by Jo Noelle
“Your friendship and service are right welcome, Mr. Fontaine.” There was a hint of a giggle in Millie’s tone, and Hugh wondered if she was reacting to the increased male attention generally or to his specifically. “We’ll only make this stop today, but we’ll need to load a few items. May we impose on you that long?”
“I’ve concluded my business here as well. The day is yours.” Though he had an invitation to a card game that afternoon, he decided to send his regrets in favor of the opportunity to help with whatever the ladies needed.
Millie handed her list to the clerk, who set a youth about gathering the items to take to her wagon, and returned a bill of sale to her. Julianne also had a list. She stepped up to the wooden counter and passed it to the clerk.
He read the list and shook his head, occasionally mumbling to himself. He looked at Julianne and seemed to pause as he considered how to reject her business. “I’m afraid we don’t keep most of these here items on our shelves.” He extended the list back to her.
She didn’t lift her hand to receive it. “Could they be ordered from Denver or another city?”
A small crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “No. I wouldn’t know the cost of such items—books, slates, and whatnot. Since you don’t have credit here, I ain’t gonna risk ordering this pack of novelties that I can’t sell if’n you never show up to claim them.” The clerk extended the note higher.
“Well, I can pay you when they arrive. I have—”
Hugh realized that Julianne was far too trusting—a good quality, but one he didn’t want published around Creede. At the same moment that Millie grabbed Julianne around the wrist, Hugh said from over her shoulder, “Miss Parker has a school to open and will have goods to trade from the tuitions of the students later this fall. If you can’t wait for that, the schoolmarm may use my credit until then.” His eyes slid to Julianne, willing her to go along until he could explain. He turned so only she and Millie could see, then raised his eyebrows in encouragement.
Millie spoke up quickly. “Thank you for your generosity. You’ve been a true friend to me and the Reverend.” She also gave Julianne a meaningful look. “We accept.”
“You’ll order them?” Julianne asked the clerk,
The clerk nodded. He pulled a large, leather-bound book from under the counter and added Julianne’s items to the list.
Millie smiled at him. “We’ll have the school in the church-house in Bachelor. Please pass word along in town.”
“I will.”
After Hugh handed a note to the clerk as well, the small group stepped outside to watch Millie’s items being loaded into her wagon bed and moved to the side to wait.
In a low voice, Julianne said, “Mr. Fontaine, I could have put money on account. I appreciate your service, but I didn’t need you to intervene.”
Millie locked elbows with Julianne and patted her hand lovingly. Hugh watched the simple gesture, wishing he were at liberty to hold her hand to give comfort. “He saved your reputation, dear. The only women with silk dresses and ready money in this town earn it upstairs in the saloons.”
Hugh cringed inwardly. He was also grateful that Julianne never suspected the foul judgments nearly cast her way.
He added, “After you’ve been here a few months, you’ll be able to trade without attention from anyone.” He didn’t want to worry her, but thought she needed to know what kind of a town this was. “It also might be best…for a while…that folks think you have nothing they might want to steal.”
Understanding dawned on Julianne, slight blush lighting her cheeks. Hugh restrained himself from cupping her jaw. He loved that look on her. His imagination clearly wanted him to run his thumb over her lips, move his fingers across her cheek to feel the warmth of her blush.
He needed a quick change of topic. He cleared his throat. “I have a surprise to show you. I was going to bring it by the Bings’ home later, but now might be better.”
He reached into his pocket and found a nickel. “Willie.” He called to where the boy stood, leaning against Hugh’s wagon. “Watch the women’s wagon until we return.” He flipped the coin to the boy.
“Yes, Mr. Fontaine.”
Julianne and Millie joined Hugh for a walk down the street to the livery at the end of town.
“What’s Willie’s story?” Julianne asked.
Millie tipped her head to look past Julianne toward Hugh. “That’s a fine thing you do for the Meeks lad.” Then to Julianne she said, “Willie’s father died last year when a tunnel caved in. There were no survivors. His mother was expecting at the time, and poor, dear Nora fell to pieces, could hardly leave the old dugout they live in. Willie does what he can to help his family survive. He has three little sisters and a baby brother.”
“He’s the man of the house now. He earns his coin, willing to do any work he can,” Hugh added. He stopped before reaching the door to the stable and waved to the man on the boardwalk at the front. “We’re here to look at the buggy, Otto.”
Otto nodded and waved them to go around to the side of the building.
“Here we are.”
Julianne gasped softly beside Hugh. He could practically see questions race through her mind turning to excitement in her eyes. Her hand reached out to his forearm with a gentle squeeze. He’d noticed that little habit of hers the first time they’d met, and he’d longed for it since.
“Is that…” Without finishing the sentence, she turned her full attention on Hugh. “That’s my buggy, looking good as new and my horse eating hay in that stall.”
If he could see this look on her face every day…it took his breath away. Hugh could only nod in the affirmative. He resolved to think of more nice things to do for this woman.
“You did this. How?” Without waiting for his reply, Julianne approached the buggy, setting her hand on the wheel that had been replaced. The part of his arm she’d held cooled rapidly. He missed her touch already.
Hugh felt pride and bashfulness stir around in his chest. He cleared his throat but was unable to hold eye contact with Julianne. Too many thoughts about her vied for his attention when he did so, and none of them were the answer to her question. “After I dropped you off, I sent someone to fetch your rig and hunt down your horse, if it could be found.” His heart expanded. It felt satisfying to serve her. “The horse returned to the livery on its own, and your buggy has been repaired. You just need to decide if you’ll keep it or sell it.”
When he finished, he looked square at Julianne. She had a broad smile, and her eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. She reached for his hand this time. “Thank you, Hugh.” Her fingers tightened around his.
His name, whispered from her mouth, sent several rounds of lit gunpowder coursing through his veins. Completely without thinking, he raised her delicate hand to his lips and brushed a prolonged kiss across her knuckles. His eyes slipped shut to savor the feel. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his hand, quickening his own heartbeat. Lights danced behind his closed lids like shooting stars.
His brain raced ahead, imagining pulling her hand to his chest, capturing her lips with his own, his arms circling her waist. If he didn’t step back now, he might be responsible for publicly embarrassing her.
Never in his life had he kissed a woman’s hand, considering it an outlandish gesture. He held the slim fingers gently and stared at the smooth skin his lips had felt a moment ago.
Who would he have to be to be worthy of her? Without letting go, his eyes flicked up to hers, and the world around him slowly reappeared.
Millie fanned herself with the bill of sale. “That is lovely.” Then with a shaky voice added, “The buggy…I mean…of course…and your gift of repairing it.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Well, just lovely.”
Hugh welcomed the cool breeze blowing down the canyon and Millie’s interruption, not believing for one moment that Millie’s emotions were connected to the buggy, but he was happy to let her words cover his blunder. He wasn’t able to keep his wits ar
ound Julianne. It seemed that she accepted the fib as well as she quickly wiped at the corner of her own eye. Hugh hoped it was more about the kiss than the rig.
Julianne drew a cleansing breath. “I don’t know how to show my appreciation for all you have done for me.”
Hugh could think of a few ways, at least one involving her lips pressed to his. But he’d wait for that. He had a chance, a long shot, but still an opportunity to have this woman by his side in life if he played his cards right.
Over the shoulders of the two women, Hugh saw Archibald Grady tie his horse up in front of the Nugget Saloon. He paused, looking between the saloon and the livery a couple of times as if considering a choice. Then he crossed the street, his gaze fixed on Julianne, his feet moving quickly enough to kick up dust.
Millie spied the man too, and her eyes narrowed. She turned to Julianne. “It’s time we got back home. Quick now.” After the horse was harnessed, Julianne settled onto the seat of her repaired buggy, reins in hand.
Millie clambered up beside her. “Let’s go get my wagon and take our supplies home.” With her next breath, she nodded to Hugh and said, “You’ll come to supper tomorrow at sundown.”
Hugh considered that maybe he should cut his losses now. He knew that spending time with Julianne was playing too deep. Perhaps if he didn’t go around her, he would stop dreaming of her eyes and hair and soft curves. Blood pounded through his veins.
He knew he couldn’t give her up. She would have to send him away. Spending time with her could only end badly, but the temptation to sit with her for a family meal was too strong, and Millie’s question wasn’t really a question at all.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, grateful to the woman who had befriended Julianne, who accepted him in some measure.
Hugh hung back by the livery when Mr. Grady approached the women in case they needed him to get rid of the sidewinder.
Grady stopped beside the buggy and tipped his hat. “Morning, ladies.” His eyes slid to Hugh’s, then back to Julianne’s.
Hugh couldn’t see Julianne’s face, but he noticed her shoulders tense perceptibly, and he thought she slid back farther on the bench. He contrasted the welcome Julianne gave him with her reaction now, and gained a bit of confidence.
“Good to see you again so soon,” he said.
What? When did Archibald meet Julianne? That man should be beneath Julianne’s notice. Hugh felt a pop of jealousy burn in his chest. The man’s uncle was the owner of a few businesses including the Nugget Saloon, as well as one of the major mines in the area. Little Archie, as folks called him, frequented the saloon more than possibly necessary to check on business interests, and word was that it wasn’t the cards or drink that held his attention.
Grady’s thin lips pulled thinner into a toothy smile of sorts. “Might I take you ladies on a Sunday drive?”
Don’t do it, Julianne.
Julianne turned toward Millie, a little fear in her eyes. Millie answered, “Sorry, no. We’ll be busy with worship.” With what sounded like a chastisement, she added, “It’s the Lord’s day.”
Relief. Hugh felt hope, or something close to glee, that Julianne paused without answering Grady’s question. Hugh’s emotions nearly choked him. If she was interested in his attentions, she would have demurred Millie’s answer or offered another day as an alternative.
Even though she refused Little Archie, there was no promise that she would consider Hugh’s suit. He was familiar with the usual dismissal that followed when a woman learned his history. What started as regard and interest became suspicion and later revulsion. Caring fathers and brothers steered the young women quickly away from him.
That would happen. It would be terrible agony, but he would have a few memories to keep.
“Of course,” Grady said. “Would Monday be better?”
Archibald had directed his question to Julianne, but Millie sat taller with a starchy posture. “No, that’s wash day,” Millie answered in a strong voice. “We’ll be tuckered out for sure.” Then she smiled smoothly at Julianne. “Do you have sewing, soap making, mending, pie making, washing, or canning to do?”
Julianne answered sweetly, “Yes, I do.”
Millie patted Julianne’s leg and leaned across her to face Grady. “That means she’ll be busy all week. Good day to you.”
Julianne shook the lines, and the horse moved down the street to Millie’s wagon.
It was as if Millie had a six-shooter loaded with excuses and unloaded them all at Archie. Hugh ducked his head. He knew his shoulders shook with mirth, but it was all he could do to press his lips together at the humiliation she had shot out. If Little Archie were an intelligent man—which was doubtful—he’d give up.
A flash of silver caught Hugh’s eye. Across the street, the cowpoke approached Grady’s horse. He untied the reins and wrapped them around the saddle horn, then began leading the horse by the halter around in circles.
Hugh called out, pointing across the street, “Hey, Archie. Did your horse get into locoweed?”
At first, Grady regarded him with cold eyes, but when he noticed the crazed circling of his horse in the middle of the street, he ran to catch his steed. A few steps before Archibald could reach the reins, the cowpoke shot his rifle in the air, startling the animal, which bolted down the street. The cowboy doubled over with laughter, watching the dandy scramble after his horse.
Chapter 10
Julianne Parker
For the tenth time in so many minutes, Julianne stood, smoothed her dress, and then sat back down in the chair by the kitchen window. The sun leaned lazily atop the ridge of mountains to the west. Soon it would tumble behind them, and Hugh would be there. She lifted her hand and flicked her finger against her thumb as if to push the sun over the edge. Her stomach flipped like a schoolgirl’s at the thought of him arriving.
She had to admit it—she found much to appreciate in Mr. Fontaine. Foremost, he had a good heart. She liked his sandy brown hair and adored the spring-green color of his eyes. He was tall—she felt protected walking beside him.
Julianne had made a pie for dinner. In fact, she made several, either from anxious energy or a desire to have a perfect pie to please Hugh. What if he doesn’t like pie? Oh, bother. She pushed herself back into her chair and watched Millie.
Millie busied herself stirring the rabbit stew, setting the table, and cutting thick slices of warm bread. Callum lit two lanterns in the room and pulled an extra chair from where it hung on the wall. Julianne wished for the dozenth time that she could stay busy to make the waiting pass more quickly.
When horse hooves crunched over the gravel, Julianne shot out of her chair and peered through the window. Her stomach sparkled with excitement to see his wagon, remembering their first meeting. Well, it had been a dreadful day, but it improved greatly upon their meeting.
Julianne stood on her side of the door, waiting for Hugh to knock. When he did, she had to force herself not to throw it open, but took two deep breaths instead before pulling at the handle. The setting sun blazed behind Hugh’s back. With his hat in his hand, his hair gleamed like gold.
Reverend Bing cleared his throat. “Come in,” he called.
Both of them moved straight to the table. Hugh held her seat for her as she took her place. Her hands clasped tightly in her lap. If she let go, she was sure they’d shake, and sitting had been a good choice, considering the weakness in her knees.
Millie added, “Supper’s ready.”
Millie was serving stew as soon as Hugh dropped into his chair. “Best eat this while it’s hot.” She set out the bowls, a block of cheese, and a knife in the middle of the table then slipped into her seat. Julianne noticed that Hugh kept his eye on the reverend, seeming to anticipate saying grace.
Callum offered a prayer. As she opened her eyes, Julianne recognized the sign of the cross as Hugh gestured from his head to his chest and across each shoulder before lifting his head after “Amen.”
She hadn’t expected to see
such devotion. What upbringing might Hugh have had that made him conclude a prayer with such a personal sign of worship? Was there still faithfulness in his heart? For some reason, which she wasn’t willing to explore, his simple devotion caused a happy jump in her chest.
Dinner proceeded with little conversation. Hugh and Callum both commented on the stew. Julianne found that her thoughts were in a muddle, and she wasn’t able to settle on anything to offer.
After the meal, and the table was cleared, the ladies rejoined the men, and conversation followed polite topics—the town, the mines, the weather again.
Reverend Bing stood. “It’s feeling a bit nippy. Let’s move toward the heat.” The men moved the chairs across the room.
Although it was the beginning of the summer, nighttime in these mountains could still mimic winter’s grasp. A skiff of snow was on the ground that morning when Julianne went out to gather eggs. She settled into her chair and noticed that it was now beside Hugh’s.
Millie handed Julianne an embroidery hoop with a tea towel to decorate. Apparently, Millie believed as her mother did that idle hands were the workshop of the devil. Still, it was a relief to have something take her mind off Hugh’s proximity, as that caused her to heat up like the cookstove.
Julianne had lost a little of the conversation and pulled her attention back to it. It seemed they had referenced the coincidence of Hugh’s rescue of Julianne. She supposed the story had great value as anomalies went.
Without meeting Julianne’s eyes, Millie said, “Your father placed that ad in the Chicago paper at Callum’s request—the one that brought you here.”
“My father?” Julianne felt a growing unease. Callum knew her father? That might have been why the newspaper had been in her father’s study, folded to reveal the ad. Julianne commented hopefully, “I suppose it’s a small world when you’re a Presbyterian minister.”
