Why Not (A Valentine Matchmaker novella)

by Debra E. Marvin

  “I won’t know until we talk about it.”

  Joe glanced at his wife, before brushing past. Stone followed, and pulled the door closed behind him. Just as he let go of the latch, Joe’s oldest boy stepped out.

  “You go on back inside Billy.”

  Billy kept on walking. “I’m going to the barn.” The kid was as tall as his dad but had a hundred pounds or so to make up for in size.

  “Go ahead, Morrison,” Joe said, ignoring the boy. “Why are you here?”

  “I know you go to the meetings at Pete and Martha’s, or Emery Kolb’s place. And I know that some of your neighbors are afraid of—”

  “No. That’s where you’re wrong. They are not afraid.”

  Stone accepted that. “Afraid of change, then. Not like we can stop it.”

  Joe looked poised to growl but his mouth remained a narrow line.

  Stone walked around him. “I’d like to help. Let me come to one of your meetings. Not to change anyone’s mind, just to listen. I’ll talk to my bosses and the railroad board.”

  “Talking won’t work.” The big man rubbed a wooly sleeve across his face. “They’re determined to get around the old land claims and they’ve got the Rangers on their side.”

  “Cleaning up that cesspool of a tent village is a good thing, and you know it.”

  Joe’s blue eyes locked on Stone’s. “I’m talking about coming in and telling people what they can and can’t do with their own land.”

  “I don’t like it either, but they’ve got the money to make it an uneven fight.”

  “So how do you suppose you’re going to fix things?”

  Stone picked up a branch and tossed it aside. “I’m not. Some of them appreciate hard working men like you. I think they’ll listen to me.”

  “Right.”

  Stone couldn’t believe his own words. He’d been so keen to stand on his own, and here he was expecting to leverage the family name. It disgusted him. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  Joe studied him for a moment. “Why did a fire bring you out here?”

  “It started after an explosion.”

  “And you think I know who did it?” Joe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you ask me, it was a mistake. Anyone wanting to cause real damage would have picked a better time and place.”

  “You have your suspicions. Your mother knows more than she’s saying.”

  Joe showed no surprise.

  Stone tried to shake off the growing tension in his neck, and growing irritation with Joe. “The hotels and the railroad aren’t going away.”

  “You think the government will give us compensation for all our work? For giving up the lives we’ve made here?”

  No argument there. “Or they’ll take it. Working with them is better in the long run.” If this was his place, he’d have been just as protective, but right now he was fed up with both sides. “Listen. Barley’s going to work for the hotel. Giving tours. There’s plenty of jobs to come. I know people who would be glad to a have a man like you working for them.”

  “That’s just it. I’ve never worked for nobody but myself.”

  “There are worse things.”

  Joe glanced toward the house, his shoulders relaxing.

  Stone let the silence build and started for his mare. “When I came here to work, I had no idea why anyone would be against the new hotel, but I learned a few things about people and some things about myself. This place is big enough for both tourists and the kind of life you want to lead. If you work with them.”

  Joe laughed without an ounce of humor. “I don’t trust them. The government. The forest service, The Sante Fe. Look what they did to Pete Berry. He fought for that train, only to have the track go twenty five miles wide of his place.”

  “But fighting them is going to wear you out and wear down your family.” Stone gathered the mare’s reins. “Pride makes us do stupid things.”

  “I don’t think I know the difference between pride and stubbornness anymore,” Joe replied, but this time he smiled.

  “One more thing. Mr. Eliot up at the hotel could use your two oldest tomorrow. Give them a chance for a day.”

  “What is it?”

  “Getting ready for the Saint Valentine’s Day Party.”

  Joe considered the idea. “They don’t have anything nice to wear.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got a friend at the shop in town…”

  Joe grinned.

  “You bring the missus up tonight,” Stone suggested, hoping to part as friends.

  “Haven’t done that since we courted.”

  “Once every twenty years or so?” He slapped Joe’s shoulder, before mounting up. “Have them ask for Mr. Eliot and tell him I sent them.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Stone waved to Joe’s wife, watching from behind a gingham curtain. The sun had set but the sky was clear and twilight would give him twenty minutes to get back.

  He’d have never dared suggest to Joe who he thought was behind the explosion yesterday, and some of the things that had gone missing out at the work site. Getting Joe’s son and daughter out to work might help them see the other side of the story. Getting a decent day’s pay for work went a long way to changing minds.

  The bone-weariness settling across his shoulders made him long for bed. He had a lot to do tomorrow to prepare for Miss Colter’s return, and for some courting of his own come evening.

  The thought of Amber cheered him considerably. Being in her company had become his favorite pastime. But whether they had a chance for a future, he wasn’t sure. Not because of her, but because of the responsibility it would bring. He thought of his grandparents and how they’d held hands and prayed each morning. Grandpa never tried to do it all on his own, but took comfort in the Good Book.

  The mare pulled up, snorting. To the left, something light lay on the ground. “Hey there. Are you hurt?”

  Stone dismounted, moving toward it through the brush. A dark shape swooped in, and his shock at being struck fell with him to the wet ground.

  Chapter Eight

  Rubble—coarse, rough-edged stone often used as fill; what’s left after construction

  Saturday had the bluest sky of the week, a sign of how cold and clear this February day was. Which was why Amber hadn’t expected to perspire. She’d bustled around El Tovar as if one of the staff and together they’d transformed it for tonight’s party. With the help of Mrs. Bunch’s granddaughter, Gretchen, she’d folded paper flowers until her fingers ached, and recreated Victorian valentines into poster-sized decorations. It had been a cheery task, though the quiet, efficient girl kept her mouth closed to hide her teeth when she smiled.

  Red ribbons and crepe paper carnations in pink, white and red brightened the lobby and dining rooms. A trio was scheduled to perform, and couples—mostly genteel society—had arrived on the train. So far there’d been no sighting of Miss Colter.

  Thankfully.

  Amber had been so bent on proving herself capable and independent, it had clouded her reasoning. She wasn’t sure she could face the woman.

  Dyes from the paper left her fingers red. They weren’t pretty hands, but they carried the talents she’d been blessed with.

  This had been a mistake.

  She didn’t have to be the next Miss Colter when she could be the best, and original, Miss Wynott. No matter how hard she studied to be an architect, she may never understand the physics of it. Instead, she reveled in shape, design, colors, textures. Creating art was her passion.

  She stepped outside onto El Tovar’s wide verandah porch. “Mr. Barley. Nice to see you.”

  Barley gestured to his new suit. He’d also had a haircut and a tidy trim of his beard.

  She nodded approval. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine today—wouldn’t you know it. I feel ten years younger, even if I missed my party yesterday.” He leaned close in conspiracy. “Fact is, I was wrong about my birthday. It’s the thirteent
h alrighty but in March. I’m sorry to have put you to so much trouble.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize. We’re sorry you missed our picnic. But I trust you had a nice evening with Mrs. Bunch, despite the fact the wolf ate the cake.”

  “By the way, Maybelle’s coming here tonight for the dance.”

  Amber tried to hide her surprise. Did the woman even have a dress? Not that she had to wear a dress, of course, but… “So it’s true. You’re sweet on her.”

  “I suppose I am. She’s a good woman, and she’s been good to me. Her husband’s been gone too long and there’s no sense in us both living alone.” He leaned closer. “Now that I have a job, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Tonight.” Though he looked far from confident.

  “Oh Barley, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

  He scratched his neck. “I’m not so sure she’s ready for a change.” He wiped his nose with a blue bandana and winked. “I’m a little set in my ways, so we might be bumping heads on occasion.”

  “I don’t see the problem.”

  “No, I suppose not. Speaking of Stone, I trust you two enjoyed your picnic?”

  Color rose on her face. “Yes, we did.” A strange notion worked its way across her mind about that mistaken birthday. Had she been bamboozled into that picnic?

  Barley shook his head. “I don’t know about the boy sometimes. Why go back to the rock pile if—”

  Miss Colter appeared in front of them. “I heard that, Mr. Barley. Apparently, my rock pile has yet to win you over.”

  Barley’s face blanched. “I say it with the highest respect, Miss Colter. You know that.”

  “I suppose I do,” she said, grinning. “So, my site manager is missing?”

  “We haven’t seen him,” Amber answered.

  “I arrived on yesterday’s train with a headache. Mr. Eliot ensured me a quiet evening before anyone knew I’d returned. I’ve brought Stone some good news.” She studied Amber. “And, well, he’d be a fool to miss a party, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Has Mr. Morrison been helpful?”

  Amber wished Barley hadn’t laughed.

  While Amber considered her answer, Miss Colter queried him. “Have they gotten on well?”

  “Like a mule team.”

  “Everyone’s been helpful,” Amber added quickly.

  “Good. We’ll discuss it tomorrow over dinner after the party-goers are back to the civilized world. Now, let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Miss Colter stomped out her cigarette and entered the building.

  Barley replaced his old bowler atop his head. “So what are you going to tell her?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Did you know Miss Colter tried her hands at many things along the way? Don’t worry about it.”

  Amber took Barley’s arm and pulled him away from the hotel’s main entry and down the steps. “I’m worried about Mrs. Bunch. What with all that business about her son.”

  “He’s frustrated all right. And like any mother, she’s worried.”

  “Can’t we find something for him to do here in the village?”

  “Nobody likes to eat crow, gal.”

  “Oh dear. Don’t I know it.”

  “You ain’t the only one.” He took another scan of the empty streets. “I think I’ll ride out the Hermit’s Road. I don’t know where my friend Stone’s gone, but I need him around later.”

  She took his arm and steered him toward the hotel entry. “But it’s a long ride in this weather. I’ll go with you and get someone to drive us.”

  “There won’t be any auto-mobiles. Not with the hotel so busy.”

  “You’re right.” Stone had to have gone off in his prized auto. “I’ll find him.” With a sudden warmth, she leaned over and kissed Barley’s cheek. “And I’ll see you later.”

  Amber pulled her coat closer, hugging herself against the wind whirling around the back of the hotel. Stone’s Dodge was right where he’d left it. Had he gone out on horseback again? She pressed her belly. Something was wrong, she just knew it.

  What if…

  Amber’s legs felt shaky; so did her stomach. What if he hadn’t come back last night? Oh Lord, keep him safe.

  “Miss Wynott. Come quick!” Gretchen pointed east along the rim.

  ~

  Stone stopped, and leaned forward, hands on his knees. El Tovar’s roof had finally come into view and he’d headed straight for it along the empty road. He’d been walking long enough that his feet, clad in ill-fitting boots, were likely blistered. He’d find out when they thawed.

  A shout pulled his attention up ahead.

  Amber.

  He was moving again, but she made better work of closing the space between them.

  “Stone! What happened? Are you injured?”

  “I’m not sure.” His throat was raw.

  She clutched his shoulders, and those brown eyes he adored looked him over. “Did you fall off your horse?”

  “Not me.”

  Her hand was hot where she touched his face. “You’re like ice. What happened?” She propelled him toward the hotel’s back door.

  “I went out to the Bunch ranch yesterday afternoon. I talked to—” he paused, staring at the girl who’d joined them. “You were there.”

  “Yes, sir,” the girl replied, her face darkening.

  “And you have no idea who hit me over the head?”

  Amber gasped. “Of course she wouldn’t. Gretchen?”

  If the girl replied, he didn’t hear it.

  “Where did it happen?”

  “Right here.” Stone touched the back of his head again and winced. Dried blood stuck in his hair.

  “Oh, you ridiculous man! I mean, where were you?”

  Joyous relief to be back in her company cracked his dry lips. “On the way back here.” If he could hide the fact he ached in every frozen joint, she might stop staring like he was back from the dead. “I woke up in the dark. No horse. No way to see where I was going. And with a throbbing headache.”

  “You slept outside?” Amber turned his collar up, fussing. “A hot bath and warm milk will help.” Joe’s daughter had disappeared. How, he wondered, did she arrive this morning and not pass the place where he’d spent a miserable night?

  Had he wandered so far from the trail?

  At least whoever had hit him hadn’t chosen to do so near the edge, somewhere along the canyon’s rim. He stole a look at Amber. Miserable with worry and close enough to kiss, but it would take more strength than he had.

  “Are you going to take care of me, now? I’d almost think—”

  ~

  Amber thought it too. She’d fallen for him. She gave him her most motherly stare—reprimanding him even though she wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. “Stop teasing.”

  Gretchen exited the hotel with Mr. Eliot. He half ran to their side.

  “Stone. Where have you been?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but took Stone’s other arm. “We’ve sent for Mrs. Bunch.”

  “Good,” Amber said. “We’ll need to check his thick skull.”

  “No new cracks, my dear.”

  That moment of fear still had her shaken. But he was as contrary as ever. “No, not yet. Stop arguing with me.” With the manager’s help, they had Stone up the back steps, into the hotel, and into the office.

  “Sit here,” Eliot suggested. “Gretchen, will you bring tea from the kitchen?”

  Amber had the slightest urge to help Stone Morrison to his seat faster than he was moving. Honestly. His self-satisfaction said he was enjoying her fussing, and would probably be fine by tomorrow.

  “You should have been a nurse, Miss Wynott. Such a kind manner.”

  “Hmph.”

  “With a head injury like this, I think you should hold my hand.”

  She had to laugh but the hotel manager wasn’t s
o inclined. She’d tried not to encourage Mr. Eliot’s attentions, but had he taken her polite conversation as interest in him as a suitor?

  Her face colored. Stone Morrison on the other hand…

  Mrs. Bunch came in with a little basket. “Let me see,” she said, moving Stone’s head around to examine the wound under better light. “Any lower and you’d be vulture food.”

  “Good thing I ducked, then.”

  Mrs. Bunch swabbed on a salve that could have been green or yellow—it was hard to tell.

  Stone grimaced with good reason. Mrs. Bunch wasn’t gentle and the stuff stank to high heaven. “Are you done ma’am? I’d like to get up to my room. Much as the company here is pleasant.”

  Gretchen returned, trying not to spill tea onto the saucer. “Here you go, Mr. Morrison.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s your vision?” Amber asked him.

  “I’m not sure. Do you see any damage?”

  As soon as she leaned closer, he grinned and received a swat on his arm. Amber laughed. “I predict a full recovery, don’t you, Mrs. Bunch?”

  “No doubt.”

  Stone rose from the seat, slower than usual, but steady. “Thanks, ma’am.” He turned then to address Mr. Eliot. “Can you find out about my horse? See if she returned?”

  “I think we would have heard if she came back without a rider.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  “I’ll check with the groom right now. The staff will ready a bath for you, and then you better rest, Morrison.” Mr. Eliot was out the door.

  When Mrs. Bunch and Gretchen left, Stone nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.” They walked side-by-side into the foyer. “Well, look at all this,” he said, taking in the decorations.

  Amber moved him along. “I’ll save you some of those cute candy hearts. Because you’ll be too busy resting.”

  “Isn’t Miss Colter back?”

  Oh no. She’d forgotten. “Yes, she is.” But if Amber mentioned Miss Colter’s good news, he’d be off to track her down. “I’ll tell her what happened. I’m sure she’ll understand.”