Brides of Noelle

by Kit Morgan

  “Perfect.” Rev. Hammond attacked his eggs.

  “Norah, have you spoken with the other women volunteers about the food?” Felicity asked.

  “Yes, and Birdie and I are organizing things today.”

  “Agatha and Josefina from the café are in charge of the tartes or maybe I should say, pies. I’ve caught myself speaking my first language a lot more since Grand-père Gus keeps encouraging me to use what he calls my fancy words.”

  Dorcas smiled at her. She liked her fancy words too.

  “Wonderful,” Felicity said. “And the decorations?”

  “Ophelia told me they’re coming along.” Birdie glanced around. “Where is Ophelia?”

  “Oh, about that.” Felicity wiped her mouth with a napkin. “She’s, um … not feeling well this morning.” She smiled and winked at Birdie.

  Birdie’s dark-blue eyes lit up. “You mean?”

  “We think so,” Felicity said. “But we’re not sure yet.”

  Norah elbowed Seamus in the ribs. “So don’t ye go telling folks until we know.”

  “I won’t tell a soul,” he replied defensively, waving a piece of bacon at her.

  “See that you don’t,” Norah snapped, then gave him a peck on the cheek before she looked around the table. “Best the rest of ye ignore that bit of news.”

  “My lips are sealed!” Jasper yelped.

  Dorcas giggled at the exchange. She had no idea who Ophelia was, but wanted to meet her. She enjoyed the people of Noelle – there was a unity among them that she didn’t see in Denver. Dorcas didn’t have many friends there, and after Daphne left an emptiness grew that she couldn’t fill. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d accepted Vernon’s marriage proposal … though most of the reason had been her parents’ pressure.

  They finished the meeting, and soon everyone was leaving. Elwood pulled Jasper aside to ask him about Marshal Gant. The excitement in his voice was hard to miss – he was genuinely excited to get more information, any information about the marshal. Dorcas wondered if he’d be like this all the time when it came to preparing his stories, and it worried her. Father had also put things before people, and she didn’t want that in her marriage. Oh dear – was she escaping Vernon only to marry a man just like Father? Would that really be any better?

  Doubt made her gut twist. She watched Elwood speak with the old miner, his hands moving all over as he talked. He was delightfully handsome doing so. But now her heart sank at the sight.

  Chapter Seven

  “Have you seen much of the town yet?” Birdie asked.

  “My goodness!” Dorcas said, a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

  “Je suis désolée, I didn’t mean to.” Birdie glanced at Elwood, who was still speaking with Jasper. “Sapristi, he looks excited, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he certainly does.”

  “What are they discussing?”

  “The marshal Jasper mentioned. Elwood is writing a book – his main character is some sort of sheriff.”

  “Oh yes, Jack mentioned that the other day. We like Elwood a lot. He’s a fascinating man.”

  “Is he? I’m afraid I don’t know him well enough yet to say. He’s obviously well-read, though.”

  Birdie laughed. “Since he’s opening a bookshop I’d imagine so. Have you seen his books yet?”

  “Not yet,” Dorcas confessed. “He showed me the shop, but there’s nothing in it right now.”

  “Oh, there will be. Jack said they start putting the shelving in today, so I’m sure that’ll keep Elwood busy. Would you like me to take you around town?”

  Dorcas smiled. She would like to see the rest of Noelle, small as it was, and to have a tour sounded like fun. “Yes, I would, very much.”

  “Splendide. I’m sure Jack can spare me for a few moments, and Gus and Agatha can take care of the post and freight. Let me speak with Jack a moment, then we’ll go.”

  Dorcas watched Birdie speak with her husband, who was talking with Rev. Hammond. She liked Birdie’s accent and wanted to know more about her.

  After a minute or two, she returned. “All right, let’s go.”

  Dorcas followed Birdie out the hotel doors to the street. They crossed it as Birdie pointed out each and every building, who owned them, what the businesses were and how she and eleven other brides had come to town last Christmas. “Zut, alors, what a week that was,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sure you’ll hear plenty of stories after you’ve settled in. Everyone will be taking turns inviting you to supper.”

  Dorcas smiled as they proceeded down the boardwalk and around the corner. “My heavens, what’s that over there? Was there a fire?”

  “It used to be a brothel – La Maison des Chats. That moved across the street. We’ll build something new where the old one burned down. Everyone’s been so busy helping Elwood with his bookshop, it stopped the cleanup there.”

  Dorcas looked across the street and noticed a woman scrubbing the porch steps. “That’s the new … brothel?” She felt odd even saying the word.

  “Oui.” Birdie pointed elsewhere. “Over on the corner, we’re building the church – well, a combination church and schoolhouse. The town couldn’t afford to build both at the same time. Felicity and Rev. Hammond will be able to move in soon – there’s a petite chambre, a small room in the back they can sleep in.”

  “The town is really growing,” Dorcas said. “I’m surprised Elwood was able to build his shop so quickly.”

  “Your Monsieur Hunter had the money to get everything he needed right away, and pay the workers. The church is being built with volunteer work and donations. Oh, and the finished building next to it is the women’s mission.”

  “A mission?” Dorcas asked.

  “When you see Daphne, I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it. Genevieve Kinnison is in charge of that. Her ideas are très fantastique. We hope to bring more women to Noelle, not to mention families. Once the railroad arrives, this town will really start to grow.”

  “I can see that,” Dorcas said as she surveyed the buildings around them.

  “Let me show you Cobb’s Penn, our mercantile.” Birdie led her back the way they’d come.

  Cobb’s Penn was fairly good-sized, but nothing like her father’s stores. They were immediately greeted by a pretty dark-haired woman behind the front counter. “Good morning, Birdie,” she said, then looked at Dorcas. “Hello.”

  “Good morning,” Dorcas replied.

  “Bonjour, Avis,” Birdie said. “This is Mademoiselle Dorcas Minx. She came from Denver to marry Monsieur Hunter, who is opening a bookshop.”

  Avis’s eyebrows rose with interest. “You don’t say? Welcome to Noelle, Miss Minx. Anything I can help you with?”

  “I’m giving her the grande tournée of our petit village,” Birdie explained.

  “And how do you like our little town so far?”

  Dorcas studied the shelves, automatically rearranging them in her mind. “I like it fine, thank you.” She took a few steps toward the counter, her eyes on the top shelf behind it. “Just curious – why do you keep the heavier items way up there? Doesn’t that make it difficult for you? What if someone gets hurt?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Avis said, turning to look. “Oh, those aren’t heavy. I use those boxes to store spools of string for now. They’re really quite light.”

  “Oh, I see. I know those large blue boxes often contain canned goods, or small heavy implements. My father owns dry goods stores.”

  Avis studied her a moment before her eyes flicked to Birdie. “I see. Thank you for your concern.”

  Dorcas went to a display of ribbons, hair brushes and other fripperies. “These are pretty.”

  “Yes, we just got those in from Denver,” Avis said with pride.

  “There’s a manufacturer out of Massachusetts that makes lovely ribbon,” Dorcas mused. “You should try ordering from them.”

  “That wouldn’t be Coleman’s Beau Petite Ribbon and Twine, would it?” Avis
asked.

  “Yes, it would,” Dorcas said with a smile.

  “Oh, they’re too expensive for us. People here don’t have that kind of money. These ribbons are sturdy, just the sort they need.”

  “Ah.” Dorcas put the ribbon down and went to another display, this one of women’s stockings. “And are you getting these from Burdock’s?”

  Avis exchanged a quick, irritated look with Birdie. “If you’re referring to Burdock’s in New York, again, too pricey.”

  “I see,” Dorcas forced a smile. She wasn’t making a very good impression. “What about …?”

  Avis sighed. “Miss Minx, around here we serve miners, ranchers and laborers. Noelle isn’t anything like Denver.”

  Dorcas realized her mouth was hanging open, snapped it shut and nodded. “Sorry. I … should have realized there would be a difference.”

  Avis shrugged. “What sells well in the city might not out here.”

  “She didn’t mean anything by it, Avis,” Birdie said. “All newcomers, us included, needed time to learn Noelle’s endearing peculiarities.”

  “I know,” Avis said. “But I also know that Cobb’s Penn meets the needs of everyone here just fine.”

  “Avis,” Dorcas said, hoping it was all right to use the woman’s first name. “I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean …”

  “As I said,” Avis cut in, “you’re not from around here. Did you live in Denver all your life?”

  “Since I was a baby.” Dorcas frowned. She was naïve, that was all there was to it.

  “That explains it, then,” Avis said with a hint of resentment. Clearly she didn’t like a stranger telling her how to do her job.

  Birdie moved to pour oil on the troubled waters. “Did you know that Mademoiselle Dorcas is good friends with Daphne Brooks?”

  “Is she?” Avis said. “I imagine you’re disappointed she isn’t here.”

  “I was, but I hear she’s returning any day now,” Dorcas said, still embarrassed.

  “I’ve heard that too. When are you getting married?”

  “Next Tuesday, if all goes well.”

  “I hope you’ll be very happy,” Avis replied.

  Dorcas saw the look on her face was genuine. Apparently she wasn’t going to hold her earlier foolishness against her. “Thank you.”

  “Splendide,” Birdie said with a note of forced cheerfulness. “Next we shall visit Nacho’s establishment.”

  “Nacho’s?” Dorcas said.

  “The only restaurant in town. We can have a cup of coffee if you like before I return you to Elwood’s shop.”

  Dorcas smiled at Avis and said, “That would be fine.” A cup of coffee would probably do her good. Maybe by the time she finished it, she wouldn’t feel like such a cretin.

  * * *

  By the time Dorcas and Birdie reached Elwood’s shop, Dorcas had come to realize just how naïve she was. Avis was right – having grown up in Denver, a small but rapidly growing city, and in a well-off family, she had no idea how people lived elsewhere. How would she know that Noelle would have different needs than Denver, or how the local mercantile met those needs? She’d have to educate herself on how people here thought, worked and lived. Noelle was an isolated town (at least until the railroad came), where people had to depend on one another.

  “Voilà! Here we are,” Birdie said. “I hope Avis wasn’t too rough on you. She tends to be … pointed.”

  “It’s all right,” Dorcas insisted. “She made me realize a few things.”

  “Many of us are from different parts of the country, or even different nations.” Birdie said as she studied the building. “I was born in Quebec and have only recently grown comfortable sharing my heritage.” She took Dorcas by the hand. “We all felt a little out of place when we arrived. Don’t feel bad if you do too.”

  “Thank you, Birdie. I do feel out of place.”

  “Don’t worry – once you and Elwood marry, you’ll be too busy helping your husband to worry about anything else. Now I’d better get back to my sewing. We’ll talk again soon. Au revoir pour le moment.”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  Birdie smiled, waved and was off. Dorcas watched her go, then went into the shop.

  Inside, men worked to put the shelving up. Elwood joined her and grinned, taking her hands in his. “There you are. Did you have a nice time with Birdie?”

  “Yes, I did.” She glanced around before looking at the floor, Avis’ admonishments still on her mind.

  “Dorcas.” He tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his. “What’s the matter, dear?”

  Her heart fluttered with the thought that he could read her so well. “Well, I met the proprietress of Cobb’s Penn and … made an awful fool of myself, I’m afraid.” She sighed.

  His brow knitting, he glanced around, took her by the hand and led her toward the back of the building. As soon as they reached the living quarters, he motioned her to sit. “Tell me what happened.”

  Dorcas sat in the chair offered. “I told you my father owns dry goods stores in Denver. Well, I saw a few things I thought could be improved upon in Cobb’s Penn and made suggestions – suggestions which turned out to be inappropriate, given that Noelle isn’t Denver. Avis rightfully set me straight …”

  Elwood laughed, reached across the table and took her hand. “I imagine so. The mercantile here’s probably nothing like what your father has back in Denver. And of course neither would come close to some of the stores in Boston.” He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles, sending a delightful shiver up her spine.

  “Thank you, Elwood, that makes feel better. It’s just that I’ve never left Denver, not since my parents moved there in ’59, when I was just a babe. This is the farthest from home I’ve ever been.”

  “That’s all right, you’ll learn.” He glanced toward the front of the store. “And I have plenty of books for you to learn from.”

  She laughed. “Thank you. I suppose I’d better start reading right away.”

  His other hand came up and covered hers. “You’ll like it here, trust me. People are friendly, kind and always willing to lend a helping hand.”

  Dorcas looked into his eyes and saw that he truly believed everything he said. Good – she could do with more friends. After Daphne left, she was devastated and withdrawn, not giving herself the chance to grow. Good heavens, had she defined herself by her relationship with Daphne all these years? She hoped not, but … she shook her head at the thought.

  “Dorcas?”

  “I’m simply going to have to remember that I’m not tucked safely away in Denver anymore.”

  He gave her hands a squeeze. “No, you’re not. You’re here, safe with me now.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Elwood,” she said as her cheeks grew hot. “That means a lot to me.”

  He chuckled and gazed into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, Dorcas Minx, you are. Wait a minute, what am I saying? You’re soon to be Dorcas Hunter. And Dorcas Hunter is very beautiful indeed.”

  She looked him over. “Well … you’re a very handsome man.”

  His ears turned pink. “Thank you,” he said. “Good thing to hear from the woman I’m about to marry.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand again and sighed heavily.

  “Tired?” she asked.

  “Lot to do.”

  “Can I help?”

  Elwood’s eyes roamed her face. She suddenly felt warm all over, and more relaxed than she’d been since … well, since Father had told her she’d soon be Dorcas Fink. Dorcas Hunter was a decided improvement.

  They left the table and went up front, where Elwood left her by the counter and went to speak with a few workers. She watched him in admiration. Here was a hard-working man willing to leave everything behind, travel to a speck of a town and start a new life. He had courage, lots of it. More than she did.

  Dorcas lean
ed against the counter and sighed. She still hadn’t told him the real reason she was there – that she’d left Denver to escape one marriage by jumping into another. She couldn’t wait for Daphne any longer – she had to get this over with. For Heaven’s sake, at this point she was being ridiculous. Daphne would likely tell her to do it anyway and hang the consequences.

  She did want to marry, had wanted to for a long time, but had instinctively waited for Daphne to go first. She’d always dreamed they’d marry about the same time, have children and be neighbors. But this wasn’t a dream world – she had no control over Daphne’s life any more than she did over how Avis ran her store or Elwood wrote his books. But she did have control of herself, which meant she had control of when to tell Elwood about Vernon.

  Elwood was back at her side and took her hand. “Got to fetch more books from Jack’s place. Care to help me organize them?”

  “I’d love to.” She swallowed hard. “But there’s something I need to speak with you about first.”

  “Certainly.” He motioned her toward the back of the building again.

  They hadn’t taken two steps when there was a commotion outside. Several men shouted greetings to someone, and the next thing she knew, a familiar frame stood in the doorway. “Oh my goodness – Daphne!” She ran to her friend.

  “Dorcas?” Daphne said as they fell into each other’s arms. “Felicity told me you were in town! I can hardly believe it.” She drew back, looked at Dorcas a moment, then at Elwood standing behind her. “Is this your husband?”

  “Not yet, but he will be.” The tears started and wouldn’t stop.

  Daphne pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here, please don’t cry or I’ll start.”

  “I can’t help it! I have so much to tell you …”

  “I see the two of you need to catch up,” Elwood said with a smile. “Dorcas, why don’t you go and have a visit? I can handle the books.”

  “Really?” she said before blowing her nose. “My goodness, I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. It was warm, gentle, reassuring. “You haven’t seen your friend in a long while. I understand that. At least they’re happy tears.”