Cora shrugged. “I suppose we have no choice until we find out what this fiasco is all about.”
“Goed. Okay. But I’m not one bit happy about it!” Greta followed the lanky cowboy, whose boots caused puffs of dust to rise in the street.
Cora, with a sour look on her pretty face, tossed her head so that the feather in her hat bobbed. “And you think I am?”
Fifteen minutes later, after Zach had collected the rest of their luggage and loaded it into his buckboard, they were seated in a cheerful diner down the street from the train depot. His stomach growled at the smell of food, and he realized how hungry he was. He’d been so busy at the store that he’d been late meeting the train. He ordered steak and gravy for everyone, then turned his attention to the anxious ladies. Each was pretty in her own sort of way. Greta was a tall blonde with a creamy complexion and large blue eyes. Cora, a little shorter than Greta, had dark hair and exotic, deep-set brown eyes with eyebrows that arched gracefully. Two ladies who could be the devil to reckon with if crossed. Which of course, he had just done. As they awaited his explanation, he wondered where to start.
He cleared his throat and decided to plunge right in. “I know that you’re both very angry with me at the moment, but I hope you’ll hear me out.” He set his hat on the chair next to him and looked directly across the table at the two mail-order brides. “I didn’t set out to dupe you, but I wanted you to care about my brother for my own selfish reasons. You see, my brother’s business took off like a steam engine when the miners descended on Central City on their way to the gold and silver deep in the mountains. I’ve been working right alongside him, but I have other things I’m interested in besides running a general store.”
“And what has that got to do with us, pray tell?” Greta clearly was getting impatient. “Does he need two wives to help him run his store?”
Zach grinned. She really didn’t mince her words, but he liked her straightforwardness. “No, but he could use more help. I’m afraid he’s a bit unorganized and doesn’t do well with keeping track of orders, or ordering things, for that matter. He complains but says he has no time for a wife because he’s too busy, and she would need more attention than he could afford to give.” He paused, watching their attentive faces. They seemed to be two totally opposite women, but that could be a good thing, couldn’t it? It might make it easier for Jess to choose. “So I actually wrote those letters. I took it upon myself to correspond with you two lovely ladies seeking husbands in hopes that one of you might fit the bill as a wife for my lonely brother.”
“You mean Jess doesn’t know?” Greta sputtered, almost knocking over her water glass.
“We’re not things you can just order up and amuse yourself with for your own purposes,” Cora snapped. “Your letters were quite convincing—which leads me to believe you must have a wife yourself.”
“Actually, I’m not married. I’ve courted a few nice ladies, but I’m not considering marriage right now. But this is not about me.” Zach would have to tread carefully or things might not go as he planned. “I know what’s good for my brother.”
Greta gave Zach a hard look. “Cora’s right. Now we both have arrived to marry a man who doesn’t even know we exist!”
Cora looked over at Greta. “I say we leave on the first train back to Denver tomorrow.”
Greta’s rosy lips pursed in an angry line. “You may be right, but I don’t want to go back to Wyoming and deal with the humiliation of it all. I can’t speak for you, Cora.”
Zach ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Then you may as well stay here. Accommodations are scarce at the moment, I’m afraid. I’ll put you up in a cabin for now, and you can decide how you feel tomorrow about my plan.”
“And what plan is that?” Greta shot him a disparaging look.
“I’ll introduce you to my brother as mail-order brides seeking husbands, who want to work in the general store. That’ll give you both ample time to get to know him, and he can decide between the two of you.”
Greta laughed. “Oh, I get it. He’s supposed to fall in love with one of us just like that!” She snapped her fingers.
“Well . . . yes . . . as a matter of fact, I think he could. Both of you are stunning. Any man would jump at the chance.” Zach leaned back in his chair.
“Just imagine that, Greta. We’ve been duped into falling for an imaginary love.” Cora shook her head and sighed. “And I thought I’d found a man I could love. I should’ve known better.”
The waiter appeared, placed three heaping platefuls of food before them, and refilled their water glasses. Greta looked across the table at Zach. “Well, I have no fantasy of love. I was looking for a change of scenery and maybe someone I could care about, but love . . . well, that’s a different story altogether.”
Cora’s eyebrows shot upward, but Zach didn’t question her about her hopes. Whatever they were, they were her private affair. Still, she might grow to love Jess. It could happen. Or . . . His gaze traveled to Cora. Maybe his brother would favor Cora’s dark beauty.
“What do you say, ladies? Are you willing to give my plan consideration? Let’s say in three weeks, if either of you hate it here or don’t take a shine to Jess, then I’ll pay your train fare back home.” Greta groaned and Cora winced. “Or to wherever you’d like to travel.”
“As far as Holland?” Greta chuckled, then took a deep breath and looked at him evenly. “Maybe it won’t be all that bad. What do you think, Cora? Shall we stay here and see what develops?”
Zach held his breath. Surely one of these pretty ladies could be Jess’s bride. Or had he made a huge mistake?
Cora dabbed her mouth with her napkin and then laid it next to her plate. “I don’t relish going back to Denver, true—but you owe us an apology for toying with our hearts. I’m not sure about Greta, but I developed deep feelings for Jess through those letters, even if he didn’t write them.”
Zach felt the collar of his shirt tighten against his Adam’s apple and the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck. “I do apologize, ladies. I hope you will see fit to forgive me. Either way, I think you’ll like living in Central City, if you should decide to stay. If not Jess for your husband, you’d have your pick of men. The men outnumber the women five to one.” He propped his elbows on the table and clasped his palms together, then leaned toward them. “Is it a deal then?” He watched as the two ladies seemed to confer through a private signal until they faced him across the table.
“Against my better judgment, I’ll say yes,” Cora muttered.
“Ja. Yes. Count me in. This should be interesting.” Greta nodded her agreement. They all stood, and the ladies fell in step behind the cowboy as he walked back to his wagon.
2
Jess strode over to the glass front door of the mercantile and flipped over the sign to read CLOSED, then dragged down the shade. It had been one of those busy days when he could’ve used an extra set of hands, especially since Zach had slipped out, off on one of his foolish errands, no doubt. He reckoned it was time to hire another helper. He knew Zach didn’t really want to work here with him.
Jess turned the key in the lock, untied his stained apron, and flung it on the nail behind the counter. Dang! He hated a dirty apron, but as usual, he’d forgotten to wash yesterday’s out. He probably couldn’t get the stains out anyway.
He had trouble staying organized or remembering where he put the list that he wrote each day for his customers’ orders, much less remembering to wash an apron. His mind was already racing ahead, thinking of one of his biggest and most persnickety customers, Agnes Cartwright. She wasn’t going to like the fact that the bolt of drapery fabric she’d ordered for her living room hadn’t arrived. He chuckled. That was because, once again, he’d forgotten to add it to the order sent to Chicago.
Jess leaned back against the long wooden counter. Hours before, miners, farmers, and shop owners had flooded the store. It seemed everyone demanded something and didn’t want to wait their tur
n. He sighed. He loved people and loved chatting with them, but it was too easy for him to get sidetracked and forget either the task at hand or the others impatiently waiting. Well, they would just have to wait their turn! He was who he was and that wasn’t likely to change. Not now, not ever.
Jess decided that instead of going upstairs to his small living quarters to scratch up something for supper, he’d haul his tired legs over to Chun-Lee’s. He was hungry enough to eat a bear, and his stomach was gnawing at his backbone. The morning biscuit and jerky were long gone, and not stopping for lunch today made him nearly light-headed. He intended to change his habits as soon as he could.
He snatched his jacket and hat from the peg behind him and opened the front door. It was almost dark, and the glowing streetlights lent a comforting presence to the evening chill. He turned the key in the lock and strolled down the sidewalk.
Zach drove the ladies about three blocks to the edge of town, to a clearing dotted with a couple of cabins set among the vast expanse of rolling foothills at the base of the Bald Mountain summit. The night was clear and cloudless with a large yellow moon that gave off enough light to see. Greta’s eyes adjusted to the soft darkness that enveloped them, the distant sounds of the town in the background, and her heart fell when Zach stopped in front of a rough cabin made of hewn pine chinked with mud. She could tell that it was little more than a miner’s cabin and tried to hide her disappointment. She watched as he set the brake and then climbed down, turning to assist her and Cora.
“Is this your cabin?” Cora’s eyes were wide as he led them to the door and pushed it open.
“No. It belongs to a trapper friend of mine who’s away right now.” Zach lit the kerosene lantern on the table and turned up the wick. “No electricity here, but there’s another lamp between the two cots. A pump over there in the kitchen area supplies water, and the outhouse is out back.”
Greta gulped and held her breath, afraid to breathe in the stale odor of tobacco and leather that clung to the air. One swift look about the cabin’s one room revealed a small table with two mismatched chairs, a round hooked rug, a couple of crates that she figured must be for extra seating, and a row of pegs along one wall where a pair of pants and shirts hung. In the kitchen area, an open shelf housed blue enamel cookware, plates, and a coffeepot.
How would she ever sleep here?
“Do you mean that Cora and I are to share this cabin for three weeks?”
Zach stood with his hands resting on his hips and surveyed the one-room cabin. “I agree it’s not much to look at, but it’s better than sleeping out under the stars. There’re two cots over there,” he said, pointing toward the back of the cabin. “I’ll start you a fire since it’s a little drafty, then bring your baggage inside. Jeb always has a stack of firewood at the back door.” He slipped out before either of them could say a word.
Greta looked over at her new companion, whose face was lined with worry.
“This is not acceptable at all,” Cora said. “I shall be looking for other accommodations right after breakfast.” She wiggled her nose at the dust.
Greta peeled off her cape and hung it on a peg, determined to make the best of the situation for at least one night. She watched as Zach quickly made a toasty fire in the grate to remove the evening chill, unloaded the rest of their belongings, and lit the other lamp. He appeared anxious to leave.
“Ladies, you can take a short walk back to town and have breakfast at the diner if you’ve a mind to. Just put the tab on me. Later, we’ll pick up supplies that you’ll be needing for cooking.”
Cora’s face showed wry amusement. “I doubt that I’ll be doing any cooking in this little hovel.”
Zach cocked his head in Cora’s direction. “I guess if you find yourself hungry enough, you just might.”
“I won’t be here that long. As soon as Jess meets me, this whole thing will be settled,” Cora commented through tight lips.
“At any rate, will you be taking us to meet Jess tomorrow?” Greta said, reminding him why they were here in the first place.
“Indeed.” He doffed his hat at her. “Right after you have breakfast, walk on down to Gifford’s Mercantile. We open up early, and I expect I’ll be there long before you rise. Get some rest. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Cora’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “You want us to walk?” She took a stance with her arms folded, expressing her displeasure at the entire episode. Greta wanted to laugh but held herself in check. Did Cora ever walk anywhere?
“We’ll manage.” Greta nodded at Zach, whose face showed relief. “We can take a short walk, and the morning air should be invigorating,” she said, ignoring Cora’s tightly pursed lips.
Zach smiled. “That’s the attitude! I’d come get you, but we open at 8:00 a.m., and I thought you two might be a little tired from your travels.”
“How very considerate of you,” Cora said sarcastically.
“Ladies.” He tipped his hat and moved toward the cabin door that still stood open. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” The door banged shut behind him.
———
As if I could sleep here in this cramped cabin! Cora grabbed the end handle of her trunk and dragged it to the nearest cot shoved against the wall. At least it had a quilt on top. She pulled it back and found there were no sheets on the lumpy mattress, which appeared to be a hundred years old. Now why am I not surprised? It was a miner’s cabin, after all. It probably belonged to a bachelor since she saw no sign of a woman’s touch anywhere. She took a deep breath and sighed loudly enough that Greta turned from the front window, where she stood watching Zach ride away.
“What’s wrong?” Greta moved toward her.
Cora sat down on the edge of the cot. “Everything! No groom, two brides, a miner’s drafty cabin to sleep in! What do you think?” She gave a hysterical giggle and knew that Greta thought she was losing her mind. “I don’t know why I let myself get talked into this even for one evening, much less three weeks. This just won’t work, I’m afraid.”
Greta sat across from her on the other cot. “For now, I say we just make the best of the situation. If we feel differently at the mercantile, we could possibly find a job using other skills. You do have some other skills besides looking for a husband, don’t you?” she asked.
Cora blinked, staring down at the knotty pine floor. At least it wasn’t a dirt floor. Should she tell Greta that she had no real skills other than playing the piano? She certainly couldn’t cook because her family had always managed to afford a cook. Her mother had insisted on it. Most of Cora’s time had been occupied with reading, visiting the sick, and attending to church matters. “Well . . . I guess I can do a few things. What about yourself?”
Greta laughed. “I can always learn new things. At least I have an education. I could find something worthwhile to support me. I won’t starve.” She twisted sideways and pulled back the gaily colored quilt. “I see what you mean. I didn’t pack sheets. But I’m dying to get these clothes off and fall into a heap, sheets or not.” She kicked off her high-heeled leather shoes and proceeded to unbutton her bodice.
“I packed sheets. I can let you borrow one, and I’ll take the other.” Cora pulled out soft linen sheets. “These were to be for my honeymoon,” she said, running her hand across the smoothness of the fabric.
“Oh, we can’t use those. I’ll look around. Maybe they’re stored in a cupboard or one of the shelves.” Greta padded around the cabin in her stocking feet.
Cora walked over to Greta and handed her a sheet. “No, really . . . take it. At least that way you can cover up with the quilt. The temperature has dipped with nightfall, and I’m sure it will only get cooler before morning.”
She could see the reluctance in Greta’s eyes and thought that under any other circumstances they might have become friends. “I detect an accent, and you used a word at the depot that I’d never heard.”
“I’m from Holland. I arrived with my sisters a little over a
year ago.”
“I see. Then that accounts for your fair complexion and blonde hair. I never knew anyone from Holland.”
“Well, now you do,” Greta said good-naturedly with a bright smile.
Cora thought Greta was pretty and energetic, which would definitely cause competition where Jess was concerned. One look at Greta and he wouldn’t be paying Cora any mind.
Cora turned and started making up her bed, suddenly very weary. She would need to visit the outhouse before bed, so she hurriedly undressed with her back to Greta and threw her robe over her nightgown. Not that anyone would be seeing me outside for miles around! But she clamped her mouth shut instead of grumbling out loud. She lifted the lamp off the table and pushed against the creaking back door, then traipsed quickly to where the not-so-inviting outhouse stood in the silvery moonlight.
Greta had been counting sheep, praying for sleep to take over, when she heard a loud thumping outside. Had Cora locked herself out? She had visited the outhouse more than once, and the disturbance kept Greta from sleeping. Was her stomach upset?
A scream came from behind the cabin, and the sound brought Greta bounding out of bed with a chill coursing down her spine. Frantically, she yanked open the heavy pine door and squinted into the night, her eyes trying to adjust with the aid of the moon hanging high over the timberline. She shivered with fear.
3
Greta stumbled wildly down the steps. Had Cora fallen into the hole in the outhouse? Greta had gone only a couple of steps when she felt like she’d swallowed her heart. There was something big and dark moving near the outhouse. Oh, heavens above! It was a bear! She froze momentarily, then whirled back up the steps despite the cries emanating from the privy. Back inside the cabin, aided by the light of the full moon streaming through the window, she quickly scanned each corner for a weapon. Wasn’t there a gun somewhere? Sure enough, there was a rifle leaning against the wall. She grabbed it, not sure if it was loaded or not, and flew back outside.
Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel Page 2