Dorcas: An Independence Day Bride (Brides of Noelle Book 6)

by Kit Morgan

  “Think so.” Elwood did his best to elbow into the crowd. Dorcas clung to his hand, not wanting to be separated from him for a moment. He was her lifeline and she needed more of him. She’d been trying to deal with her feelings of loss on her own, not thinking to let Elwood comfort her as he just had.

  “… and then, the varmints tried to pull of my boots and one of the idiots fell into the fire!” came a man’s gravelly voice.

  The miners burst into laughter.

  “Then the shooting started,” he went on. “But not before another one landed in the hot coals and caught his pants on fire. Another tried to put his pants out with a mug full of their pa’s whiskey. Well, that didn’t work …”

  More laughter, including Elwood’s. Dorcas saw Sheriff Draven off to one side, leaning against a post, a wry smile on his face. She didn’t think she’d seen him smile before. She turned back to the storyteller sitting at the table.

  “So let this be a lesson to all of you – don’t mess with a man who forgot to put on his socks!”

  Dorcas had no idea what the full story was, but could see the effect it was having on the audience. This was the mean, tough sheriff everyone was afraid of?

  Elwood finally broke through and Dorcas was able to get a good look at the man. He was shorter than average, with thinning salt and pepper hair, bulging brown eyes and a week’s scraggly beard – he looked more like a derelict than a U.S. Marshal. To top it off, his left eye wandered to one side, reminding her of a dog she saw running through the neighborhood when she was a child. She didn’t know what caused such a thing, but it frightened her on the dog. On this man, it looked comical.

  “Marshal Gant?” Elwood said.

  The marshal looked at him with his good eye and smiled. “What can I do for you, son?”

  “I’m Elwood Hunter. I’m the man you’re here to see.”

  “Oh, you’re the writer! Well, I’ve got a few stories for you.” The miners laughed.

  “I’m sure you do,” Elwood replied. “And can’t wait to hear them.”

  The marshal got to his feet and left the table. “Where should we set to flapping our gums?”

  “How about my shop? It’s not far from here.”

  “Fine, fine.” He caught sight of Dorcas just behind Elwood, holding his hand. “And who do we have here? She the missus?”

  Elwood pulled her close, his hands on her shoulders. “My …”

  “No, she is NOT!” a shrill voice sounded from the saloon doors. “I’M his fiancée!”

  Elwood turned with the rest, and Dorcas heard his breath catch. “Gertrude?”

  “Yes, you four-flusher!”

  Dorcas twisted around to look at Elwood, no easy feat as she was wedged between his body and a miner’s. “Who is that?”

  “Oh blast,” he sighed.

  “Elwood? Who is that?”

  “I’ll tell you who I am!” the woman snapped as she fought her way through the crowd. “I’m Gertrude Van Housen – his REAL betrothed!”

  Dorcas’ stomach knotted. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me!” The woman spun toward the doors. “Lucas, Herman, Jake, here he is! I found him!”

  Everyone watched three well-dressed men all try to get through the doors at once. They stumbled the last few steps, righted themselves, then glared at Elwood. “Elwood Hunter!” one cried in a voice that sounded like it had barely escaped adolescence. “We’re here to defend our sister’s honor!”

  Everyone turned to stare at Elwood, who stared back. “It is not what you think,” he declared.

  “Oh yes it is!” Gertrude cried. “It’s every BIT what they’re thinking, you cad!”

  Elwood glared at Gertrude. “No, it most certainly isn’t.”

  “Elwood?” Dorcas heard herself say. “Is she really …?”

  “Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Gertrude screeched

  “Simply put, dear, she … is my Vernon Fink,” Elwood explained. “But without the forcing into corners.” He released Dorcas’ hand and headed toward the three men.

  She tried to follow him, but someone grabbed her arm. “Best let him go, missy,” Marshal Gant warned. “This looks like a fight.”

  Dorcas swallowed hard. “But Marshal …”

  “Unless you’re really good at boxing or rassling, ma’am, best let them have it out.” He pulled her toward the table.

  The three men gathered around Elwood. “Elwood Hunter, you’ve crossed our family for the last time,” one said.

  “Last time? I’ve never crossed any of you in my life!”

  “Leaving our sister at the altar, I’d say is crossing us,” another said.

  “Leave her at the altar? We were never even engaged! Besides, you three live with her! Don’t you think you’d know if there was a wedding?”

  “That’s BESIDE the point,” Gertrude spat. “You left without a WORD!”

  Dorcas watched the exchange, her heart sinking to her toes. Just what they needed – two Vernon Finks.

  “I left because I was planning to leave anyway. I wanted no part of my father’s scheme and you know it.”

  “How could I when you never talked to me?” she yelled back.

  Two of the men grabbed Elwood by the arms and began to pull him toward the doors. “What are you doing? Unhand me!”

  “Oh, don’t worry, we will,” one of the men said. “As soon as we find us a tree and a rope.”

  Chapter 11

  To Dorcas’ surprise, no one tried to stop the three men from hauling off Elwood to be lynched. Sheriff Draven didn’t turn a hair. A crowd gathered around the scene, but they looked more fascinated than concerned. She turned to Marshal Gant. “Don’t just sit there!”

  “Don’t worry, little lady. I’ll handle this!” The marshal began to shove his way through the onlookers.

  Dorcas followed. Why hadn’t Elwood told her he was fleeing an unwanted marriage as well? (Though, she realized, he had hinted at it when he said he understood how she felt.) Was he hiding out in Noelle to avoid marriage to the woman? Her own situation had her ridden with guilt, frightened and confused. So why didn’t he say something, spell it out, before today? Her heart hammered in her chest, her anger rising. If the three men struggling to drag Elwood away didn’t kill him, she might.

  “Desist!” Gant bellowed over the ruckus.

  That brought action. Several miners moved to block the doors. Everyone else froze at the sound of a gunshot. “That’s enough,” Draven said as he reholstered his gun. “You three, release that man.”

  “Now!” Marshal Gant added, his eyes bulging more than ever.

  The trio let go of Elwood and stepped back. “He’s ours, sheriff,” the squeaky-voiced one said. “You can’t take him from us.”

  Gant held up his badge. “Tell me again what I can’t do.”

  The man wisely didn’t.

  “Now then,” the marshal continued, turning to Elwood. “Son, do these folks have just cause?”

  “No!” he replied, just as Gertrude cried, “Yes!”

  Gant looked at Draven. “You want to weigh in on this? I’d rather not step on your jurisdiction.”

  Draven rolled his one good eye. “You’re a U.S. Marshal. Since these folks seem to be from out of state, I’ll let ya handle it.”

  “With pleasure.” Marshal Gant tugged on his coat. “You three, outside! You too, Mr. Hunter. Let’s get this straightened out. Without resorting to ropes and trees.”

  Dorcas began to follow, but this time Draven stopped her. “Leave ‘em be for now, Miss Minx.”

  “Oh for Heaven’s sake, not you too.”

  “It’s for the best. I’ve seen the look of a jilted woman before. She’ll yell and scream, get it out of her system, then leave. Let Elwood handle this his own way.”

  “But he …”

  “Trust me.”

  Dorcas stared at the sheriff, her mouth hanging open. “But he lied!”

  Sheriff Draven glanced at the crowd exiting the
saloon to watch the fun. “I dunno as he did. He don’t seem the type. Give the man a chance to explain himself ‘fore ya decide.”

  “But after all the agony I had over telling him about … about …”

  “Why you left Denver?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  Draven shrugged. “Yer a mail-order bride. Ain’t the first, won’t be the last. But don’t worry – I trust the marshal to sort this out peaceably. Ya can iron things out with Elwood once them fellas have dealt with Bad Luck Chuck.”

  Dorcas’ face screwed up in confusion. “Who?”

  Draven smiled. “Let’s go watch, Miss Minx. Ya’ll see what I mean.”

  Dorcas shook her head in confusion, looked back at the now-empty saloon, then followed Draven out the doors.

  Outside the argument was heated, all three of the strange men talking at the marshal at once. Elwood stood to the side scowling, his arms folded. The woman looked smug, as if she’d already won whatever it was they were arguing about.

  “… And then he left our sister, just like that!” one of the men cried.

  “And broke poor Gertrude’s heart!” another added.

  “So we came to set things right,” cried the squeaky third. “Where’s the preacher!”

  “Calm down!” Marshal Gant finally shouted over them. They did. “So your parents had an arranged marriage between this man, Elwood Hunter, and your sister, is that right?”

  “Yes!” they said at once.

  “Hm.” The marshal rubbed his chin a few times as he turned to Elwood. “Well, what have you got to say for yourself?”

  “That part’s true.”

  Dorcas gasped. Elwood glanced at her, then turned back to Marshal Gant.

  The marshal looked at Gertrude. “And you feel like he owes you?”

  “Of COURSE he does!” she screeched. “He has no IDEA the situation he put me in! All the emBARRassment and ridicule I’ve suffered at his careless hands!”

  Elwood rolled his eyes. “I did no such thing.”

  “You left without a WORD!” she shot back.

  “I left before anything happened, before you and I ever spoke a word about it.”

  Gertrude glared at him. “You left because of HER!” she spat, pointing at Dorcas.

  Now everyone looked at Dorcas. She found she didn’t like the feeling.

  “No, actually, I left because of him.” Elwood pointed at Sheriff Draven. “But, Marshal, I was told you’d be a much better – and more willing – inspiration for my book.”

  “True enough,” Draven added.

  The marshal smiled. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “This is riDICulous!” Gertrude screeched. She turned to her brothers. “Do something!”

  “Um, I think our hands are tied here, Gertie,” one said.

  “How can you SAY that after what he DID to me?”

  “You told us the two of you spoke,” the squeaky one replied. “You said …”

  “Never MIND what I said! He’s done our family WRONG!”

  Marshal Gant began to chuckle. “Well, the only wrong I see is you four disturbing this man’s peace and quiet. As long as you cease and desist right now, I won’t charge you with anything. Case dismissed!”

  “WAIT a minute!” Gertrude yelped. “You’re no JUDGE!”

  His Vernon Fink, indeed, Dorcas thought. She doesn’t need to corner anyone with her body – she can do it with her voice. Does she always speak at the level of a speeding locomotive?

  “No, but the one that comes through here would tell you the same thing. I’m just saving him a lot of trouble and time.”

  She glared daggers at him before turning to Elwood. “You’re desPICable! Coming out here for this TROLLOP!” She marched over to Dorcas and slapped her in the face.

  Elwood was between them before she could retaliate. “Gertrude,” he said through clenched teeth, “kindly leave.”

  “NO!”

  “Now.”

  “Why, so you can ruin THIS woman’s life too?”

  “Coming from someone who just slapped me, I find your concern for me unlikely,” Dorcas muttered.

  Gertrude looked her up and down. “You’re obviously not of MY social standing, but let me give you a piece of adVICE. This man is a CAD and you should have NOTHING to do with him. In fact, I think I’ll do the SAME.” She turned to her brothers. “Let’s go, boys.”

  “Go? Just like that?” one of them said. “But Gertie, we came all this way – maybe the two of you could …”

  “I said, let’s GO!”

  The three glanced at each other, shrugged and began to leave.

  “Wait!” Elwood snapped. “Gertie Van Housen, get back here and apologize!”

  Gertrude turned to face him. “HA! I don’t believe I WILL. After what YOU did to me, I’d call us even.”

  He guided Dorcas behind him as Gertrude’s brothers gathered around her. “Apologize.”

  She smirked. “NO.” She stomped away, her brothers surrounding her like a queen’s guard.

  Elwood took a deep breath, let it out slowly and turned to Dorcas. “I am so sorry.”

  She stared at him, unable to think. “So am I,” she replied and walked away.

  As soon as she reached the safe confines of her room, she fell onto the bed and waited for the tears to fall. But she didn’t have any. She felt numb, used and wasn’t sure at this point what to think. Elwood had told her he was falling in love with her. Was this Gertrude telling the truth? Could she believe Elwood at this point? After all, there were two sides to every story …

  A knock on the door, then it flew open. “Dorcas! Are you all right?”

  She glanced at Daphne, then buried her face in a pillow. “No.”

  Daphne sat on the bed. “What happened? Walker and I were coming from Cobb’s Penn when we saw everyone gathered in the street. Who were those people?”

  Dorcas turned onto her back to look at her. “Elwood’s betrothed. Or so she says. And her brothers, defending her honor after Elwood left her.” She turned back over and buried her face in the pillow again.

  “Betrothed? How could he be betrothed? He’s going to marry you.”

  “Someone didn’t tell Gertrude that.”

  “Gertrude – that’s her name?”

  “Yes. But she and her three brothers, whatever their names are, are leaving now. She decided slapping me made everything square.”

  “She slapped you?!”

  Dorcas turned over and sat up. “But I was so angry at the time, I hardly felt it. If anything it woke me up.”

  Daphne hugged her. “I’m so sorry this happened. Wait, what do you mean, woke you up?”

  “I’ve been lying to myself, Daph. This whole mail-order bride business was a mistake. Elwood’s not the man I thought he was … and I’m not much better. At least I finally told him about Vernon – he never told me about her.”

  Daphne put an arm around her. “All right, so these people are upset with him …”

  “They wanted to hang him, but Marshal Gant put a stop to it.”

  Daphne’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my. Well, no wonder they’re leaving town.”

  “I probably should too –”

  “Don’t say that. You need to talk to him.”

  “About what? That he lied?”

  “But he didn’t lie, did he?”

  “He didn’t tell me. And after all the time I spent agonizing over telling him about Vernon.” She fell back onto the mattress. “I feel like such a fool.”

  Daphne sighed. “Be that as it may, you’re still marrying him next week.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Dorcas …”

  “Daph, I said no.”

  Daphne sighed again and stood. “Very well, if I can’t talk any sense into you, maybe you’ll do it yourself.”

  “The only thing I’m going to talk myself into is how to leave town.”

  “You’re being childish.”

/>   “You’re being unrealistic!”

  Daphne stared at her a moment, and Dorcas knew she’d just crossed the line. “I’m going home. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned and marched out the door.

  Now Dorcas felt more miserable than ever. How did her wonderful day turn into this nightmare? And what was she going to do about it?

  Elwood paced the shop, his back stiff with anger and regret. He’d lost his temper – he hated when that happened. Truth was, he would’ve liked to drag Gertrude to the nearest horse trough and toss her in. She was being her usual selfish, cantankerous, harpy self – exactly why he’d left Boston in such a rush. “Thank the Lord I did.”

  But now there was a bigger problem: Dorcas.

  He needed to speak with her and clear things up, but he wanted to think first lest he say something stupid. His mouth had a tendency not to work well – or much at all – when he was riled, and he was so livid over Gertrude’s treatment of he and Dorcas that he’d almost come unhinged. The last time that happened, he’d left Boston …

  “Can I come in?”

  Elwood spun around at the sound of Dorcas’ voice. “Of course.” Her eyes were red and swollen – she’d been crying, and it was his fault. “Dorcas …”

  She held up a hand, stopping him in mid-stride. “Don’t say anything. Let me speak.”

  He froze, fighting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. His gut twisted at the blank look on her face.

  “I’m leaving town, Elwood.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Yes, as soon as I can. This isn’t going to work.”

  “Dorcas, let me explain …”

  “No. I explained things to you, and you told me everything would be fine, that we’d be all right, then I find out that all this time …”

  “Gertrude Van Housen means nothing to me,” he cut in. “She never has.”

  “You still should’ve told me about her.”

  “I didn’t think it would ever be … relevant. I was leaving Boston anyway, and she didn’t matter to me …”

  Her face changed – he could tell she was listening – but her voice was steel-cold. “It looks like you mattered to her. Why else would she and her brothers come all this way?”

  She had a point. He turned to the counter, picked up a random book and put it on a shelf. “She’s obsessive, always has been. And more than a little crazy. She liked torturing insects –”