How Miss West Was Won

by Diane Darcy

  Very sorry.

  That woman had ruined everything and, if it took a lifetime, he’d make her pay.

  In the meanwhile, he was going west to find his bride.

  Mrs. Phillips showed Grace to her room and left her to settle in.

  She gazed around in astonishment. The four-poster bed was beautiful, with stuffed pillows, gauzy blue hangings, and a pretty blue bedspread adorning the high mattress. A dresser—painted white and inlaid with gold color—stood next to a matching wardrobe and mirrored vanity. A plush chair sat in the corner, perfect for curling up and reading a book.

  She crossed a luxurious rug and polished hardwood floor to better examine the big, frilly curtained window with its window seat and brightly colored, embroidered cushions. She gazed into the backyard garden, admiring the tops of blossoming trees, budding rose bushes, a brick pathway, and a lush green lawn. A treehouse rested among the branches of a huge oak on one corner of the property.

  She gaped at the beautiful birdbath situated amid white-pebbled areas with tables and chairs arranged in cozy groups. Beyond, she could see more houses lined in the distance, but nothing so fine as the one she stood within, despite its odd architecture.

  A hummingbird floated in the air mere feet from her face, adding to the wonder of the moment, the clear glass allowing her to see every fluttering detail before it flitted away.

  This place surpassed all of her expectations.

  A moment later, a knock on the door interrupted her reverie and she opened to a couple of young, towheaded boys. “Hello,” she greeted them.

  “I’m Elijah, and,” the older of the two stuck his thumb toward a slightly smaller, almost identical boy. “This here’s my brother Bennie. We brought your trunk and bag, Miss.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” She took the bag off the top of the trunk. “Can you bring it inside?”

  The boys exchanged self-important glances. “‘Course we can. We carried it across town and up two sets of stairs, didn’t we?”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “You did. And if you’d bring it the rest of the way inside, and situate it beside the vanity, I’d be ever so grateful.”

  Elijah’s chest expanded. “Don’t rightly know what a vanity is, but if you show us where to put it, we’ll do the work.”

  “Thank you. Right this way.”

  She showed the boys where to set it and, after they rotated it right side up, she reached inside her travel bag for her small purse while they glanced around in wonder.

  “Thank you, boys. I think a reward is in order after all your hard work.”

  Elijah raised a hand. “Can’t accept it. Mayor Carrington gave us a few coins. He said we’re not to take a dime off you. Says if we do, he’ll find out about it and skin us alive.”

  Grace blinked. Would he have arranged this for anyone? Or had she received special treatment? “In that case, I’ll simply thank you for all your hard work. I know I could never have transported that trunk here myself.”

  Both boys laughed.

  “Got that right,” Elijah said. “What’ve you got in there? Rocks?”

  “Maybe gold?” Bennie spoke for the first time.

  Studying their curious faces, she smiled. “Just clothes and books, I’m afraid.”

  Elijah snorted. “Waste of a good trunk.”

  “I do however have a story in there about gold. If you’d like, I could read it to you sometime. It’s called Treasure Island.”

  Both boys glanced at each other, then at her. “Is it a good story?” Bennie asked.

  “The best. There’s a treasure map, a talking parrot, a one-legged man, pirates—and, of course—treasure.” Grace said the last in a harsh whisper.

  Eyes wide and eager, the boys nodded. “I’d like to hear about that,” Elijah said.

  “Me, too,” Bennie agreed.

  “All right. We’ll have to plan some reading time very soon.”

  “What’s wrong with now?” Bennie asked.

  “I’ve just arrived and need to unpack. Once I’m settled, we’ll arrange something.”

  Bennie shot her a look of betrayal as he followed his brother out the door and Grace bit back a smile. As a lover of stories, she recognized the trait in another.

  After shutting the door, she sank onto the plush chair and released a breath. As gorgeous as the place was, she missed home. The bustle of New York. The Carmichael’s house in Clinton Hill. Visiting her mother on her half-day off, and writing to her sister in Massachusetts. What was she doing here? She rubbed the scar on her chest. Hopefully she’d settle in quickly.

  After all, she ought to feel right at home. The moment she’d arrived, she’d been pulled into the intrigues of the rich, and this wasn’t the first time her life changed overnight. She’d started anew when her father died. They all had.

  And there were positives. She liked new experiences, and Orchard City was a charming town. She had some books, and she’d spotted more on Mrs. Braxton’s shelf. Another positive.

  She liked pie, and would be happy to have something to keep herself occupied during the day. Working in the pie shop would be enjoyable. She’d be meeting new people and learning new skills.

  Encouraging the mayor to court her, well, that was another situation entirely. She’d have to discuss that with Mrs. Braxton when saner heads prevailed.

  Most importantly, she and Penny were both safe and, hopefully, the villain would forget all about them. For the first time in a long while, she could relax.

  Hope blossomed. What had the mayor said? Any new person in town was worth remarking on? Well, she wouldn’t be new for long. She’d be one of them soon. And if someone came to town searching for her, it would be worth remarking on and would no doubt get back to her and she could—

  Wait. The gambling tournament.

  There’d soon be a lot of new people in town—men, specifically. If the villain arrived amid that crowd, would anyone think to comment upon it?

  A chill ran though her and she stood and walked to the window. Men and their senseless, thoughtless, reckless games.

  Maybe she should help stop the tournament. Identifying villains aside, she was Mrs. Braxton’s guest, after all. She ought to be in the widow’s corner. Besides, she hated gambling. Hated the way it ruined lives. And would a small flirtation with the mayor really hurt anything? It would be something to remember in the attic back home after her Grand Adventure came to an end.

  She truly doubted she had the drawing power to influence the man, but had to at least try.

  As far as she was concerned, Mrs. Braxton and her cronies could deal her in.

  Chapter 4

  After breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Braxton walked Grace the quarter mile to the pie shop.

  “I have to say, my dear, I have quite mixed feelings about you working here.” She glanced at Grace, her usual confidence replaced with worry. “What do you think your mother would truly say?”

  Grace pictured her mother, dark-haired, brave, yet broken. “She’d say idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” Grace did realize Mrs. Braxton referred to Mrs. Carmichael, who would say something else entirely. It was becoming apparent Mrs. Carmichael hadn’t seen fit to tell Mrs. Braxton that Grace wasn’t her daughter.

  To keep Penny safe? To protect Grace? To assure Grace a better situation with Mrs. Braxton? Had she simply forgotten in the rush to leave? Grace wasn’t sure whether to admit the truth or not. She couldn’t see that it would hurt to tell, and it made her uncomfortable to let the woman continue believing the fiction. Certainly it would be better to tell all now, rather than later. “Mrs. Braxton, I must tell you—”

  “I assure you, you will not be required to bake.”

  “Truthfully, I’m not a very good cook, but I wouldn’t mind learning.”

  Mrs. Braxton waved her hands in the air. “Absolutely not. Your mother would be most displeased if you came home sporting the skills of a baker. I’m sure of it.”

  Grace released a breath. Better
to just say this quickly. “Mrs. Carmichael isn’t my mother.”

  Mrs. Braxton’s mouth gaped. “Oh, my dear. Please don’t say that. My own daughter and I are estranged—her husband doesn’t seem to care for my company—so it breaks my heart to hear you say such words.”

  “What I mean is—”

  “No.” Fingers splayed, she shook her hands in the air again. “I won’t hear it. Your mother is always your mother.”

  “But—”

  “Enough! When you’re older, you’ll realize the sacrifices she’s made on your behalf. I’ve no doubt being sent from New York has made you feel slightly bitter. I know you’ll miss out on parties, and you’ll pine for your friends. But someday, when you have children of your own, you’ll understand a mother’s love and forgive much.”

  Again, Grace couldn’t help thinking of her own mother, a lady’s companion now. Grace didn’t see her often, but felt the strength of her love daily. After her husband died by his own hand, she’d become a shell of her former self, and it still shamed her to see her two daughters in service to others. Grace’s chest felt hollow.

  “Here we are.”

  When they stopped in front of a quaint shop with pretty windows bedecked with gingham curtains, it relieved her to let go of thoughts of the past. She truly looked forward to working and staying busy.

  The door opened to a bell tinkling above, and smells of fruit and cinnamon drifted out. Hardwood floors, a chest-high countertop sporting a flowering plant, and wrought-iron tables with a single rose in a vase for decoration made for a visually charming impression. It looked like a wonderful spot to spend a relaxing hour.

  A pretty blonde, wiping a table clean, glanced up when they entered. “Mrs. Braxton! Welcome. And I see you’ve brought your new guest. Can I get you both some pie? We have apple and peach, both bottled from the Hardison farm last fall.”

  “No, thank you, Minnie. This is Grace Carmichael. Her grandmother is a dear friend of mine.”

  Grace forced herself not to squirm. She definitely needed to set the woman straight soon.

  “Hello.” The other girl was cheerful, pleasant looking, and around Grace’s age with curly blonde hair. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Hello.” Grace smiled, relieved at the other girl’s friendliness. “It’s nice to meet you, as well.”

  Minnie brightened. “I hear we’re to be partners, serving pie and inciting the public into rejecting the tournament.”

  Grace nodded, glad she wouldn’t be in this all by herself. “That’s the plan.”

  “There now.” With a pleased expression, Mrs. Braxton glanced between them. “I’m sure you’ll be fast friends by the end of the day. Minnie, do not allow Grace to bake. She’s to serve pie.”

  “All right.”

  “But I’m willing to learn,” Grace protested.

  Mrs. Braxton opened the door. “No baking. Don’t forget to speak ill of the tournament and all those involved.”

  After she left, Minnie chuckled. “You’ll get used to them. Anything that ruffles their feathers becomes an incident around here. They’re worse than a pack of children.”

  “Do you disapprove of the tournament? Do you truly want it banned?”

  Minnie shrugged. “I won’t deny it would be exciting to have rich, handsome men coming into the shop, but since I already have my sights set on a cowboy who lives here, I really couldn’t care less. What about you? Are you against it?”

  Grace’s hand went to her chest and she rubbed her scar as she pictured the rage of the man who’d slashed her. “I admit, coming from a crowded city, I’d rather enjoy the peacefulness of a small town while I’m here.”

  “Then let’s do our best to stand against it. Anyway, it’s not like we really have a choice. Mrs. Braxton is employing us, so what she says goes.”

  The bell over the door rang and Grace watched a couple of cowboys come in. Unsure what to do, she moved behind the counter to stand next to Minnie.

  “You the new girl?” The cowboy asked as he eyed Grace.

  His open, eager face made her smile. “Apparently, I am. I just started working today.”

  When they continued to stare, she asked, “Can I interest you boys in some pie?”

  Both boys grinned—and they were boys. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. “That’d be mighty fine, what have you got today?”

  “Peach and apple?” She glanced back.

  Minnie, looking amused, nodded. “Yes.”

  “Peach,” the boys said in unison. “Coffee, too,” said the taller one.

  “Take a seat, boys. Your pie will be right out.”

  A minute later Minnie handed Grace a couple of plates with warm peach pie and a dollop of whipped cream on top. She carried them to the table where the boys were settled as Minnie followed with forks and napkins. Grace retrieved cups and saucers, laid them out, and found the half-filled coffee pot on the stove.

  “Cream and sugar are on the table,” Minnie called.

  “I’m Jake, and this is Clay,” the taller man said as Grace poured. They studied her expectantly.

  “I’m Miss Carmichael. It’s nice to meet you both.”

  “We work out at the Jones ranch,” Jake said. “We were picking up supplies and saw you walk in with Widow Braxton. Saw her leave and decided to come over and see what’s what.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  Grace glanced back at Minnie, who gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Gentlemen, have you heard of the gambling tournament coming to town?”

  Both boys grinned. Clay, the shorter, freckled one, said, “You bet we have.”

  Jake nodded. “It’s gonna be the biggest thing that’s ever hit this dot on the map.”

  “So you approve?”

  “Of course,” they said in unison.

  Grace frowned. “I have to say I’m a bit disappointed over the whole thing.”

  “How so?” Jake swallowed a bite of pie. “It’s going to be exciting.”

  “Yes,” Clay agreed. “It’ll be fun. Rich blokes coming to town to lose some of their money. Watching the competition. All the new folks. Seriously, it’s a good thing.”

  “Hmm.” This might be more difficult than she thought. “Will the two of you be entering?”

  Jake shrugged. “Don’t have the money, more’s the pity.”

  “We’ve been practicing at the bunkhouse,” Clay offered. “If something comes up, I’ll be ready.”

  “Huh. You’re no good, anyway.”

  “I am good. If I won the tournament, I’d buy Miss Carmichael here a new dress.”

  Jake snorted. “I’d buy her a house if I won. Bigger than Widow Braxton’s.”

  Clay’s brows crashed together as he leaned closer to Jake, his shirt almost touching the pie. “I meant I’d buy her a dress to put in the house I bought her. Bigger than whatever house you’d build, that’s for sure. Classier, too.”

  “If you think that you—”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder to roll her eyes at Minnie, who was trying not to laugh. Time to take control of the situation and get the subject back on track. She cleared her throat. “I’m sure both you boys would win if given the opportunity. But I could never accept any gifts if you did, as I do not approve of gambling.”

  Clay’s mouth parted. “But … a dress and a house?”

  “And … and some furniture, too,” Jake assured.

  “Sorry, but no.” Grace shook her head regretfully.

  They both seemed confused, but at least they didn’t look like they were going to come to blows anymore.

  When the bell tinkled over the door, she was relieved to see an older couple enter the shop. “Excuse me. I’m needed elsewhere.”

  During the next little while, customers came and went. Minnie showed her how to collect money and clean up. About an hour later, business slowed and Grace wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and turned to Minnie “Whew. How am I doing so far?”

  “Great!” Minnie said enthusiastically.
“It’s been a huge help to have another set of hands today.”

  Grace smiled, pleased, then said, “So far the ladies in town seem to be in agreement about the tournament, but talking the men, especially the single ones, into rejecting it is going to be easier said than done, I suspect.”

  Minnie shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. All we can do is play our part. There’s nothing we can do about the outcome.” As they settled in to do a few dishes, Minnie said, “Tell me about the trip out.”

  “The train ride took forever, of course. It was interesting at times and boring at others. When I arrived yesterday, there was no one to meet me. I thought I might be sleeping the night on the bench.”

  “You arrived at a bad time. When the widow and her posse are up in arms, nothing else matters to them.”

  “It turned out fine, though. I met a very handsome, dark-haired man, and he walked me around the town. So that was nice.”

  Minnie’s face went from smiling to devastated in an instant. “I saw him first.”

  Grace understood immediately. “I … I’m sorry. Of course I’ll stay away. I didn’t know I was poaching. In fact, during the time I walked with him, I thought the mayor was married.”

  “Oh. The mayor?” Minnie asked and released a sigh. “I meant Sawyer Graham.”

  “Oh. It was definitely the mayor I walked with. Luke Carrington.”

  They both smiled, relieved.

  “I assure you I haven’t met a Mr. Graham, and if I do, I intend to shun him completely.”

  “I’m sorry,” Minnie rubbed her forehead. “I’m an idiot about Sawyer. Always have been, always will be.”

  “Is he your beau?”

  “Not yet.” Minnie pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “I still haven’t figured out the details, but I’m going to marry that man someday.”

  “I wish you the best of luck.”

  “Thanks. And you as well. With the mayor, I mean.”

  “Oh, no, I …”

  She caught Minnie’s grin and both girls laughed.

  “Minnie.” Grace picked up a cloth to wipe the already spotless counter. “I do believe Mrs. Braxton had the truth of it. We are destined to be fast friends.”