Table of Contents
Sweeten the Swindler
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Sweeten the Swindler
Brides of Blessings: Book 5
DALLIS ADAMS
Copyright © 2018 Dallis Adams
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All Rights Reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This eBook is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidences are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Any and all errors are my own, although I did take some of that special leeway called "fictional license."
Chapter One
Blessings, California
Fall, 1851
"Looks like Maxine Sweeten just got another box of chocolates from a hopeful suitor."
At Atherton Winslett's comment, Jake Stark glanced over the top of a ten-day-old-copy of the San Francisco Tribune he'd been only half-reading to see Miss Sweeten crossing the Main Street of Blessings, carrying a brown paper-covered box under her arm. The light spring breeze rustled the straw bonnet she wore, one that was decorated with blue ribbon and lace that matched the dusky-blue-and-white checkers in the fabric of her dress. Her dress clung to her tiny waist only to flare out over her hips.
Although she was small— maybe a couple of inches over five feet— she had all the right curves. The pink brought out the coral color in her high cheekbones and seemed to emphasize her lips. Her long thick hair was parted down the middle to form pigtails, the long ends curling against her bodice. Richly dark, the luscious strands complemented her milk and cream complexion as did the deep-mahogany color of her eyes.
A tasty package she made.
"You mean another box of chocolates from a hopeless suitor," Ed Mosier— owner of the only mercantile in town—replied before moving a pawn on the chessboard that sat on a wooden barrel between him and Atherton Winslett.
With a row of ladder-back chairs sitting on the boardwalk in front of Carl's Cuts, the barbershop seemed to be the place to go if a person wanted to hear the town's gossips. Who knew the tongue wagglers would be a bunch of men? Nothing seemed to get by Winslett.
The man's long white hair and matching beard reminded Jake of a professor he'd once met on a gambling steamboat traveling up the Mississippi River. But when Winslett smiled, the missing teeth negated the scholarly look. Even so, Jake had a feeling the icon of Blessings was wiser than he appeared.
Miss Sweeten called out to a boy of perhaps nine years of age, talked with him and then held out the rectangular shallow box she'd been carrying under her arm, the pink bow on the package lopsided and crushed-looking. With a grin, the lad accepted the offer, ran down the street, only to disappear through the trees that lined the road that led to Pasley Miner's Hats. Jake gritted his teeth, then forced himself to relax.
"What a waste," Mosier exclaimed. "Who gave her that one?"
Atherton Winslett watched the exchange, his fingers rubbing his chin. "I'm guessin' Bart Frister since I saw him with the box this mornin'. The boy is love-struck. I think that's the third set he's given her. They all end up at Pasley's."
"Either Roxanne Boone is going to have to quit making the chocolates, or somebody's gonna have to shoot the poor fool."
"Ed, now I know you don't mean that," Winslett admonished.
Mosier hefted a sigh. "I just don't want to see him hurt. Has anybody told Bart she's not keeping the chocolate for herself?" Ed Mosier shook his head, making his brown hair swish. "What woman doesn't like chocolate?"
"She doesn't," Winslett replied as he moved a rook across the board. "Like chocolate, that is. And yes, she told him she doesn't like the candy and was givin' them to customers. Too, she told him she wasn't interested in him that way."
Interesting. In Jake's experience, women tended to string men along to get what they wanted.
"So," Winslett continued, "you can't fault her. She's honest with Bart. The other day I heard her tell him no candy, don't waist his money because she considered him more like an older brother."
Ouch. Jake winced for the poor wretch.
"But when she offered to return them to him, Bart refused to take them back. The lovesick dunce was agreeable to her idea of settin' them out to as a welcoming gift to all the customers at Pasley's. But I don't think Bart knows what else to do."
Jake watched Miss Sweeten walk into Coco's Chapeaus, a shop with a handsome display of women's hats in all shapes, colors and sizes.
"No imagination, that Bart." With another sigh, Mosier shrugged and then moved another chess piece.
Right. Jake needed to use his imagination, to outsmart any other would-be beaus in town—which shouldn't be difficult since he considered himself quite clever. Yes, he planned on wooing Maxine Sweeten, enough so she would be clay in his hands. Because she was the means to his revenge.
Mosier rested his fingers on top of his knight, then decided against the move he was obviously considering. Then he moved his other rook. "You gotta admire her, though. She's not afraid to speak her mind."
Winslett countered his friend's move by taking his friend's bishop with his knight. "Talk about Maxine speakin' her mind. Did you see her lay into that trapper early last week? She found the beaver trap the hunter had set and managed to rescue the critter. Splint the beaver's leg. Even gave it a small dose of laudanum for its pain."
"Where is she keeping the animal?"
"In the shed behind the miner's hats factory."
So. Maxine Sweeten loved animals. In particular, she had a soft spot for wounded animals. An idea started to form in his mind.
Winslett took his opponent's knight. "But let me finish my story."
"Alright. Go on. Your story is more interesting than this chess game I'm losing anyway."
Winslett chuckled. "She confronted him in front of the blacksmith's. When the trapper discovered it was her what stole his pelt, I thought he was gonna bust a vein in his neck. I had to intervene to protect the poor girl, although in retrospect she held her own. Got in a few good whacks with her parasol when the degenerate tried to hit her. By that time Worley Bodman had retrieved Pasley."
Geary Pasley. The man who had murdered Jake's brother and stole his brother's idea for making revolutionary miner hats. Earlier he'd learned that Bodman was Pasley's supervisor at the factory. The man was arrogant, a bully. And frankly, he was surprised the Bodman allowed Bart to give Maxine chocolates. But it was probably because Bodman knew Miss Sweeten wasn't interested in Bart in a romantic way.
"Ol' Geary had to appease the trapper with cash comparable to the price of a beaver pelt." Winslett stopped talking for a moment as he made another move on the chessboard. "And he weren't too happy about it neither."
"Nope, I imagine he wasn't. But that was smart of her uncle to pay the trapper off. Maxine's love of animals is down-right peculiar."
The praise for Jake's nemesis sent cold pricks of ice slithering down his back. The man was a snake, a murderer. If he couldn't prove it, then he would retaliate in other ways. He would take away everything the murdering swine loved, including his money, and his reputation. And he would start by taking beloved niece.
"Well, that's it for me. Good game," Mosier stated and stood with a stretch. "I better get back to the mercantile."
"I'll see you later." Winslett got up and moved to a chair next to Jake. "So, Jake. I see those wheels spinnin'."
"Oh?"
"Don't think I haven't noticed your interest in our Maxine. What would the scout for Whisper Railroad do if he were interested in courtin' somebody like Maxine Sweeten?"
A prickling sensation stabbed him between the shoulder blades over the lie he'd told Winslett when he'd first arrived in Blessings ten days ago. There was no Whisper Railroad. It was a shell company that he and a couple of acquaintances —one being a banker— had set up last year. But he hardened his resolve against the founder's gregarious nature and kind brown eyes. Winslett was honest. He wouldn't appreciate Jake's plans, even if planning Geary Pasley's downfall was justified. Winslett was too protective of Blessings citizens. "What would I do? I know what I wouldn't do. Give her a box of chocolates."
Atherton Winslett let out a big belly laugh. "So you were payin' attention."
"That I was," he agreed with a slight smile. "An introduction from the founder of Blessings, California would be a start."
Atherton tilted his head, his gaze intent. "So. You truly are intrigued with our Maxine."
"Yes," Jake replied to the statement, purposely keeping his response short.
Winslett studied him with that gaze of his that seemed to see right into his very soul. "You seem like a good man, Jake Stark. Maybe a little lost. Maybe a little rough around the edges. Maybe with a few secrets you aren't willin' to share ... yet. But I trust you, which is why I'm gonna introduce you to a very special woman."
He resisted the urge to swallow against a dry throat. Instead, he forced the corner of his mouth to lift in what he hoped looked like a wry smile. "Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence," he replied and hoped that God wouldn't strike him down where he stood. But he had to do this. He had to set things right.
"Ah, here she comes."
He glanced toward Coco's Chapeaus and saw Miss Sweeten as she closed the milliner's front door.
"Follow me." Winslett motioned Jake to follow.
Jake squared his shoulders. He supposed that to meet her by being introduced by the most respected man in town would only further his cause.
BUTTERFLIES ERUPTED in Maxine's stomach when she saw Atherton approaching with the good-looking stranger in tow. In tow? No, on second thought, the stranger could never be a follower. He seemed too independent, and much too dangerous to be in tow of anybody.
Wearing a cream-colored shirt under a dark waistcoat that emphasized those broad shoulders, and that trim waist, he prowled toward her. The way those powerful leg muscles bunched and relaxed beneath trousers that seemed too snug made his movements sleek, smooth— like the panther she'd seen a month ago that lived in the Sierra Nevada mountains close to town.
Off and on throughout the week, she'd seen him around town. Sometimes she'd felt like a rabbit being watched by the feline predator, which was silly.
Get hold of yourself, Maxie.
Maybe it was because she'd never seen a man of his ilk in town before.
"Good afternoon, Maxine." Atherton stopped in front of her and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.
She ignored the stranger. Perhaps that was rude, but she had to regain her equilibrium before the inevitable introduction that she was sure Atherton was going to make. Because as of this moment she wasn't certain if her voice or her words would come out right if she looked at him. So she took a deep breath, and turned to give the town founder a warm smile. "Good afternoon to you too, Atherton."
"I'd like you to meet Jake Stark from Whisper Railroad in San Francisco. Jake, this is Maxine Sweeten, as sugary as her surname."
Those bright, predator-like eyes pierced hers. "How do you do, ma'am."
Before she knew what he planned to do, he reached down to grasp her hand in his strong one. Then he bent to kiss her fingers. She nearly gasped as his warm breath caressed her hand. His lips felt soft but firm— if that made any sense— as they brushed over her knuckles. The intimacy of the act had her toes curling, her face heating and tiny sparks tingling the tips of her ears—a reaction she'd never before experienced. She felt awkward, inept, and totally out of her depth. He was nothing like the men— who were really more like boys compared to him— that she knew in Blessings. "How do you do, Mr. Stark."
To her utter relief, she didn't sound breathless, nor did her voice squeak. Of course not.
Then it hit her. San Francisco? That high falutin' city, where city slickers resided.
Who did he think he was, kissing her hand like that? Did he think she would salivate all over him? She knew better than to swoon over a man's flowery manners. Oh, she understood all about con artists and their courtly, highly polished behavior that could lure a rabbit to their snare. That's what happened to poor, sweet Mary Price. The young woman's former betrothed was from San Francisco. And he managed to swindle all of her hard-earned money, leaving her not only heart-broken but destitute. Mary had been forced to move in with her parents who lived in the nearby town of Calderon.
As Jake Stark's gaze met hers, she realized he had the most unique silvery-blue eyes she'd ever seen. They were almost like looking into a mirror but without the reflection. With his high cheekbones, his wonderfully straight nose and a firm jaw line, he was possibly the finest-looking man she'd met in a long while, maybe in forever. Even the thin, white scar that cut horizontally through his left brow didn't detract from his ruggedly fine looks.
"What brings you to Blessings, Mr. Stark?"
"I'm a surveyor for Whisper Railroad," he replied with a smile.
"Oh?" She hadn't heard of Whisper Railroad, or any plans to bring the railroad so close to Blessings. "Where are you surveying?"
"East from Carson City, Nevada through the Sierra Nevada mountains to San Francisco. Since Blessings is in the vicinity, I'm surveying here to find the best place to branch off to Sacramento."
"To be absolutely honest with you, Mr. Stark, I've never heard of Whisper Railroad."
He gave her a cool look. "We are new to the business, in fact the first railroad company in California since its induction to the United States."
"Well, bully for you, sir." Yes, she sounded haughty. But she couldn't help it. Since Mary's demise had popped in her head, she couldn't shake the feeling that this Whisper Railroad was a sham, and that there was another reason Mr. Jake Stark was in town. "Now, I must return to the shop. My uncle is expecting me."
"May I see your recovering beaver?" Mr. Stark blurted as she took a step away from him. "I don't believe I've ever seen a beaver before."
She halted abruptly. "Ah, Atherton must have told you about the sweet creature. Cypress returned to his home last night."
"Cypress?"
"Yes," she replied with a sudden grin. "He loved the inside bark of the cypress tree, thus his name. Good day, Mr. Stark."
Even though she treated him with a cool abruptness, she sensed he wouldn't be so easily discouraged.
Now why on Earth did that notion secretly thrill her?
Chapter Two
Jake stood about five miles east of San Francisco, midst a sea of colorful wooden gypsy caravans and carnival tents at Cojocaru's Traveling Medicine Show and a wave of nostalgia swept over him. Everything was brighter than he remembered, but somehow faded. Washed out. When he studied the nearest caravan, he saw the worn foot board and the chipped paint on the ribbed siding and waist board.
; Four years ago, after his brother, David, had died, he'd spent nearly three years with Cojocaru's Traveling Medicine Show. Jake's world had shaken him to its very core. He'd searched for the best card sharp he could find to teach him not only to spot a conman, but to become an expert himself. That was when he'd met Theo Caper in an Alameda saloon. Theo had somehow recognized Jake's grief and had taken him under his wing to teach him the unsavory trade of a conman.
For the umpteenth time, he wondered why he hadn't been able to make himself seek out the Gusty family— his and David's adopted family. The clan who had been his and his baby brother's salvation after the death of their parents. Although they had grown apart, he knew the family deserved to know what happened to David.
Jake had become a confidence man— and the Gustys would not approve. Because the Gustys represented respectability. Honesty. And that wasn't what Jake had needed to pull himself together so he could figure out what to do to pick up the pieces. That wasn't what he'd needed to get revenge— which was Jake's new goal in life.
But that wasn't the only reason he hadn't visited them. It was because he felt ashamed for letting David down. For not remaining in Magia to protect David. Overwhelming guilt made it impossible to look them in the eyes. If he hadn't dragged David away, his brother would have been surrounded by the loving Gusty family. He would have married his childhood sweetheart, Frieda Gusty. David would still be alive.
After their parents had drowned in Lake Tahoe, Jake and his brother, David, had wandered the forest for days. If the caravan of homesteaders from the east, traveling to find new lives on the west coast, hadn't come across them, he didn't know if he and his brother would have survived. The Gusty family offered the Stark boys a home in Yuba City, which was about sixty miles southeast of the farm his parents had purchased but had never gotten to see.
For the umpteenth time, he wondered if he had made a mistake when he'd dragged David away from the Gusty family to start their lives on the farm their parents had purchased. David had been close to the Gusty's daughter, Frieda Gusty. He'd had a rapport with Frieda's father, Gerald Gusty, since David worked at the mill and had made improvements on the equipment.
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