Rachel (Bride Brigade Book 5)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Buck McCartney’s red beard split in a grin. “She one of the Bride Brigade ladies?”

  Zane admitted, “That she is.”

  Bronco Alvarez twirled the end of his mustache and his black eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you have chosen her to be your bride, verdad?”

  Zane exhaled and tugged at his ear lobe. No point denying his interest. “If I’m lucky. Others may try to court her as well.”

  Vic ran a finger along the scar that made his face appear frightening to most people he met for the first time. “You want us to discourage others from dropping by?”

  “Thanks, but she has to choose me fair and square. I’ll do my best to plead my case, though.”

  Vic’s brow furrowed. “You warn her not to be scared of me?”

  Zane chuckled, remembering the first time he’d met the scarred giant of a man. “No, Vic, but I doubt she will be. You’re not as fierce as you think.”

  Mick Cooper, the only black man he employed, put his hands in front of his face as if he were frightened. “Scares me ever’ time I see him. That’s good when we meet robbers or injuns.”

  Vic sent Mick a disgusted glare. “You ain’t afraid of nuthin’ ’cept your wife. Ruby gives you her ‘look’ and you quake in your boots.”

  Mick rocked back on his heels and laughed. “That’s sure ’nuff the truth. That woman knows she’s the boss no matter how much I tell her different.”

  Zane was amused by Mick’s confession. “Thanks, men. Are you set to leave at dawn on Thursday?”

  Vic said, “We’ll be saddled up and waiting.”

  The other three men nodded their agreement.

  “Then I’ll do my errands and check back later.”

  Deep in thought, Zane strolled toward the mercantile. He’d make sure Michael Buchanan allowed Rachel to charge to his account. He couldn’t keep from thinking of her by her given name even though he called her Miss Ross. He’d better be careful or he’d slip up and call her by her first name when talking to her.

  After he’d had a brief visit with Michael at the mercantile, he ambled back to his office. He wanted to know more about Rachel. Why fool himself—he was determined to learn everything about her.

  When he returned, the stack of papers in the wooden tray had decreased and she was busily entering amounts into the ledger. When he entered, she raised her gaze and smiled.

  He grinned. “You’re making progress I see.”

  “Trying my best. You did mean I can rearrange the files before I put these receipts away?” Her eyes widened in what appeared as alarm. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the way you have things.”

  “You don’t have to be tactful, Miss Ross. I’m aware the files are a mess. I’ve intended to straighten them for months, but I always postpone that onerous task.”

  Her tinkling laugh delighted him. “I’m glad you don’t mind if I shuffle things around, Mr. Evans. I promise you won’t have trouble finding anything when I’m finished.”

  “That will definitely be an improvement. I told Buchanan at the mercantile you can add to my account.”

  “That’s kind of you. Um… you do have separate accounts for personal and business, don’t you?”

  He wanted to smack his forehead at how inept he had been. Hoping she didn’t think him neglectful, he explained, “Until recently, I was living here and that didn’t seem a necessary distinction. Guess now I should have two accounts. Perhaps you’d take care of that when you see about the office pictures.”

  “I’ll be pleased to do so.”

  He pulled one of the chairs in front of her desk to the side a bit so he was closer to her. “Tomorrow is payday for my men. We didn’t set a salary for you, Miss Ross.”

  She chewed on her luscious lower lip for a second. “I really don’t mind the pay. I’m happy to be busy and getting more experience. If I don’t marry, I intend to set up a bookkeeping service.”

  Her statement was like ice water on his plans. “Don’t you want to marry?”

  She blushed. “As a matter of fact, I do, but that doesn’t mean a man I care for will want to wed me.”

  “Surely of the men in town you can find one who interests you. I guarantee any man you choose will be doing cartwheels of joy down our Main Street.”

  She lowered her gaze demurely but peered at him through her lashes. “You flatter me, but that’s kind of you to say.”

  He wanted her to marry him if only he could convince her not to accept another man while he was out of town. “Now, about your salary… I can’t pay what you earned in Richmond, but I want to be fair.” He named an amount.

  Her face lit with pleasure. “That’s quite generous. I hope that won’t infringe on your personal income.”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. If she agreed to marry him, it would be all in the family. “Is this similar to the work you did in Virginia?”

  Was that fear in her eyes?

  She took a deep breath. “Much easier. I worked for a large business, and there were separate ledgers for payables, receivables, depreciation, and so forth. This is much nicer.”

  “How did your family feel about you moving to Texas?”

  He could swear she paled. “My brother Patrick said he’d come for a visit once I’m settled. How did your parents and siblings react to you setting down roots here instead of Pennsylvania?”

  Nice diversionary tactic, he’d give her that. “They’re just glad I settled down. They didn’t like me traveling across the country and them never knowing where to contact me. Now that I have a house, my parents have promised to visit next spring. What about yours? Will they be coming to see you?”

  She shook her head. “My father won’t leave his business even for a couple of days. Mother is a bit on the timid side and won’t do anything without him. I’ve never known them to take a trip anywhere.”

  “What business is your father in?”

  She hesitated before she spoke, “He’s a dry goods broker in Richmond. My brother works with him to learn the business he’ll one day inherit.”

  “But you didn’t go get a job with him?”

  She rolled the pencil in her fingers and didn’t meet his eyes. “Papa’s against women working unless their family desperately needs the income. He wouldn’t hire me, so I found work elsewhere.”

  What kind of man wouldn’t hire his own daughter? From the way she spoke, he knew talking about her father’s opinion hurt her. Zane wanted to spare her any pain he could.

  “Many men share that opinion. I believe they’re behind the times.”

  A smile beamed across her face. “Fortunately for me.”

  He stood and repositioned the chair. “Now I’m going to check with some customers about their orders and let you get on with your bookkeeping. If anyone needs me, I’ll be talking with Callahan, Kendrick, and Gamble.”

  Walking toward the hotel, Zane decided if Rachel wouldn’t tell him about herself, he’d learn why she turned pale as a ghost when he mentioned her family. Once at the hotel, he asked for a sheet of paper and wrote out a message to his former Pinkerton coworker, John Warren.

  “Need info on Rachel Ross formerly of Richmond. Stop. Brother Patrick and father are dry goods brokers. Stop. Worked as bookkeeper for large firm. Stop. Now in Tarnation and works for me. Stop. Hope to marry her.”

  He handed the paper over to Lemuel Gamble, owner of the hotel.

  The man counted the words. “That’ll cost you seventy-five cents.”

  Zane handed Lemuel six bits. “I expect the contents of this wire and the answer to be strictly confidential.”

  Lemuel, who was a terrible gossip, bristled. “I never repeat anything from one of the wires what comes through here. I’d lose my business if I did.”

  “Guess that’s right, Lemuel. We’re heading out on Thursday morning. You expecting anything by freight?”

  The hotel owner grimaced. “Had to order two more rugs. People take no care what they do to a hotel room. You make sure they don�
�t get wet.”

  He nodded to the man. “Sure will. Talk with you later.”

  Whistling a tune, Zane went on his way to check with Callahan at the furniture store and Kendrick at the opera house and saloon.

  Chapter Nine

  Rachel heaved a huge sigh of relief when Zane left. She hadn’t been prepared to be grilled about her past and her family. Although he was only being friendly, his questions had disconcerted her.

  Zane Evans intrigued her. He was as handsome as any man she’d ever met. At the same time, he was down to earth and without conceit—the perfect candidate for a husband. Drat the luck that he wanted to know everything about her.

  She’d explain all about her past before she agreed to wed him, but this was too early for that sort of exchange. She considered a way to answer future questions without revealing too much. Mentioning she had three sisters as well as a brother should be all right.

  Would telling him the name of her father’s business and Haversham’s be too revealing? She could admit to her father’s company. But, Zane was certain to want the name of the firm where she’d worked.

  Good heavens, then he’d ask why she quit. She mulled over possible answers. She might say she wanted to escape the devastation of the war. Or, that she longed for adventure. How about saying that as someone from a large family, she needed to strike out on her own?

  Anything was better than the truth. Once again she felt under attack by the heartache her family’s rejection created. Bad enough to be accused of a crime she hadn’t committed. But, her family should have rallied around her, knowing she would never steal.

  Only Patrick had asked her what happened. The others assumed her to be guilty in spite of her denials. The shabby lawyer her father had hired did the same. In spite of his admonition, she’d refused to admit to a crime she hadn’t committed.

  His defense had been half-hearted at best. The jury took a short time in consideration before bringing a guilty verdict. Howard Forsythe had smirked from his seat beside Mr. Haversham when the sentence was given.

  Rachel had considered herself above hating anyone, but that was before she’d been framed by Howard Forsythe. He was the devil incarnate. Who else would set up his own trusting coworker?

  With another sigh, she went back to work. She’d been steadily working her way through the pile of receipts when the door opened. Schooling her features carefully, she had to decide whether to scream or say hello. She chose the latter.

  “Good morning, may I help you?”

  The ferocious-looking man’s face split in a wide grin. “Boss said you wouldn’t be afraid of me. I come to tell him something.”

  She offered what she hoped passed for a smile. “He’s checking with a customer, but I’ll be happy to relay your message, Mr. ….”

  “Vic Marshal, no mister, just Vic.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Ah, and here I suspected you might be Goliath. I’m happy to meet you, Vic.”

  He chuckled. “I get it, Miss Ross. I ’member the story of David and Goliath. I reckon Goliath was taller than me.”

  “I suppose he must have been. You’re about six-six, aren’t you?”

  “You guessed close, but I’m an inch taller than you said. This scar on my face scares most people—’cept my wife. She ain’t scared of nothin’.”

  “I look forward to meeting her. What’s her name?”

  “Didamia Lee. She don’t go out much, but she’d like to meet you. I’ll tell her to come by while we’re gone.”

  “Thank you, that would be nice. What did you want me to tell Mr. Evans?”

  “My horse threw a shoe and Mick’s favorite came up lame. I’m taking my horse to the blacksmith. Mick’s doctoring his with liniment but I don’t reckon he’ll be ready to travel by Thursday.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for the poor horse and for Mick. Who cares for the animals while you’re gone?”

  “When we take two wagons like we are this time, we take all the horses with us. I reckon Fabian Dubicki at the livery will take care of the lame horse.”

  “I haven’t met Mr. Dubicki yet. I’m still getting acquainted with Tarnation’s residents.”

  “He’s an okay guy.” He acted alarmed. “Uh, no one you’d want to marry of course. Better you look toward men like the boss.”

  She hid the smile that threatened to tilt her lips. “I see. Are the other men who go with you married?”

  “Yep. Ken and his wife live in town but we live yonder.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the four houses. “See, the boss gives us riders a house to live in as part of our salary. Nice place with two bedrooms and room for a vegetable garden in back. Didamia sure likes growing some of our food.”

  “I love gardening too. I admit most of mine has been flowers. One of my friends brought seeds with her.”

  “Flowers or vegetables?”

  “Both. Her name is Lorraine Stuart. She was a librarian in Virginia, but she loves gardening as well as reading.”

  “I’ll tell my wife. Reckon they might meet up sometime.”

  “Oh, I’ll make sure they do. Lorraine loves talking about plants.”

  “So does my Didamia. Well, reckon I’ll get on my way to the blacksmith.”

  “Nice meeting you, Vic.”

  The tall man gave her a puzzled gaze then nodded and left.

  Good heavens, he was the largest man she’d ever seen. When he’d entered, she was certain her throat was about to be cut. On the contrary, the giant acted shy and gentle. As Lorraine would say, you can’t judge a book by its cover.

  By the time Zane returned, Rachel had all of the files out on the floor and was alphabetizing them. She’d thought at first that he had receivables and payables in different drawers, but that proved false. No help but to start over.

  “Did you stop for lunch?” he asked.

  “I guess the time slipped by without me noticing. I can’t leave with everything in this mess.”

  “I’ll pick us up something from the café. Martha runs the front and Lonnie Granger rustles up tasty meals.”

  Before she could reply, he was out the door. She took the chance to duck out the back door to the privy. She spied a black man rubbing the leg of a horse. He must be Mick. Two other men walked toward the houses at the edge of the pasture.

  She dashed back inside and washed her hands at the sink. Then, she cleared a space on her desk for the lunch Zane had promised.

  He entered with a basket covered in a red-checked napkin. “Let’s eat in my office. My desk is larger and clear.”

  “You brought your lunch too? How lovely to have company while I dine.” She meant how lovely to have his company. If only he wouldn’t ask questions about her past life.

  He set the basket on the edge of his desk and set out plates, cutlery, and glasses and a tall jar of lemonade. “Today is roast beef day. They have only two choices on the menu, but the roast beef is especially popular.”

  She inhaled. “The food smells delicious. Goodness, I hadn’t realized how hungry I am.” She sat in the chair he indicated, one he’d pulled to the end of his desk so they were elbow to elbow.

  “I hadn’t planned to monopolize your day. I confess I like sharing a meal with you.”

  “I’ll finish the files this afternoon and in the morning. I don’t expect you to pay me for this afternoon, especially since you’re furnishing my dinner.”

  “Nonsense. You work, you get paid. Seeing you in the office when I come in certainly is a welcome sight.”

  “What a nice thing to say.” She picked up her fork while he poured her lemonade. “You have messages. Vic came by on his way to the blacksmith after his horse threw a shoe. Mick’s favorite horse came up lame and won’t be healed by Thursday.”

  He set a glass by her plate. “That’s too bad. The men usually switch out horses each morning. Guess I’ll have to rent one from Dubicki.”

  She took a sip of the refreshing liquid. “Vic said Mr. Dubicki would care for the lame horse whil
e you’re gone.”

  His face with a serious expression, Zane tugged at his earlobe. “Dubicki’s dependable and a nice guy. Still, this puts a crimp in our trip. Don’t think I’m superstitious, but I take that as a sign of trouble to come.”

  She scooped a bite of potato. “That is being superstitious, Mr. Evans, but I agree that sometimes we have signs of things to come. I hope you’ll take extra precautions on the trip.”

  “I’m always cautious. We’ve faced Indians and robbers and robbers who pretended to be Indians. Never lost a load, though.”

  “Amazing. I was afraid our stage would be robbed, but Lydia… um, Mrs. Harrison assured us we were safe. We were definitely uncomfortable, though. Nine women plus valises plus food meant not an inch to spare. None of us could move enough to stretch.”

  “That’s a rough trip. Our wagons travel most of the same roads. Real bone-rattlers.” He forked a bite of beef into his mouth.

  “You probably go slower than we did.”

  “Depends on the load. This time, I’ll have furniture for Callahan’s store plus wood for caskets. We’ll also be hauling goods for the mercantile, blacksmith, hotel, and various ranchers. Doc Gaston is building on to his house, and we’ll have wood and fittings in the second wagon.”

  “I’m glad the doctor is expanding his home. That must mean he plans to stay here instead of moving to a larger town. Sophie—his mother—has been concerned.”

  “I take it she doesn’t want to move.”

  “No, she doesn’t like to leave Tarnation. She only traveled with Lydia because she had urged Lydia to do something to keep the men here.”

  “I don’t plan to move and that’s a fact.”

  “You told me you had long-term plans. I plan to stay here, too. Although the landscape and weather are different from Virginia, I like the town.”

  His eyes met hers and she melted from the heat in his gaze. He placed a strong, broad hand over her smaller one. “That pleases me, Ra…Miss Ross. You must know I have strong feelings for you.”

  She withdrew her hand and lowered her gaze. “We’ve only recently met, Mr. Evans, and it’s too soon to be certain. However, when we’re alone, you may call me Rachel.”