by Kit Morgan
“We needed to speak with Clint first,” Chase said as he re-entered the cabin with Jasper. “Have a seat, Jasper. I’ll fetch you some water.”
“Jasper!” Walker said. “Your water, I’m sorry …”
“Think nothing of it, Sonny boy. Preacher here done explained everything. So, when’s the wedding?”
Walker looked at Daphne. “Sunday work for you?”
Overwhelmed with tears, she smiled and nodded.
He held her close. “Daphne, my sweet little fool. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said as she looked into his eyes. “No matter where we are, I’ll always love you.”
Walker smiled, and then kissed his future bride.
* * *
Come Sunday after Easter service, the saloon was still bursting with people for the wedding. Some of the miners weren’t happy about missing their post Sunday-service brawl, but understood and took their fisticuff fun to the street outside. Inside was full of bright and colorful flowers and ribbons. Most of which were being worn by the women folk. Daphne’s hats and bonnets sold out for the upcoming Easter holiday, and she and Walker couldn’t be happier. Even better, Ophelia and Felicity introduced her to Birdie Peregrine, and the two women talked about combining their skills in the future to accommodate the ladies in town as Noelle grew.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Colorado,” Reverend Hammond said, “I now pronounce you man and wife!”
A cheer went up. Daphne blushed, as did Walker. She thought it adorable. He thought it clashed with his “reputation.” But that didn’t matter. What did was …
“Walker, you may now kiss your bride.”
Walker smiled as he lifted Daphne’s veil from her face and said in a low voice. “Have I told you yet today how beautiful you look?”
Her blush deepened. “You haven’t had the chance until now,” she whispered back.
“Well, you are, and I’m in awe.”
“You can thank Mrs. Peregrine later. She did all of this. She’s a much better seamstress than I. I can’t believe she sewed this in less than a week!”
“Ahem,” Reverend Hammond said and made a show of clearing his throat.
“I guess this means I’d better kiss you,” Walker said.
“I guess,” she said with a smile as her eyes closed. He waggled his brows at Father O’Flanagan and the Kinnisons who were in the front, and then kissed her. Another cheer went up from the attending townsfolk as Walker deepened the kiss. It was only their second, and he was making it count.
“Ahem,” Reverend Hammond said again as the kiss continued.
Father O’Flanagan chuckled. “Can he keep that up long?”
“We’ve seen what he can do,” Mrs. Kinnison commented dryly. Her husband Zeke gave her a side-long glance filled with curiosity.
“Don’t ask,” she said with a smile. “Everything has worked out fine. It always does.”
Zeke smiled, nodded, and continued to watch the kissing pair.
When Walker finally broke the kiss, another cheer went up. From Reverend Hammond, for the most part. “Hurray! That’s the longest one to date,” he added under his breath. “Let’s celebrate!”
Charlie and Penny approached. “Congratulations, Walker, Daphne. Let me be the first to welcome you into the community.”
“Thank you, sir,” Walker said.
“We’ll miss you at the mine, but your new job will suit you better. Let me know when we can all sit down and discuss your investment in the mine.”
Walker and Daphne nodded, smiles on their faces. It took some time to get through the well-wisher and congratulations, but once done, the happy couple was able to sit. They watched as Norah and Seamus, who insisted on hosting the festivities afterward, bustled about serving refreshments as a few musicians took the small stage and prepared to play.
“This place will be quite something when Seamus has it remodeled,” Daphne commented. “Norah told me all about his plans.”
“Seamus told me,” Walker said. “Noelle will have a hotel with a restaurant, some homes built by then …”
“Ours too?” she asked hopeful.
“We’ll see. We have to report to the Wells Fargo office in San Francisco, remember? We’ll be there a good stretch. Months according to Clint. By the time we come home, they should be about done with the railroad.”
She rested her head against his shoulder as the wedding celebration began to get underway. “I can’t wait to come back.”
He looked at her and laughed. “You haven’t left yet!”
“I know it’s just … the people, the dreams they have for this place … they’ve grown on me.”
He put an arm around her. “Me too. Chase and Charlie tell me they plan on having a big to-do once the railroad’s complete. By their calculations, it should be done in time for the Fourth of July. Those two are planning quite the party to hear them talk.”
Daphne sighed. “I’m going to miss the Hammonds and the Hardts and the …”
“Me too?”
Daphne looked up into Ophelia’s smiling face. She stood and hugged her. “Yes, and you too. We’ll write each other every week, agreed?”
“And you’ll tell me all about San Francisco, you won’t leave anything out?” Ophelia said.
“No, I won’t. Especially the words, thank you.”
Ophelia smiled. “You made the right choice, Daphne. You both did.”
Walker stood and put an arm around his new bride. “Thank you, Ophelia. You, Clint and everyone else in town have been so kind to us.”
“Whoo whee! Will ya look at that!” Jasper cried from across the saloon when Seamus brought out a bottle of his special whiskey.
The three laughed. “You and Clint will be sure to look out for Jasper,” Walker said.
“Yes, Clint found out he’s skilled in carpentry work. Seems your tent mate has been holding out on you and the rest of us. Clint plans on asking Charlie about hiring Jasper to help build the new bank.”
“It would be better for Jasper than working in the mine,” Daphne said. “Until the work is done, that is.”
“With all the building going on in this town?” Ophelia said with a smile. “He’ll be kept busy enough. Jack Peregrine can’t do it all. Speaking of which, I’d best go find Clint.” She gave them each a hug and a parting smile, then left.
Walker and Daphne sat once more. “Noelle will be quite different when we return for the Fourth of July celebration, won’t it?” she asked.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it will still be Noelle. Bigger perhaps, with more people settled by then, but still our Noelle.”
“Our Noelle,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that.”
He gazed into her eyes and smiled. “So do I.” And with that, they shared their third kiss.
THE END
Dorcas
Brides of Noelle
ANGEL CREEK PRESS
Dorcas: An Independence Day Bride
Brides of Noelle, Book 6
by Kit Morgan
© 2018 Kit Morgan
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Chapter One
Boston, Massachusetts, March 1877
“You want me to do what?” Elwood Zachariah Hunter paced across his father’s office. “I won’t!”
“Yes, you will!” his father shouted. Their argument was heating up by the minute.
Elwood placed his hands on the desk and leaned toward his father. At six-two, muscular, with flashing blue eyes and honey-gold hair, he was an imposing figure. He was also one of the most eligible bachelors in Massachusetts. His father Thomas, on the other hand, was short and portly, though with the same blue eyes. “Father, I’m going to say this only once. Under no circumstances will I marry that woman!”
Thomas stood and leaned as well, putting them nose-to-nose over the desk, though he had to stand on tiptoe to do it. “Gertrude Van Housen is a perfect match for you. Besides, the Van Housens have almost as much money as I do!”
“They’ve got a lot more,” Elwood corrected. “But they can keep Gertrude. I won’t marry her.”
“You will!” Thomas shot back. “In four months’ time, if I have my way. Your mother and Mrs. Van Housen are already planning the wedding.”
“What?!” Elwood said in shock. “They can’t do that – we’re not even engaged!”
“You will be. I’ve already written the announcement for the newspapers.”
Elwood grabbed handfuls of his hair to keep from hitting something. He didn’t want to disrespect the man, but wasn’t his father disrespecting him? He knew other families arranged marriages, but didn’t think his would be one of them – or that his father would be so insistent. “I won’t do it. You and Mr. Van Housen can find someone else to marry Gertrude.”
Mr. Hunter sighed and leaned wearily against the desk. “It’s a good match, son,” he said, trying a new tactic. “And think of your mother – do you want to break her heart?”
Elwood folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. “The only thing that would break Mother’s heart is if you canceled her credit at the stores. Now if that’s all you wanted, I’ll be going.”
“What do you mean, if that’s all I wanted? You’re creating a catastrophe!”
“And you just asked me to throw my life away. I’d say that’s catastrophic enough. Good night, Father.” He turned on his heel and strode for the door.
“If you leave this room without agreeing to this marriage, then don’t come back.”
That stopped Elwood in his tracks. He slowly turned to face him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I certainly can. If you walk out that door, I’ll disinherit you.”
Elwood’s eyes widened in shock, then quickly narrowed. “You think so little of me?”
“I’m thinking about the future of this family!”
“You’re thinking of your bank accounts.”
His father’s eyes bulged as he turned red. Elwood knew that look – the man was about to go up like a volcano. “The Van Housen fortune coupled with ours would make us one of the richest families in the East!”
Elwood closed his eyes and shook his head in dismay. “Exactly my point. Father, when did money become more important than family?”
“I’m doing this for our family!”
Elwood opened his eyes. “No, you’re doing this for you. Mr. Van Housen is no doubt doing it for himself as well. Does Gertie even want to marry me?”
“Aha!” his father said in triumph. “You called her by her nickname! I knew you always liked her.”
“Father, we grew up together, that’s why I know her nickname. But she’s rude, condescending and not a very nice person. Besides that, she’s …”
“So what if she has a few extra pounds on her?” his father interrupted. “At least you’ll never lose sight of her.”
“Father, that’s a horrible thing to say. Gertrude Van Housen may be large, but that’s beside the point. She’s mean. I could never marry a mean-spirited woman.”
“She’ll keep you in line.” Thomas smacked the desktop. “Confound it, boy, why won’t you listen to reason? It’s not like you’re doing anything with your life!”
Elwood straightened. “I am and you know it.”
Mr. Hunter laughed. “You mean writing your silly novels? Balderdash! Bad enough you read so much trash, but writing it? Ha!”
“It’s what I love,” Elwood looked him in the eye.
“It won’t make you money,” he barked back. “Helping run the family business will. Shipping is what we do and will be until the day we die! How do you think you can afford those books of yours? Hunter Shipping, that’s how! If Reginald Van Cleet had a daughter, I’d marry you off to her, but he and his brother Cyrus have no children. The Van Housens are the next best thing.”
Elwood shook his head again. “This conversation is getting us nowhere, Father. I know what I want to do with my life. If you’d listen to me, you know that marrying Gertrude is not it.”
“And if you’d listen to me, you’d understand the sense in this. We could rule the East Coast!”
“At the expense of my and Gertrude’s happiness.”
“Yours, maybe, but she’s ecstatic about it.”
Elwood paled. “She is?”
“Of course she is! She’s had her cap set for you for years!”
Elwood gulped. This changed things. Even had he considered his father’s proposal, he would never marry a woman as vicious as Gertrude, who’d liked to pull the legs off of spiders and throw rocks at birds as a child. In adulthood, she preferred using gossip and cutting remarks on human victims. The thought of marrying her was horrifying!
“Well?” his father prompted. “Are you going to agree to this or not? You now know the consequences should you choose unwisely.”
Elwood took a deep breath and looked his father in the eyes. There was only one thing to do. “Goodbye, Father.” He turned and walked out the door.
“You’ll regret this, you whelp!” his father screamed after him, then added for good measure, “You milksop!”
* * *
“Milksop? Milksop!” Elwood fumed as he packed his bags. Milksop, indeed. Was the thought of marrying Gertrude Van Housen so repulsive as to move him to leave Boston and family? In a word, yes. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t just running from an unwanted marriage. No, he was running to his destiny. He’d go west, open a bookshop somewhere, write his novels and live out his days in peace. He’d have to speak with his friend and fellow bibliophile Luke to arrange storage for his library before he boarded the train.
He continued to stuff clothes into two satchels. He never had liked the shipping business. Besides, Cyrus Van Cleet had left his company to seek adventure on the frontier – why couldn’t he? Cyrus, one of the biggest shipping moguls in Boston, was an inspiration. The man had gone west 25 years before, and had been out there ever since. But most of all, there were stories to be told out West, and Elwood knew he was the one to tell them. There were publishers in San Francisco he could approach with his novels.
But first he had to figure out where to go …
“Wait a minute.” He snapped his fingers. “Draven!”
He finished packing as thoughts of the notorious Sheriff Draven raced through his mind. He’d been following the man’s career for some time, and heard he’d settled in an obscure mining town in Colorado. Draven was the epitome of a frontier hero, rough, tough and one of the fastest guns around – the perfect model for his character Sheriff “Polecat” Pete Savage.
Elwood paused to stare at his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Granted, he was decent-looking, tall, strong. When he wasn’t working in at his father’s office, he lifted stacks of books with Luke when they volunteered at the local libraries. They both taught in their spare time and devoured books like nobody’s business, even ordering them from London – thanks to his father’s shipping company, they got them at a fair price. But he wasn’t rough or tough or any kind of gunhand – not like Draven.
He s
tared at his private library, his most precious possession – so large it only left space in his room for the bed. How was he going to move all of them and quickly? He’d need help, that was certain. He’d speak to Luke about them too, and make arrangements for his other books, the ones he kept with Luke’s at a small warehouse near his father’s office. Once he got settled somewhere he could send for them all, and the rest of his belongings.
His satchels packed, Elwood set them aside, reached for his coat and hat and headed downstairs and outside. He looked at the windows of his father’s study – was he still inside, or had he left to head to his office? Or perhaps straight to his lawyers to disinherit his son? It was a good thing Elwood had the foresight when he was younger to see to his own fortune and save his money. He was frugal, except for buying books.
Somewhere deep down, he’d known this day could come. He and his father never did see eye to eye on his vocation. Thomas Hunter wanted him to take over the family shipping business; Elwood wanted to write and open a bookstore. The two occupations’ only similarity was that both required management skills, which Elwood thankfully possessed in abundance. Could he run Hunter Shipping? Of course. Did he want to? Absolutely not – especially not if it meant marrying Gertrude Van Housen. He shuddered at the thought.
He headed up the street to his bank, went inside and approached a teller. “May I help you, Mr. Hunter?” the teller asked.
Elwood cleared his throat. “Yes, you may. I’d like to close my account.”
The teller blanched and pulled at his shirt collar. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Elwood said emphatically. “And no, it’s not for any reason of the bank’s service, which has been commendable. I’m just making … new arrangements.”