Miracle Jones

by Nancy Bush

  “Tell me about the Danners,” she suggested, then could have cut out her tongue as she heard Harrison’s sharp intake of breath. The topic could only bring Joseph pain. Yet there was no point in trying to avoid the subject of Eliza’s death. It was obviously consuming Joseph, so it was better to talk it out than tiptoe around it.

  Joseph was staring into his wine glass. Glancing up, he said, “What would you like to know?”

  “Tremaine and Lexie seem so happy,” Miracle fumbled, shooting in angry glance at Harrison, silently asking for help.

  “They are happy,” Harrison said shortly. “Now.”

  “Tremaine is my son from a previous marriage. His mother died. I married Eliza when she was pregnant with Lexie.” Joseph sighed. “We didn’t tell them they weren’t related, at first. We didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

  Once started, Joseph seemed to want to talk. Miracle didn’t interrupt him, and neither did Harrison. He told about how Eliza’s first husband had tried to take Lexie away, how the Danners had fought to keep her safe, and how Eliza had nearly lost her life as a result and Harrison had nearly lost his right arm.

  Once that subject was exhausted, he switched to the Garretts. Having met Jace and drawing her own conclusions, and knowing that Kelsey and Harrison were engaged, Miracle was particularly interested in this.

  “Jace Garrett and Tremaine can’t stand each other,” Joseph said. “They fought over Lexie. Lucinda Garrett was a tyrant, too. Tried to force Kelsey to marry old Warfield. Then when Kelsey refused, Lucinda started on the next wealthy codger.” Joseph snorted. “Kelsey had too much spirit and sense to give in, though.”

  Miracle nodded, certain her smile was frozen on her face. Everyone spoke so fondly of Kelsey. The woman was near a saint!

  Harrison was frowning down at the coffee Elsie, the maid, had served. Miracle’s gaze touched on his chiseled features just as he looked up, his emerald eyes slashing into hers.

  “Until she agreed to marry Harrison,” Miracle pointed out.

  Now why did he look so furious? She’d only spoken the truth.

  Joseph went on. “Had Lucinda lived, I don’t think she would have agreed to the marriage. But Jace, for all his faults, is a shrewd businessman. Kelsey marrying Harrison ensures our two families get along better. It only feathers his nest to keep harmony between us.” Joseph lifted his own coffee cup. A faint smile touched his lips. “Of course, if Joshua Garrett had lived we wouldn’t even be talking to the Garretts. He hated us and made no excuses about it.”

  “Joshua Garrett?” Miracle asked politely.

  “Kelsey’s and Jace’s father. There was never a nastier individual born on this earth. He cheated people out of their land – tried to get his hands on Danner property any way he could. He was a grand womanizer, too. The man had no conscience and didn’t care who he hurt in the process. Had a dozen whores in Rock Springs. Kelsey and Jace were lucky he didn’t live to cause them further scandal. Died of diphtheria about ten years ago.”

  Joseph’s face darkened in remembrance of his own wife’s death. Miracle started to say something to fill the gap, when he suddenly smiled. “Joshua’s probably rolling over in his grave right now, thinking about Harrison and Kelsey wed!”

  “Emerald doesn’t like it much either,” Harrison stated. He was relieved his father wasn’t slipping back into depression.

  Joseph shook his silvered head. “What a family you’re marrying into, son! Don’t ever turn your back on them, or they might drive a knife through you and really finish you off!”

  Harrison arched a brow at Miracle, whose color abruptly fled from her face. “I’ll remember that advice,” he said.

  “I should be getting back,” Miracle murmured, folding her napkin.

  Harrison scraped back his chair and came around the table, pulling Miracle’s chair out. Smoothing her palms on her skirt, Miracle swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “Thank you,” she said to Joseph.

  His expression softened. “I was glad for the company,” he told her. “When Tremaine showed you in, I thought he’d sent for a shaman. I was ready to flail him alive. My wife liked to believe in magical cures,” he explained unnecessarily, “but I don’t feel the same way. Tremaine obviously feels you’re an accomplished herbalist.”

  “We’ve shared a few of the same patients,” Miracle agreed.

  Harrison hadn’t said a word since he pulled back her chair. Miracle hazarded a glance at his shuttered face. He seemed to be deliberately keeping his distance. Hellfire, did he have to make it so obvious? She knew there was no room in his life for a half-breed Chinook. His offer of marriage didn’t count, especially since he was engaged to someone else!

  Seated beside him on the wagon, a blanket wrapped around her knees, Miracle hoped he would at least talk to her. But Harrison merely clucked his tongue at the horses, glanced around at the jersey tied onto the back, then trained his gaze on the road ahead.

  It was pitch black. The moon wasn’t even a glimmer. Only diamond-bright stars stared down from the heavens, making Miracle feel more alone and lonely than ever.

  “I’ve got the money I owe you at the store,” she said when the silence reached unbearable proportions.

  He grunted in reply.

  “Tremaine wanted me to see your father.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “He seems better, don’t you think?”

  “A little.”

  Miracle’s temper, never submerged for long, erupted before she could control it. “I don’t expect a lot from white men, but it would be nice to think I wasn’t a piece of furniture!”

  “Miracle, you are no more a piece of furniture that my meddling sister is. Just what the hell did you think you could accomplish by pulling your tricks on my father?”

  Her mouth dropped open in outrage. “Tremaine trusts me!”

  “Tremaine has a conveniently short memory,” Harrison bit out angrily. “He’s forgotten Belinda.”

  “I don’t think he has at all! Your mother obviously believed in Belinda whether she did any real good or not. Tremaine is worried sick about your father. He thought I could help.” To his stony silence, she added with a lift of her chin, “Which I did.”

  “Well, the spell didn’t work on me,” he snarled.

  “Why are you so angry with me?” Miracle demanded in fury.

  Harrison bit back an automatic retort. He was angry with her. And it didn’t have anything to do with his father.

  “I’m not angry with you,” he lied with smoldering fury. “Now shut up and let me deliver this cow in peace!”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Rock Springs was a welcome relief from the misery of the cold stranger beside her. Miracle’s teeth were chattering and her hands were numb by the time they reached the town’s outskirts, but she’d be damned if she’d ask for any help. Harrison obviously didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. Fine. She could forget her silly fantasies and get on with her life. She was here to find her father. She didn’t need Harrison at all.

  The lantern lights inside Miracle’s shop were still burning. Through the windows Miracle could see Uncle Horace sitting on one side of the table erected out of barrels and planks of wood, talking to one of the men Miracle had met in Garrett Mercantile.

  “Thank you, Dr. Danner,” she said stiffly, climbing down.

  “My pleasure, Miss Jones.”

  “Stay here while I get the money I owe you.”

  She swept inside, found a small bag of coins she’d set inside in a cigar box under the counter, then brought it back to him. Harrison accepted the bags with reluctance. “Why don’t you count it,” Miracle suggested angrily.

  He met her gaze. “I don’t even want it,” he said, then turned to back the wagon around before she could even enter the building.

  Fury mixed with despair as she pushed open the door again. Her emotions were in such a tangle she wanted to scream.

  Cigar smoke circled the air, and Miracle waved it away, cho
king.

  “Hullo, Miracle, my girl,” Uncle Horace greeted her. “How are the Danners?”

  She ground her back teeth together. He hadn’t wanted her to go. In fact, he’d been very vehement about her not going. “I think Joseph Danner is better.” She passed by the men and ran quickly up the narrow twisting staircase which led to the rooms upstairs. She was lucky to have a wood stove to cook on and a separate bedroom.

  “That’s what I am,” she declared aloud, her hands fisted at her sides, her voice echoing strangely. “Lucky. Lucky Miracle Jones.”

  Furious, she sank down on the cot she used as a bed and told herself she was never going to think about Harrison Danner again as long as she lived.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was Tremaine’s idea that Miracle should visit Joseph Danner on a regular basis. He was convinced that she had a positive effect on his father, and he even offered to pay her for her time. Miracle refused the money, but she did join Joseph for dinner every Friday night. Tremaine, Lexie, their two sons, and Samuel, before he left to go back to Portland, and sometimes Billy Greaves, also ate at the Danner family home.

  The only notable exception was Harrison.

  Tonight, they were all there, and Joseph was teasing Billy, who was desperately trying to learn to speak properly to impress a young lady.

  “Ah’ve got to improve my speech else no one’ll listen to me,” Billy told Joseph.

  “I’ve got to improve my speech or else no one will listen to me,” Lexie corrected automatically. She shot an amused glance at Miracle. “Miss Everly’s School for Young Ladies taught me good.”

  “Well, Mom,” Jamie Danner said rolling his eyes.

  Lexie and Tremaine grinned at each other, and Miracle, witness to this lively family banter, felt a stab of regret that she had never enjoyed such closeness.

  “Mead,” as Joseph called the housekeeper, stumped into the room, glaring at both Miracle and Elsie, who was setting a basket of fresh biscuits on the elegant table. She kept her plainspoken tongue inside her head, however; Joseph wouldn’t abide the rudeness she seemed to feel was her due.

  “Are you going to the Ladies Aid Society’s dance and benefit?” Lexie asked Miracle.

  Miracle, her mind on Harrison, was surprised Lexie had brought it up. She’d seen the posted notices about the upcoming dance and benefit scheduled at the grange hall, but had never once considered attending.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s to help the families whose children died during the diphtheria epidemic,” Lexie explained gently to her father.

  Everyone’s thoughts touched on Eliza. Miracle choked down a bite of chicken and dumplings.

  Where was Harrison? Miracle wondered. Shouldn’t he be here with his family? With his father during his time of need? If she knew who her father was, she’d make every effort to be with him. If she only knew…

  Lexie was staring at her thoughtfully. “You know, the dance won’t be anything grand or fancy. Most people in Rock Springs just show up in everyday clothes.”

  Miracle’s face burned. Lexie had correctly interpreted one of the reasons Miracle wouldn’t go.

  Realizing she might have offended her, Lexie shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “I just thought you might want to know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where’s Harrison?” Joseph suddenly demanded, as if he suddenly remembered he had another son.

  “Working.” Tremaine poured himself another glass of wine. “I don’t know what the hell’s got into him.”

  Lexie caught Miracle’s gaze as it slid of its own will toward the only empty chair.

  “He’s making up for lost time at work,” Lexie explained. “And he’s building his house, too.”

  “What for? He doesn’t seem to need it. Harrison hasn’t seen Kelsey for weeks,” Joseph complained, unknowingly offering a tidbit of information to Miracle’s gossip-starved ears. “She and Emerald stopped by today, and Emerald let it slip.”

  “Let it slip.” Lexie snorted. “Not likely. She said it on purpose, if I know Emerald Garrett. What did Kelsey say?”

  Joseph shook his silvered head. “Nothing. For a talkative girl, she’s been mighty quiet lately.”

  Miracle absorbed this startling news silently. What did it mean? She didn’t dare believe Harrison had broken his engagement.

  “They’re going to get married, aren’t they?” Seth Danner, Tremaine and Lexie’s younger son, asked anxiously.

  “Of course they are,” Joseph answered. “Harrison isn’t building that house to rattle around in all by himself.”

  Miracle’s heart plummeted. So he was building his house, was he? That certainly sounded like the wedding was still on.

  The evening ended with Miracle being driven back to Rock Springs by Billy. She thought about the dance and Harrison. She didn’t really know how to dance, but she was a quick learner. How she would love to dress up and have Harrison see her for once wearing something that wasn’t torn, tattered, or old!

  Little fool, she berated herself. Harrison might lust after you, but he doesn’t love you. Just because he isn’t seeing Kelsey right now is no assurance that he won’t marry her.

  But if just once she could look beautiful and elegant, maybe then he would see that she wasn’t just the poor half-breed Chinook who’d stabbed him in the back. He could see her as a woman.

  Except that she didn’t want to see him again. Ever.

  “Billy?” she asked cautiously as he pulled to a stop before her shop. “Do you know how to dance?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “How would you like to learn? We could combine it with speech lessons, and then later we could go to the Ladies Aid Society dance…”

  Billy looked stricken, but the bait had been thrown out. “You want to go to the dance with me?” he squeaked, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “We need each other, Billy,” Miracle told him. “What about that girl in town you’re trying to impress? Wouldn’t you love her to see you dancing?” A scarlet tide crept up his neck. It was answer enough for Miracle. “Come by tomorrow afternoon and we’ll start.”

  Billy never really had time to object, for Miracle leapt from the wagon and quickly let herself into the shop. She was bound and determined to make herself more attractive to Harrison – even though she didn’t want to see him again, she reminded herself sternly.

  But there was also the problem of what to wear.

  She considered that thorny question all through the following morning, finally deciding that she would have a new dress even if she had to muck out stables to do it. She’d learned of a good dressmaker quite by accident when she’d been in the mercantile one afternoon, and as soon as Uncle Horace returned from some errands to spell her behind the counter, Miracle hurried to Mrs. Weatherby’s tiny shop, which was tucked inconspicuously between the feedstore and the tannery.

  The sulfuric smell of stale, cooked cabbage assaulted Miracle’s nostrils as soon as she stepped inside. Through the back door, behind a glistening black sewing machine and several half-finished gowns, Miracle could see into Mrs. Weatherby’s kitchen from where the noxious scent was wafting. A child bawled loudly.

  “Hush up,” a young woman’s voice declared impatiently. Before Miracle could react, the woman herself appeared. She was older than Miracle by a few years, glowing with a blond beauty that even the lines of discontent beside her mouth couldn’t hide.

  “Do you want something?”

  “Are you… Mrs. Weatherby?”

  “She’s my mother. She’s busy right now. I can help you.”

  “I was hoping she could make me a dress,” Miracle said, glancing at the bolts of cloth stacked on the shelves to her right. “Something blue.”

  The woman eyed Miracle’s faded blouse and skirt. As the child let out another screech, she screamed over her shoulder, “Stay in your chair! I’ll be there in a minute!”

  “Maybe I should come back another time.”

&
nbsp; “How are you going to pay for this?” the woman asked, taking a pencil from behind her ear and writing on a notepad.

  Miracle glanced at the pile of work sitting beside the sewing machine. “I’m not a bad seamstress. I was hoping I might earn the wages to make my dress.”

  The pencil landed on the counter with a slap. “My mother’ll be back at three. Come back and talk to her.” She turned on her heel and strode back to the kitchen.

  If this was the attitude at Mrs. Weatherby’s, Miracle was certain she would sew the dress from top to bottom herself. But was there enough time? The dance was next week, and she also had to spend time learning how to waltz as well as mind the store.

  Dutifully, Miracle returned to the shop at three and was relieved to find a small plump woman working at the sewing machine. She smiled when Miracle entered.

  “Mrs. Weatherby?” Miracle asked.

  “Are you the woman who came by earlier? Isabella said someone might be looking for work.”

  Isabella? A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. But she was no longer beautiful inside, if she ever had been. “I am.” Miracle explained about her shop and finished with “I could work some evenings. Help you catch up and maybe earn enough for my own gown.”

  Mrs. Weatherby was graciousness itself, a far cry from her daughter. “When can you start?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Bless you, child. I have dozens of gowns and shirts and breeches to finish. If you could do the fine seamwork, it would be worth two gowns to me.”

  Miracle was delighted. “I’ll be back directly after I close the shop.”

  The rest of the afternoon flew by, and Miracle was in good humor. She was dreaming of her blue gown while she stacked the store’s shelves with the bottles from the first shipment of goods which had arrived from Uncle Horace’s “man in Minnesota.” The vision of Harrison’s astounded face was enough to make her want to hug herself with delight. She would make him see she wasn’t the terrible little savage he thought her.

  The door opened, and a man’s footsteps rang loud and hard against the plankwood floor. Still lost in her wonderful schemes, Miracle looked up, a smile curving her generous lips, a jar of crushed tamarack bark in her hand.