Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico

by Lena Nelson Dooley

  “You have my solemn promise not to divulge a word, Miss Mercer.” The sheriff turned and glanced up at Jeremiah. “And I’m sure Mr. Dennison will give his promise as well.”

  Jeremiah stared straight into her eyes and gave a stiff nod, a hint of a smile raising one corner of his mouth.

  “I understood Mr. Johnstone was just an employee of my father’s until my father died. Then Mr. Johnstone came to the house to tell me that he was Father’s partner.” She looked everywhere but at Horace Johnstone. Even at Jeremiah, who listened attentively. “I couldn’t understand why Father would make him a partner. I’ve never felt comfortable around the man. He told me Father made some bad business investments, and most of our money is gone. We barely received enough money each month to cover essentials. I had to let most of the staff go. Only Frank and Sarah stayed on. They’ve been with me all my life. They’re like members of my family.”

  The sheriff scowled at Mr. Johnstone, then turned a smile toward Maddy. She felt better all the time. Stronger somehow.

  “Then Mr. Johnstone announced that Father promised I would marry him. I knew Father wouldn’t do that without consulting me. But Mr. Johnstone was persistent, inviting himself to our house for meals and treating Frank and Sarah with contempt. He gave me a deadline for our marriage, without giving me a choice…and without giving me the proper time to grieve my father’s death.”

  Jeremiah shifted position. “What about your father’s will, Madeline?”

  That was the first time she’d heard him say her name without rancor. The word slid from his tongue straight into her heart. No one had ever given it the same inflection. She wished she had more time to analyze it.

  “That’s just the thing. Mr. Sanderson, Father’s solicitor, took months and still hadn’t read the will for me. And then Loraine died after making me promise to take Pearl as my own daughter.”

  For the first time, things started falling into place in Jeremiah’s mind. But who was Loraine? He’d have to ask Madeline later.

  Evidently, Pearl really was an orphan, but she was also Madeline’s child. So much began to make sense. He smiled at Madeline, but she didn’t notice.

  “When Mr. Johnstone came to the house and realized that Pearl was living there, he gave me an ultimatum about giving her away. He told me that if I didn’t, he’d take care of getting rid of her. Neither Frank and Sarah nor myself would consider letting him follow through on his threat. We were sure he meant to do her harm.” Tears welled in Madeline’s eyes, then one trickled down her cheek. Jeremiah wished he were close enough to wipe it off for her. “I couldn’t take a chance on that happening.”

  Just then Frank and Sarah Sneed walked through the doorway to the lobby. Jeremiah studied the pair with new eyes. Knowing everything Madeline had told them made him admire the couple.

  “Everything Miss Madeline said is true.” Frank took up a protective position beside Madeline. “I’d done some checking around the taverns in Boston to see what I could find out about this man, and all of it was bad. Lots of talk about people coming up missing after crossing him. Even a hint that maybe he’d had something to do with the death of Mr. Mercer. We couldn’t let him hurt Miss Madeline or Pearl, so we helped her slip out of Boston.”

  Madeline sat up straighter. “That’s right.” She stared boldly at the interloper. “So, Mr. Johnstone, how did you find me here?”

  The man crossed his arms and sneered. “I don’t have to tell you a thing, Miss High-and-mighty. I said you couldn’t get away from me. You should’ve listened. Then we wouldn’t be out here in this godforsaken place.”

  Jeremiah wanted to use the man as a punching bag. He’d seen a few bare-knuckle boxing matches when he’d traveled farther east a time or two. Seemed like a just punishment for part of what the man did to Madeline. But he had to be a criminal too. Maybe there would be an arrest today, but at least it wouldn’t be the beautiful woman sitting there holding a baby she’d probably rescued from being put in an orphanage.

  Jeremiah hated that he’d misjudged her so much. But that opened up all sorts of other problems in his mind. How could he restrain himself and keep from coming between Philip and Madeline? They weren’t right for each other, and they shouldn’t marry. Surely there was another option for her. Like me. That thought slipped into his mind before he could close the door on it. And it sounded just right to him.

  Maddy winced at the harsh words Horace said but continued to stare him down.

  “I believe the lady asked you a question.” The sheriff’s voice held the weight of strong authority. “I suggest you answer her.” One hand lifted to rest on the butt of his gun.

  Evidently Mr. Johnstone noticed too, because he became very talkative. “I convinced the stupid lawyer that you hadn’t been seen for a while and something might have happened at the house. Maybe all of you had caught some dread disease and were dead or something. Only then would he unlock the door of the mansion and let me in. I hadn’t ever been on the upper floors. Quite a fancy layout. I’ll really enjoy living there.”

  Maddy made a face. “Just getting inside the house wouldn’t tell you where we were.”

  “No, but this did.” He reached into his pocket and extracted an opened letter.

  Jeremiah stared at it. Maddy wondered what about the missive fascinated the man so much.

  “Let me see that.” Determination firmed Jeremiah’s jaw until it looked like carved marble.

  Why would Jeremiah want to see the letter?

  Mr. Johnstone started to stuff it back into his pocket, but Jeremiah grabbed the man’s wrist. He squeezed it so tight that Mr. Johnstone released the envelope.

  Jeremiah turned it over and over, then speared her with his gaze. “This is the last letter Philip and I wrote to you—the one you never got. That’s how he knew to come to Golden.”

  Maddy covered her mouth with one hand. Now what?

  The sheriff stood. He grabbed Johnstone’s arm, lifted him from the chair, and snapped handcuffs around the man’s wrists. “Johnstone, you’re under arrest. I’m not sure what all the charges will be, but I do know that it’s against the law to open other people’s mail. And you were rifling through my desk, which is also against the law. I might have quite a few other things to charge you with as well.”

  Horace Johnstone’s face turned beet red, and he looked about to explode. “You can’t do this to me. I came out here of my own free will, and I’ll get what I came for. Didn’t you listen to a thing I said? You don’t believe me, but you didn’t even ask her to show you the pictures she claims to have. What’s fair about that?”

  “Should I add resisting arrest to the list?” The sheriff quirked one eyebrow, then turned toward Maddy. “This man won’t bother you again, Miss Mercer. I’ll see to that. He’ll be in jail until the territorial judge comes around. Could be at least a couple of months.”

  He marched the man out the door, but Jeremiah didn’t follow.

  Pearl picked this time to let out a wail. Maddy arose from the sofa, patting the baby’s back.

  Sarah reached for the infant. “Madeline, I’ll take her and start feeding her.”

  Caroline jumped up. “I’ll help you fix the bottle.”

  The two women quickly exited together, and Frank followed them.

  Maddy stood there, trying to decide what to do. Jeremiah hadn’t moved. The silence between them expanded like the rising bread dough she was learning to bake, filling the room. Nothing but the rhythmic thump of the stamping machines broke the silence. Funny how Maddy hardly ever noticed the sound anymore, but today it matched the beating of her pulse. She placed a hand on her throat to hide the throb.

  “Madeline.” Her name from his lips once again affected her equilibrium. She dropped onto the sofa and sat on the edge, her knees and feet together and her back straight.

  “I must apologize to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if it hurt him. “I misjudged you.” He paused, and she didn’t feel any inclination to fill the space wit
h words. “I said things that hurt you, and I’m sorry. Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

  The way he stood there with his hat in his hands touched her heart. It must be hard for a strong man like him to speak those words. What else could she say?

  “Yes, Mr. Dennison, I can forgive you. Forgiving is what Christians do.”

  A slow smile crept across his face, bringing a light to his eyes she had never seen before. “Thank you, Madeline. Could you call me Jeremiah?”

  She hesitated. Should she take that step? Did she want to be more than an acquaintance with this man?

  “Yes, Jeremiah.” She liked the way his name felt on her tongue, almost as if it belonged there.

  He stared at her before pivoting and leaving the room.

  This softer, kinder Jeremiah Dennison would be a different man to deal with. After the way he’d treated her, Pearl, and Philip during the sandstorm, and now with his apology, she was in danger of losing her heart to the man. And she couldn’t afford to do that.

  Philip had asked her to marry him. If she accepted his proposition, she’d be seeing even more of Jeremiah. And she couldn’t do that either. She didn’t dare let her heart become entangled with a man who didn’t know and love her Savior. Somehow she’d have to figure out a way to treat him as a man she respected and nothing more. She’d have to rethink her future in Golden. Make all the pieces fit in a way that didn’t hurt Philip, Pearl, or herself.

  Did Jeremiah Dennison fit in that picture anywhere? She didn’t think so.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  As Jeremiah’s boots hit the boardwalk in front of the hotel, he glanced toward the sheriff’s office. Bill struggled with Johnstone, but he finally shoved the man through the open doorway of his office, and Jeremiah figured he got the man into a cell.

  Maybe he should go see if his friend needed any help. Striding down the cobblestone street, he flexed his hands. He’d been gripping them so hard to keep from reaching out and touching Madeline that they ached. What he’d wanted more than anything would’ve been to take her in his arms and comfort her. Even finger her dark brown curls to see if they felt like silk as he imagined. The next best thing would be to make sure her tormentor stayed behind bars until the judge arrived. Judge Barker could be held up a long time. At least Jeremiah hoped so. The territory was large, and sometime lawlessness reigned in various places, although this area from Albuquerque to Santa Fe had settled down. Usually Bill was able to keep the peace in Golden, but not always.

  Jeremiah wanted Johnstone to rot in jail and worry about what was going to happen. The man didn’t deserve anything better. When the judge did come, Jeremiah planned to be present for the trial to make sure the weasel suffered for the crimes he’d committed against Madeline.

  A vision he’d tucked away stole into his mind—Madeline stepping from the train, like a mirage in the New Mexico sun. Her beauty had overwhelmed him before he knew who she was. All brightness and light in an otherwise dismal day. Although beauty was often skin-deep, as his mother had told him when he was a little boy, Madeline had a good heart and sweet spirit. Why had he allowed himself to be blinded to that fact?

  He should have recognized it from the start instead of judging her as he did. He hated to admit that even to himself. But if people had made that kind of mistake about him, he’d have been angry. Would’ve had a hard time forgiving them. After that sermon Sam preached, Jeremiah’s judgmental attitude hadn’t let him rest. He was truly sorry for the way he’d treated her.

  Why had he let Philip’s ad for the mail-order bride get in his way of accepting her when she first came? Of course, that had to be it, didn’t it?

  Admit it, Jeremiah. You’re jealous of Philip. Of his old friend’s claim to the beautiful woman. And jealousy did ugly things in his mind. It took a man and twisted his gut until he was tied in knots so tight, they hardly ever came apart. At least, that’s what had happened to Jeremiah. Why had he allowed it? He wished he knew. And more than anything, he wanted to be rid of those knots.

  His muscles clenched so tight, the ache returned to his stomach. His anger at himself matched what he felt for the stranger who’d forced Madeline to run from the only home she’d ever known. Although Jeremiah hadn’t treated her quite as badly—except for those words she overheard at Philip’s house that day—he wasn’t much better than that skunk Johnstone.

  When Jeremiah finally reached the doorway to the sheriff’s office, Bill was sitting behind his desk. Johnstone, behind bars and slumped on the hard, narrow bed, was sulking—his eyes like fire.

  “I see you got him into a cell.” Jeremiah moved into the coolness and pulled off his hat, then rubbed the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. “How soon do you think Judge Barker’ll get here?”

  Bill crossed his arms and leaned on the top of his desk. “Well, it hasn’t been long since he left. Might take several weeks. Depends on whether he has a trial somewhere else. Could have more than one trial. Hard to tell.”

  With each phrase the sheriff uttered, the prisoner sounded more agitated. Jeremiah couldn’t understand how Bill could ignore the muttering coming from the man.

  “Guess that means the town’ll have to feed Johnstone for a while.” Jeremiah was all for feeding him bread and water.

  Bill nodded. “Like always, the Oldmans’ll bring meals to him. I figure it’ll be Sam most of the time.”

  “Probably. Wouldn’t want Caroline to have to.”

  “Hey, I’m hungry now.”

  The growl from the direction of the cells sailed right past Jeremiah. He wasn’t about to give Johnstone the satisfaction of knowing he heard. “You going to have to hire a deputy to stay here during the night?”

  “Sure will.” Bill leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Thought I’d get Swede to come by and let me go home to the missus most nights.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Jeremiah dropped into the chair across the desk from his friend. “If you need any of my ranch hands, I can send one to town. Let me know.”

  “All right. Might just do that. Not sure Swede’ll want to do it every night.”

  The bed creaked, and Jeremiah heard Johnstone’s shoes scuff across the rock floor. “When am I going to get something to eat?” The harsh words were loud enough that anyone nearby on the street could hear them.

  Bill stood and stared at the man. “Might as well settle down. You’ll get to eat when the food comes and not a minute before. All your bellerin’ won’t change a thing.”

  “Got a question for you.” Jeremiah rested his arms on his thighs, clasping his hands between his knees. “You know who Loraine is? The one Madeline mentioned awhile ago?”

  Something slapped against the bars, and Jeremiah turned to look at the prisoner, who now clasped his hands around the steel rods enclosing him.

  “I know who she was.” Contempt dripped from every word. “Some no-account piece of trash, living out in shanty town. Miss Do Gooder just had to help her and ended up saddled with her kid. If she hadn’t run away, I’d have taken care of the brat.”

  Remembering the sweet weight of little Pearl when she rested on his chest during the dust storm, Jeremiah jumped up and headed toward the cell. He’d reach between the bars with his fists and teach the man a lesson.

  “Don’t do anything stupid. He’s not worth it.”

  The sheriff’s icy tone sliced through Jeremiah’s anger, and he stopped in his tracks. He wanted Johnstone to suffer for what he’d done to Madeline and her daughter, but maybe the judge should get here soon, before Jeremiah completely lost his temper with the scoundrel.

  As he turned back toward Bill, he forced his hands out of the fists they’d formed. “I’ll mosey on up to see Philip before I return to the ranch. Got a question or two to ask him.”

  Mosey wasn’t exactly what he did. In his anger, his pace increased until his breaths came harder than usual. Arriving on Philip’s front porch, Jeremiah took a minute to control his breathing and flex his aching hands.


  “That you, Jerry?”

  With his thoughts in turmoil, Jeremiah hadn’t even noticed Philip stepping into the open doorway.

  “Come on in here.” Philip turned back toward his rocking chair. “Somethin’ sure is eatin’ at ya. What’s on yer mind?”

  Jeremiah swept his hat from his head and followed his old friend inside. “Lots of things.”

  “Well, spit ’em out. Got plenty a-time to listen.” He dropped into the cushioned seat and set the chair in motion, the familiar squeak bringing a degree of comfort to Jeremiah.

  He hung his hat on a hook beside the door but didn’t sit down. He could think better on his feet. His strides measured the distance to the window opening toward the west. On the other side of the vast expanse of scattered trees, desert, and sagebrush, mountains rose toward the sky. He studied the jagged line drawn by the peaks. A different world existed out there on the horizon. Maybe even more of the gold that had made their town thrive, but its siren call didn’t affect Jeremiah. He’d had all of the mining he wanted. Ranching fit him better. He did thank the gold for paying for the ranch, though.

  He could hear Philip’s chair creaking against the floor, but his friend gave him plenty of time to gather his thoughts. When he turned back toward Philip, the old miner’s eyes held a warm expression that showed acceptance of whatever Jeremiah had to tell him. A man didn’t have many friends like that in his lifetime. Jeremiah was glad he’d found his.

  “I’m not sure how to start.” He scratched his head. “You know I haven’t been too keen on Miss Mercer since she came.”

  “I did notice a time er two.” Philip shook his shaggy head. “But not always.”

  “That’s been a problem.” Jeremiah stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I was afraid she was just a gold digger, coming out here to fleece you out of your money.”