Frontier Matchmaker Bride (Frontier Bachelors)

by Regina Scott

  Beth was rather pleased with how the whole situation had turned out. Hart was free and apparently uninjured. She had escaped with only a scratch on her neck that would require her to wear an unfashionable ruff for a while, but sacrifices must be made. She thought she might hear a job well done from Hart as she handed Mrs. Jamison to him and retrieved the hatpin.

  Instead, he pinioned the seamstress’s arms to her sides and leaned around her to gaze at Beth, eyes hard. “There are two more of them who have been hiding out here. We need to find them and Bobby Donovan.” He turned to her brother. “Normally the sheriff would do this, but there’s no time. James Wallin, I hereby deputize you to serve the citizens of King County and uphold the laws of Washington Territory and these United States.”

  James blinked. “I’m honored, Deputy, but...”

  Mrs. Jamison wiggled in Hart’s grip. “This is ridiculous. I demand an attorney.”

  Hart ignored her. “James, take Mrs. Jamison to the office and send word to Sheriff Wyckoff to lock her up on charges of kidnapping and assault. Tell him there may be other charges as well after we contact the sheriff in San Francisco.”

  “A lady has a right to protect her property, her person,” Mrs. Jamison protested as James took charge of her.

  “Not at the expense of other people’s lives and property,” Beth told her.

  The woman was still sputtering and dragging her feet as James muscled her out of the shop.

  The moment he was through the door, Hart surged forward and wrapped Beth in his arms. Startled, she couldn’t move as his mouth descended on hers. Then she found it hard to even think. She’d never imagined a kiss could feel so urgent. She leaned in, gave as she was given, delight bubbling up inside her.

  He pulled away all too soon. “Stay here. I’ll come for you when it’s safe.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Beth said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and trying to gather her composure while her blood still sang. “I have no intention of waiting here while you face all the danger.”

  “Beth.”

  Oh, how she loved that growl. “Think, Hart. Wherever these men are, you said this was their hideout. They’re just as likely to return here as anywhere else in Seattle. I’d rather not meet them alone, even with a hatpin for defense.”

  He took her arm and pulled her from the shop.

  “If you would listen,” she said as he all but dragged her down the block, “I’m sure Aiden and Ciara would be happy to help us search. Clay and Allegra too, for that matter. And as soon as Sheriff Wyckoff locks up Mrs. Jamison, he and James will be available.”

  Some of the fire went out of him. “At least you didn’t come alone this time.”

  “I’m not daft, you know. I do realize the danger.”

  “Do you?” He stopped and glared at her. “Mrs. Jamison is wanted for questioning about the death of her husband in San Francisco. She may well have murdered him and two others.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I’m quite glad to have my suspicions confirmed. Well, not glad, precisely, but vindicated. Who are her accomplices?”

  He started walking again, as if he had to do something to relieve his tension. “Unless I miss my guess, they’re the gang I’ve been trying to catch.”

  Now Beth stopped. “Really? Mrs. Jamison was behind the robberies and beatings as well?”

  His breath was coming fast. “Now do you see why I’m worried about you? If anything had happened to you, Beth...”

  She put a hand on his arm. “It didn’t. I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, my brothers would never blame you. They know how I am.”

  “I wasn’t worried about how your brothers would react,” he said, eyes haunted. “I was worried about you. When I think of you hurt, my body tightens into a knot, and I’m no good for anything.”

  Before the words could sink in, he grabbed her arm and pulled her forward again. “We don’t have time to talk now. Come on.”

  He kept going at such a pace that conversation and even breaths became difficult. Yet she couldn’t forget his words. He had been frightened for her, to the point of pain. He’d kissed her as if his very life depended on it. If she’d read of such a situation in a book, she’d have said the hero felt deep love for the lady in question.

  Had she won his heart at last?

  * * *

  Hart felt as if his body was encased in steel. No time to talk, no luxury to feel. He had to catch the rest of the Jamison gang. Beth’s and Bobby’s lives could be in danger otherwise.

  And yet he could not forget how she had bested the seamstress. She had been fearless, clever and determined. She hadn’t just reacted. She’d planned, chosen her movements with precision. Perhaps, like her family, he would always want to protect her, but he had to own she could take care of herself.

  “I never saw her accomplices,” Hart told her now as they approached the sheriff’s office. “But they must still be in the area. Bobby helped me escape. He was scared of being caught.”

  She beamed at him. “I’m so glad to hear Bobby didn’t go along willingly. I imagine his sister bullied him into helping. So, what’s our plan?”

  He started to protest that she could have no part in this, then forced himself to stop. After all she’d done, she had every right to see this through. “I’ll work with the sheriff to deputize more men. We’ll search the town, then spread out around the area.”

  “No one’s admitted to seeing them before,” she pointed out. “But perhaps having additional people searching will help. At least we can cover more ground than just you and the sheriff. A shame we don’t have more information.”

  Hart eyed her. “Would you talk to Mrs. Jamison? I have a feeling she’ll tell you the truth sooner than she’d tell me. What you learn could well turn the tide in our favor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “She’ll no doubt have a wealth of information, and I’m sure I can extract it from her, but don’t think I’m unaware of what you’re doing.”

  He made his eyes as wide as possible. “Me?”

  The sound of her laughter eased his tight muscles. “You want me out of the way. I’ll go, but only because it might do some good and give you some peace.” Stopping him short of the office door, she stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then she hurried inside.

  * * *

  It was nearly midnight before they caught the pair. In the meantime, Beth collected quite a story from Mrs. Jamison, who was no doubt attempting to build a case that would prove her an unwilling dupe.

  “You have no idea of the pressure I was under,” Hart heard her lament to Beth as he loaded a shotgun. “A widow alone, with a child to consider. Of course I cooperated with anything they demanded. I was afraid to refuse.”

  Hart very much doubted that.

  At least Beth was able to get her to confirm that the two men who had robbed and beaten the newcomers were still in Seattle waiting until she had won more money from Scout to make their escape. She seemed to think they had gone hunting.

  “Though she’s rather vague about how much money she expected and when,” Beth told him before he and the sheriff headed out. “I’m not sure poor Scout was supposed to survive his wedding night.”

  Her look to the jail cell hinted of her anger, but she schooled her face and returned to her questioning. For a moment, he almost pitied Mrs. Jamison.

  While some deputized townsmen scoured the city, James, Sheriff Wyckoff and Hart waited at the shop. He was only glad that silence was necessary. He wasn’t willing to answer the questions he saw in James’s eyes. Beth’s brother had to have noticed the way Hart had reacted to the danger facing Beth, heard the tremor in his voice. If the Wallin brothers had wondered how Hart truly felt about their sister, there could be no doubt now.

  Hart certainly had no doubt. His only question was how he could go about proving his love to Beth.

  He heard the snick of the lock a moment before the rear door of the shop opened. Finally, his quarry! They
were as Schneider had described, as tough a pair of customers as Bobby had intimated. They shambled into the shop, gazes wary. One shut the door behind them.

  Sheriff Wyckoff rose from behind a crate and leveled his rifle. “Stop right there. Lay down your weapons and put up your hands. You’re under arrest.”

  Hart thought they’d run for it or shoot it out, but they exchanged glances, and the taller made a dive for the sheriff. The next few minutes was nothing but flying fists and grappling men. In the end, Hart and the others triumphed with no more to show than some bruised knuckles.

  “Well done, Deputy,” James said, clapping Hart on the shoulder as the sheriff locked up the men. “You survived a vicious gang and my sister. Few men can make that claim.”

  Beth shook her head, then stifled a yawn. “Mrs. Jamison still maintains she loves Scout and wants to marry him. I don’t believe her.”

  James took a step back. “What? My sister, the matchmaker, the romantic?”

  She cast Hart a quick glance. “I will probably always be a romantic, James, but I’m not so naive to believe every story told me. Mrs. Jamison had the opportunity when she was with Scout to confess, to ask for help. She could even have told Hart the truth, assisted him in catching her confederates. She did nothing but aid their schemes, each step of the way. And don’t get me started on what she claims happened to her husbands. Three accidents? Unlikely.”

  She turned to Sheriff Wyckoff. “What news of Bobby Donovan? As far as I can tell, he’s another victim in all this, forced to do as his sister said.”

  “No sign of him,” the sheriff reported, pocketing the key to the cells. “We’ll keep looking tomorrow.”

  Beth nodded. There was so much Hart wanted to say to her, but the crowded office wasn’t the place or time. She’d once braved censure to tell him how she felt. If he was going to convince her of his feelings, he needed something grander, more eloquent than a simple acknowledgment. For now, he merely tipped his hat as James led her out to return to the hotel.

  Though morning was only a few hours away, it seemed a long time coming. His mind kept turning over plans, thinking through options. Beth deserved the best, something spectacular, something that would appeal to her heart. James had called her a romantic. Hart had never considered himself such. He’d need help, and he’d have to swallow his pride to ask, but the chance that she’d agree was worth any trouble.

  He rose early, walked down to the Occidental. He wanted to thank James again for his help, but he knew the effort was more about seeing Beth. She’d found a way past his defenses, reached the heart he’d kept guarded for so long. He was ready to admit defeat and win the prize. But he had a few things to take care of first.

  “Any news about Bobby?” she asked after he’d greeted her and her brother outside the hotel. James had Lance and Percy already in harness, ready to return to Wallin Landing.

  “Not yet,” Hart told her. “He may be afraid to come out of hiding. He knows he’s been an accessory to a crime at the least. When I think back, I can see a few times he tried to get my attention. He was just too frightened of his sister to do more.”

  “The jury should take that into account,” Beth said.

  “In the meantime, the sheriff will be busy lining up witnesses to the gang’s crimes. Now that the victims understand the law didn’t condone the violence, they’ll be more likely to come forward.”

  “There’s just one last person to notify, then,” Beth murmured, slumping. “Will you come with me, Hart, when I tell Scout?”

  They found him at home in the big house he’d purchased. Their voices echoed in the entry as he showed them in. Before Beth could tell him about Mrs. Jamison, he held up a hand.

  “It’s all right, Beth. I know. Bobby came to see me last night. It seems you were right. Evangeline never cared for me, only my money.”

  The words fell from his lips like deadwood. He looked nearly spent. Hart wasn’t sure what to say, but Beth threw her arms around Scout and hugged him close.

  “She doesn’t deserve you,” she told him. “The woman you thought you knew was a fiction. We’ll find you someone better, someone real.” She drew back with a watery smile. “I’ve decided to make matchmaking my vocation, and you’ll be my first client, no charge.”

  Scout chuckled. “Might be hard to run a business if you don’t charge your clients.”

  Beth waved a hand. “We’ll work all that out later. In the meantime, do you know where Bobby went?”

  Scout jerked his head toward the stairs. “He’s staying with me. I thought he’d be safer. I was going to come down to the sheriff’s office this morning and let you know, Deputy.”

  “You’re a good man, Rankin,” Hart said.

  Scout seemed to stand a little taller. “You too, Deputy. Go easy on him. He’s been through a lot.”

  “I’ll talk to the sheriff. For now, let him know not to leave town but that we’re on his side.”

  And then Beth had hugged him. He willed himself not to react the way he wanted in front of Scout. He didn’t have the right, not yet. But soon.

  Please, Lord!

  She bustled along at her usual pace as Hart escorted her back to the hotel.

  “You see what I mean about a lady being just as capable as a gentleman?” she asked with a sidelong look his way.

  “You got the advantage over her,” Hart admitted.

  There was a decided wiggle in her walk, as if she was well pleased with herself. “Thank you, but that wasn’t what I meant. All this time, we’ve been looking for men, when the person in charge was a woman.”

  She almost sounded admiring. “I won’t argue that Mrs. Jamison was as coldhearted a villain as one could ask. I hope you don’t plan to take her example.”

  Beth snorted. “Certainly not. Oh, I understand the allure of fine clothes, pretty things. It seems she wanted the best. To dress well, eat well, move in the finest circles, travel. I think she must have been raised in a rough environment, which is probably where she met her henchmen. Her first husband wasn’t as rich as she’d been led to believe, so she used her wiles to plot some crimes for her men. That went so well she continued the pattern with her second and third husbands. I imagine there’s quite a sum built up in her name at the bank in San Francisco.”

  “Though not enough, it seems, to satisfy her,” Hart said as they neared the bottom of the hill. “When the sheriff in San Francisco started asking questions, she knew it was best to leave town.”

  “In case he discovered her other activities,” Beth agreed. “She came to Seattle, set up shop in more ways than one.”

  Hart helped her up onto the boardwalk as they reached the center of town. “And then she sighted Scout.”

  “And his money.” Beth sighed. “I suppose that’s when the gang disappeared for a while. She didn’t want to take the chance they might be caught and reveal her when she was so close to achieving her goal. She kept them closed up in her shop and convinced Scout to pay for the supplies.” Beth shook her head. “Very clever. Wicked, but clever.”

  Hart thought it time to change the subject. “What’s this about you opening a matchmaking business?”

  “Shh!” she cautioned as they approached the hotel and her waiting brother. “I haven’t told my family yet. I’ll explain it to you next week, when I come back to town to stay. I’ve taken a room with Mrs. Elliott, at the ladies’ boardinghouse.”

  She was willing to leave Wallin Landing to live in town? That might improve his chances. But he’d need to move fast. She might be starting a matchmaking service, but he had no doubt that a good many men in Seattle would be only too happy to make a match, with her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Beth stood on the boardwalk outside Kelloggs’, fingering the note from her latest client. Only two weeks as a professional matchmaker and already she had three gentlemen to help, besides Scout. Two she had introduced to prospective brides around the area, and the courtships seemed to be progressing. Scout and the mail-
order bride she’d identified were corresponding, and light seemed to be returning to his eyes. All expressed complete confidence in her ability to see the tasks through. She shared their confidence.

  But she couldn’t help remembering the one time she’d given up.

  She was certain she’d see more of Hart now that she lived in Seattle, but after she’d met him at the Pastry Emporium and told him all about her plans they kept missing each other. She was busy helping organize the women’s suffrage march, memorizing her lines for the upcoming theatrical. But he knew how to find her. Perhaps he didn’t believe her promise to never again turn her matchmaking skills on him.

  Scout had told her Hart had convinced the sheriff to let Bobby remain in Scout’s custody. The boy had confessed to helping his sister out of fear. She’d kept him close, threatened harm to anyone he’d tried to befriend. His ability to identify his sister’s accomplices and detail their crimes would go a long way toward proving his willingness to lead a law-abiding life from here on. Mrs. Jamison and her confederates were awaiting trial when the judge sat in May. So, Hart’s investigation of that case was over. Beth hadn’t heard of any other major crimes that might be keeping him busy. He clearly didn’t want to spend time with her.

  She might as well admit it. Though she still loved him and probably always would, he might never return her feelings. She had to accept that, and get on with her life.

  Her family had seemed surprised but supportive of her decision to give up her claim for a vocation. Simon intended to see whether the territory would allow them to purchase Beth’s land instead of her earning it. She had promised to put what she could toward the cost. It was a small price to pay for the freedom to do what she felt called to do.

  She glanced down at the note, delivered only this morning. It was a bit mysterious—with no signature or anything that might suggest its writer. She was requested for tea al fresco. Likely that meant the note came from a gentleman attempting to ensure that propriety would be satisfied. She recognized the location. It was the house she’d hoped Hart would purchase, the one she’d tried to rent. At least this client had good taste. She adjusted her pink sleeves and headed for her appointment.