweetheart was wanted for questioning. Until Hart had more proof, he wasn’t about to lock her up. Besides, at the moment, he was more interested in knowing why Bobby hadn’t told him about the telegram. Was he only protecting his sister? Or did his refusal stem from something more?

  He thanked the telegraph operator, mounted Arno and rode up to the North School.

  The new teacher, Miss Jenkins, beamed at the sight of him. Beth’s campaign to make him attractive to the local ladies had obviously worked on this one, for she smoothed down her hair and fluttered her lashes as he asked her some questions.

  “Robert Donovan?” She cocked her head. “Why, no, Deputy. We have no student by that name. But if you’d meet me at the Pastry Emporium later, I’m sure we could discuss it further.”

  “No time, ma’am,” he told her, turning Arno. “But thank you for the kindness.”

  He thought he heard her sigh as he rode away.

  So, Bobby hadn’t started school after Easter as his sister had said. It was possible she’d decided to hire him a tutor instead, someone who could keep him current on his lessons while he worked. But why work at all? Were the pair so low on funds?

  He did a sweep of the town, but caught no sign of the boy, his sister or Beth. He’d only looked for the last to be certain she wasn’t investigating after all. Despite her declaration of faith in him, he found it hard to believe she’d simply step aside. Still, the fact that she had relinquished her search in favor of him only made him more determined to get to the bottom of things.

  He hitched Arno down the street from the seamstress’s shop and approached the door. It was locked, the window shade down, but he thought he saw a flicker of shadow behind it. Someone was inside.

  He pounded on the door. “Open up. It’s Deputy McCormick.”

  A moment later, the door cracked open, showing a slim slice of Mrs. Jamison. The crimson dress with its high neck and long sleeves might have graced the finest ladies in any town. A gold watch glimmered on a chain around her neck.

  “Deputy, you startled me,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “I’m afraid now isn’t a good time for you to come in. I’m doing inventory, and there are unmentionables everywhere.”

  He hadn’t known she stocked ladies’ underthings, but he certainly didn’t want to question her standing next to them. “This will only take a moment, ma’am. It’s about Bobby.”

  “Bobby?” She frowned, then a concerned look slid into place on her lovely face. “Oh, Deputy McCormick, please tell me he hasn’t been on the docks again.”

  “Not the docks,” he said. “Not in school either.”

  She gasped. “Oh, you must find him. Give me a moment, and I’ll come with you.”

  The door closed. Shadows passed the shade again, but before he could try the door, she was back, coat draped about her. She locked the door behind her.

  “Now, then,” she said with a brave smile, “let’s find that naughty brother of mine.” She took his arm and led him away. Hart glanced back in time to see a hand push the shade into place.

  Who else was in there with her? Scout, helping his sweetheart with her work? Why not admit it? Bobby? Why claim he was elsewhere? He would have given a great deal to see what was happening inside that shop, but he didn’t have a warrant. He’d have to play it her way.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Hart asked as they moved down the street.

  “This morning, w
hen I thought he was on the way to school. It’s the company he keeps, Deputy. That awful O’Rourke boy and his sister.”

  Hart fought to maintain a civil tone. “They were both working at the Pastry Emporium this afternoon. Where would your brother have gone?”

  She waved a hand. “Who knows how these children think?”

  He was more interested in what she thought. “You must have some idea. He is your brother, after all.”

  “And a burden since the day he was born.” She must have realized how hard she sounded, for she turned to him with a coy smile. “Forgive me, Deputy. It’s so difficult raising a boy alone. And I’m so new to Seattle that I wouldn’t know where to suggest we look for him.” She put a hand on his arm and leaned closer, her frame brushing his. “I rely on you to guide me.”

  For someone engaged, she was rather forward. And for someone determined to find her brother, she wasn’t much help. But perhaps that was the idea. Perhaps she didn’t want him to find Bobby. She wanted him away from the shop.

  Hart took her elbow. “Then allow me to do the guiding. I have a hunch we’ll find Bobby right where you least expect him, hiding in your shop.”

  “What?” She dragged her feet as he drew her back toward the door. “No, Deputy. You’re mistaken. I’d know if Bobby was hiding so close.”

  “Let’s find out.” He strode up to the door and looked expectantly at her.

  She raised her chin and her voice at the same time, as if making sure anyone near heard her. “This is silly, Deputy. I’d much rather walk up to the school and ask where Bobby has gone. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding.”

  He held out his hand. “Key.”

  She patted her coat pocket. “Now, where did I... I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”

  “Key,” Hart demanded.

  She jumped, then yanked it out of her pocket and dropped it into his hand. “Fine. See for yourself. Bobby isn’t anywhere near here.”

  But someone was. He heard the motion just as he opened the door. He had a brief glimpse of broadcloth, a flash of metal, and something collided with his skull.