Brides of Noelle

by Kit Morgan

  “Go? Just like that?” one of them said. “But Gertie, we came all this way – maybe the two of you could …”

  “I said, let’s GO!”

  The three glanced at each other, shrugged and began to leave.

  “Wait!” Elwood snapped. “Gertie Van Housen, get back here and apologize!”

  Gertrude turned to face him. “HA! I don’t believe I WILL. After what YOU did to me, I’d call us even.”

  He guided Dorcas behind him as Gertrude’s brothers gathered around her. “Apologize.”

  She smirked. “NO.” She stomped away, her brothers surrounding her like a queen’s guard.

  Elwood took a deep breath, let it out slowly and turned to Dorcas. “I am so sorry.”

  She stared at him, unable to think. “So am I,” she replied and walked away.

  As soon as she reached the safe confines of her room, she fell onto the bed and waited for the tears to fall. But she didn’t have any. She felt numb, used and wasn’t sure at this point what to think. Elwood had told her he was falling in love with her. Was this Gertrude telling the truth? Could she believe Elwood at this point? After all, there were two sides to every story …

  A knock on the door, then it flew open. “Dorcas! Are you all right?”

  She glanced at Daphne, then buried her face in a pillow. “No.”

  Daphne sat on the bed. “What happened? Walker and I were coming from Cobb’s Penn when we saw everyone gathered in the street. Who were those people?”

  Dorcas turned onto her back to look at her. “Elwood’s betrothed. Or so she says. And her brothers, defending her honor after Elwood left her.” She turned back over and buried her face in the pillow again.

  “Betrothed? How could he be betrothed? He’s going to marry you.”

  “Someone didn’t tell Gertrude that.”

  “Gertrude – that’s her name?”

  “Yes. But she and her three brothers, whatever their names are, are leaving now. She decided slapping me made everything square.”

  “She slapped you?!”

  Dorcas turned over and sat up. “But I was so angry at the time, I hardly felt it. If anything it woke me up.”

  Daphne hugged her. “I’m so sorry this happened. Wait, what do you mean, woke you up?”

  “I’ve been lying to myself, Daph. This whole mail-order bride business was a mistake. Elwood’s not the man I thought he was … and I’m not much better. At least I finally told him about Vernon – he never told me about her.”

  Daphne put an arm around her. “All right, so these people are upset with him …”

  “They wanted to hang him, but Marshal Gant put a stop to it.”

  Daphne’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my. Well, no wonder they’re leaving town.”

  “I probably should too –”

  “Don’t say that. You need to talk to him.”

  “About what? That he lied?”

  “But he didn’t lie, did he?”

  “He didn’t tell me. And after all the time I spent agonizing over telling him about Vernon.” She fell back onto the mattress. “I feel like such a fool.”

  Daphne sighed. “Be that as it may, you’re still marrying him next week.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Dorcas …”

  “Daph, I said no.”

  Daphne sighed again and stood. “Very well, if I can’t talk any sense into you, maybe you’ll do it yourself.”

  “The only thing I’m going to talk myself into is how to leave town.”

  “You’re being childish.”

  “You’re being unrealistic!”

  Daphne stared at her a moment, and Dorcas knew she’d just crossed the line. “I’m going home. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned and marched out the door.

  Now Dorcas felt more miserable than ever. How did her wonderful day turn into this nightmare? And what was she going to do about it?

  * * *

  Elwood paced the shop, his back stiff with anger and regret. He’d lost his temper – he hated when that happened. Truth was, he would’ve liked to drag Gertrude to the nearest horse trough and toss her in. She was being her usual selfish, cantankerous, harpy self – exactly why he’d left Boston in such a rush. “Thank the Lord I did.”

  But now there was a bigger problem: Dorcas.

  He needed to speak with her and clear things up, but he wanted to think first lest he say something stupid. His mouth had a tendency not to work well – or much at all – when he was riled, and he was so livid over Gertrude’s treatment of he and Dorcas that he’d almost come unhinged. The last time that happened, he’d left Boston …

  “Can I come in?”

  Elwood spun around at the sound of Dorcas’ voice. “Of course.” Her eyes were red and swollen – she’d been crying, and it was his fault. “Dorcas …”

  She held up a hand, stopping him in mid-stride. “Don’t say anything. Let me speak.”

  He froze, fighting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. His gut twisted at the blank look on her face.

  “I’m leaving town, Elwood.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Yes, as soon as I can. This isn’t going to work.”

  “Dorcas, let me explain …”

  “No. I explained things to you, and you told me everything would be fine, that we’d be all right, then I find out that all this time …”

  “Gertrude Van Housen means nothing to me,” he cut in. “She never has.”

  “You still should’ve told me about her.”

  “I didn’t think it would ever be … relevant. I was leaving Boston anyway, and she didn’t matter to me …”

  Her face changed – he could tell she was listening – but her voice was steel-cold. “It looks like you mattered to her. Why else would she and her brothers come all this way?”

  She had a point. He turned to the counter, picked up a random book and put it on a shelf. “She’s obsessive, always has been. And more than a little crazy. She liked torturing insects –”

  “You still should have told me.”

  “Yes, I should have. I’m sorry.” He turned back to her, but she was already walking out the door. “Dorcas!” He ran after her, caught her by the arm in the street and gently turned her to face him. “Don’t do this. Don’t go.”

  “What’s important to you, Elwood? Your books? Your freedom? Getting away from … her?”

  He gripped her with his gaze, or at least tried “You. You’re what’s most important.”

  She looked tired, and probably was, now that he thought of it. “I wish I could believe you. But I can’t. Not after what I’ve been through.”

  “Dorcas, let me make this right.”

  She tried to turn away. “Please let go of me.”

  He held her fast. “Dorcas, you silly woman, you can’t leave.”

  She looked into his eyes, her own filling with tears. “Don’t call me silly, and don’t tell me what to do. This isn’t going to work. What else haven’t you told me?”

  “Oh for the love of Pete, woman, I love you!”

  Dorcas put both hands against his chest, shoved him away and ran.

  “Dorcas!” he called after her, then gave chase. “Come back!”

  She ignored him, her pace quickening. But Elwood wasn’t giving up. He’d hurt her, he knew, but she was being stubborn and he wasn’t about to let her get away.

  By the time he caught up to her she had slowed somewhat. “Dorcas.” He took her by the arm. “Please, stop this. Let me talk to you.”

  “Why not leave the little lady be?”

  Elwood and Dorcas both turned to see Marshal Gant leaning against the wall of the Land Office. “Marshal, now’s not the time,” Elwood said.

  “Now’s the time if you want that interview with me. I have to leave town in the morning.”

  Elwood stiffened. He glanced between Dorcas and the marshal, and swallowed hard. But he knew what he had to do.

  “Time’s wasting, s
on – it’s now or never,” the marshal said.

  Dorcas pulled her arm from Elwood’s grasp “Go ahead. I know how important he is to your work.”

  Elwood stared at her. “Not as important as you.”

  Dorcas raised her eyes to his. “Am I?” came out a whisper.

  Elwood took her in his arms. “Most important thing in the world, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Important enough to still get married?”

  “How can you even ask such a thing?”

  “Broken hearts talk like that all the time, son,” the marshal commented. “She wouldn’t be making all this fuss if she wasn’t already in love with you.”

  Elwood’s eyes went wide. “What? In … in love?”

  “Tell me I’m wrong, missy,” the marshal said with a wide grin.

  “You’re not wrong, marshal.” Dorcas looked at Elwood, eyes wide and moist. “Oh, why did you have to go and be so wonderful?”

  “But isn’t that a good thing?” he asked, confused. He’d never understood women. But he did understand that he needed to find Rev. Hammond. The sooner they married, the better. He’d marry her right now if he could. Why wait another week?

  Dorcas squirmed away and took off running again.

  “Dorcas!”

  “Let her go, son. You have to learn when to give a woman some space.”

  “If I give her any more space she’ll wind up back in Denver.” Elwood watched his future bride hurry to the Golden Nugget. But part of him knew the marshal was right. He needed to let her go for now. She needed a chance to rest, to think.

  Which made him think … “Marshal Gant, did you say she’s in love with me?”

  The marshal joined him in the street. “Yes. More importantly, she did. And I suspect she will again.”

  Elwood glanced at the Golden Nugget. Dorcas had already disappeared inside. “How can you be so sure?”

  Marshal Gant grinned. “How much time do you have? I can tell you a few stories.”

  Elwood nodded. “I’ve got as much time as you’ll give me.”

  “Then let’s go, son. I’ll give you an earful.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Elwood tried to see Dorcas after his talk with Marshal Gant, but Norah said she didn’t want to be disturbed. He didn’t press it, thinking Dorcas just needed time. But their wedding was coming up and he was concerned. Around eight in the evening, he decided he had to see her.

  “No,” Norah insisted, blocking the staircase. “Leave the lass be, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Mr. Hunter? What happened to calling me Elwood?”

  “Once all this is settled I’ll think about calling ye Elwood again, but right now that poor girl is dealing with a broken heart and I won’t have ye …”

  “Broken heart?” Elwood repeated in shock. “How could she … oh, well, I suppose she could.”

  “Ye’d suppose right. It’s not like the two of ye have known each other for an age, but sometimes it happens that way. But love’s a risk no matter how ye look at it, I know. We’ve been there, Seamus and I.”

  Elwood nodded sadly. Seamus had shared some of his and Norah’s story while helping build the bookshop. Seamus had come west to find his fortune, planning to send for Norah later. But Norah never received his letters, they having been intercepted by an aunt she was living with at the time, and her trust waned. How much more so Dorcas’, who’d known him for only a few days? “I guess I’ll see if she’s ready to talk in the morning.”

  He left the Golden Nugget, returned to his bookshop and perused the stacks. Books were still piled everywhere, even in his living quarters – what he still hoped would be their living quarters. How was he going to fix this? What was he going to say to her in the morning? He wanted to marry her so badly it hurt. Maybe he should speak with Rev. Hammond? Only he hadn’t told the reverend – or anyone else – about the arranged marriage to Gertrude, assuming it was all behind him. There was no one to back him up – he just had to trust that Dorcas would come around.

  Elwood ran his hand through his hair and groaned. He supposed that if Vernon Fink had shown up unannounced, he’d be upset. But he’d be prepared for it. In this situation, Dorcas wasn’t, and it was all his fault.

  “Oh, Dorcas, I’m sorry – what an idiot I am,” he muttered to the stacks.

  He began putting books onto shelves. The work helped him think, calm down and search his heart. He’d blurted out his growing feelings to her yesterday, not realizing what they were until that moment. But they were real, he knew, and was amazed he hadn’t noticed them before.

  Dorcas was like a rare volume thought lost to the ages, like one of Sophocles’ plays. One hears about it, dreaming of owning a copy one day, and when found protects it in every way possible. But she wasn’t locked up in some dusty case in a library – she was here in the flesh and could be appreciated whenever he wanted. He’d care for her, protect her and see to it that she had the best of everything he could afford.

  With renewed determination, Elwood filled his shelves until he could work no more, and fell into bed exhausted, not even pulling off his boots. In the morning he’d try to speak with Dorcas. But what if she wouldn’t talk to him? What then?

  That last thought haunted him as he fell into a fitful sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning Dorcas dressed slowly. She was so tired, wishing she could just sleep the rest of the day. All this time she’d worried about Vernon … and now this? The turnabout still felt surreal, and part of her told her to just forget about it and move on. But she had nowhere to go – her family was a dead end, as they’d likely still want her to marry Vernon (a fate worse than death). Her best friend, Daphne, lived here, so running from Elwood meant running from her as well. She had no relations tucked anywhere else.

  What should she do now? Speak with Elwood? No, she couldn’t yet – her heart felt too sick, too betrayed. Elwood hadn’t told her about this Gertrude – what else hadn’t he told her? What else from his past would pop up out of nowhere and slap her, literally or otherwise? How could she have possibly fallen for him so …

  “Oh dear me, I did fall, didn’t I?” she said to herself. She began pacing the room. “I’m in love! This is terrible! What am I going to do now?” She sat on the bed, put her face in her hands and cried, but only for a moment. She had to think this through. Her heart was hurting, a lot. So this is what heartache felt like. She’d read about it in novels … “Elwood, you … you lout!”

  Was this how Gertrude felt? Somehow Dorcas doubted it, but why else had she come all this way to find him? She wasn’t just angry – he must have hurt her too.

  “Dorcas?” Daphne called from the other side of the door. “Are you up?”

  Dorcas went to the door and opened it. “Yes,” she grudgingly admitted.

  Daphne took one look at her and sighed. “You poor thing. How long have you been crying?”

  “About a minute.”

  Daphne smiled. “Well, that’s not so bad. Do you want breakfast?”

  “No.”

  Daphne took her arm and steered her to the bed. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Daph. I just want to be left alone.”

  “Dorcas, you have to speak with him. At least give him a chance to explain.”

  “No, not now …”

  “Dorcas,” Daphne stood. “We’ve been friends for a long time. Since when do you give up so easily?”

  Dorcas looked at her and blinked a few times. “Give up?”

  “Yes, you’re acting like this is over. It’s not over.”

  Dorcas thought a moment. Daphne was right – she wasn’t the type to give in to a problem and let it conquer her. But it had never involved a broken heart before. And she wasn’t even married to the man – she’d only known him for a week! Oh, why did love have to be so complicated and painful?

  “Dorcas?” Daphne said. “Promise me you’ll speak to Elwood.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to
him, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Maybe so, but you’ll feel better if you do. I promise.”

  Dorcas looked at her, tried to smile, but couldn’t manage it. “I’m not promising anything else except that I’ll talk to him. I can’t, Daph.”

  “I understand, but you also can’t move forward unless you hear Elwood out. He listened to you when you told him about Vernon.”

  “Vernon didn’t show up in town with his family, threatening to hang me higher than Haman.”

  “What if Vernon does show up?”

  Dorcas paled. She hadn’t thought of that recently, but it was still possible. What would she do? Would Elwood still protect her? He wouldn’t give up like she was thinking of, she was sure of that. “Oh, Daphne, I’m such a fool.”

  Daphne hugged her. “More precisely, you’re in love. It happens, sometimes faster than we expect. You’ve wanted to fall in love for a long time. This Elwood, from what Felicity and Chase Hammond tell me, is a good man. Why do you think I’d hate to see you throw all this away?”

  Dorcas closed her eyes and nodded. Her head was swimming, her chest hurt and she was hungry. “Breakfast first.”

  “You want food – that’s an excellent sign that you’re on the mend.”

  “From what?”

  “Heartache. It tends to ruin the appetite. You have every right to be angry after what happened yesterday. But stay calm and speak to Elwood. He’s probably still in shock over this Gertrude creature showing up.”

  “Is she gone?”

  Daphne glanced at the door. “I think so. Walker and I haven’t seen any strangers in town. I can ask Sheriff Draven. Maybe he can ride out and see if they’re camped somewhere nearby.”

  “Would you? I’d hate to think that that nasty woman is lurking somewhere. Is her name familiar to you?”

  “Gertrude? No, I don’t know any Gertrudes.”

  “I think her last name is Van Housen.”

  “Van Housen … oh goodness, yes, I’ve heard of them. There were Van Housens in Denver, rich ones, and they had relatives in Boston. Isn’t that where Elwood’s from?”