by Kit Morgan
“Which were?”
“Mainly getting the bookshop built. Mayor Hardt didn’t have any buildings to rent so I had to construct my own. Good thing there are two sawmills within a day’s ride. I had to order lumber from both to stay on schedule, but everything has worked out so far.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about building,” she confessed.
His head tilted to one side. “You never told me what your family did.”
“Oh, I didn’t? My father owns three dry goods stores in Denver.”
“He does?” he said with a smile and leaned toward her.
She’d seen this sort of reaction before when she’d spoken about her father’s stores. Her family wasn’t nearly as well off as the Finks, but they definitely did all right. She took another sip of her coffee and hoped he didn’t ask her anything else. Best to keep the conversation on him. “Is there a bed?” She flinched – why did she have to ask that?
“Of course there is – it came in last week. A beautiful brass bed. Ordered it special …” His eyes darted to the table and back.
Dorcas flushed. She’s been so busy lamenting over Vernon that she hadn’t given the marriage bed a second thought. She’d have to thank the reverend again for suggesting they take a few days to get to know one another.
“… And we have a small settee, and two extra chairs for company,” he suddenly added. “It’s not much to start, I know, but after we see a return on my investment in the silver mine and I sell a few novels …”
“Novels?” she said with interest. “You write?”
Elwood smiled proudly. “Yes I’m working on my first one now – ‘The Perils of “Polecat” Pete Savage’.”
Dorcas smiled despite her nerves. “Tell me about it.”
His grin widened. “You do realize what you just asked me?”
She giggled at the delight on his face. “No, but I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”
He laughed. “Indeed. Where to begin?”
“At the beginning,” she urged. This was obviously his first love, next to others’ books.
And for the next hour he regaled her with tales of his protagonist, Sheriff Pete Savage. By the time he was done, they’d gone through three cups of coffee each and a whole plate of cookies. “I patterned Pete after Sheriff Draven – not too much, mind, but enough,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get an interview with Draven for weeks, but so far it hasn’t happened. Rev. Hammond says he can help with that. I think I know my hero well enough to start writing, but he still needs something …”
“Goodness – from the sounds of it, I thought you had started.”
“There’s a lot of preparation before the actual writing. But enough of all that.” He stood, went around the table, helped her up and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Dorcas smiled at the brightness in his eyes. “Please. But shouldn’t we have a chaperone?”
“To walk down the street in broad daylight? Hardly – this isn’t Denver, let alone Boston. And my shop is full of workers. There will be plenty of people around.”
Dorcas smiled – really smiled. During their talk she forgot about Vernon, the arranged marriage and any thoughts about how upset her parents must be. There was just Elwood and his books, and that was enough for her.
Norah emerged from the kitchen to retrieve the plate and cups. “Heading out, are ye?” she commented and glanced at their linked arms. “Going to show her yer shop?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elwood said with a tip of his hat. “By the way, I have some fine cookbooks if you’re interested.”
“Me and me man will wait until you set everything up, lad. Then we’ll come take a look.”
“I can’t wait to show them to you. Right now, though, I’ll show my future wife a few things.”
Dorcas blushed at his words, and her heart skipped a beat. “I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Hunter.”
“Again, call me Elwood. Might as well get used to using our first names.”
“When’s the wedding?” Norah asked.
“If all goes well and we finish the back wall, next Tuesday. I won’t have my wife sleeping in a draft.”
He was being so kind and protective – just what she needed right now. Which reminded her: Would Daphne return to town before the wedding?
“Off with ye, then,” Norah said. “And remember, supper’s at six. Ye know how I like ye to be prompt.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Elwood ushered Dorcas toward the doors. She caught sight of several miners playing cards at a nearby table, and realized that since her arrival there had been no whistles, hoots or hollers. She’d heard these men were a rough lot and was surprised they’d been so quiet. Maybe they were afraid to say anything while she was in Elwood’s company. She smiled at the thought as her future husband escorted her outside.
“Well,” he said, pointing ahead as they started up the street, “there it is.”
Dorcas admired the brand-new structure – only one story, but painted a pale yellow like old pages. The front wall was concave, both sides angling toward the front door to resemble an open book. “Elwood, how lovely.”
“Do you like the color?” he asked. “I thought to paint it green, but yellow is happier.”
“I think it’s wonderful. Can I see inside?”
“That’s why we’re here.” He led her across the street, down the boardwalk and stopped in front of his building. “The sign will go up tomorrow – ‘Hunter’s Books’,” he announced, waving at the space over the door. “With the letters in green.”
“It’s going to be wonderful. And what lovely windows,” she added, admiring the wide front panes.
“Yes, I want to have nice displays in them. But they’ll need tending now and then – washing, that sort of thing, when we change displays. Oh, did I tell you we have two stoves?”
She smiled at his enthusiasm. “No, you only mentioned the one.”
“One in the storefront, the other in back. Which reminds me – need to see about a woodshed.”
Dorcas gazed at him a moment. He looked so happy. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“Not everything, I’m afraid. Things are always coming up that need tending. But now that you’re here, you can help me.”
Dorcas smiled again. She hadn’t given much thought to what she’d be doing as a wife. A woman cooked, cleaned, did the mending, minded the store … at least in her world. As his wife and coworker, what duties would she have to perform that she didn’t know yet? Domesticity hadn’t been on her mind when she came here, only getting away from Vernon Fink. She shivered at the thought, quickly clearing her throat to cover it up.
“Are you cold? Here, let’s go inside.” He led her into the building.
She looked around at the new stove, the polished counter, the cash register, and suddenly felt right at home. “This reminds me of one of my father’s stores before we opened it. My mother took me with her to speak to him about something. None of the goods were on the shelves. I remember how he sat me on the counter and let me dust the cash register.”
Elwood turned to her. “Glad your family owns dry goods stores. Running a bookshop should be very familiar.”
“I’m sure it will be.” She studied his face. She’d never thought of a man’s eyes as beautiful, but that was the only way to describe Elwood’s.
“Also glad we’ll be working side by side,” he said. “Not that I need help, but …” He ran his hand down her arm. “… it’ll be nice to have you by my side.”
Dorcas blushed, growing warmer by the second. “So you have a new register?”
“Yes.” He turned toward it. “Cost me a pretty penny too, but we need it.” He glanced at the stacks of shelving piled against the walls just as several workers came in the front door, greeted him and began to work. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to speak to Jack over there. He owns the post and freight and has been invaluable to me.”
“Certainly.” She continued to study the roo
m as Jack spoke to the workers, then to Elwood. After a minute, the men shook hands, Jack made a beeline for her – and she took an involuntary step back. Elwood caught the action and raised a curious eyebrow. She shook her head to let him know it was nothing, that she was all right, but she wasn’t. She was suddenly nervous, jumpy, not herself at all. If this kept up, she’d never get married – guilt alone would drive her away from Noelle. She couldn’t let that happen – she was worrying for nothing, and needed to stop it.
“And you must be the future bride,” Jack said, seemingly not noticing her reticence as he approached. She noticed he had a slight limp. “Elwood here’s told me all about you. And I told my wife – she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Dorcas glanced between the two men. “She is?”
“Of course – this is a small town. Everyone knows Elwood’s getting married. We’re all friends and family here.”
“That’s right!” a gruff voice declared behind her. Dorcas turned. An old man with a silly smile stood in the doorway that led to the back of the building. “Welcome to Noelle! Um, who’re you again?”
Jack bit his lower lip to keep from laughing and shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse Grandpa Gus. You’ll meet his betrothed, Agatha, at some point, but she’ll remember your name.” He sighed. “They were supposed to get married but didn’t. They, um, haven’t told anyone. That said, we’d love to have you and Elwood to supper.”
“Indeed we would!” Gus waltzed in, took Dorcas’ hand and gave it a healthy shake. “What’s yer name again?”
“I haven’t introduced her yet, Grandpa,” said Jack.
“Gus,” Elwood said from behind Dorcas, putting his hands on her shoulders, “may I introduce my fiancée Dorcas Minx.”
Gus shook her hand again, this time hard enough to make her shoulder move. “Glad to meet you, pretty lady. Can’t wait to introduce you to my sweetheart. Yer coming to supper, of course?”
Jack pried his hand from hers. “Not tonight, Grandpa. Maybe after they’ve wed.”
“What? You mean ya ain’t married yet?” Grandpa gave Elwood a suspicious look. “Who’s chaperoning you, then?”
Elwood looked at Jack. “He is,” he teased. “Wedding’s Tuesday if all goes well. Speaking of which, how are things coming along back there?” He took Dorcas’ hand and headed for the back of the building.
“Just fine,” Jack said as he followed. “We should be done in the next few days.”
“If it don’t rain,” Gus added with a wink.
Dorcas took one look at the back room and gasped. The space was charming, like a little cottage. There was a table near the center, and a stove, hutch and dry sink at one wall. The stove was small but functional. A settee against the opposite wall sat between two upholstered chairs. At the far side was a brass bed, an armoire … and a large tarp where a wall should be. Other than that, the room was practical and beautiful.
Like the man holding her hand. She looked at him, his clean-shaven face, his nice clothes, the perfect cut of his hair. He was an organized individual, she could tell, and she instinctively knew exactly how to take care of him. After all, her father was much the same – he kept his storefronts clean and orderly, his inventory up-to-date. A bookshop would be even easier – you didn’t have to worry as much about insects or rodents eating your stock.
“Well, what do you think?” Elwood asked.
“It’s very nice.” She continued to look around.
“We’ve a pump out back.” He pointed to a door she hadn’t noticed.
She let go of his hand and went to it. “That’s good.” She glanced at the dry sink, and the small shelf above it with two plates, two cups, two bowls and a glass full of silverware. He’d thought of everything.
He joined her, took her hands in his and smiled. “I know it’s not much, but it’s a start. After a couple of years we’ll add a second story – there’ll be room for a proper parlor, a bedroom, kitchen …”
“It all sounds lovely,” she said. She was surprised at the calm in her voice, considering this could all be gone in an instant. She closed her eyes and looked away.
“Dorcas, what’s the matter? Don’t you like it?”
She turned back to him. “That’s not it at all. I just have a lot on my mind.” She glanced at the Peregrines and back. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Jack and his grandfather. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”
“Not at all,” Jack said, “Use the front. The boys went to get more shelving from my place – it should be quiet up there for a few moments.”
Elwood watched Gus pick up a hammer before leading Dorcas back to the storefront. “What is it?” he asked gently.
Dorcas’ throat grew thick and she couldn’t speak. This man was being so wonderful, and that blasted Vernon could ruin it all.
“Dorcas?”
“I … well, I …”
He took her hands in his again. “Dorcas, don’t you want to get married?”
“It’s not that,” she said with a shake of her head. “I do want to get married. It’s just that … I didn’t leave Denver on very good terms.” She bit her lip and hung her head. For Heaven’s sake, one would think she’d shot someone the way she was acting. In this case, it was avoiding being shot, or worse.
“What do you mean?” Elwood asked as he drew closer.
Dorcas could feel the heat of his body, smell his masculine scent combined with soap and paper. “My parents don’t know where I am,” she finally said. “By design. I left rather suddenly.”
“Don’t you get along with them?” He reached up and brushed a loose wisp of hair from her face.
His fingers were large and warm, the tips rough. For a moment she felt a calm come over her. “Not lately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do they know you’re getting married?”
She looked at him, swallowed hard and shook her head.
To her surprise, he drew her into his arms and gave her a hug. “I understand.” He drew back. “My parents and I are also in … disagreement.” He closed the distance between them, and she sensed his hesitancy. They were alone in the storefront with no chaperone – if someone were to walk in and see her in Elwood’s embrace …
He must have sensed it too, and drew away. “Dorcas, you should write them a letter, apologize or whatever you need to do. You’ll feel better for it.”
“I know, and I will … eventually. I’m just not ready. Can you understand?”
“Oh yes. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see my family again.”
She went to the counter and leaned against it. “Sounds like we both have letters to write. How long have you been Noelle?”
He came over to stand next to her. “Since April. Started building right away, and have been wrapped up in it ever since. Hadn’t given much thought to letter-writing until now.”
“Do your parents know where you are?”
“No.” He sighed. “After we’re married, we’ll both sit down, do some writing, renew acquaintances. How does that sound?”
She smiled at his reassurance. He had a nice voice – gentle, firm, with a determined edge. This wasn’t a gunfighter or the sort of man others feared, but he was smart and relatable. So far, Elwood Hunter was perfect for her. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”
He closed the distance between them again. “Glad to hear it,” he said gently. “I don’t want either of us going into this marriage fretting over our pasts. We should be free to think about the future from now on.”
She smiled shyly and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
He took her hands again. “It’ll be all right. I should probably escort you back to the Golden Nugget now – Norah doesn’t make idle threats when it comes to suppertime.”
She laughed. “I wonder what happens when Seamus is late.”
“Perish the thought,” he said through a grin. “But he’s never late – that should tell you something.”
Dorcas smiled, put her arm through his and let him escort her to the door.
“You be sure to come to supper tonight, okay?” Gus called from the back of the shop.
Elwood stopped in mid-stride, smiled and rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Grandpa Gus!” he called back. He gave Dorcas’ arm a gentle pat and led her outside.
Chapter 6
By the time they got back to the Golden Nugget, Norah already had the table set for supper. Dorcas studied the corner the table was tucked in as the proprietress approached with a smile. “Back in time for supper, I see. I’m glad to see ye so prompt, Mr. Hunter.”
Dorcas gave her future husband a sidelong glance. He caught the look and shrugged. “You might as well know … I do sometimes get wrapped up in things and lose track of time. One of my flaws.”
“Nonsense,” Norah said. “I wouldn’t call it a flaw so much as not paying attention.”
“I’ll try to be more dependable,” he assured her.
“Tell that to yer wife, especially when the children start coming.”
“Children!” Dorcas squeaked, and quickly put a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear – I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. Of course we’ll have children.”
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” Norah said. “But yer groom does like his books.”
“It wasn’t disrespectful at all,” Dorcas insisted, her cheeks were still hot from her reaction. She was marrying the man – children were a natural next step. She glanced at Elwood, who had taken out his pocket watch and was winding it. Just how late could he be?
“This sort of talk makes you nervous?” he asked, putting the watch back in his pocket.
“Now that you mention it, yes,” she said with a lopsided smile.
“Me too,” he said happily.
Dorcas giggled. “It does?”
“Of course. For all I know, you’d come out here, take one look at the room without a wall behind my shop and flee back to Denver. If the railroad was already in Noelle, I’d be in deep trouble.”
Dorcas suppressed a laugh. “It would take more than your back room to make me leave.”
