by Kit Morgan
“Fine, you do that,” Jasper said and crossed his arms.
At the moment, there was nothing more he could do. If Jasper wanted to stew over Daphne, then let him stew. He let go, turned on his boot heel and left the tent.
* * *
Daphne waited at the top of the stairs a moment before heading down. If Seamus was behind the bar, the men were less likely to catcall, whistle, and otherwise let their intentions be known. They also kept quiet when she was with Walker. Today they’d have their stroll with one or more of their chaperones in tow. She had no idea who was tagging along, only that someone would be. She hoped it wasn’t Clint. She swore she felt the man’s eyes boring holes in the back of her head whenever he was behind her. Maybe he’d done so much undercover work for the bank it happened naturally. She sometimes felt as though he were about to arrest her and wondered if he made Walker feel the same.
But Clint Jones was a good, honest man, and had helped the townsfolk as much as he could when it came to legal matters and what not. After opening a branch for Wells Fargo, he should check into becoming a lawyer.
She went to their usual table and wasn’t surprised to find Reverend Hammond already there. He sat, a stack of papers in front of him, squinting at something on one of them. “Afternoon, Reverend.”
He glanced up. “Why, hello Miss Dolittle. I take it Mr. Brooks is coming to call?”
“Yes, he’ll be here any minute. What’s all this?” she asked waving a hand at the stack.
He sighed heavily. “Let’s see, a budget for the new church, my sermon notes, not to mention notes on where the new bank is going and what we’ll need for that and …” he picked up a piece of paper sporting a horrible coffee stain. He wiped at it. “…my wife’s letter to her parents, which I’m supposed to be adding a little something to.” He cleared his throat and set the letter down. “So, how are you and Mr. Brooks getting along?”
“Fine,” she said and took a seat.
“Glad to hear it. You’ll let me know when he proposes, of course.”
“Propose?” she said with surprise. “Isn’t it too soon for that?”
“My dear woman, once word gets out there’s an eligible female available in a town full of single men, he won’t waste any time. For the moment, word hasn’t got out.”
“Oh, yes. You wife said as much the other day.” She glanced at the saloon doors and back. “Are you … um … chaperoning today?”
“No, I asked someone else to assist with that. They’ll be here any time now.”
Daphne smiled and looked at the stairs. There was no sign of Felicity. Maybe she’d gone out on an errand? No matter. Daphne looked forward to chatting over a cup of coffee with Walker. They’d had such a lovely time the day before and she wanted him to herself for a few moments before Clint and Ophelia joined them. It would be them. Figures. Ophelia was fine but that husband of hers …
“Ah, here comes the man of the hour now,” Reverend Hammond commented as Walker entered the saloon.
“Hello,” he greeted. “Reverend, Miss Dolittle,” he added with a tip of his hat when he reached the table. He pulled out a chair and sat. “Care to take a stroll with us today, Reverend?”
Chase smiled. “No, I haven’t the time, but don’t worry. I’ve arranged for someone to accompany you.”
Walker exchanged a quick look with Daphne. She’d heard it to; the distinct sound of immense satisfaction in the man’s voice. Worse, it was in his eyes too.
Daphne followed his gaze to the saloon doors and gasped. Was that a priest?!
She heard Walker gulp as a woman joined the man at his side. “Reverend, is that who I think it is?” he asked.
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? Father O’Flanagan and Mrs. Kinnison are going to chaperone the two of you today.”
Daphne went positively pale. She imagined thunderclouds gathering outside, lightning soon to follow. The moment they left the saloon, she’d be struck dead, Walker soon to follow, or would fate go for him first?
It was one thing to carry on their charade in front of Reverend Hammond, Clint Jones, and their wives, but these two?
Daphne gulped as well.
“We’re lucky Father O’Flanagan is still with us,” the reverend commented. “He’s helping me work out some details for the new church.”
“I’ve not seen him around town,” Daphne said absently.
“He’s been traveling here and there checking on Junction and the communities farther south. Nice man, you’ll like him. And Mrs. Kinnison can fill you in best on the women’s mission. She started it, after all. Once you’re married, I’m sure they’d love to get you involved.”
Daphne let slip a sigh of dismay and looked at Walker, who stared at the saintly pair approaching as if they’d come to read him his last rights.
Oh the tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive … Walker’s words from days past hit Daphne like a charging bull. Her belly suddenly felt like it was folding in on itself. If she could, she’d double over. But it would bring too much attention. Instead, she willed her mouth to curve into a smile as the pair reached the table.
“Good afternoon, Reverend Hammond,” Mrs. Kinnison said. She wasn’t what Daphne expected. Mrs. Kinnison was younger than she pictured, maybe her late twenties, with auburn hair and green eyes. Pretty too. She looked at Daphne. “And this must be Miss Dolittle.”
Daphne wilted. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Walker came to her rescue and cleared his throat. “Good afternoon. Walker Brooks.” He stood and motioned to his chair. “Won’t you sit down?”
“Thank you, Mr. Brooks. You’re most kind.” She sat and Daphne noticed she looked weary. Maybe saintly work took more out of a person than she thought. Which reminded her, the woman was only human. She didn’t have angel’s wings or a halo over her head. Nor was she likely to show up at the pearly gates and tell Saint Peter to deny Daphne entrance because she invested in the silver mine.
Okay, so maybe for the real reason she wanted to invest …
“Well, it’s good to see you’re hard at work, Reverend” the priest commented. He smiled at Walker. “Father O’Flanagan I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, we never had the pleasure,” Walker said and shook his hand. “I’ve seen you around town on occasion though.”
“Yes, that you have. It’s slow work what we’re doing. There’s the reverend’s church to be built, and figuring out how often to come to Noelle and neighboring towns or set up something more permanent.”
Reverend Hammond must have mistook Daphne’s look of impending doom for confusion. “The Catholic Diocese sent Father O’Flanagan to serve in the smaller towns and communities in this part of the state. He comes to us all the way from New York.”
Daphne swallowed hard. “How … nice.”
“Aye it’s been grand,” the priest said with a smile. “Tell me, Miss Dolittle. What do you think of Noelle? Planning to settle here are you?”
Her eyes met Walker’s. They were like a safe haven. “Perhaps.”
He gave her a comforting smile and went to stand behind her chair. “A lot depends on, well …”
“What the future holds,” Mrs. Kinnison commented. She put a hand over her belly and took a deep breath through the nose.
“Is something wrong?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask.
“Just a bit of nausea, nothing serious,” she said.
“If you’re sick, then we can postpone our outing,” Walker said. “Daphne and I can just as easily have coffee and conversation, as a walk around town.”
“Nonsense, the air will do me good. Besides, what ails me, Mr. Brooks is not what you think.”
Daphne glanced up and over her shoulder in time to see his a genuine look of concern.
Mrs. Kinnison blushed. “Mr. Kinnison is going to be a father.”
“Ohhhh,” they said in unison. Daphne glanced up again and laughed. For some reason, knowing the woman suffered from nothing more than pregnan
cy made her feel better.
“Shall we go?” Mrs. Kinnison asked. “I know we’re chaperoning, but I’d love to show the two of you a few of the things we have in store for Noelle. Maybe you can think of ways you’d like to get involved?”
Daphne and Walker exchanged a quick look. “Lead the way,” Walker said. And so she did.
Chapter 14
Daphne wasn’t sure how it happened, but found herself walking beside Mrs. Kinnison while Walker strolled behind them next to Father O’Flanagan. “And now that I’m back in Noelle after our visit to Denver,” Mrs. Kinnison explained, “we’ve really made strides in our plans for the women’s mission.”
“You sound very passionate about your work,” Daphne observed. She also observed Walker and the priest had stopped as they conversed. What could they possibly be talking about?
Mrs. Kinnison kept walking. “I am. The good Lord put into my heart years ago to help as many as I can. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Daphne automatically glanced at the woman’s belly. “What about raising children?”
She gave Daphne a bemused look. “Well, those do come along as the Lord wills. We deal with that when it happens.”
“From the sounds of things, it happened quickly for you and Mr. Kinnison.”
“Yes, we are truly blessed. Libby helps a lot. I’m glad she’s here.”
“Libby, yes, I’ve met her,” Daphne commented as they walked past Cobb’s Penn. “Do you think more women will come?”
“To marry? Of course. There are plenty of men looking for wives around here. That’s my hope at least. But most of the women we deal with come from situations of brokenness. They’ll need healing first. But enough about my work. What do you think of Mr. Brooks?”
Daphne glanced behind her. Walker and Father O’Flanagan were deep in conversation at this point. About what, she still had no idea. Both men wore serious looks, and her curiosity peaked. “He’s a good man. Kind, generous, protective.” And totally immersed in whatever the two men were discussing. Hmm …
“I’ve heard he’s done a lot for his friend, Jasper. Though charity sometimes has its limits, but I’m sure Mr. Brooks knows this.”
Daphne stopped and faced her. “Do you think he’s done too much for Jasper?”
“Not if Jasper also gives to others. Charity can teach, but it’s not like teaching someone to care for themselves. I pray this friend of Mr. Brooks isn’t a wastrel.”
Daphne’s own dilemma melted away as her words sank in. Admittedly, she’d thought the same thing of Jasper and didn’t want to see anyone take Walker’s generosity for granted. Herself included.
The wretched thought brought her back to her current state of feeling like a heel. “Mrs. Kinnison, you serve on the board for the silver mine, do you not?”
“Yes, both my husband and I. Why?”
“I’m sure Reverend Hammond has apprised you of my situation. What if Mr. Brooks doesn’t want to marry me? What if I don’t want to marry him but still want to invest?”
“There are plenty of men in town …”
“Yes, I’m aware, but … Mr. Brooks …”
Mrs. Kinnison smiled. “So, you have your heart set on him?”
“Oh, um … no, not particularly.”
The woman gave her a side-long glance of disbelief.
“That is to say …” Daphne was stumbling over what to say, period.
“You like him,” her chaperone stated with a smile. “In fact, I’d venture to say you more than like him at this point.”
Daphne stared at her like a dolt. “I … I do?”
Mrs. Kinnison’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “There’s no harm in liking the man.”
Daphne let her head swing in Walker’s direction. “There’s not?”
“No, and I can tell he likes you. A lot.”
She faced her again and gasped. “He does?!”
“Of course, anyone can see it.”
She glanced at Walker again and back. “They can?” she squeaked. Good heavens! If that was the case, why couldn’t she?
“I’m glad to see he’s a man who likes to do things properly. Courting for example,” Mrs. Kinninson said. “He’s giving you time, dear.”
Daphne almost laughed. If the woman only knew …
“I think it’s very gentlemanly of him.”
For fifteen percent, of course it is, Daphne thought. She glanced at Walker again. He and Father O’Flanagan were staring right at her. Uh oh.
“What’s your passion, Miss Dolittle?”
Daphne jumped. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Kinnison apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She faced the men. “They’re getting along.”
“Yes, aren’t they though,” Daphne said lamely and hoped she didn’t sound worried. Merciful heavens! Walker wasn’t confessing, was he? The look on Father O’Flanangan’s face was a grave one. Walker’s expression wasn’t much better. Oh dear, what to do?
“Any man with as serious a countenance as your Mr. Brooks has at the moment is sorting things out.”
Her words drew Daphne from watching Walker and the priest. “How do you know?”
Mrs. Kinnison smiled. “He’s speaking with a man of the cloth for one. And if there’s one thing I know about Father O’Flanangan, it’s that he’s very approachable.”
Daphne looked at the men again. As a woman she could see why those of her sex, at least, would want to talk to him. The young priest was a very handsome man. But he was also a priest, so there’d be no point if said woman was marriage minded. But what was Walker speaking with him about?
Isn’t it obvious? her mind screamed. He’s telling him everything!
Daphne heard something akin to a whimper and wasn’t surprised it came from her.
“Is something wrong, Miss Dolittle?”
She shook her head. Best she keep her mouth shut at this point. She looked at the woman and did her best to form a smile. Lightning didn’t’ strike her dead, but it obviously hit Walker between the eyes. Who knew how much he’d spilled to the young priest already?
“Let me show you the proposed site for the mission, shall I?” Mrs. Kinnison asked.
Daphne nodded once more and did her best not to whimper again. Being in this woman’s company was likely to set her aflame. Maybe she should confess too, then she could go back to Denver and leave her shame behind. But if she did that, she’d be leaving Walker …
“Oh, my heavens,” she whispered to herself.
“What’s that, dear?”
Daphne put a hand over her racing heart. “Nothing.”
“Very well, let’s continue our little stroll.”
She fell into step with Mrs. Kinnison as she moved on. Soon they were staring at an empty piece of land not far from one of the brothels, (perhaps the only brothel) in town. “Here?” Daphne said. Walker and Father O’Flanagan still hadn’t caught up. At this point Daphne figured it was over. The walk done, they’d part ways and that would be that. She’d be labeled a selfish woman of bad character, told to pack her trunk and get out of town. She wondered if they’d call on the sheriff to do the deed …
“I’m quite happy here,” her companion commented. “You’ll grow to love Noelle.”
“Mrs. Kinnison …”
“Please, call me Genevieve. If you’re going to be living here, we should call each other by our first names.”
Daphne’s heart sank. This woman was so nice, so giving. Her only thoughts the needs of others. And what was Daphne? All she wanted was to travel and see the world. So what about broken women needing husbands? Let them fend for themselves.
“Genevieve,” Daphne whispered. “I’ve done … a terrible thing.”
She turned to Daphne, saw the tears in her eyes, and pulled her into her arms.
It did Daphne in. Once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them.
“There now,” Genevieve said and patted her on the back. “What has you so upset?”
“I … I wanted to invest in the mine … because …”
“Daphne?” Walker said as he hurried toward them. “Daphne, what’s wrong?”
She pulled away from Genevieve. “No … nothing.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of a hand and straightened.
“I’d say it’s something,” Walker said with concern. He looked at Genevieve, but all he got was a calm shrug.
“Can I be of some service?” Father O’Flanagan offered.
Daphne took one look at him and let out a wail.
Walker’s eyes went wide. “Daphne, darling, what is it?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Darling is it? Oh, stop …”
“But sweetheart, what’s wrong? How can I help if you don’t tell me?”
“Please,” she said as she wiped her eyes again. “You know very well what it is. Why else were you back there talking with the priest?”
The men exchanged a quick look. Daphne didn’t care. She knew what they were about. Walker ratted her out. That’s what. Now she felt like a fool wearing robes of guilt and shame. The worst part was, it was all her fault.
“Daphne,” Walker said, his voice tender. “Let me take you home.”
She looked at him through misted eyes. “Home? Denver’s a long way off. But I’ll start packing.”
“Packing? What are you talking about?” he asked.
She sniffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s over, Walker. We can’t go through with it.”
“Can’t? You mean court? Of course we can. You have to give us a chance.”
“A chance? What chance is there now?”
Father O’Flanagan and Genevieve glanced between the two with interest, as if they hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. Well, Genevieve didn’t, Daphne didn’t get the chance to tell her. Father O’Flanagan on the other hand …
“Daphne,” Walker said and held his hands up as if to rest them on her shoulders and froze. Instead of touching her he looked into her eyes with a tender look of concern.
“Don’t make this worse, Walker. Just don’t,” she said and turned away.