The Piper_The Eleventh Day

by Amanda McIntyre

  He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and only then seemed aware there were others in the saloon.

  Genevieve was astounded by the fact that she’d been in Noelle all week and had not in all the men she’d encountered found such a fine specimen of rugged male in all the men she’d encountered as this one.

  Penelope. This is for Penelope.

  The man glanced from the preacher to her, holding her gaze a bit longer--perhaps her imagination—before offering a neighborly nod and turning away.

  Duty and determination laced liberally with liquid courage, edged its way into her conscience. She thought of Penelope, of the agreement to save Noelle. And, more importantly, if this venture proved successful, how well it would bode for her and the mission’s future.

  Pastor Hammond leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t care for that look in your eye, Mrs. Walters. I’m certain there has to be another way.”

  Genevieve met his gaze. “I’m not so certain that we have a choice. You’re out of straws and the clock is ticking, Pastor Hammond. Do you wish to save Noelle, or not?”

  All at once, the fur-covered man flipped the ghastly hood over his head and strode toward the door, with his gaze unwavering. It was clear he was not interested in being social.

  That, however, did not deter Genevieve. This was for Penelope. “Excuse me, sir?” she called to his departing form.

  The beast of a man hesitated at the door.

  “Oh, lord,” she heard Pastor Hammond mutter.

  Genevieve swallowed. She hoped that, living alone somewhere in the woods, living off nuts, berries, and God knows what—that he was still somewhat able to carry on a civil conversation. Nonetheless, she was glad for Pastor Hammond’s presence. “I wonder if Pastor Hammond and I might have a few moments of your time?” She glanced at the pastor who appeared less enthusiastic about the prospect.

  “You are familiar with our good Pastor Hammond?” she asked primly folding her hands.

  “I am,” he replied, still facing the door.

  “Would you be so kind as to please look at me when I address you?”

  He straightened then, his height made all the more intimidating by the bear turning to face her. She met the glassy, dark eyes of the bear first and, lowering her gaze, looked directly into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

  Her heart stopped. Twelve years had passed since she’d seen such blue-eyed clarity. But of course, that was only a coincidence. She blinked to clear her muddled thoughts. “My name is Mrs. Genevieve Walters.” She cleared her throat, perplexed by the man’s penetrating gaze. “I-I have brought twelve women to Noelle under contract with your mayor and Pastor Hammond--”

  Pastor Hammond lifted his hand with a brief smile.

  Difficult as it was to get past the eerie memory the strange man’s eye color evoked, she forged ahead. This was about Penny, not ghosts of Genevieve’s past. This was about saving Noelle, not some stolen kiss—now ancient history--nor the man who’d stolen her heart, then left without goodbye. This was about proving herself an exemplary matchmaker. “Mr. Kyi-Yee, we have a proposition to discuss with you. Something that will benefit not only you, but Noelle as well.”

  “No.”

  Genevieve was taken aback, in part by the voice that skated over her, but more by the fact that he hadn’t even heard what she had to say. “Why, sir, you haven’t yet heard our proposal.”

  The man glanced at the pastor. “Does it have to do with marriage?”

  Pastor Hammond lifted his shoulders and nodded.

  “Not interested.”

  “But, Mr. Kyi-Yee--” Genevieve insisted. Good lord, if ever there was a man in need of a wife it was this one.

  He opened the door, setting the Christmas tree branches to sway, the ornaments to bobble precariously yet again. The silver pipe still lay in tiny pieces on the floor. Genevieve rose to follow the man.

  Pastor Hammond grabbed her hand. “Mrs. Walters, I implore you. Think of Miss Penelope.”

  “I am,” she said, pulling her hand away. She tugged her shawl around her, greeted by a bitter wind. The sky looked dank and cloudy as though it might snow.

  Squinting against the icy air, she needed only to search for a bear walking on hind legs--and that went double for his personality. She spotted him, his stride long and determined, heading down the street.

  Remembering her vow to bring happiness to Penny’s life she set out to follow him, picking her way down the street over the icy slush and snow.

  Chapter 4

  “Pardon, amigo, but I could not help but notice the nice matchmaker lady over there. She has been looking at you.” Nacho, owner of the small diner in town, set a steaming plate of huevos rancheros in front of Zeke.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Zeke lied. “You have any more coffee, Nacho?” he asked, purposely avoiding the woman’s gaze and his friend’s curiosity. He attacked his breakfast as though it was his last meal. And it might well be if the new matchmaker in town discovered his true identity. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Did you hear the news that Silas Powell left town?” Nacho topped off Zeke’s mug with more of the rich coffee. “My Fina, she said that he left his bride waiting this morning at the altar.”

  “Fina? Who’s Fina?” Zeke eyed the man. He firmly set his fork down. “Oh, no. Not you, too?” he asked. “Is everybody in the damn town married?”

  Nacho shrugged. “Not those who didn’t volunteer to draw straws, no. And of course, those that were not lucky to be chosen as grooms.” He grinned.

  “Straws?” Zeke asked. “How long?”

  “Have we been married? Just the past two days.”

  “And how’s it going so far?” Zeke was being polite. He really had little interest in marriage. But the matchmaker? He couldn’t deny the punch to his solar-plexus when he’d turned around and came face-to-face again with Genevieve Walters. It was as though she’d been able to reach in and pull his heart out of his chest with just one look. He pulled himself back from his reverie just as the man finished his impassioned narrative of his wedded bliss.

  Zeke shook off the cold dread in his gut and smiled at Nacho. “Well, then congratulations.” Zeke gripped his friend’s hand. “Is there anyone else I know that is recently wed?”

  Nacho seemed to ponder the thought. “Storm Thornton. He married Miss Molly. Culver, he married Kezia…oh, and Jack Peregrine married Miss Birdie. Then there’s Woody--”

  Zeke held up his hand. It was just as the matchmaker had said. She’d brought twelve brides to town to marry twelve of Noelle’s men.

  “Nacho, why now? What’s the big hurry to marry?” He’d know this man ever since he and his brother came to Noelle.

  Nacho slid into the chair across from Zeke. “Marriage. Family. It suits me. I believe man was meant to have a companion, no?”

  Zeke raised his coffee mug. “Spoken like a true Christian.” Raised in the Methodist church, Zeke had probably believed the same, once upon a time. But seeing brother against brother, the hatred, the bigotry and sorrow of the war had left its mark on his beliefs—a scar on his very soul.

  “A wife is a good thing,” Nacho admonished with a smile. “My Fina brings new light to my life.”

  Zeke leaned back in his chair and listened. He scratched his cheek and studied Nacho. “That’s mighty interesting and noble, my friend. Why is there suddenly such an all-fire hurry to get everyone married?”

  “Oh,” Nacho smiled. “Of course, it probably seems strange to come back to town after a time and find many of the men married.”

  “It is a might unsettling,” Zeke agreed.

  “The way Pastor Hammond explained it was that he--”

  “Decided we needed to get some of the men married?” Zeke asked.

  “No. It’s my understanding they came up with a plan to save Noelle.”

  “Didn’t realize Noelle was in need of saving.” Zeke listened carefully.

  “Everyone knows the rumors that the m
ine is going dry. That is why so many have left—hearing of the strikes out in California,” Nacho said. “But Mayor Hardt doesn’t believe the mine is dry. He’s got Hugh Montgomery testing the rock.”

  “Spring would be a better time for that. When the run-off is fresh and washed down from the mountain,” Zeke said, thinking aloud his thoughts.

  Nacho nodded. “Si, but Mr. Hardt is not the type of man to give up so easily. If they can come through with the deal they made with the rail line, then perhaps it will give the mayor more time to find what he’s looking for, no?”

  “What kind of deal?” Zeke questioned with a frown.

  “If Noelle can prove it is a thriving community—that people are willing to raise their families here--the railroad will consider bringing the line on through Noelle.”

  Nacho’s sea-green eyes fairly sparkled with glee. “Think of it, Zeke. The train making a stop right here in our little town.”

  “And that’s why the men volunteered?”

  Nacho nodded as he stood. “I need to get back to work. Fina is cooking today. It’s probably best I don’t leave her in the kitchen alone for very long.”

  Zeke eyed his friend carefully. “So how many are left to be married?”

  Nacho thought. “Just one if Silas hadn’t taken off. Now there’s two left. Miss Penny and Miss Agatha--though I heard rumor she hasn’t yet found a man in Noelle deserving of her skills.

  Zeke raised a brow. It dawned on him then what proposal Mrs. Walters was so hell-bent on offering. She needed a stand-in groom for--

  “Who was the gal Silas stood up?” Zeke asked his friend.

  “Miss Penny,” Nacho answered. He picked up a stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on his forearm. He paused at the table. “It is perhaps only rumor, but it may be that Silas feared for his safety.”

  “His safety?” What kind of brides had been brought to Noelle?

  “She is a widow woman—twice. There seems to be something odd about her. There are those who are superstitious and claim she is bad luck.”

  “Well, then maybe Silas did the right thing by leaving. Though I’m not sure riding out there alone is any better an option as far as luck goes. He might have fared better taking his chance with Miss Penny.”

  Nacho nodded in agreement. “I will say a prayer for his safety.” He turned to leave and, in doing so, opened up the view of Mrs. Walters seated across the room. She had a determined look in her eye.

  “Oh, Nacho?” Zeke said, waving the man back to his table. “Be sure to tell your new cook these eggs were mighty fine.”

  Nacho grinned. “Bueno. Gracias. She will be pleased to hear this.”

  The sound of someone choking across the room captured Nacho’s attention. “I told her too not many chili peppers in the sauce.” Nacho glanced at Zeke. “I must go, mi amigo. Say, perhaps you should speak to the matchmaker lady about a bride, no?”

  Zeke chuckled and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Oh no, thank you. I’m fine with my life the way it is.” He waved Nacho closer. “But to ensure my unmarried status, would you do me a big favor?”

  “Of course, Kyi-yee. You only have to ask,” Nacho replied.

  “Go over and keep the matchmaker busy. I need a head start.” Zeke grinned. Though the idea of having Genevieve Walters chasing after him had a certain appeal, her reason for doing so was not personal—it was business. Fact was, she needed someone to marry “Bad Luck Penny,” and he had no intention of marrying her--or anyone else, for that matter. In fact, he had no desire to face Genevieve Walters after all these years. He’d wondered what had happened to her. How she managed. Whether she and her mother-in-law had moved to Denver. But every time he picked up a pencil to write, he feared taking her from the safety of her family bringing her out here where nothing was certain and life was difficult, if not dangerous. No, she was better off where she was and while it took a long time to quell the desire thinking of her conjured inside, he dove into his work and tried to forget.

  “Gracias, mi amigo,” Zeke said and hurried out the door.

  Thanks to Nacho, he was able to escape before Mrs. Walters could get to him. Chances were good that he’d only bought a little time before she caught up to him.

  Walking towards the barber’s, he stepped off the diner’s flat wooden porch and nearly ran into his friend, Storm Thornton coming around the corner.

  “Storm,” Zeke greeted the man while eyeing his somber expression. “You catch that goose of yours?” Zeke held back a blurt of laughter. His friend shook his head and sighed.

  Zeke had known the man and his grandfather, Ezra for a number of years. Storm had left the mine to pursue other interests after surviving the accident that had killed Clem, Zeke’s brother. Guilt over his brothers accident had pushed Zeke into his self-imposed exile into the mountains that nearly cost him his life.

  “Yes. We finally got Daniel back home. Molly wanted him to be at the wedding. He’s…very special to her.” Storm shook his head. “You do understand it was my grandfather who volunteered me for marriage.”

  Zeke looked over his friend’s shoulder so he could keep an eye on the door of the diner. He raised a brow, offering a grimace. “No, I didn’t realize.” He studied the man who looked wearier than he remembered. Then again, one might reason that newlyweds would naturally appear fatigued given the new marital responsibilities…. Zeke cleared his throat, dispelling thoughts that would no doubt lead him back to Genevieve and the kiss they’d once shared. “Well, hopefully you can get things settled down so you can get some rest.”

  Storm’s dark eyes snapped to Zeke’s.

  “Not that you want things to be too settled, of course.” Zeke smirked.

  “We are quite compatible, if that’s what you’re implying.” The corner of his friend’s mouth curled. Zeke could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually seen the man smile. “Very well, in fact.” Storm nodded with a far-off look in his eye.

  Zeke glanced away. Seeing the lovesick expression on the man he’d sworn would never marry made him…well, uncomfortable. Zeke eyed his friend. “So, you’re happy, then?” Zeke asked, praying Storm would spare him the details.

  “Oh, sure.” He shrugged. “Except for one thing.”

  Zeke raised his brows and sighed. “What’s that?’

  “It’s her pet goose. At first, he had to sleep at the foot of the bed.”

  He had to ask. Zeke scratched the back of his neck. As much as Zeke felt for the man on one level, he figured he’d made his own…well, bed and now had to lie in in it--goose and all. Zeke held up his hand. “No need to explain,” he offered with an apologetic smile.

  “Tell that to my ankles. Godforsaken bird Wreaked havoc every time we tried to go to bed. That’s why I decided to get him a mate. It worked for a while. He was protective of something else.”

  Zeke tried to erase the mental image that had formed in his brain.

  “Dern thing figured out how to work the handle on the door.” Storm glanced away. “You suppose having kids is like that?”

  Zeke shrugged, eyeing the door, nervous to move on. “I can’t say, my friend.” He grasped the man’s forearm in a sign of a brotherly solidarity and good will. “Congratulations on your marriage and good luck with the goose…geese,” he corrected himself.

  Storm chuckled. Both turned as the diner door opened.

  “Mr. Kyi-yee,” a female voice called from behind him.

  Zeke hurried down the street and ducked into the barber’s shop, shutting the door firmly behind him. He leaned against it, his heart beating in his throat.

  “Good morning,” Noelle’s one and only barber and occasional dentist, Butch Wisdom greeted him. Broom in hand, he appeared mildly surprised to have such an early customer. “I was just getting ready to open up, if you don’t mind waiting a few moments.”

  Zeke wasn’t exactly interested in a shave as much as he was pure survival. Traditionally, women knew better not to enter a barber shop on principle alone. The
re was a good chance, however, that some silly rule wasn’t about to stop Genevieve.

  “Good day, Mr. Wisdom. I, uh—just stopped by to see how those pelts I gave you last spring are holding up as rugs?”

  The man’s brow furrowed. He glanced over Zeke’s shoulder. “Excuse me, son. But are you aware there’s a fetching-looking woman peering in my shop window. Possible she’s looking for you?” Butch took a second look and smiled. “I’m not sure I’d be running away, son.”

  Zeke debated whether it was time he simply face the music, as it were. Thing was, he didn’t know what to say to her. Didn’t understand why after all this time just the sight of her put his head into a tailspin. Worse, she wanted him to marry a stranger—a woman he’d never held. Never kissed. Never dreamt for weeks about how sweet was the scent of her skin. Genevieve Walters. What were the odds that the only woman he’d ever truly loved was here in Noelle, Colorado?

  “You have a back way out of here?” he asked.

  The man glanced at the window and back at Zeke, throwing him a skeptical look. “You sure about that?”

  Zeke blew out a sigh. “Not entirely. But it’s the best option I’ve got at the moment.”

  “Well, unless you got a tooth needing to be tended to.” He nodded toward the back. “Through the bathing area. Door leads out back.”

  “Much appreciated.” Zeke strode into the small room containing a fancy porcelain claw-foot tub, a small dresser, and one of his bear pelts spread across the floor. He stood a moment assessing how to get back to his horse and get out of town without running into the good matchmaker. Slowly opening the back door, he peeked out and came face-to-face with the beautiful green-eyed gaze of the woman he’d left out of his own guilt over a dozen years ago.

  “Mrs….Walters,” he sighed, averting his eyes from her determined gaze.

  Chapter 5

  Those eyes. If she didn’t know better. But of course, that was impossible.

  “If you’ll excuse me, ma’am.” The elusive man ducked his head so that her eyes aligned with that of the vacant stare of his bear hood. He scooted quickly around her and headed down the street.