Corsets and Cuffs: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 3)

by Shanna Hatfield

  Thane worked to hide a grin, but not before Brianna caught sight of it. “Oh, I wouldn’t say Tully is loathsome. Once you get to know him, he’s not such a bad guy and a handy fellow to have around if you run into trouble. Tully’s saved my neck more times than I want to count.”

  Brianna rode in silence for a few minutes before she looked at Thane. “How long have you known Sheriff Barrett?”

  “Since I was sixteen. Tully and I were both orphans. We met on the way to Texas but ended up traveling with a wagon train here to Oregon. Maggie MacGregor and her first husband were our traveling partners. When Daniel died in a mining accident, Tully and I did our best to help Maggie. We’re both happy for her to find love again with Ian.”

  “Has she been a widow long?”

  “More than ten years,” Thane said, guiding his horse past a burnt stump and down a little-used trail.

  “Ten years is a long time to mourn a spouse.” Brianna thought of all the years her father had mourned her mother’s death. She’d only been five when her mother passed away from some wretched illness that ate away at her until there was nothing left of the vibrant woman. Twenty-one years later, her father had still missed her mother every single day.

  “It is, but I think I’d mourn beyond a lifetime if something happened to my Jemma.” Thane turned in the saddle and glanced back to make sure Brianna made it down the steep trail without any problem.

  She offered him a reassuring nod. “I greatly look forward to meeting your wife, and Mrs. MacGregor. I’ve heard nothing but good comments about them both.”

  Thane smiled. “They both are fine, fine women. I’m sure Jemma will look forward to meeting you, too. Perhaps you’d like to join us for lunch after church on Sunday. We often eat at the dining room at Hotel Warshauer after the church service.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely. I’m staying at the hotel, although if I’m going to spend too much more time in town, I may need to seek out a less expensive alternative.”

  “If you’re planning to stay more than a week or two, talk to Maggie and Ian when they return. There’s a recently vacated apartment above her dress shop.”

  Thrilled by this tidbit of news, Brianna would make a point to seek out Mrs. MacGregor as soon as the woman returned from her honeymoon trip.

  Brianna was about to offer a comment when a shot kicked up dirt a few feet in front of them. Although his horse reared, Thane kept the big stallion under control. Whether Thane’s presence or that of the other horse calmed her mount, Brianna was glad the horse didn’t bolt again. It merely shied to the left a few steps.

  “Clive, it’s Thane Jordan! Put that gun down and come out here.” Thane cupped his hands around his mouth so his voice carried farther.

  Brianna watched as a grizzled old man who looked half-demented shuffled out of a ramshackle building into the open, holding a rifle in one hand and a pickaxe in the other. Her dreams of having a luxurious home to stay in while she was in the area crashed around her.

  “Thane! What in the…” The old man glared at Brianna. “What sort of disease have you dragged up the mountain?”

  “No disease, Clive. Miss Dumont is the daughter of your business partner. She came all the way to Baker City to check on her father’s holdings.”

  “You’re George’s girl?” The old man dropped the pickaxe and shaded his eyes as he scowled at Brianna.

  “Yes, sir.” Brianna rode up beside Thane, hoping he’d stay long enough to make sure the old man didn’t shoot her.

  When the miner turned and shuffled toward the shack, Thane motioned for her to follow him. “You’ll be fine, Miss Dumont. Clive’s bark is worse than his bite. Can you find your way back to town?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jordan. I made note of the trail and will be able to return without further assistance. Thank you so much for your help.” Brianna smiled at the man then urged the horse forward, following Clive.

  “Take care, Clive, and stay out of trouble,” Thane called then turned and rode up the trail.

  Brianna slid off the horse and followed the miner to his shack. She tied the reins around a sturdy post.

  Clive frowned at her as he stood in the doorway. “I ain’t got no use for women, even if your father seems like a good man. Why didn’t he come instead of sendin’ you?”

  “My father was recently murdered. I didn’t even know about your mine until I was going through his papers. From the letters the two of you exchanged, it seemed he held great hope for your claim being prosperous. I understand Father maintained a forty percent share of ownership in the mine.”

  “He did, and I reckon with his death, the ownership passes to you, much as it galls me to think of a sharin’ my mine with a woman.” Clive spit a stream of tobacco that landed only a few inches away from Brianna. She did her best not to wrinkle her nose.

  Suddenly, the breeze changed direction. A stench, a revolting cross between a rotting corpse and something left to ferment far too long, blew in her face. Disgusted, she realized the smell came from Clive.

  His clothes were so filthy the fabric hinted that it might stand upright, even if he wasn’t wearing them. Although his hair wasn’t long, it looked as though he’d whacked it off with a dull knife as it stuck up this way and that around his head.

  Convinced she could see bugs crawling in his hair, she took a step back, hoping none of them tried to jump onto her.

  “I’m right sorry to hear about your father, Miss Dumont, but you traipsed all the way out here for nothin’.” Clive stomped inside the house and slammed the door.

  Brianna hid her surprise the entire building didn’t collapse around him, so ramshackle was its state.

  “Mr. Fisher? Mr. Fisher! I insist we discuss matters. If you have no desire to collaborate with a woman, I’m more than happy to sell my father’s shares back to you. Would that be a satisfactory arrangement?”

  The sound of muttering and banging around followed by a string of cursing made her turn her back to the cabin and cover her ears.

  Unless a bear or a wolf jumped out at her, prepared to eat her alive, nothing else would have driven her to set foot inside Clive Fisher’s humble abode. Just when she was ready to give up and try talking to him another day, he opened the door and strode outside.

  He handed her a cup of steaming coffee and motioned to two stumps set by a circle of rocks ringing a pile of ashes. While Brianna settled her skirts on one of the stumps and took a small sip of the coffee, he built up the fire, pausing in his work to look at her and grumble every so often.

  When a warm fire blazed with cheery welcome, Clive took a sip of his coffee and settled onto the other stump.

  “I don’t like women, missy, and I don’t like anyone pokin’ and proddin’ in my business, but your father was an honest and fair man. Out of respect to him, I’ll shoot straight with you.”

  Brianna tried not to squirm when Clive fixed his narrowed gaze on her. His pale blue eyes looked like murky water had frozen in a lake devoid of color. Gray stubble sprouted on his face, although he didn’t have a beard.

  Stooped as he was, the old man was barely taller than she was. As he sat beside her, sipping coffee and casting furtive glances her direction, she concluded Thane Jordan was correct. Clive Fisher was harmless.

  “Thank you for building a fire. It’s cooler up here in the mountains than I expected.” Brianna smiled at him and took another tiny sip from her cup, trying not to think about dirt or bugs, or the stout flavor of the drink.

  “Looks like you took a dunkin’ on your way here. Horse get away from you?” Clive didn’t look at her as he talked, but he grinned into his cup.

  “As a matter a fact, an animal scared me and spooked the horse. He managed to unseat me in a creek that was as cold as any water I’ve ever felt. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Jordan’s fortuitous arrival, I’d still be on foot, trying to find the horse.”

  “That’s what you get for ridin’ one of those death contraptions.” Clive pointed to the sidesaddle. “Right there
is a perfect example of why women are nothin’ but troublesome nuisances. They don’t use their noggins when it comes to just about every single decision that rolls down the road. I got no use for the stupid rules of society and propriety.” Clive crooked his pinky finger in the air as he took a loud slurp of his coffee. “It’s all a bunch of nonsense. Most females ain’t got nothin’ between their pretty little ears besides a bunch of air and ridiculous expectations.”

  “Well, I’m glad we got all that out of the way,” Brianna said, setting down the cup and holding her hands out to the fire. “Now that you’ve established I’m too dumb to understand anything about this business, I’d like to know how much the mine is producing and examine the facility.”

  “Now, just hold on to your skirts, missy. Nobody goes in the mine but me, and I ain’t of a mind to tell you a thing. How do I know you’re really George’s girl?”

  Brianna pulled a locket from beneath the neck of her blouse and opened it. She laid it on her palm and held it out toward the old man. “That’s a photo of my father and mother on their wedding day.”

  Clive whistled, but with a missing front tooth, the sound came out more like the mating call of a deranged bird. “Girlie, you look just like your mama. She was a very beautiful woman.”

  “Thank you.” Brianna stared at the photo, proud that she bore a strong resemblance to her mother.

  Clive pointed to the locket. “Your father sent me a photo of himself so I’d know what he looked like if he ever ventured out to visit the mine. That’s him in the picture, even though he was younger there.”

  “So we’ve established that I am Brianna Dumont, daughter of George Dumont. Now may I see the mine?”

  “No.” Clive took another sip of his coffee. “The thing is, missy, the mine hasn’t done very well the last few years. Your father knew that and told me in his last letter to keep workin’ at it.”

  “If you were to pay me for Father’s share of the profits today, what would it total?” Brianna watched as Clive disappeared inside his shack. More banging ensued before he eventually reappeared with a little glass jar and handed it to Brianna.

  “There’s about forty dollars worth of gold in that jar and that’s your father’s share.”

  “Forty dollars? Oh, surely you jest, Mr. Fisher. Why, from the letters you and Father exchanged, it sounded as if you both expected this to be a profitable mine. If that is true…” Brianna rattled off figures and facts from research she’d done about the gold mining business.

  The old man’s jaw dropped open and he gawked at her. “Well, I take that back. There might be one woman alive whose head isn’t completely full of ridiculous nonsense.” He stood and motioned for Brianna to follow him.

  Much to her surprise, he gave her a tour of the mine and answered her numerous questions. To Brianna’s relief, they returned to the stumps near the fire and Clive threw another chunk of wood on the coals. Her clothes had almost dried and she’d almost warmed up from her dunking in the creek, but not completely.

  “Why are you really here, missy?” Clive asked, drinking from his cup of cold coffee.

  “Father owed a great deal of money to a very powerful man upon his death. By coming here, I hoped I could sell his portion of the mine, pay his debts, and restore his good name.” The starch went out of Brianna’s spine. “I suppose I’ll have to figure out another means of acquiring the funds.”

  “Well, girlie, don’t go losin’ all hope in the Felicity. Not yet.”

  Brianna stared at Clive as a slow grin spread across her face. “A man who hates women named his mine Felicity? How is that possible?”

  “That’s a story for another day.” Clive stood and pointed to the sky. “There’s a storm brewin’ and if you want to beat it back to town, you better get. If you stick around for a few weeks, I’ll see what I can do to come up with some money to buy back your father’s shares.”

  “I appreciate your help and concern, Mr. Fisher, but don’t go to any bother on my account. I’m sure I’ll see you again before I leave Baker City.”

  “Most likely, girlie. Be careful ridin’ back to town. Do you need me to come with you?” Clive took a few steps toward a corral that looked like it might disintegrate if anyone touched it. A mule brayed and stuck its head over a rotting pole.

  “Thank you for that kind offer, but I can find my way back to town.” Brianna led the horse over to a stump and climbed into the saddle. She settled her skirts and gave Clive Fisher a parting glance. “I extend my gratitude to you, Mr. Fisher, for your hospitality and tour of the mine.”

  “Just be careful and don’t get lost. The last place you want to be is out here on the mountain in the dark, especially a woman as pretty as you.” Clive waved as she headed up the trail.

  Brianna kept watch for any animals as she rode toward the main trail. When she reached it without incident, she released a sigh and headed back down the mountain.

  With a rare day off to do as he pleased, Tully spent it repairing a section of fence on his twenty acres at the edge of town. After lunch, he removed the barn door that had been busted for a few weeks. He was in the process of hanging a replacement when Thane Jordan rode up.

  “What are you doing in town today, you contrary cuss?” Tully asked as Thane dismounted and sauntered over to him.

  Thane held the door while Tully tightened the screws in the hinges. “I rode out to one of my mines today. You won’t believe who I found on foot up in the mountains.”

  Tully lifted his gaze and shot Thane a questioning glance. “Please tell me it’s the horse rustler I’ve been trying to track down. If you found him, I hope you dragged him behind Shadow the whole way to town.”

  Thane shook his head and grinned. “I did not find him, although I’m sure you will. He’s bound to make a mistake sooner or later.”

  “Most likely,” Tully agreed, turning his attention back to tightening the screws holding up the door. “If it wasn’t the rustler, who was it you saw?”

  “Miss Dumont.”

  The screwdriver in Tully’s hand slipped and jabbed into his finger, drawing blood. He muttered a few choice words and sucked the blood off his finger before turning to glare at his friend.

  The urge to punch Thane hard enough to knock the smirk off his face nearly made him draw back his fist. “What in tarnation was that thick-headed, wearisome woman doing up in the hills?”

  “She was trying to find Clive Fisher’s mine. From what she said, a coyote spooked her and the horse took her for a wild ride before dumping her in the creek. The horse ran off and she was trying to catch up to it when I happened upon her. She’s darn lucky I came across her mount before someone else did. That fool woman was up there on a sidesaddle.” Thane lifted the door a little higher as Tully tightened the last of the screws. “I suggested she purchase a riding skirt from Maggie before she makes another attempt riding somewhere.”

  “Did you take her to Clive’s place?” Tully gave the screwdriver one final turn then stepped back.

  “I did. Clive only shot at us once on our way in. He must be going soft in his old age.” Thane pulled the door shut then pushed it open. “Good work on the door.”

  “Thanks.” Tully gathered his tools and set them inside the barn in a toolbox he kept on a high bench near his tack. “So you left her up there with Clive?”

  “Yeah. I stopped by his place to ride back with her, but she and Clive were nowhere to be seen, so I assumed she’d already left.”

  “What if he killed her and tossed her body down a shaft?” Tully lifted his saddle from a rack and carried it outside. He whistled for Cotton and the horse trotted over to the fence.

  Chuckles rolled out of Thane. “Clive wouldn’t kill her, or anyone else for that matter. He just likes to put on a good show.”

  “Still, I doubt that woman could find her way out of a cracker box let alone off that mountain.” Tully settled the saddle on the back of his horse and tightened the cinch while Thane slipped on Cotton’s bridle. �
��I finally get a day off and I’m gonna have to spend an hour or two of it chasing down some nincompoop female who isn’t smart enough to ride like a normal person or stay in town where she belongs.” Wound up, Tully huffed in frustration. “For that matter, she needs to go back to wherever she came from. I’ve endured more irritation and frustration since she arrived than I’ve had in the last dozen years.”

  Thane hid a grin and listened to his tirade. He ran a gentle hand along Cotton’s neck and patted the horse as Tully swung into the saddle. “It’s too bad she’s so pretty and smart, too. That probably just makes it even worse, doesn’t it, you cranky ol’ buffoon.”

  Tully scowled at Thane as his friend mounted his horse and rode alongside him to the road. “You coming with me?”

  “Nope. I’ll leave you to handle Miss Dumont. I told Jemma I’d pick up a few things she needed at the mercantile on my way home. You know you’re welcome to join us for supper if you’re of a mind to ride out to the ranch.”

  “If it doesn’t take me the rest of the day to find that mule-headed woman and the storm we’re about to get doesn’t settle in, I’ll be there.” Tully thumped Thane on the back. “Thanks for helping with the door.”

  “Anytime,” Thane said, turning toward town.

  “Tell Jemma and everyone hello for me.” Tully called over his shoulder as he headed west and rode toward the hills.

  He’d only gone about a mile when a lone rider drew his gaze.

  Backlit by the sun, a golden haze surrounded Brianna Dumont as she rode his direction. Her hair fell in a tumble of waves around her shoulders and down her back. Sunlight streaked through it, making it look like warm honey shot with gold. Tully’s fingers itched to bury themselves in those wild, thick tresses.

  A smudge marred her creamy cheek, her skirt had a tear near the knee, and she looked as though she might have wrestled with a pig from the dirt covering her dress, but Tully thought she’d never appeared more appealing.

  Lively blue sparks danced in her eyes and her lips turned up in a smile. The wind and sunshine had given her skin a pleasant, rosy hue.