by Kit Morgan
“Well, you can’t have everything, dear,” Mercy replied. “But I admit, I don’t know what I’d do if Garrett and his family lived in another town.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if Morgan and Daisy didn’t live with us,” Martha added. “I’ve grown used to those two being around.”
“I know what you mean,” Maude said. “Julian and Ellie are a godsend.”
“I hope you’re paying attention, Sophie,” Mercy said. “Garrett and Ammy are still young, but you’ll be taking care of them eventually.”
“Garrett and Ammy?” Katie said.
“Fletcher’s parents,” Sophie told her. “That’s one thing you’ll love about this town. Everyone takes care of everyone else, as it should be. And I ought to know.”
Katie nodded. Sophie had stepped in to take care of relatives for years when no one else would. But her next thought left her downcast.
“Whatever is wrong, dear?” Mercy asked.
Katie shrugged. “I’m not sure I’ll be staying.”
“Of course you will – you’re getting married, aren’t you?” Mercy said with a dismissive wave.
“Married?” Mahulda said. “How wonderful! When’s the wedding?”
“More importantly,” Martha said, “who’s the groom?”
“Yes,” Maude added. “tell us who the lucky man is.”
“Our own Sheriff Diamond!” Mercy said before Katie could reply.
Katie groaned and looked helplessly at Sophie. She didn’t want to talk about it.
Sophie took the cue. “Gran Mercy, let’s discuss the cleanup committee.”
“Cleanup committee?” Mercy said, confused.
“Yes, I suppose we’ve waited sufficiently,” Maude said. “Two weeks is long enough to mourn. Or has it been three?”
“Two and a half,” Mahulda said.
“Are you sure?” asked Martha.
“Mourning period?” Katie said. “Has someone … oh.” Of course – Jasper Munson. Was the town still mourning his death?
“Oh, no, dear,” Mercy said. “We’re talking about Mrs. Bee’s boarding house. It was one of the bright spots in the community. Too bad it burned to the ground.”
“Oh, dear.” Katie wasn’t sure what else to say. They were mourning a house?
Sophie smiled at her. “You’ll find that Independence is a little different.”
Katie nodded again. She was discovering that by the hour.
“Very well, I call this meeting to order.” Mercy tapped her teaspoon on the table for good measure. “How many volunteers do you think we’ll need?”
“If you want that pile of rubble cleaned up in a timely manner,” Mahulda said, “then I suggest at least a dozen.”
“If not more,” Martha added. “Young, strong ones, to be exact. Heaven knows none of us will be able to do the work.”
“Quite right,” Maude agreed. She looked at Katie. “Why don’t we start with you?”
“What?” Katie said with a little jump.
“Of course, dear,” Mercy said. “Wouldn’t you like to volunteer?”
“Well, I … I …”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mercy said. “You’ll be busy with your wedding.”
Katie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh dear …”
“We’d love to volunteer,” Sophie offered.
Katie looked at her. “No, I don’t think you should have to.” What woman wanted to dig through the leftovers of a fire she was almost killed in? She turned to the others. “I’ll volunteer.”
“Perfect!” Mercy clapped. “I’ll mark you down.” She looked expectantly around the room. “Oh, Betsy?”
Betsy came out of nowhere with paper and pencil and handed them to her.
“Thank you,” Mercy said with a smile.
“Mm-hmm, thank you. It’s about time you got around to discussing that mess. Cecil and the other men are getting pretty tired of watching over it. I’m sure Sheriff Diamond will want to poke around in it before we start the cleanup.”
“I think he already has,” Sophie said.
“Oh, no, dear,” Martha said. “Not while we’ve all been in mourning.”
Sophie shook her head. “It’s been almost three weeks. I’m sure Sheriff Diamond has searched the site by now.”
“I doubt he has,” Mercy said. “Out of respect for the owner’s wishes.”
“Owner’s wishes?” Katie exchanged a quick look with Sophie.
“I can see you two don’t understand,” Mahulda said. “The boarding house is special to us.”
“Mrs. Bee might be a criminal, but we do respect her for starting the place up the way she did after her husband died,” Mercy said.
“And so we got together one day and decided to help her out,” Martha added.
“No matter who would eventually run the place,” Maude tossed in, “we’d have a good source of benevolent income.”
“We? But I thought Mrs. Bee was the owner,” Sophie said.
“Yes and no,” Mercy said. “She lived there and ran it, of course, but she’s no longer the owner.”
“Then who owns it?” Katie asked.
Mercy giggled and looked at the others. “We do!”
Sophie and Katie gaped at them. “All four of you?” Katie said.
The matrons nodded. “When we made the offer to Mrs. Bee a couple of years ago, she jumped at it.” Martha explained.
“Yes, and ten percent of room rents go to the church,” Mahulda added with a smile. “My husband set everything up for us. Mrs. Bee would manage the place, give us the tithe for the church, and she not only got a wage, she got to live there until the end of her days.”
“And at certain times of year we take a little extra and give it to a family in need,” Maude said proudly.
Katie looked at Sophie. “Mourning,” they said together. It made more sense now.
“Can we put Fletcher down, dear?” Mercy asked Sophie.
She laughed. “Gran Mercy, you know you’re going to put him down anyway.”
“Of course I am, but at least I can say I asked.”
Now Katie laughed. “Are they always like this?”
“Always,” Sophie said.
The women continue making plans to dispose of the boarding house’s charred remains. When Maude mentioned the four of them wore black for a week after the fire, Katie began to grasp just how different Independence was – a far cry from Denver’s high society. But to her surprise, she liked it here. She could get used to this place and its quirky residents, and she’d only met a handful.
“We’re sorry to have to leave morning tea,” Sophie said as she stood. “But I told Katie we’d visit the bookshop.”
“Wonderful – run along, dear, and tell Professor Hamilton hello for us,” Mercy instructed.
Sophie smiled. “We will.”
Katie set her cup and saucer down and followed Sophie to the front door. “I should get my reticule.”
“It’s right here, ma’am.” Betsy handed it to her.
Katie stared at her. In the short time she’d been in the Vander house, Betsy had anticipated her every whim. It was uncanny! She did it not only with Katie, but with everyone else in the house. “Thank you.”
Betsy looked her up and down. “Mm-hmm. Just see you two don’t get yourselves into trouble.”
“Really, Betsy,” Sophie said. “What sort of trouble could you mean?”
“It’s only been a few weeks since the fire, and that murder. Who knows if anyone’s still lurking around here waiting to stir something up?”
“But I thought everyone involved was arrested,” Katie protested.
“Yeah, they were,” Betsy agreed. “But you never know who else was involved that none of us knows about.”
Katie turned to Sophie. “She has a point.”
Sophie nodded and went out the door.
Katie followed. “Do you think she’s right?”
Sophie opened the gate and they went through. “I don’t know.
I hope not – it’s been quiet around here since the fire. Well, until you showed up.” She grinned sheepishly.
Katie rolled her eyes. “I know what you mean. I’m sure my arrival is all the excitement you want.”
“A happy mistake is better than the tragedy that happened here.”
“Almost happened,” Katie pointed out. “After all, here you are. But what happened to the other woman … Priscilla?”
Sophie shook her head in dismay. “Poor Priscilla. Her parents run the feed store. No one’s seen much of her since the fire. She’s been keeping to herself, won’t see anyone. I thought she might return to Portland and her elderly aunt there, but she’s still in town. Someone else must be looking after her relative.”
“She did get jilted and her fiancé tried to murder her,” Katie said. Jace had filled her in on that sordid episode. “That would send me to my bed for a few weeks.”
“True,” Sophie agreed. “I should go see her. We went through that ordeal together, after all.”
Katie touched her arm. “Would you like me to go with you? Maybe my situation will brighten her up. It is kind of funny at this point.”
“No, I can’t put you through that. I know you say it’s funny, but I can tell how much it troubles you.”
Katie reluctantly nodded. The woman was right. “If you can see it, then Priscilla will as well. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“No worries.” Sophie wrapped her arm around Katie’s. “Now, let’s go to the bookshop and see Professor Hamilton.”
“And you never knew the third party’s name?” Jace asked.
Sebastian Cord glanced nervously at the guard outside the cell door. “No, sir, not his real name. He just called himself ‘Mr. Jones.’ You know it’s gotta be fake.”
“Indeed,” Fletcher agreed. “I wouldn’t give my real name.”
“And you never saw his face?” Jason asked.
“No. We met in the dark – he insisted on it – or he sent letters. As soon as I got my instructions, I burned them.”
“He’s probably long gone by now,” Fletcher said.
Jace nodded. Counterfeiters and similar criminals didn’t stick around the scene of a crime. This one made sure he didn’t get near it. “You didn’t happen to notice where those letters came from, did you?”
“Never paid attention. I do remember that they came from different places.”
Jace sighed and nodded. This wasn’t good. Though the encounter in Independence involved only one set of counterfeit plates, it was possible there were more. Whoever had Sebastian deliver that set probably had others doing the same thing throughout the state, if not the entire country. “Thank you, Mr. Cord. You’ve been very helpful thus far. We appreciate your cooperation.”
“I feel bad about it all, especially poor Priscilla. She must hate me, and I don’t blame her.”
“We understand,” Fletcher said. “Is there anything you’d like us to tell her?”
“She still in town?” Sebastian said in surprise.
Fletcher nodded.
Sebastian swallowed hard as tears filled his eyes. “Tell her I’m sorry … for everything. She deserves better than the likes of me. I know I won’t hang for what I done, but I’ll probably spend most of my life in jail for it.”
“You confessed and helped us a lot,” Jace said. “The judge will take that into consideration.”
Sebastian nodded. “I hope so.”
There was nothing more to say. Jace hadn’t been in town when Sebastian Cord, Mrs. Bee, and Mr. Hilton set fire to the house – he’d been in Salem asking questions, just like today. Fletcher made a citizen’s arrest when Sebastian turned himself in, then wired the law in Salem and surrounding towns to keep an eye out for the others. Mrs. Bee and Mr. Hilton were picked up soon after by some deputies.
That left the mysterious fourth party, the ringleader, still out there. And Fletcher was right – whoever it was could be long gone by now, down only one set of counterfeit plates. And counterfeiters often had more than one. If this had happened in Texas and he was still a Ranger, he’d have combed the state. As sheriff of Independence, he had less jurisdiction.
“Thank you again, Sebastian,” Fletcher said. “I’ll pass your message along to Priscilla.”
Sebastian looked at him sadly. “I’m much obliged, Fletcher. You’re a good man. I’m glad you and Sophie got hitched.”
Fletcher smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad you have a conscience. If you hadn’t come back and helped me get the women out of that house when you did, they wouldn’t be here today.”
Sebastian nodded but said no more.
Jace and Fletcher left the jail. They planned to catch the afternoon train back to Independence and would have to hurry if they wanted to make it on time. “Well, now what?” Fletcher asked.
Jace sighed. “There isn’t much more we can do. I don’t think Miss Haverdash’s arrival has anything to do with this.”
“So we’re back to looking for the Mad Matchmaker?” Fletcher said with a grin.
“You can look for the Mad Matchmaker – me, I have to deal with poor Miss Haverdash and send her on her way.”
Fletcher closed his eyes and shook his head.
“What?” Jace asked, hands on his hips. He knew Fletcher well. The man thought he was being an idiot.
“If it were me…” Fletcher began.
Jace held up his hand. “I’m not you. And I have a very tempting job offer, remember?”
“Oh, yes – to be a prairie knight or whatever the title of that position is. Personally, I think that’s a silly name.”
“Silly or not, the pay is good …”
“And?” Fletcher prompted when he didn’t finish. “Really, friend, if you thought Independence was so boring, why’d you come back in the first place?”
“You know why.”
“Okay, yes, your parents. But that doesn’t explain why you stayed. At least give the woman a chance.”
“Why?” Jace asked. “I’d just end up breaking her heart.”
“Or finding yours.”
Jace’s jaw went slack. “What did you say?”
Fletcher put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me put it this way, Jace Diamond: if your heart was any harder you could cut a window with it. You’re not giving yourself a chance.” He turned and hurried down the jailhouse steps.
Jace followed him. “For your information I’ve thought of marriage!”
“And?”
“And the thought has merit. Especially after seeing you find a good woman.”
“How do you know Ms. Haverdash isn’t one?”
“That’s not the point, Fletch. If I’d been seriously considering marriage, then maybe I would have sent for a bride. But I didn’t …”
“Still, one showed up,” Fletcher interrupted. “Who knows where it might lead if you give it a chance?”
“Are you trying to marry me off?” Jace asked with a chuckle. But this was no laughing matter. Did Fletcher see something Jace didn’t? Had his heart become that calloused? If so, then he wasn’t ready to have a woman in his life. That, or Fletcher was trying to save him before it was too late.
“Somebody has to try,” Fletcher quipped as they crossed the street to the train station. “Mistake or not, for all you know Miss Haverdash could be perfect for you.”
“And just how am I supposed to find that out?” It was a stupid question – he knew Fletcher would run with it.
Sure enough, his friend spun on him. “You know how. Get to know her – spend a few days with her. If she won’t suit, if you feel nothing, then send her home.”
“And what good will that do?” Jace asked, pushing his hat off his forehead. It was frightfully hot and their quick trek had him sweating.
“One, at least the trip out here will have been worth her while. Two, you might find having a woman in your life is nice.” Fletcher removed his hat and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “I’m not saying you have to fall in love with her, Jac
e, but I am saying you should think about it. You might be more ready for marriage than you know.”
Jace sighed. “You really think a few days will make a difference?”
Fletcher smiled. “You won’t know until you try.” He walked on.
Jace watched him go and shook his head. Fletcher Vander was smart and stubborn and wouldn’t stop pestering him until he gave in. And what was a few days, anyway? Besides, maybe she could help him figure out who sent the Pettigrew Mail-Order Bride Agency the fraudulent letter. It would give her something to do and get her mind off her situation. After a few days, she’d likely realize she was better off going home.
Satisfied, he set off after Fletcher. They still had to catch that train home.
Chapter Eight
Professor Hamilton winked at Sophie. “So you’re Sheriff Diamond’s mail-order bride?”
Katie groaned. How Professor Hamilton found out, she had no idea. At least his teasing was good-natured.
“Oh dear,” Sophie commented. “Who told you that? Grandpa Vander?”
“Who else?” The professor smiled sympathetically at Katie. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this is a small town. By now it’s all over it.”
Sophie nodded sadly. “And Horace Vander is one of the biggest gossips in it.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake …” Katie buried her face in her hands.
“But he’s not a malicious gossip,” the professor said. “In truth, he’s rather jolly about it. Still, gossip is gossip. I hope this doesn’t affect you badly.”
Katie stared at him and shook her head.
“The problem, you see,” Sophie said, “is that Miss Haverdash isn’t actually here to marry Sheriff Diamond.”
The professor’s eyebrows rose. “What? But she’s a mail-order bride. That’s what brides do when they come to the town of their betrothed – they get married. Though I must say I was surprised to find out it was Sheriff Diamond.”
“He didn’t send for me,” Katie explained. “Someone pretending to be him did.”
“Ohhhh.” The professor looked her up and down as if checking for signs of damage. Little did he know how much there was. “I’m sorry to hear that … oh, no. It couldn’t be.”