RNWMP: Bride for Jonathan (Mail Order Mounties Book 8)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “We’re definitely going to need a bookcase, but I think we could make that rather than buying one,” she said. “It could go over there—that’s probably the only place for it.”

  Back to the books. Did she never think about anything else? “Are there any more biscuits?” he asked, desperate to change the subject again.

  “Of course.” She passed him the plate, and he took two. That would keep him busy chewing, making it harder to answer questions, so maybe she’d stop asking them.

  Moments later, a sharp rap sounded at the door. Jonathan stood up and answered it, finding Peter, one of his Kaska friends, standing on the other side.

  “We need your help,” he said, and Jonathan could tell by the look on his face that it was important.

  “I’ll be right out,” he said, and Peter nodded.

  Jonathan closed the door and turned to put on his jacket. Elaine had risen from the table. “Doesn’t he want to come in?” she asked.

  “Not Peter. He’s been invited plenty of times before, but he’s the type who prefers to stay outside.”

  “Then at least take him some biscuits.” She grabbed a napkin, wrapped up four biscuits, and handed them over.

  Jonathan looked down at the napkin, then at her. How could he leave her on their wedding day? He set the bundle on the table and snaked his arm around her waist. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, lowering his head for a kiss. Now she tasted like honey, even though there was none on the table. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, all right? But don’t be alarmed if it takes a while. Sometimes these things stretch out.”

  “Come home to me soon, and be safe,” she replied, and his heart lurched. He wanted to tell Peter to go fix things himself and leave him be, but Mounties were sworn to their posts and their duty.

  “I promise,” he replied. He gave her another kiss, a longer one this time, and stepped away, picking up the biscuits before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

  ***

  Elaine finished eating, then washed up the dishes and put them away. Knowing that she and Jonathan would be making a list of improvements for the house made her happy, and she allowed herself to daydream a little. If they added on a separate bedroom, she could expand the kitchen area and maybe get a better stove, one with a real oven. He’d said something about saving up, so she imagined that larger purchases would have to wait, but just thinking about it as a possibility set her imagination spinning.

  Once the kitchen area was tidy, she dusted the whole cabin, which only took a few minutes, and then she swept. She wanted to wash the windows, but it was getting dark, and she was nearly out of water. She’d wait until morning, when she could ask Jonathan to carry the water and when she could actually see what she was doing.

  Then she sat down to wait.

  Just how long would it take for him to come back? This was their wedding day . . . and their wedding night. She hadn’t expected them to spend it apart, but as the minutes ticked by, it appeared that’s exactly what they’d be doing. She chose out a book and brought the lamp close to her chair, keeping an ear out for Jonathan’s return even while immersing herself in the story.

  Finally, she had to go to bed—she just had to. It had been possibly the longest day of her life, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open a moment longer.

  She changed into the new white nightgown she’d brought with her, brushed out her hair, and climbed into bed, thinking that she’d just lie there and wait for Jonathan to come back, but she soon fell asleep anyway, her exhaustion catching up to her.

  Chapter Five

  “Jimmy, have you been talking to Toussaint Dubois again?” Jonathan asked, trying to look the Indian in the face. The man’s head was lolled to the side, though, making a direct conversation difficult.

  Jimmy shook his head with some effort. “No, Mountie. Why would I do that? You said . . . to stop.” His head flopped back over, and he began to snore.

  Jonathan left him where he was, propped up on a stack of split logs, and turned to Peter. “Where is Dubois now?”

  Peter shrugged.

  Jonathan bit back the words he wanted to say. “How many of Jimmy’s pelts did he make off with this time?”

  “All of them.” A soft woman’s voice came from the darkness. “He took everything.”

  Jonathan turned to see Ann stepping out from behind one of the Indian homes there in the village. Susan clung to her skirts, as usual, and they both looked scared.

  “I’m sorry to hear this, Ann. Jimmy promised me he was done trading his furs for rotgut.”

  She nodded. “You did the best you could. He . . .” She motioned to her unconscious husband. “He loves his bottle too much.”

  So much that he regularly wasted his living on it. Jonathan was so angry, it was all he could do not to grab the man up and shake him silly. He took a deep breath and tried to remain calm—for Ann and Susan’s sake, not for Jimmy’s. Jimmy didn’t deserve any such consideration.

  “I’ll take them home with me,” Peter said, nodding in Ann and Susan’s direction. “Mary will feed them.”

  “Thank you, Peter.”

  Jonathan watched as the three of them headed down the path toward Peter’s earthen house. Mary was a good woman—she would take care of Ann and Susan until Jimmy woke up and decided to be a husband and father again.

  The call of alcohol was strong in this area. Life wasn’t easy for these people, just as it wasn’t easy for anyone. Some felt that the only way they could go on from one day to the next was by soothing their pain with whiskey. Others suffered for that choice and went without food or other vital necessities. Jimmy often said that he wasn’t hurting anyone—that was a lie of the grossest kind. He was hurting his little family, and that was inexcusable.

  He was just turning to get back on his horse when he heard a commotion, and Gerald, another of the Indian fur trappers, came pushing through the small crowd that had gathered. “Where is he?” he shouted in his native language. “Where’s Jimmy?” He used the man’s Kaska name, which Jonathan had never been able to pronounce.

  “There.” One of the men pointed.

  Gerald strode across the clearing, picked Jimmy up by the front of his shirt, and shook him. Jonathan was slightly jealous—that was exactly what he wanted to do. “You stole my furs!” he screamed in the man’s face. “You thief!”

  Jonathan put his hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “He stole your furs?” he asked in the man’s language.

  “Yes. He traded them to that Frenchman for drink.”

  “And where is all the drink now?” If Jimmy had traded both his own furs and Gerald’s, he must have collected dozens of bottles.

  Jimmy lifted his head and looked around, his gaze glassy. “Two bottles,” he said, barely understandable. “Drank them.”

  “You traded all my hard work for two bottles?” Gerald let go of Jimmy and took a step back, looking as though he was leaving, but then he brought his fist back and plowed it into the middle of Jimmy’s face. Jimmy flew back and cracked his head on one of the logs in the pile. Jonathan grabbed Gerald’s arm and kept him from going in for another punch, then knelt beside the woodpile and checked Jimmy’s injury. It looked serious.

  Jonathan straightened and looked Gerald in the eye. “If he dies, you will be a murderer, and that is worse than being a thief.”

  Gerald’s chin was high, but he looked down at the ground. “I know.”

  “I must care for his wounds. You stay here. I will talk to you later.”

  Gerald gave one nod, and Jonathan grabbed his pack from his saddlebags.

  Some of the Indian women brought lanterns in close, and Jonathan rolled Jimmy onto his side. The blood that spilled on the ground looked thick, and Jonathan wasn’t sure if that meant it was clotting well or if there was something wrong in addition to the wound itself. Every Mountie was trained in basic first aid, but if this extended to a need for surgery, they would have to go for the doctor, and locating him was always tricky out here
in the wilderness.

  A movement at his elbow caused him to look up. Old Eagle, the village’s medicine man, had arrived. He didn’t say anything, but he nodded, and Jonathan knew that to mean he was there if needed.

  Jonathan poured water all over the split in Jimmy’s scalp while two of the women held him upright. He groaned, but did not regain full consciousness.

  Jonathan bandaged up the wound, wrapped several layers of gauze around the man’s head to hold everything in place, and then helped two men carry him into his house and laid him on the bed. “Someone will need to stay by him until he wakes up,” he said.

  Old Eagle took a chair and placed it by the bed, then sat, his solid bulk indicating that he would stay.

  “Thank you. If he becomes worse, we will need to send for the doctor.”

  Jonathan left the house, looked around, and spotted Gerald. “Come with me.”

  ***

  Jonathan opened the door to his cabin quietly, trying not to wake up his new wife. He’d spent a lot of time the night before talking to Gerald and trying to understand the business arrangement between the two Indian men. Apparently, they had agreed to work together to provide furs for the Russian traders who came through the area, and they would share the profits. Jimmy had broken their agreement and stolen Gerald’s entire source of income because of his love of whiskey. Gerald was well justified in his anger, but said that he had no desire to kill Jimmy and hoped he would recover. Jonathan decided to let him go for the time being until they knew if Jimmy would survive.

  As Jonathan entered the cabin, his gaze fell on Elaine, sleeping sweetly with her hair fanned out around her on the pillow. He paused and stared at her, amazed once again that such a lovely creature had come all the way out here to be with him. What trust she had placed in him, and what a responsibility for him to live up to.

  She stirred just then, and he held his breath. Maybe she’d go back to sleep and he wouldn’t disturb her. But her eyes then opened fully, and she smiled when she saw him.

  “Hello,” she said, sitting up. “Are you just now coming home?”

  “I am, and I’m sorry,” he replied. “I wish I’d been here last night, but I can’t always choose my hours.”

  “I understand.” She stood up and grabbed a shawl to wrap around her shoulders. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? The bread is baked now and ready for you.”

  Bread and coffee sounded wonderful, but he was more tired than anything. “Maybe after I rest my eyes for a few minutes,” he said.

  “Of course.”

  He pulled off his jacket and boots, sat on the edge of the bed, and fell asleep as he lay the rest of the way down.

  ***

  Jonathan had said that he only wanted to rest his eyes, but when he was lightly snoring within thirty seconds, Elaine knew how exhausted he must be, and she decided to let him sleep as long as possible. She dressed and put up her hair, then decided to work on that list even though he wasn’t awake to do it with her. She could always show it to him later and get his input.

  She rummaged through her trunk until she found some paper and a pencil, then she sat down and began to write.

  Bookcase

  Nails on wall to hang dresses

  Flour

  Coffee

  She paused. Would a milk cow ever be an option? She’d have to ask.

  Salt pork

  Sugar

  Then she drew a line and started writing down all the bigger things she wanted. The bedroom was at the top of that list, but she wasn’t sure if curtains should go on the big list or the littler list. She compromised by writing those off to the side, where they could be considered part of either, and went on from there. It was so much fun to daydream.

  Chapter Six

  Jonathan slept for a few hours, and Elaine busied herself by organizing her books alphabetically and then walking around outside to figure out where she wanted to put a flower bed and also a vegetable garden. She looked up when she heard the sound of horse hooves—Dermot was riding up to the cabin on top of Star.

  “Good morning,” he called out as he slid down from the saddle. “Is Jonathan around?”

  “He is, but he’s sleeping,” she replied. “He got called out last night and was gone until right before dawn.”

  “I can come back later,” Dermot said, but Jonathan stepped outside just then.

  “Give me a second to clean up and I’ll be right with you,” he said, walking off in the direction of the well, the bucket in his hand.

  “And I’ll make some tea,” Elaine chimed in.

  A short time later, both men were seated at the table, drinking tea and discussing the situation. Dermot took careful notes of everything Jonathan told him.

  “Will that poor man be all right?” Elaine asked.

  “I’ll ride out and check on him, but he must be doing fine this morning or they would have come for us,” Jonathan replied.

  Dermot signed the piece of paper he’d been using and slid it across the table. Jonathan picked it up and thanked him.

  “We have to write up reports on everything we do out here,” Dermot explained for Elaine’s benefit. He glanced at Jonathan and continued, “We get together a couple of times a week and work on them. Hope that’s all right with you—I’m sure you and Isabelle will enjoy visiting during that time.”

  “Of course,” Elaine replied, wondering how Isabelle was getting along in her cabin. Dermot seemed a little withdrawn—were things not going well?

  Dermot asked her a few questions about how she liked the Yukon, and they had a pleasant conversation. She was glad they were talking so easily—he was the Mountie she’d be seeing most often in addition to being Jonathan’s friend, and she’d like to think that he’d be her friend too.

  “How’s Isabelle doing?” she asked, thinking that if she wanted to get to the heart of the matter, she’d better just ask. He wasn’t going to drop any hints—that was the nice thing about talking to women. They always said just enough to sate the curiosity even if there were things they couldn’t say outright. “It’s only been a day and I already miss her.”

  Dermot seemed surprised at this statement, as though there was some reason why Elaine shouldn’t miss her friend. She stifled a sigh. Something was going on—something fairly serious—and she would have to get to the bottom of it somehow. The more Dermot talked, being careful not to say too much, the more concerned she became. He must have realized the effect he was having on her because he suddenly rose, excused himself, and left.

  Jonathan chuckled. “I’ve never seen him so uncomfortable.”

  “What do you mean?” Elaine asked.

  “That look you were giving him, like you’d pull out his eyeballs if he said one more negative thing about Isabelle. I’d be scared of you too.”

  “His whole demeanor—the way his voice turned hard when he spoke about her. I’m worried, Jonathan.” She turned and set the teacups in the washbasin. “I want to pay her a call. How far away is their cabin?”

  “I’ll show you the way. You wanted to see the Kaska village too—should we do that first, or should we save that for another day?”

  “Let’s save it for another day,” she replied immediately. “Isabelle comes first.”

  He smiled. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Elaine—you’re unfailingly kind.”

  “Am I?”

  He reached out and took her hand, gently bringing her in to stand in front of him. “Yes. I feel as though you have a lot to teach me.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “We’ll learn a lot from each other over the years.”

  He bent his head and kissed her, making her knees go a little weak. She was disappointed that he hadn’t come home the night before, but another night was coming.

  ***

  Elaine wanted to leave for Isabelle’s immediately. She wrapped Jonathan up some lunch and tucked it in his saddlebag, then climbed up behind him on his horse and wrapped her arms around his waist.

&nb
sp; “I’ll go check on Jimmy and make sure everything’s all right out there. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll try to pick you up on my way back.”

  “When you say you don’t know how long you’ll be gone, does that mean it might be overnight again?” Yes, she supported him, but two nights in a row was somewhat ridiculous, especially when they were newlyweds!

  “I will not be gone overnight again even if I have to hogtie Jimmy to a tree and deal with him later.”

  She laughed at the note of steel in his voice. All right, then.

  It didn’t take long for her to see another small cabin through the trees. He was right—that was an easy distance, and it was simple to find the way. She didn’t imagine she could get lost on walks out here to visit with her friend.

  She rapped on the door, and it opened to reveal Isabelle’s flour-covered face.

  “Isabelle! What’s the matter?”

  Isabelle stepped inside and motioned for her to enter. The kitchen was strewn with more flour, and Elaine struggled not to laugh. It was quite the sight, but her friend needed her to be serious at the moment. “I’m leaving as soon as I possibly can, Elaine. I’m not meant for this sort of life—I don’t think anyone is! How can a properly brought-up young woman be expected to live in this?”

  She motioned around. Elaine saw a cabin very much like her own, only a bit dirtier, and with trunks everywhere—Isabelle had brought a great deal with her.

  “I was properly brought up, and I plan to stay,” she said mildly. “Yes, I did some cleaning last night and this morning, but it wasn’t anything too difficult.”

  “But I don’t know how!” Isabelle sank down onto her chair.

  Elaine spent the next several minutes trying to help Isabelle see all the possibilities that could exist in a place like this, but she could see that her friend wasn’t ready to be thinking that way. She needed to give vent to her frustration first, and then maybe she’d move past it.