by Kit Morgan
He shuddered. No. Not for him. He’d wither and die like a seedling in a cave, unable to stretch toward the sunlight. No, a thousand times no.
Amon continued in a circle a while longer before he stopped, loosed the cinch of his saddle and pulled it off Manuel. He set it on a fence rail of the corral, then led Manuel to a nearby trough. He drank as Amon splashed water on his face in an effort to dispel the dreamlike state he often found himself in after one of his wild rides. He wiped water from his eyes, then waited for Manuel to finish. “Had enough?” he asked when the horse finally lifted his head from the trough.
The big roan-colored gelding, his steed for the last eight years, emitted a soft nicker in answer.
Amon scratched him between the ears and grinned. “That’s a good boy. Thanks for the run – I needed that.” He led Manuel to the barn, put him in a stall and proceeded to rub him down. He wondered if he’d asked too much of the horse this time. But Manuel was always faithful, giving his master every ounce of strength he had, and he’d given no less today. “I don’t deserve you,” he told the horse when he finished.
Manuel snorted in response, as if to say enough with the false modesty, old chum.
Amon laughed, then left the stall to get some hay for Manuel to munch on. By the time he was done, Colin and Harrison Cooke had ridden up. Great, Amon thought. Am I going to have to go through this all over again?
“Amon Cotter!” Harrison called out.
Amon let his shoulders drop, left the barn and approached them. “You found me. Again.”
“You left in a great hurry,” Colin commented dryly. “Was it something we said?”
Harrison glared at him then returned his attention to Amon. “I must confess, we’re both curious as to your answer to our … offer.”
Amon put his hands on hips and looked up at them. “There’s nothing to be curious about, gentlemen. I’m sorry, but I have no interest in marriage. That’s what you asked me, isn’t it?” He scratched his ear. “At least that’s what I thought you asked.”
“It was,” Colin told him. “It’s your answer we’re having trouble with. Most men around here would jump at the chance to have a wife.”
Amon shrugged. “Most,” he emphasized.
“Yes,” Harrison agreed as he dismounted. “It’s that you’re so decisive about it that has us confused.”
“It’s certainly not the norm,” Colin quipped as he reached the ground.
“I don’t know what else to tell you, gentlemen,” Amon said. “I simply have no desire to marry.”
“But why?” Harrison asked, truly perplexed.
Amon held his hands out in a helpless gesture. “Why should I?”
“Desire is usually the operative word in things like this,” Colin pointed out. He glanced quickly at Harrison whose eyes widened ever so slightly. “Do you mean to tell us you’ve never thought of marriage?”
“I’ve thought of it. I’ve also thought of being caught in a cave by a mountain lion. That doesn’t mean I wish it to happen.”
“Well … that’s certainly a, um, picturesque reaction,” Harrison said, brows raised. “Any man would run to marry a beautiful young woman. And this one’s English, to boot!”
“Another cousin of yours, I take it,” Amon replied with a smile.
“Distant cousin,” Colin was quick to point out. “But nonetheless, beautiful, smart and … and …”
“And you picked me,” Amon finished for him.
“We thought you the best match for her,” Harrison explained.
“Me? Surely there are others more suited to your relative than I am?” Surely anyone would be, he thought to himself.
“None that Belle and Sadie could think of,” Colin explained. “We’re just the messengers, you see.”
Amon’s smile broadened. “Ah yes, your wives the matchmakers.”
“Won’t you even have a look at her?” Harrison asked.
Amon shook his head and sighed. “Gentlemen, I’ve given you my answer.”
Colin scratched his head in confusion and looked helplessly at his brother. “He seems quite adamant. I guess we’ll just have to ask Belle and Sadie who’s next on the list.”
“I’m glad there’s a list,” Amon said. “I wouldn’t want your cousin to be deprived on my account.” Or vice-versa.
“Yes,” Harrison said flatly. “But you were at the top.”
“An unfortunate error,” Amon chuckled. “But I’m happy it can be easily corrected.” He turned and headed back to the barn.
“Amon, wait!” Colin called after him.
Amon stopped, turned and waited for Colin to catch up to him. But he made no attempt to hide his impatience. Why couldn’t they just leave him be?
“I have other business to discuss with you – aside from my wife’s matchmaking attempts.”
“The cradle for your child? Yes, I know – I’m already preparing for it.”
“You are?”
“Of course. I made one for Harrison and Sadie’s baby. I knew you’d want one as well. I’ve picked out the tree – that’s what I was doing out there when you found me.”
“Splendid!” Colin said and slapped him on the back. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished. In the meantime, we’ll speak with Belle and Sadie and inform them of your answer.”
Harrison joined them. “You’re sure, then? We can’t change your mind?”
Amon forced a laugh. It wouldn’t do to yell at them – they meant no harm. “You can’t, no. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“You can’t blame us for trying,” Colin said with a shrug. “After all, we’ve been in this matchmaking business for a while now. Six brides to date!”
“And now a seventh,” Amon said. “You might as well open your own mail-order bridal service.”
“I don’t know about that,” Colin said with a laugh. “I think we’re running more of a mail-order groom service if you ask me.”
“I wish you luck with it,” Amon told them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do in the barn.”
Colin and Harrison nodded, tipped their hats, mounted up and left. “Well,” Colin said as they trotted their horses down the road. “That went horribly.”
“At least Amon was pleasant about it. Or not angry. We did press him too hard, didn’t we?”
“Perhaps,” Colin conceded. “But not compared to how hard Sadie and Belle will press us when we return and tell them.”
“True – they aren’t going to be happy,” Harrison mused. “They had their hearts set on Amon for Nettie. Now what are we going to do?”
“See who’s next on the list, what else?”
“Only … I’m not sure if there was anyone else on their list.”
“What?! What do you mean?”
“I mean that our wives had their hearts set on dear Mr. Cotter. They never dreamed he’d say no. But then, neither did I.”
“Yes, very odd that. What man around here would do such a thing?”
“What man, indeed,” Harrison said, his brow furrowed in thought. “Perhaps we should have a talk with Cyrus. He hired Amon, after all. He probably knows his background.”
“Yes, Cyrus is thorough that way,” Colin agreed. “But I don’t see how that helps us now, other than satisfy our curiosity.” He sighed. “I dare say, if we did have women in this town, our Mr. Cotter would be considered the most eligible bachelor of the lot.”
“Yes – handsome, polite, a fine craftsman. He could easily open his own furniture shop somewhere.”
“Maybe that’s it,” Colin said. “Maybe he plans on going back to Oregon City, or south to San Francisco or Sacramento. He could make a good living there with his skills.”
“You’re quite right, that must be it. Perhaps he’s just not ready to tell anyone yet that he plans to leave.”
“But what’s wrong with taking a wife with him when he does?” Colin asked, not ready to give up.
Harrison shook his head. “I have no idea. M
aybe he thinks it’s too much trouble to take a woman along with him. Or he just doesn’t want to pull one away from her family up here.”
“That does sound like Amon, doesn’t it?” Colin sighed again. “Too bad. I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it except go back and tell the women.”
“Indeed,” Harrison replied. “God help us.”
* * *
“No? What do you mean he said no?” Sadie lamented.
“He not only said no,” Harrison told her. “But he made sure we understood it as a definite, permanent no.”
“A definite, permanent no?” Belle echoed as she gaped at him. “Is he mad?”
Colin gave her a half-hearted shrug. “Perhaps. But he’s also quite sure.”
Sadie’s eyes widened as she leaned against the counter of the mercantile. They agreed to meet the men there and have lunch with Irene and Wilfred Dunnigan before the ladies’ sewing circle commenced. Thankfully, the Dunnigans were both still upstairs, or Irene would be putting her two cents into the situation. Eloise had already sent word that Nettie would join them that afternoon. The last thing Sadie or Belle wanted to do was to disappoint the girl – or, given Irene Dunnigan’s personality, upset her. “And here I thought it would be a fine time to tell her we found her a husband. Now what am I going to do?”
“Find her another,” Harrison suggested. “What else?”
“But I don’t know who!”
“It can’t be that hard to choose,” Colin said. “There are plenty of other men in this town wanting to wed.”
“Yes, I know,” Sadie agreed. “But Amon is … different.”
“To say the least,” Harrison muttered with a shake of his head. He looked at his wife. “Perhaps too different. Besides, we think he might be planning on leaving Clear Creek, and that’s why he doesn’t want to marry here. He’ll probably choose a wife wherever he settles.”
“I haven’t heard anything about him leaving,” Belle said. “Uncle Wilfred knows everything that goes on around here – he would’ve told me.”
“Yes that’s true,” Harrison said and began to pace. “But Amon doesn’t come to town too often, not since the hotel was finished. Most of his woodworking he does at the men’s camp.”
“That explains it,” Colin said with a happy smile. “He’s not had the chance to come to town and give Wilfred any rumors to spread around!”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Uncle Wilfred is not that bad.”
“Yes, he is, though it’s all right,” Sadie assured her. “And then there’s Fanny Fig – if she caught wind of it, it’d be everywhere.”
“Well, things are as they are,” Harrison said. “And you two will just have to make the best of it, I’m afraid. Oh, but I warn you, Jasper told us that Clinton Moresy is back in town.”
“Yes! And he’s bathed!” Colin added with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh dear me,” Sadie said. “He’ll be at the ranch wanting an audience with Nettie, won’t he?”
“She’s not ready for that,” Belle said. “I know it. Besides, she’s not staying at the Triple-C.”
“How do you know?” Colin asked. “The part about her not being ready?”
“A woman can tell these things. She’s very frightened, Colin, and very hurt.”
“Whatever for?” he asked.
“Her father is Thackary Holmes,” Harrison pointed out. “You have to ask?”
“Oh, quite. Does she want to marry at all, then?”
“She does – that’s why Duncan sent her here,” Sadie said. “So we’ll see the job done. But Amon really was the best choice. Of course we wouldn’t expect her to marry him right away – we’d want them to court, naturally. Amon has a gentleness that I thought would suit Nettie. He’d be patient with her.”
“Yes,” Belle agreed. “With what she’s been through, she needs that.”
“Then you’ll definitely want to keep Clinton away from her,” Colin told them.
“Belle and I will leave that to you two,” Sadie said with a smile.
“Us?!” Harrison exclaimed. “How are we supposed to keep him away from her?”
“Let alone keep all the other men in town away?” Colin added. “Other than whomever you choose.”
“I’m sure the two of you will think of something,” Sadie assured them.
“Well, we can’t very well watch him day in and day out, dear wife,” Harrison griped.
“I’m afraid he’s right,” Colin said. “We do have a ranch to run, remember?”
“Maybe if you put Clinton to work for you, you’d keep a better eye on him,” Belle suggested.
“Not a chance,” Harrison said firmly. “Clinton Moresy is no ranch hand.”
“All right, but I can guarantee you he’s going to show up,” Sadie said just as firmly.
Colin groaned and looked at his brother. “She’s right, you know. Clinton will be beating the door down the first chance he gets.”
“Either that or he’ll be at the hotel doing the same thing,” Belle said. “And I don’t think her brother will take kindly to that.”
“Well, this is a fine mess,” Colin said with a sarcastic smile. “Any way we can let dear Cousin Newton handle things?”
“We don’t know him well enough,” Harrison argued. “He might shoot Clinton.”
“He’ll do nothing of the kind,” Colin stated. “Newton Whitman may be the son of Thackary Holmes, but as I understand it, he’s never even seen the man. I’m sure he’s a gentleman.”
“Duncan’s letter said he was something akin to a stable boy,” Harrison pointed out, one eyebrow raised.
“Stable master,” Colin corrected. “More like Logan Kincaid than a street urchin, I’d imagine.”
“The unfortunate fact is that we know almost nothing of our distant cousins,” Harrison said. “Something we should remedy.”
“Belle and I will start with Nettie,” Sadie told him. “In fact, it’s almost time for the sewing circle to meet, so you two had best scoot.”
“You’re quite right, dear wife, as always.” Harrison kissed her on the cheek, then turned to Colin. “Shall we be off, then?”
Colin went to Belle and kissed her as well. “Until tonight, beautiful one,” he said and bowed.
Belle giggled and gave him a playful shove. “Oh, get out of here!”
Colin and Harrison gazed at their wives, bowed as one and left the mercantile to the sound of Belle and Sadie’s giggles.
Three
“… and this is Fanny Fig,” Sadie concluded with a smile.
Nettie sat in the circle, full of trepidation. Maybe she was imagining things, but she swore everyone looked at her as if she were an oddity in a curiosity shop. She had to fight the urge to wipe her sweating palms on the skirt of her dress. Of course, if they weren’t staring at her, they were staring at Newton, who had planted himself near the front counter. He and the shopkeeper, Wilfred, spoke in low tones as the women prepared to get down to business.
“You joined our wee group just in time,” Mary Mulligan the saloon owner’s wife said. “We’re ready to start a new project.”
“Oh?” Nettie acknowledged. “What might that be?”
“You have to ask?” Mary said with a giggle. “Your wedding dress, of course!”
Nettie blanched and swallowed hard.
“I think Miss Whitman could use some time to adjust to her new surroundings,” Sadie said diplomatically. “And I’m sure she and her intended will want to court.”
“Yes,” agreed Constance Jones, Ryder Jones’s wife. “Some courting is usually a good thing. Take it from me.”
Nettie fought to find her voice. “You … you courted a long time then?”
“She didn’t court at all,” Eloise chimed in. “That’s how she knows.”
“And what about you?” Nettie asked, her voice emotionless. Well, at least she was talking to them.
“Me?” Eloise said and pointed to herself. “Seth and I courted for a few weeks.”
Nettie looked at each in turn. She was related to them and to the three sitting across from her … what were their names again? Lena, Fina and … Apple?! She’d only heard stories about them from her mother, and was meeting them for the first time. She glanced at the oldest, Imogene, a middle-aged woman who sat and scrutinized Nettie as if she were an insect pinned on a board. She sat straighter in response. “Is there something else your group can work on other than …” Nettie gulped. “… a wedding dress for me?”
“A wedding quilt,” Irene Dunnigan said, looking annoyed. “You’ll need one of those.”
Nettie sighed as she saw the look on the woman’s face. “Perhaps something that has nothing to do with my wedding. After all, we don’t know when that will be. I’ve not yet met my intended.”
“That don’t matter around here,” said an old woman – Mrs. Waller the doctor’s wife, though everyone called her Grandma. “Land sakes, child, we all know you’re gonna get hitched. It’s only a matter of time, and these are things you’ll need regardless.” She looked around the circle. “We’ll start with the quilt, then move onto her dress.”
“Who made you boss, Grandma?” Fanny asked. “Maybe we ought to sew something for Belle’s baby.”
“Miss Whitman will be getting married long before the baby comes. We should take care of her first,” Belle suggested.
Nettie watched and listened as the circle of women, one by one, nodded their agreement. They started chatting about this and that. She made it a point to only speak when spoken to, usually to answer questions about her favorite colors or what flowers she liked. Obviously they were gathering information to make the wedding quilt. She’d imagined it would be done in white, but apparently that wasn't the case.
Before she knew it, several women raided a shelf containing bolts of fabric, and Mrs. Dunnigan went behind the front counter to measure it out. Other women talked about what they had at home to contribute, and soon, much to Nettie's relief, the meeting was over.
It was then, however, that the real interrogation began. “Do you like it here?” Apple asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.
