WANTED: FIRE CHIEF
A SILVERPINES NOVEL
By: Parker J. Cole
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 Parker J. Cole
Cover Art by Josephine Blake of Covers and Cupcakes
https://coversandcupcakes.wordpress.com/
All rights reserved.
First Edition: April 2019
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.
Contents
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOIN PARKER’S BODACIOUS READERS
WORKS BY PARKER J COLE
"I begin to think that it is safer for me to dwell in the wild Indian country than in this stockade, where fools accidentally discharge their muskets and others burn down their homes at night." Captain James Smith, January 1608, Jamestown, VA.
CHAPTER ONE
Silverpines, Oregon
September 1899
“The children are shouting to the mountain tops that their real father has returned,” Eustacia Goodwin, twin sister of Eulalia Pemberlay announced as she pulled the white silk stocking up a shapely leg and then added a garter to hold it in place. “Which is a real shame,” she added airily.
“Don’t say it,” Eulalia pleaded, but knowing it would fall on deaf ears.
“Seeing that their real father is dead,” Eustacia went on as if she’d hadn’t spoken.
“Do you have to be so cruel, Lulu?” Eulalia spat out, tossing the shirt of her ten-year-old son, Winston, back into the tub of soapy water. “I know you and Josiah hated each other. But there is no reason for you to mock his death.”
Her eyes smarted. Would the tears for her dead husband ever go away? “He was the love of my life. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t miss him.”
“I missed him, too,” Eustacia sighed melodramatically with false sorrow. “With every bullet.”
Eulalia wiped her forehead, unable to distinguish between the moisture from the water in the metal tub on the floor, or the sweat from her brow. The kitchen boiled with heat from the wood-burning stove upon which a bucket sat, waiting patiently for the water to warm up.
One thing she could say for her twin sister, she’d state her mind whether you liked it or not.
“You mustn’t speak ill of Josiah in front of the children, all right?” Eulalia used the end of her worn, patched up skirt to dry her hands. She was grateful the children had gone with some of the others in town to the menagerie run by the eccentric Ellen Mae Myers.
“Say whatever you want about him, to me and only me. I know, and so do you for that matter, none of your animosity is based on anything. You’ve never forgiven him for taking me from you.”
“Have I ever spoken ill of their father in front of them? Credit me with some sense, Lolly.”
Eustacia slid her leg off the stool and let her dress fall down once more. Reaching over to the table where piles of clean and folded laundry sat, she reached under Tabitha’s pile, Eulalia’s eight-year-old daughter, and retrieved her holster.
The unloaded gun, Eulalia didn’t know which model, gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. Earlier that day, Eustacia had sat at the table and spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning the gun until its metal surface rivaled the sparkling purity of silver. Now, she wrapped the holster around her waist and cinched it tight.
“And to your point, yes, he did take you from me. So, I’m rather glad your husband is dead. Well, almost.”
“Almost?” A drop of perspiration beaded on the thick, curly ridge of her eyelashes. Before she could wipe it away, it dripped onto the surface of her eye. “Ow!” Eulalia hissed at the resultant sting.
“Lolly, what’s wrong?” Eustacia dashed over to where she sat and collapsed on her knees. Her forehead furrowed with worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just sweat got in my eye.” She blinked rapidly until the moisture of her tears soothed away the burn. “I’m fine now.”
Eustacia’s gaze roved over her as if to ascertain she was all right for herself. Eulalia, in turn, studied this sister of hers, this person who was the other half of her soul.
Most never suspected they were twins. Orphaned as children when their father had been killed in a tornado and their mother had been sent away, they’d had an uneventful, yet dismal childhood in the care of their father’s maiden aunt.
The woman who raised them but never loved them.
Though they both had chestnut brown hair, or chocolate, as Josiah had once called it, the similarities ended there. Eustacia’s eyes bore the hue of tarnished silver. Her own, the vibrant brilliance of the ocean.
Life had given her twin a hardened façade with a prickly demeanor that allowed no one but those closest to her to get past. Most considered Eulalia the softer of the two.
Bearing two children had given Eulalia’s figure pleasingly plump curves. Eustacia carried the svelte, slender frame of their youth.
Though different in looks and attitude, they had shared much over the years. Everything, in fact, until Josiah Pemberlay came into her life.
Well-accustomed to her sister’s seething disdain of the man who dared to marry her, Eulalia had become inured to her twin’s vitriol. But never before had Eustacia ever retracted her hatred and Eulalia remarked on it now. “I’ve never heard you say, ‘almost’ before.”
Eustacia gave a shrug as she stood up. “Without him, I wouldn’t have my nephew and my niece.”
As aunts went, no one cared more for their niece and nephew than Eustacia. The children adored her. “And then,” she went on to say, “there’s the whole, ‘devil you know’ aspect.”
“Lulu, what are you talking about?”
“Lolly, Nicander Montgomery is in town.”
Eulalia stiffened, the tub of clothes momentarily forgotten.
“What are you going to do about it?” Eustacia’s eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intentness Eulalia found uncomfortable.
Her hand drifted to the base of her throat. Underneath the damp, wrinkled pads of her fingers, she felt the erratic rhythm of her pulse thrum in tandem with her muddled thoughts.
Nicander being in Silverpines brought about complications she didn’t want to consider.
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you the children are telling everyone that their father is here. They’ve already told your mail-order would-be groom that they didn’t want him as their parent.”
“Yes,” Eulalia’s fingers dropped away. “I overheard that.”
It was probably best not to tell her twin that she had ended things with the stonemason she had sent for a few months ago.
Eustacia reached over the piles of clothes and retrieved her worn but sturdy satchel. “I think the whole town must have heard about it. Either that, or that meddlesome widow at the post office blabbed her mouth off to anyone who would listen.”
Mallet Thorne, the stonemason, was a wonderful man. A wonderful, kind, and boring man. No matter how often Eulalia had tried to feel something other than sisterly affection, nothing else came to fruition.
He’d been attentive and h
ad done his very best to get along with Winston and Tabitha. But neither of the children gave him a chance. They had made up their minds not to like him and nothing he would have done would have been good enough. Yet, she’d done her best to make things work, allowing him to court her despite her misgivings and her lack of affection.
Then Nicander Montgomery came back into her life.
“So, what are you going to do, Lolly?” Eustacia asked again, picking up her wide brim cowboy hat and stuffing her messy chestnut curls under it.
“I don’t know what to do,” Eulalia admitted.
“If you ask me—”
“I’m not.”
“You needn’t adhere yourself to Josiah’s commands any longer,” Eustacia went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “They have no bearing on you now that he is dead.” Then she scoffed. “They had no bearing when he was alive.”
“It wasn’t a command, Lulu. It was a promise. A promise I made to him seven years ago when I was carrying Tabby.”
A promise she had made in jest. Although she had told Eustacia about the promise, she hadn’t revealed to her the circumstances behind the promise.
“Lolly, don’t tell me you’re considering the idea of giving yourself to Nicander Montgomery in some—some—” Eustacia’s hands gesticulated wildly. “Misguided sense of obedience.”
“I gave Josiah my word that in the event of his death, I would marry Nicander Montgomery.”
Saying it out loud made it seem all the more real. All the more terrifying. All the more incredible.
“Marry Nicander Montgomery?” Eustacia’s voice rose in a sharp, harsh, humorless laugh. “Are you listening to yourself? Josiah had no right to make you submit to his authoritative rule to try to control your life even from the grave.”
“Lulu, are you listening to yourself now? I promised Josiah. He didn’t make me do it. I wanted to do it because…,”
The words trailed away, dragged off by invisible horses on some runaway wagon. Why did she agree to such an arrangement?
The night when she’d made that promise repeated itself in her mind. Josiah’s face bent over her as he gave her a final kiss after their usual sweet intimacy. His eyes aglow with lovelight, as she called it. She’d cuddled next to him, her head resting on his damp chest, listening as the beat of his heart slowed.
“Eulalia, promise me something.” The deep timbre had sounded above her head.
“Anything,” she sighed in blissful contentment.
“Don’t be so quick to say that,” Josiah had said in an odd fashion.
Lingering feelings of satisfaction ebbed away like the waters of a receding tide. “What is it, Josiah?”
His arms tightened around her, whether to keep her close or to maintain his hold, she didn’t know.
“If something were to happen to me, make sure you reach out to Nic. He’ll take care of you.”
“Nicander?” She’d thought about his friend, the firefighter. She hadn’t seen him in a while but when they’d met in the past, she recalled a big, hulking man with long blond hair, chiseled, angular features, and blue-gray eyes. “Well, I suppose if something were to happen to you, then I believe he would reach out and assist me if he could.”
“No, I don’t mean just that, Eulalia.” Josiah tilted her chin up so that she could see his face in the dim light of the room. The slumberous, satiated look had gone from his eyes, replaced by an intent, almost somber expression. “I mean, I want you to marry him.”
“Marry him?” She’d drawn away. “Josiah, are you feeling well?”
“I’m serious, Eulalia. If something happens to me. If I’m not here to provide for you or the children, then I want you to marry Nic.”
“Why are we having this conversation, Josiah? I am not going to promise you such a thing. We will live day by day, by the Lord’s grace, until He deems it right for us to join Him.”
“I know you don’t understand why I am asking you this. I don’t rightly—well, that doesn’t matter. But, if something happens to me, I want you to marry my best friend.”
“And what if your best friend is already married?” Eulalia thought it prudent to point out.
“Then,” he said slowly, almost reluctantly, “you can do what’s best for you.”
“Lolly?”
Eustacia’s shrill voice interrupted the memory. “What?”
Her sister eyed her. “You were thinking about Josiah again. About his demands upon you.”
“Lulu—” Eulalia warned.
“If Josiah had only kept that nonsense to himself then maybe I could forgive him. But he told the children that Nic would be their new father. Mallet Thorne didn’t have a chance to compete after that.”
It had shaken Eulalia to the core when Winston had announced that it was time to send for their new father since the Lord had called Papa to Heaven. She’d had no idea until then that Josiah had shared this mad idea with the children.
“Do you see why I hate Josiah so much?” Eustacia shoved the last of her belongings in the satchel and then hefted it over her shoulder. “He took you from me. Now, he has you contemplating marriage to a man he wants you to marry even though he’s dead.” She snorted in disgust. “He sickens me. And if he weren’t dead—”
“You’d shoot him, I know.” Eulalia felt a bone-deep weariness settle over her limbs. “None of it matters though, does it, Lulu? After all is said and done, there’s no need to keep my promise as Nicander’s already married, is there?”
CHAPTER TWO
It had been two days since Nicander Montgomery arrived in Silverpines, but it had taken that long for him to gather up the nerve to go and seek out his best friend’s widow. When he’d first arrived in town, he must have resembled something of an uncouth, mountain man. Hair bushy and scattered like a bird’s nest, his beard scruffy.
But he’d cleaned himself up, shaved off his beard, and put his hair in some semblance of order. At least he would look presentable when he saw Eulalia again.
Alighting from his horse in front of the house that Mrs. Fannie Pearl Edmundson, Reverend Edmundson’s surviving wife, had been kind enough to give him the location of, Nic could hear snatches of the argument between the sisters make its way past the screen door. They hadn’t heard his approach.
He let the reins drape over his horse’s back and stared at the open door of the residence. It looked humble next to its wooden brothers and sisters but still managed to retain a sense of elegance. Repair work had been completed on the exterior along with a new coat of whitewash on its façade.
Nic removed his hat from his brow and thrust his fingers through his hair. Why had he promised Josiah he’d marry his wife if he died? Like Eulalia, he’d agreed to it for the same reason she had—to placate his friend.
“You have to do it, Nic.”
His best friend’s plea echoed in his mind, the words so clear Nic could almost believe Josiah stood next to him. “I need you to marry Eulalia if something happens to me.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Nic had answered with innocent, mistaken surety. “Everything will be fine.”
After all, Josiah had turned twenty-four that year and had been married for three years. He had his whole life ahead of him.
“Look, I know it’s odd for me to be saying this but you have to promise me you’ll marry her.”
“What if I’m already married? I am twenty-two after all. I’ve no wish to stay unmarried forever, not after marriage has done so well for you.”
Josiah’s face had taken on a mask of consternation at the idea that Nic would have the audacity to one day marry. “If you do, then all I’ll ask of you is to take care of her. See about her and the children.”
Who would have known that seven years later, Nic would be torn between wanting to honor his friend’s request and wanting to honor his vows to his wife?
An image of his wife rose up in is mind. Her pinched mouth with its constant berating of his person. The green, suspicious eyes, unyielding like shards
of emeralds. Smooth, pallid skin, delicate and sensitive to his calloused rough hands. Long, white blonde hair scraped into a tight, scalp-tugging bun at the base of her neck.
Guinevere Montgomery, his wife of six years.
With an effort, he dragged his thoughts away from his wife and her presence in his life. Time enough to deal with that later on. He had an obligation to see to his best friend’s wife’s well-being.
Shaking his long, shoulder-length blond hair, he put his hat back on his head and then made his way up the sidewalk and to the stairs. As he neared, ready to knock on the wooden part of the screen door, Eustacia appeared as if out of thin air and opened it up.
“Well, well,” she smirked. “Speak of the devil.”
Her dark gray eyes slid over him in an appreciative way. Ignoring the suggestive gleam, Nic tipped his hat. “Afternoon, Eustacia. Is Eulalia home?”
She jabbed her thumb in the direction behind her. “Yes, she is. Come here with the ring already?”
Biting the inside of his cheek to keep his ready retort back, he said instead, “Don’t let me keep you, Eustacia.”
“Believe me, I won’t.”
Her eyes said different. They always had. How Eustacia and Eulalia could be related in the normal sense of the word mystified him. Their being twins made it extraordinary.
“Goodbye then,” he said amicably. He’d learned over the course of his acquaintance with the woman that whenever possible, keep it short.
She huffed away, the satchel bouncing on her shoulder and the holster wrapped around her trim waist left a distinct image in his mind. Eustacia Goodwin, always traveling and never finding a place to rest.
He let out a sigh of relief which immediately locked inside his chest when he turned back around to see Eulalia standing behind the mesh of the screen door. She opened it.
“Come on in, Nicander,” she greeted without preamble. “I know why you’re here.”
Raising an eyebrow, he asked. “You do?”
“Of course.” Her ocean blue eyes stared directly into his. “You’re here about the kiss we shared. It’s time we discussed it.”
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