by Kit Morgan
“Well, either way, I find them delightful.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “And you just missed Mrs. Vander putting Mr. Haverdash in his place.”
Ephraim’s eyebrows rose. “I would’ve loved to see that.”
“It was about you,” she said somberly.
“Oh? Anything I should be concerned about?”
“Not at all. It was over your supposedly being late.”
His brow furrowed as he pulled out a pocket watch.
“No need to check the time.” She placed her hand over his. “Mr. Haverdash was just being, well, Mr. Haverdash.”
He snapped the watch closed. “I see.” He looked at Beryl’s hand on his before his eyes drifted back to hers. “I wonder what else he’ll find to complain about this evening?”
She smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly – we’ll find out soon enough.”
He looked at their hands again, smiled and put his over hers. “I have nothing to complain about.”
That familiar tingle raced up her spine. His hand was large and warm, and she could sense his strength through that simple touch. “I’d hope not,” she said softly, cleared her throat and looked away.
He tugged on her hand to get her attention. “We should talk.”
“About?”
He smiled. “Our wedding, for one.” He leaned toward her. “Or the lack thereof. I’m sorry things got out of hand at my office with Mayor Vander, but that’s just him.”
“Katie told me he’s the biggest gossip in town.”
Ephraim nodded sagely. “That’s very true. But I hope I’ve at least bought us some time.”
She swallowed hard. He was still holding her hand, and she could feel herself warming all over. How could one touch make her whole body flush?
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
That didn’t help. She looked into his eyes. They were full of a concern she hadn’t seen before, and it was aimed at her. “I’m fine.”
He leaned closer. “Are you sure?”
He was dangerously close. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heated up a few more degrees. No more little tingles up her spine; it was more of a throbbing ache all over, and she had no idea why. It was as if he’d just opened some floodgates inside of her and everything was rushing out toward him.
“Beryl,” he whispered. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She nodded, unable to take her eyes from his. Darcy from the café popped into her head, that look of pain and longing in her eyes when she’d turned away from Mr. Markhel. She swallowed hard. “H-have you had a chance to speak with Darcy?”
“Darcy?” he said, confused. “Oh, no, I haven’t.”
“Oh.” She wondered if her knees might give out. Standing next to him was intoxicating. She didn’t know what she’d do when he moved away, and he would have to move – they shouldn’t be this close while conversing. But so far, no one had said a word. Perhaps the rigors of Baltimore and Denver society didn’t apply here.
He raised his glass and took a sip of lemonade. “Try it. Betsy makes the best in town.”
She’d forgotten she held a glass in her other hand and was surprised she hadn’t dropped it. She swirled the contents a few times, then took a sip. It was delicious. The man before her, more so. Suddenly she couldn’t get enough of him. And all he’d done was put his hand over hers. What was happening?
“Beryl,” he whispered.
Good heavens, did he feel it too? She looked into his eyes, searching. It was as if they were uniting somehow just by standing there, and she had no logical explanation why.
“Beryl,” he repeated, drawing closer.
Her lips automatically parted.
“Oh, Dr. Stone,” Mrs. Vander called.
He stopped, panting, and drew away. “Yes, Mercy?”
“Mercy?” Petunia blurted. “He calls you by your first name?”
“We’re all friends here in Independence,” Mrs. Vander said with a smile. “Do come sit with us, Ephraim. And bring your lovely bride with you.”
Mrs. Vander had broken the spell. Ephraim looked into Beryl’s eyes one last time. “We’d love to.” He turned to face the others and crossed to where Mercy sat, never relinquishing Beryl’s hand.
“Sit, tell us about your plans for the future,” Mrs. Vander said brightly.
Ephraim shot Beryl an uh-oh look. He led her to a chair, then took the one next to it. “We have no plans as yet, Mercy.”
“But what about the wedding?” she said with a hint of disappointment.
“Perhaps Horace hasn’t told you. Miss Branson and I have decided to court for a time to make sure we suit.”
“What?” Mercy said in surprise. “Horace, is this true?”
“What’s that, dear?” Horace replied, a hand cupped to his ear.
“She asked if it was true!” Mr. Haverdash shouted.
“Oh, yes, yes.” Mayor Vander said, then looked at his wife. “Is what true?”
“Oh, for the love of …,” Mr. Haverdash grumbled. “She wants to know if it’s true that Dr. Stone and Miss Branson wish to court to see if they’ll suit.” He spun to them. “Which, I might add, is a silly idea. You came here as a mail-order bride, Miss Branson, and mail-order brides do not court. They get married right away.” He narrowed his eyes at Beryl for good measure.
“Well, Horace?” Mrs. Vander said.
“Er … well, what?”
Ephraim smiled. “Before you ask, yes, they’re always like this.”
She was about to, if only to distract her from the antics of Katie’s father. If he wasn’t awake before, he certainly was now. The laudanum must have worn off. “I see.”
“Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
She smiled again and looked around the room. It was far lovelier than she expected in such a small town, even if it was the mayor’s house. “Where is your friend Fletcher and his wife?”
“I believe they’re dining at his parents’ home this evening. Why?”
She glanced at Mercy and Petunia, now discussing Mrs. Vander’s rose garden. Mr. Haverdash and Mr. Vander were now standing next to the portrait on the other side of the room, where she and Ephraim had been a minute before. She had no idea what they were talking about and didn’t care. She’d been swept away by the man seated next to her, the others in the room fading into a cloudy limbo. The only clear thing was Ephraim Stone.
“Beryl?”
She jumped. “Sorry.” She swallowed hard and folded her hands in her lap. What was wrong with her?
He leaned closer. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I … I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. This was so new, so foreign, she couldn’t even put a name on it.
“Shall I escort you back to the hotel?”
“What? No,” She shook her head. “Why? Do I look ill?”
“You look …” His eyes roamed over her. “You look beautiful.”
She gasped. Her heart felt as if it was unfurling like a flower. In that moment, the world became a wide-open expanse of possibilities, of warmth and laughter and love, all through the man seated in the chair next to hers. But how could this be? She liked him, yes, but where was all of this coming from?
He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “I’ll keep an eye on you this evening.”
She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. My goodness, but he was handsome, and the warmth in his eyes could melt an iceberg. Good thing, too – they still had to get through the rest of the evening with the Haverdashes. For now, the Vanders were keeping them occupied, but it was only a matter of time before Mr. Haverdash started in again. Would he do it during dinner? Dessert?
“Who’s the local preacher?” she heard him say. “I’d like to introduce Miss Branson to him, begin making the arrangements.”
She turned in her chair. “There’s no need for that,” she said sweetly. “We’re courting first, remember?”
He smiled right back. “We’ll see what your fathe
r has to say about your so-called courting.”
She shook herself. “Excuse me?”
Mr. Haverdash smirked proudly. “As you’re in my care, so to speak, I took the liberty of alerting him to your plans. After all, your parents ought to know what you’re doing here.”
She gasped and dropped her lemonade. “You did what!?”
“Oh, the carpet!” Mrs. Vander cried. “Betsy!”
Mr. Haverdash’s smile grew. “There’s a telegraph office in this town, Miss Branson, or didn’t you know? You should’ve used it by now.”
She blanched. “You didn’t.”
“I did it before we left Denver. Someone had to ensure you’d do the right thing, and that someone is me. Why else would I offer to escort you down the aisle? You can’t expect your parents to cut their European holiday short just because you got it in your head to run off to become a mail-order bride. I can only imagine how disappointed in you they must be.”
A hand flew to her mouth. “You awful man.”
Ephraim stood. “What are you talking about?”
Mr. Haverdash pointed at her. “Your mail-order bride has run away. Why else would she be here? She’s just using you, young man. You’re nothing but a means to an end.”
Beryl sat in stunned silence as Betsy cleaned the Persian carpet around her chair. This was getting out of hand. Worse still, the sense of being pulled closer to Ephraim, of being enfolded in his presence, was gone, leaving a cold emptiness in its place.
“Is this true?” Ephraim asked softly.
Beryl closed her eyes and gave him the only answer she could. “I’m afraid so.”
Chapter Ten
Ephraim stared at Beryl. What was she talking about? Was she in the same sort of trouble Katie had been when she first came to town? Was she trying to escape an unwanted marriage? “Beryl …”
“I’m sorry.” She met his gaze with difficulty. “But not all of what he says is true.”
“Isn’t it?” Mr. Haverdash preened. Ephraim could hear the pride in his voice – he was happy as a clam to have dropped his juicy tidbit into everyone’s lap. Especially Beryl’s. What a blackguard.
Beryl put her face in her hands and groaned. She was frustrated; he could tell but wasn’t sure how to question her on the matter in mixed company. He decided to leave it for now and just get through the evening. She would tell him when she was ready. Thank Heaven she wasn’t a real mail-order bride, or he might be having second thoughts.
“Is it coming out, Betsy?” Mrs. Vander asked, oblivious to the recent conversation. It was just as well.
“Yes, ma’am.” She continued to scrub, but looked up at Ephraim and Beryl and shook her head. “Mm-hm. You two got yourselves some things to discuss.”
“Who asked you?” Mr. Haverdash snapped.
Betsy stopped, turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you give me any trouble. I’ve got enough trying to get this stain out.”
His jaw went slack. “Mayor Vander! How can you let a servant speak to a guest like that?”
Mayor Vander just smiled. “That’s our Betsy!”
Mr. Haverdash seethed.
“Oh, Betsy’s been with us for ages!” Mercy gushed. “She’s a godsend, she is.”
Petunia, looking thoroughly confused, glanced at Mr. Haverdash and shrugged.
It was all Ephraim could do not to guffaw. Someone should’ve warned them about the Vander household, but he was glad no one had. It broke the tension created by Mr. Haverdash’s earlier rant and gave Beryl a chance to recover.
Sure enough, she took a deep breath and looked at him again. “We’ll talk later.”
He smiled back. “Of course.”
“Dinner is served,” Cecil announced.
Mr. Haverdash jumped, and Ephraim once again managed not to laugh. Cecil and Betsy were both experts at popping out of thin air. Even Beryl looked surprised.
In the dining room after everyone was seated, Cecil served. Betsy was still battling the carpet and the occasional disgruntled remark drifted their way. Beryl smiled at the maid’s colorful vocabulary, glanced at him and he made sure he smiled back. Unfortunately, she was seated on Mayor Vander’s left, while he was at the other end of the table by Mrs. Vander with the Haverdashes in between. Even worse, the Vanders’ dining table was huge. You almost needed a telegraph line to communicate with the opposite end.
But it did give him a chance to observe Beryl quietly between spoonfuls of soup. She was a dainty eater, constantly looking around. But his attention was on her. He would ask her questions later, find out if she needed help, if need be make sure that Mr. Haverdash left town quietly so as not to upset her or Katie further. That is, if Jace didn’t see to it first.
Still, there was still the problem of Katie’s relationship with her parents. If not handled properly, she wouldn’t have one.
By the time dessert rolled around Ephraim had formed a plan. He just hoped more people didn’t start thinking he was the next in town to be married. Not that he could stop it – once Mayor Vander walked out his door, it would be all over town. He just hoped it wasn’t already.
Mrs. Haverdash sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “I must say, Mrs. Vander, that was the best meal I’ve had in years!”
“Thank you,” Mercy giggled.
“I have to agree with my wife,” Mr. Haverdash said. “Where did you obtain your cook, Paris?”
“Oh, no – Betsy’s been our cook and maid for decades.”
The Haverdashes’ exchanged a look of surprise. “Maid?” Mr. Haverdash said in shock.
“Yes,” Mercy said with a smile. “What’s wrong with that?”
“And she taught Cecil everything she knows.” Mayor Vander laughed. “So if Betsy can’t cook, Cecil does just as good a job!”
“How … convenient,” Mr. Haverdash mumbled.
Beryl smiled and put her head down to hide it. Ephraim watched, smiling as well. His heart went out to this bold woman who stood up for what she thought was right. The last thing she needed was someone like Haverdash to make things difficult for her.
The party retired to the parlor. Betsy served coffee, smiling at Beryl and Ephraim as she poured them each a cup, then winked before she left the room. “What was that all about?” Beryl asked softly.
“She thinks we’re getting married. Which surprises me – Betsy usually has things figured out before most people.”
“Yet she hasn’t figured out that we’re not really …”
“No.” He smiled. “I’ll escort you back to the hotel when the time comes.”
She smiled back. “Thank you, but I can manage.”
“No, you can’t.”
Her head titled to one side. “Ephraim …”
“First, a young single lady should be escorted after dark, whether in Denver or the wilds of Oregon. Second, I’m sorry Haverdash has put you in such a position, and you don’t have to tell me why you’re really here, but I do want to help.”
She half-smiled. “Thank you, but only part of what he said is true.”
He decided to ask her now. “You’re not escaping an unwanted marriage?”
“Heavens, no,” she said quietly. “I’m here for the reason I’ve told you – to make sure Katie’s parents don’t meddle too much.” She rolled her eyes. “That, and to prove my point that becoming a mail-order bride can lead to happiness.”
“And your parents?”
“An oversight – I should have wired them, told them where I was going, but I didn’t want them to get upset and cut their holiday short. They know I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?”
She smirked playfully “Is that a challenge?”
“I have a feeling that if I say yes, you’ll open a millinery shop on Main Street or something.”
She snorted. “I was thinking more along the lines of a newspaper.”
Now he snorted.
“What’s so funny? I think it would be a worthwhile venture.”
He let his eyes roam her face. She was lovely, so full of life and … strength, in more ways than one. But every strength could be a weakness. “Worthwhile, yes, if handled properly.” He smiled. “And if we didn’t already have one.”
She sighed and looked away.
“There are variables in any new venture,” he went on. “One must expect the unexpected.”
“Always.”
He tucked his finger under her chin and brought her face up. “Did you?”
She blinked as if clearing her vision, but her eyes were misting with tears. “Did I expect the unexpected? No.” She grimaced. “Rather obvious, isn’t it?”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He glanced at the Haverdashes on the other side of the room, speaking quietly with the Vanders. Hmm. “I’ll help you fix this. I promise.”
She followed his gaze. “Why are they being so quiet?”
“Good question. Mayor Vander is never quiet – and rarely looks so serious.”
“Oh, dear,” she sighed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“You didn’t. The Mad Matchmaker did. But that’s neither here nor there.”
“Yes, but it could happen again to someone else. This time it happened to be you.”
“Jace and I will deal with the Matchmaker later. There are more important matters to attend to.” He glanced at the other couples and back. “Like you.”
“Me?” Her brow knit.
“Yes. As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve gotten yourself in a scrape.” He held up his hand before she could object or apologize. “It’s fine, I understand. As a doctor I’ve bandaged more scrapes than you can count – and I’m not talking about knees or elbows.”
She smiled at that. “I admit I am a little over my head.” She sighed again. “No thanks to Mr. Haverdash over there.” They looked his way, noticed all four were watching them, and did their best not to groan. “I suspect he’s at it again.”
“I suspect you’re right, but let’s not worry about them. Together we can handle anything he can throw our way.”
She met his gaze and smiled. “I believe you’re right.”
He smiled back and fought the sudden urge to move closer. “I know I am.”
They continued to gaze at each other before Mayor Vander joined them. “Ahem …”
