The Calling Birds_The Fourth Day

by Jacqui Nelson

  “I’m not.”

  Her eyes went wide with astonishment. “You’re not?”

  “The moment I heard the word snowshoes I knew where you’d be. In the deep snow off the road.”

  The anxiety tensing his muscles only eased when they finally stood on the road by the narrow pass. The mule he’d tied to the tree lifted its head and brayed in welcome.

  Birdie’s gaze darted from the beast to him. “How did a mule get here? You said you no longer went near them.”

  “Desperation brought us together again. I knew I’d struggle to find you in the snow, but I hoped we’d cross paths farther down the road or at the rail station. So, I fetched one of the mules from the corral behind Peregrines.”

  A grin curved her lips. “And galloped to my rescue.”

  Jack snorted. “Nothing so smooth. The ornery beast wouldn’t go faster than a jolting trot. The pace gave me too much time to contemplate the fresh boot prints heading down the road. I feared they were the miners, so when they left the road I tied the mule here and followed them, and then the voices.” Remembering her cry made his stomach churn.

  She scanned the mule in her usual thorough way, then him as well. “You rode with only a halter and lead rope.”

  He shrugged. “There was no time to find a saddle. I was in a hurry.” He was in a hurry again—to hold her close. He untied the mule and with the aid of a snowbank leapt onto its back. “Can I offer you a ride home?”

  Her smile blinded him with happiness as she reached up to grasp his hand. He lifted her to sit side-saddle in front of him and reined the mule toward Noelle.

  This time the stubborn creature moved without urging, eager to get home where it’d always been well-cared-for by Woody. He patted its neck and silently praised it for its efforts in helping him reach Birdie in time. He’d never stop thanking the mule for that gift.

  “I’ve always wanted to ask, what’s that pounding noise?” Birdie gestured in the direction of the mine.

  “That’s the stamp mill’s steam-powered rock crusher. It makes a miner’s life a tad less laborious. It’s also why the mine got the nickname of The Drum.”

  On the road ahead, the distant silhouette of man strode toward them.

  Birdie leaned forward eagerly. “Is that Grandpa? Non, Gus is thinner. This man is—” Her entire body went stiff as an oak plank as she jerked backward.

  The man walked with a slight limp and whole lot of determination. Silver pistols flashed in a leather holster riding low on his hips.

  “Sheriff Draven.” Her brittle announcement came with a shiver that left her trembling.

  He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his wildly beating heart. “It’s time to tell him your name.”

  “And then?”

  He wasn’t sure. He was only certain about one thing. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Almost four days had passed since Birdie first entered the Golden Nugget Saloon with eleven other brides and one matchmaker. Today when she walked in, she didn’t scan the room. She didn’t have to. She’d already found what she was looking for and more.

  She held the hand of her husband-to-be and smiled up at the man she loved. Jack returned her gaze with an intensity that made her wonder if his thoughts had gone a step further—already imagining them back at Peregrines’ Post and upstairs in their bedroom.

  “Get ready for another wedding, folks!” Gus hollered as he shepherded them away from the crisp air that’d followed them across the threshold.

  The room erupted in a round of hearty “congratulations” and the squeaking of tables and chairs being pushed aside to allow everyone to gather close for the event.

  When her arm brushed something prickly, she finally wrenched her gaze away from Jack. Gus had maneuvered them to a spot by an evergreen tree decorated with three entwined hearts made from fine silver—that reminded her of Culver’s flask—and a handful of equally beautiful ornaments painted in contrasting colors. A partridge, two doves, three hens and a—

  Her breath caught in her throat as she reverently touched the replica of the tiny gray bird with a white breast and a black cap that’d sang to her in the forest when she was all alone.

  “Reminds me of you again,” Jack whispered close to her ear. “Grandpa added the same bird to your wedding present.”

  She instinctively slipped her hand inside her coat to ensure the leather case was still attached to her belt. She smiled when her fingertips touched the engraving of the small round bird.

  “My chickadee,” Jack said as he kissed her cheek. “Since you came to town, you’ve become my favorite bird,” his tone turned teasing, “when you’re not in flight.”

  She let go of Gus’ gift and grabbed both of Jack’s hands so she could face him fully. “God willing, I’ll never fly again. At least not away from you. Flying toward you is something I’m keen to do every day.”

  “We share the same goal, and with the help of Noelle, Draven, and the Braverys, we’ll never be parted again.”

  She nodded even though she still had trouble believing what they’d learned from the sheriff.

  Although glowering and impatient, the bounty hunter turned lawman had listened to her story and when she’d told him her real name, he’d done the unthinkable. He’d laughed. So abruptly and briefly she questioned now if it had really happened.

  With his missing eye and scarred face, he certainly hadn’t looked any more approachable than the first day she’d seen him. But what he’d said had toppled a heavy burden from her heart.

  He’d explained that when Lachlan and Élodie Bravery had come to Noelle to deliver their findings about Jack’s wife, the couple had asked Draven for a favor. Lachlan had said he’d seen a woman in Denver who he owed a debt. Fourteen years ago, he’d almost shot her and worried that event had launched the woman down a path of a life on the run.

  Lachlan had requested that if Draven ever discovered Bernadette Bellamy was in trouble, Draven should contact him. This time Lachlan vowed he’d use his Winchester to defend not threaten. His wife had pledged her support as well.

  Bernadette Bellamy was now under the protection of two of the most revered legends of the northwest. Not to mention two much-loved men named Peregrine.

  “Stay together,” the elder said while the younger replied, “Best advice you’ve ever given.”

  But when Gus grabbed his friend Ezra’s arm and turned to leave, Jack protested. “Where are you going?”

  “To fetch Mrs. Walters ’n anyone else we can gather from La Maison.” Gus’ gaze met hers as he paused. “Hopefully we’ll find yer copper-haired friend who visited yesterday.”

  “Oh, it’d be wonderful if you could bring Penny.”

  “With a little luck, we shall. With lots more, I might even remember she’s pretty as a penny ’n call her by her name when I see her. Hope I can locate Aggie, as well.” Gus hurriedly combed his fingers through his beard and adjusted his flat cap. “She’ll want to see you wed.”

  “Who’s Aggie?” Jack asked.

  Gus ducked his head and pushed Ezra toward the door.

  His friend dug in his heels. “Yeah, I never heard ya mention an Aggie before.”

  “Grand-père, do you mean Agatha Boonesbury? When did you find the time to talk to her?”

  “Now isn’t the time for jawin’,” Gus countered. “We need to gather as many people as possible to witness this marriage.”

  Ezra slapped Gus on the back. “You can’t fool me, ya old geezer. You want a crowd to share your celebration.”

  “That I do.” Gus’ grin became a scowl. “I also wanna show Madwoman Bonheur that this town stands with me ’n my grandchildren. She’d better think twice before bedeviling us again.”

  Gus’ words and new moniker for the madam made her shake then nod her head in quick order. She prayed the woman’s crazy desperation to reclaim what she’d lost wouldn’t lead to more threats—directed at the Peregrines or other
s.

  She planned to use the Braverys’ promise of protection to safeguard Gus and Jack as well as herself. But what of the other brides? Especially those who hadn’t yet married and formed unbreakable bonds with their grooms? And who would help the poor souls who had nothing but their work under Madame Bonheur’s rule?

  Gus had finally got his friend moving, and they were almost at the door.

  Before they left, she hastened to call out, “Grand-père, if you find Pearl at La Maison, beg her to come too, s’il vous plaît.”

  He gave her a jaunty salute before he disappeared outside.

  The hullabaloo in the saloon reminded her that Gus and his friend had already rounded up quite a few witnesses and celebrators. The search party had transformed into a wedding party. Having not seen Madame Bonheur since her return, she could only assume the woman had retreated to her reduced lodgings. Birdie couldn’t imagine the madam would stay hidden, or quiet, for long however.

  “Hey, chica.” Josefina tugged Birdie’s sleeve impatiently. “Don’t keep us waiting. Take off that coat and reveal your wedding dress.”

  “Oui, montre-nous ta robe!” Minnie’s perfectly pronounced French no longer surprised Birdie. The woman had divulged some of her secrets but not all. “Show your dress,” Minnie urged. “We’re keen to see the divine creation a dressmaker makes for her big day.”

  She raised both hands in defeat. “Sadly, I have nothing worthy to reveal. I didn’t have time to make a dress.”

  “But you’re so quick with your needle.” Meizhen’s compliment made Birdie shake her head. Spending many years as an acrobat made Woody’s wife quicker than all of the brides combined.

  Jack’s steadfast regard as he watched her while addressing the women made her pulse race. “You ladies should’ve seen how fast my wife was with her scissors when I found her in a tree an hour ago.”

  My wife. Her heart swelled with happiness at how easily he said the words along with the return of his teasing tone. She’d gladly have given up every inch of cloth she wore to escape her fall and land back in his arms.

  Her current attire was something she’d never imagined she’d wear on her wedding day, but she didn’t care. Well, not as long as no one discovered her state of undress. Luckily, her long coat concealed her well.

  It did not however hide her from the frigid air that, when the saloon door banged open, gusted across the floor and up her legs. When she shivered, Jack moved to block the chill with his body.

  Even though dressmaking had been her passion for as long as she could recall, Noelle kept reminding her of the importance of winter clothing. Her lips parted on a silent gasp. She’d never given Jack and Gus their Christmas scarves! The instant they got back to Peregrines, she’d present them promptly.

  No more waiting.

  Gus waved a trio of smiling women through the saloon door. Mrs. Walters, Penny, and Agatha raced to her side.

  She hugged each of them and the other brides as well. So many had made it, but not— Unease constricted her chest as she asked, “Where’s Pearl? Couldn’t you find her at La Maison?”

  Gus cocked his head as if trying to remember. “Never got there. Met Aggie ’n her flock coming this way. Liam told ’em to head to the Nugget.”

  Mrs. Walters’ usually sharp and determined green eyes shone with the same worry that gripped Birdie. “Pearl wasn’t with us. As to her location…” The matchmaker heaved a sigh. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Birdie’s shoulders stiffened as she contemplated the places Pearl might be. “I hope she’s all right.” I hope she’s nowhere near Madame Bonheur.

  Jack’s large hand enveloped hers and squeezed reassuringly. “We’ll make sure she’s all right. We’ll do it together.”

  Tears blurred her vision. How far they’d come in four days. It was hard to believe she’d once refrained from saying Pearl’s name for fear Jack might question her desire to give a dress to a fallen woman, or that he might not stand by a bride who had a history of thievery in her past.

  Jack was the man for her. A man she was eager to marry. She pulled him toward Reverend Hammond who waited with his Bible in his hands and his new wife, Felicity, by his side.

  The man nearly blinded her with his beaming smile. “It gives me immense pleasure to see the two of you are finally ready to marry. You’re doing Noelle a great service by saying your vows.”

  Three couples had gotten hitched. She and Jack would make the count four, but Noelle still needed eight additional marriages in order to meet the railroad’s deadline in nine days. Would the town, that was about to become her home, succeed?

  “Jack. Miss Bell.” The reverend nodded to them in turn. “Let us proceed. Do you—?”

  She shook her head. “I cannot get married unless you call me Bernadette Bellamy.”

  Both the reverend and Felicity stared at her in wide-eyed bafflement.

  She turned in a circle as she addressed the crowd. “My real name is Bernadette Bellamy. But after the ceremony, please call me Birdie. Or Mrs. Peregrine.” She stopped turning when she faced Jack. “I’m eager to leap into my new life.”

  “Reverend Hammond, you’d better marry us quickly.” Jack bent to whisper close to her ear. “Because I want to—”

  “Take me home.” She used his nearness to steal a kiss. “I know what you’re thinking. We have unfinished business.”

  “In the freight office?” The heat in his golden eyes told her he was anticipating another location.

  She combed her fingers through his enticingly windswept and wild hair. “We have much to do. But I’ll only assist you in your work after we finish what we started upstairs.”

  Jack’s voice turned deep and solemn, sounding exactly as she’d imagined he would when he said his vows. “Never doubt for a moment, mon univers, that you truly are my everything. All of our matchmakers did their jobs perfectly when they matched us.”

  * * *

  Thank you for reading The Calling Birds: The Fourth Day. I hope you enjoyed Birdie and Jack and, of course, Gus’ adventures in the town of Noelle. Even though they’ve won their happily-ever-after, the future of Noelle remains uncertain.

  Can eight more couples get married by the twelfth day of Christmas? Will the town of Noelle receive its railroad line and not only survive, but thrive?

  Read more in the Twelve Days of Christmas Mail-Order Bride series to find out!

  Here’s a sneak peak of the next book in the series…

  The Gold Ring: The Fifth Day

  By Caroline Lee

  My dearest Miss Anderson,

  To think! In only a few short weeks, propriety will grant me the boon of calling you “Maybelle”! I am ecstatic to know I’ve won your hand. I heartily complimented our Reverend Hammond—whom I hitherto imagined to be rather bumbling and incompetent—on his excellent matchmaking skills when he paired us. Of course I know of your family; although I never had the honor of meeting your father in person, my father has spoken positively of him in the past. I expect our marriage will do wonders towards getting me back in pater’s good graces.

  I was happy to hear of your preference for finely waxed mustaches, and shall continue to maintain my magnificent mustache so it meets your standards. I am ashamed to admit I do not have a photograph to share with you, because this town’s standards are so low it does not even employ or house a photographer. But rest assured I am considered quite the specimen of manhood by the ladies of my acquaintance, and I shall leave nothing lacking in our marriage. To that end, I am working towards obtaining housing befitting a couple of our social standing. Up until now, I’ve been forced to live little better than a common miner or laborer, when in reality my weekly newspaper is the lifeblood of this community. Of course, only a dozen or so denizens of this horrible little town can actually read, but I toil tirelessly at my work, knowing I offer them the only enrichment in their sorry little lives. It is truly a labor of charity.

  To answer your other question: yes, I know my father
and older brother, who run San Francisco’s premier newspaper, would be thrilled to meet you. I hope to take you there one day to visit. It’s only fitting someone of your social standing and upbringing be surrounded by luxury. Perhaps once this infantile arrangement with the Denver and Pacific Railroad has been finalized…

  Until we meet, I remain your eminently worthy groom,

  Mr. Horatio P. Smythe

  To read The Gold Ring, click HERE.

  ABOUT THE SERIES

  Twelve Days of Christmas Mail-Order Brides series

  The Partridge, The First Day - by Kit Morgan

  The Dove, The Second Day - by Shanna Hatfield

  The Hens, The Third Day - by Merry Farmer

  The Calling Birds, The Fourth Day - by Jacqui Nelson

  The Gold Ring, The Fifth Day - by Caroline Lee

  The Goose, The Sixth Day - by Peggy L Henderson

  The Swan, The Seventh Day - by Piper Huguley

  The Maid, The Eighth Day - by Rachel Wesson

  The Dancing Lady, The Ninth Day - by Mimi Milan

  The Lord, The Tenth Day - by Danica Favorite

  The Piper, The Eleventh Day - by Amanda McIntyre

  The Drum, The Twelfth Day - by E.E. Burke

  Twelve men. Twelve brides. Twelve days to save a town.

  Christmas, 1876: Noelle, Colorado is in danger of becoming a ghost town if the railroad decides to bypass the mountaintop mining community. Determined to prove their town is thriving, twelve men commit to ordering brides before the railroad’s deadline six days into the New Year.

  Each of the twelve women has her own reason for signing up to become a mail-order bride. But after they arrive in the uncivilized settlement, they aren’t so sure they’ve made the right decision. Neither are the grooms.

  Will the marriages happen in time to save Noelle?

  The countdown starts on Christmas Day.

  Join the Twelve Days of Christmas Mail-Order Brides series