The Partridge: The First Day (The 12 Days 0f Christmas Mail-Order Brides Book 1)

by Kit Morgan

  She sat back in her chair and folded her arms in front of her – not only for warmth, but because she had some hard thinking to do. “Yes, I’m beginning to see things more clearly.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I know, I should have told you earlier. But yesterday I’d planned to have all of you married, even half would have been ideal. Then Mrs. Walters demanded your accommodations …”

  “The whore house,” she interjected flatly.

  “… I felt things falling apart after that. But, that was also my fault for assuming you’d all be wed by now.”

  She leaned forward again. “Why didn’t you tell Mrs. Walters this yesterday? After all, she only has our best interests in mind.”

  “That may be so, but after she gave me that tongue lashing in the corner …”

  Her smile was tight. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear what she said to you. Was it so bad?”

  His usual cheerful demeanor vanished. “Not even I can preach hellfire as effectively as she did yesterday. After listening to her, I had to convince myself I wasn’t going to Hell.”

  Felicity burst out laughing and slapped her leg. If her parents saw her, they’d be scandalized by her action, but she didn’t care. She had an incredible amount of freedom in Noelle, and in her own life, with no one to tell her how to live it. Father and Mother had tried so hard to steer her where they thought she should go. But no more – she was a grown woman and didn’t need them telling her what to do or not do. She looked at Rev. Hammond, a determined gleam in her eye. “All right. How can I help?”

  His own eyes widened. “Just like that? You mean you’re not going to march back to La Maison des Chats and tell the other brides you should all pack up and go?”

  “Why would I?”

  His head made a seesaw motion. “Because … I didn’t tell you all this in the first place?”

  “About making the town respectable? You certainly did – it was in all your letters. The deadline is new …”

  “And I’m sorry. I should have explained that yesterday, as soon as I knew …”

  She folded her hands and put them on the table. “That just means we have our work cut out for us.”

  He smiled, a wonderful warm smile that made her tingle all over. “Yes, it does.” He looked into her eyes. “Thank you, Felicity.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Er, I mean, Miss Partridge.”

  She smiled back. “Chase … this is Noelle, not Denver or St. Louis. You can call me Felicity.”

  “But won’t Mrs. Walters think it improper?”

  “I don’t believe as Mrs. Walters does.” She paused before adding, “Are you familiar with the cause?”

  He leaned forward, eyebrows rising in curiosity. “The cause? Um … what cause would that be?”

  She straightened in her chair, shoulders squared with pride. “The Suffragette cause.”

  He froze momentarily and stared at her before nodding slowly. “Oh, that cause. I’m afraid we don’t get much word about that here.”

  “You will. Especially once …” She relaxed and sighed. “Never mind – we have other work to do. Your town is in dire need of assistance.”

  “It’s your town too – yours and all the other brides’, if you so choose.”

  She nodded in understanding. It was easier to fight for something that belonged to you. “If the railroad comes, so will more people,” she said to herself. “We could grow this town into something special.”

  He smiled. “Yes, very special. But you all have to get married quickly.”

  She nodded. “Consider it done.”

  He shot her a quizzical look. “I have to say, I admire your confidence, Miss Partridge –”

  “Felicity,” she corrected. “Were the men planning to call on their brides?”

  “I would imagine. The question is, will Mrs. Walters let any of them?”

  “A good question. She was mightily upset yesterday. She seemed better this morning, but …”

  “What?”

  She shook her head in dismay. “She was very quiet this morning, more so than I’ve ever seen her.”

  “Is that bad?” he asked, alarmed.

  “I don’t know … but clearly something’s bothering her. I’m just wondering if it’s anything other than the obvious.”

  “Going back to Denver,” he stated.

  “Yes. Some of the brides were thinking about it last night. Thankfully most still want to get married this morning. But …” She held up her hands – who knew?

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go talk to them.”

  “Let me go first. I’m afraid …” She cut herself off.

  His brow knit in concern. “What is it?”

  “Well, I’m afraid Mrs. Walters may not wish to see you. You upset her greatly yesterday. But let me speak with them, share your vision, let them know what we can make of this town.”

  He smiled. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Miss …” Now he interrupted himself. “… Felicity.”

  “Thank you,” she said with her own bright smile. “I do try.”

  * * *

  Chase and Felicity finished their coffee and left the saloon. They walked slowly, chatting about this and that, until Chase spied Nacho heading their way. Good – maybe he’d just seen his bride. “Merry Christmas, Nacho!” he called.

  Nacho nodded nervously. “And you, Reverend.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  They’d reached the end of the street, and Chase could see La Maison des Chats from where they stood. “Something wrong, Nacho?”

  “No, no, I was just out … uh, taking a walk.”

  “To see your bride?” Chase asked hopefully.

  “Er … that is a good idea, but …”

  “You seem terribly nervous,” Felicity mused.

  Nacho jumped, confirming the statement. “Oh, no, not at all. Mm …”

  Chase suppressed an eye roll. “Nacho Villanueva, may I present Miss Felicity Partridge?”

  Nacho nodded and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Who are you here to marry?”

  Felicity smiled at the question. “Mayor Hardt.”

  Nacho suddenly looked horrified, but quickly erased it with another nod and smile. “Congratulations,” he said weakly, his eyes flicking between them a few times.

  “Thank you,” she said happily. “I’m looking forward to my wedding.”

  Nacho managed something between a giggle and a sigh, then saw Chase’s warning glare. “I should be going …” He scampered off without another word.

  “My heavens,” Felicity said. “What was the matter with him?”

  “If I had a guess, I’d say he’s nervous about getting married. Not that he doesn’t want to,” he added hastily. “He just wants to make a good impression on his bride.”

  “Josefina,” Felicity said softly. “I hope she likes him – I want to see her stay. I want to see them all stay.”

  Chase smiled. Her words were heartfelt and she was beginning to share his vision for the town. That thought made his own heart swell. “Shall we continue?”

  Her eyes met his. “Yes, of course.”

  “I’m sorry if I interrupted your thoughts,” he said. “Anything you’d like to share?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Just a woman’s silly notions.”

  “Somehow you don’t strike me as a woman who has silly notions.” Another pang of jealousy struck, and he did his best to push it aside. Where was Charlie?

  “That depends on what you consider silly,” she said. “I was thinking about children.”

  Chase winced. That might be a painful subject, so he simply said, “Oh?”

  She shrugged. “After meeting Josefina’s intended, I had a sudden vision of her children and mine playing in a front yard together. A nice thought, don’t you think?”

  “It’s a perfectly logical thought, nothing silly about it. To think of it that way is not giving it enough credit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He began to
walk, and she naturally followed. He didn’t want her out in the cold too long – her cheeks were already turning red. “Some thoughts are closer to the heart than others,” he explained. “To me, if it’s silly it’s far away, unattainable. In this case, it’s like saying you don’t believe in what we’re doing.”

  She stopped, hands on hips. “If I didn’t believe it, I wouldn’t be going back to that whorehouse to convince my fellow brides to stay.”

  “Then what makes the thought of your children –” For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say your and Charlie’s children. “– playing with Nacho and Josefina’s silly?”

  She stared at him. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

  Without asking, he took her arm and wrapped it through his. “I’ll see if I can’t find Charlie while you’re speaking with the other brides. Shall I call on you in an hour or so?”

  She nodded, looking relieved. So that was it – she was beginning to doubt. His and Charlie’s little scene in the saloon had done more damage than he’d thought. And if Felicity unconsciously doubted her nuptials, would she, despite her enthusiasm, doubt the other brides’ as well? “That would be fine.”

  He smiled. When it came down to it, her doubt was his fault. He should have told Charlie what he’d done at the onset and borne the consequences. So what if the mayor didn’t marry the first go-round?

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Felicity said, yanking him from his thoughts.

  “As will I.” He watched her a moment. Her earlier drive to help him had weakened – he could see it in her eyes. Either that or she was just tired, cold and hungry. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

  She looked up at him. She was a small thing, barely reaching his chin. He wondered how the top of her head would feel tucked beneath it, her body flush against his … drat, he was doing it again! But his heart went out to her, and no wonder. Of all the brides come to Noelle, she ran the highest risk of not being wed, at least not to Charlie. But what if Percy’s uncle demanded the mayor marry? What if there was no way around it? “Felicity?”

  She was gazing at him again, and his chest warmed. “I’m sorry, I was … having silly notions again.”

  “But remember what ‘silly’ usually means – that means you don’t really believe …”

  “I know,” she said, cutting him off. “That makes sense.” With a sigh she turned to the door.

  “I’ll call on you in an hour,” he told her. “Will that give you enough time?”

  She nodded, still staring at him.

  Chase checked his clothes. “Did I spill something on myself?”

  She chuckled. “No, of course not. I just …” She shook her head.

  “A silly notion?”

  Her eyes met his. “Not … so silly as that.”

  He smiled gently and started to back away. “Well, that’s good. I’ll see you soon.”

  “See you then,” she said, her gaze unwavering.

  Chase turned and headed for the street. Yes, Charlie was one lucky fella. Now all Chase had to do was convince the idiot of that.

  Chapter 12

  Felicity entered La Maison des Chats and went upstairs to the room she shared with several other brides. Kezia sat in a rocking chair playing with little Jem, and Maybelle was still abed, snoring softly. “Is she ever going to get up?” Felicity asked.

  “She told us last night she rises when it suits her,” Kezia said, rolling her eyes.

  Felicity did too and glanced at a small clock on the dresser. She and Chase had met fairly early. It was no surprise then that Maybelle was still abed and she wondered if any of the other brides were too. “I’m surprised she didn’t say ‘until noon.’”

  “Enjoy it while you can, at least she’s quiet.”

  “Thank Heaven for that,” Felicity said. “I wonder what her groom is like.”

  Kezia smiled at little Jem. “Poor man.”

  Felicity sat on the side of the bed nearest Kezia, not wanting to have to talk over a snoring Maybelle. She studied her and the child a moment before speaking. “Are you excited about getting married?”

  Kezia turned an interesting shade of pink. “Are we getting married?”

  “It’s what we’re here for. Why wouldn’t we?”

  “Are you getting married?” Kezia then asked.

  That stung. “Of course. My groom was just a little shocked, is all.”

  “Is all?” Kezia said, amused. “I’d hate to see him when he was upset.”

  Felicity tried not to sigh in frustration. Was she getting married? Who knew? And if she didn’t, she’d be stuck here! Merciful heavens, she hadn’t thought of that before. “Never mind about me. What about you?”

  Kezia lifted Jem in front of her and blew on the baby’s tummy. The baby girl squealed in delight.

  “If you’re hiding behind Jem, you’re just as afraid as the rest of us,” Felicity pointed out.

  Kezia lowered her child and looked at her. “What if he doesn’t like …” She stopped to glance at the ceiling. “… certain things about me?” She looked at Felicity again. “What if the mayor doesn’t like you?”

  Felicity let out the frustrated sigh she’d been holding and stood. “It’s a risk we all took. And if that’s the case, Mrs. Walters will simply take us back to Denver.”

  Kezia hugged Jem to her. “How, Felicity? Our grooms paid for our train fare to get here. Where would any of us get the money to go back?”

  Felicity swallowed hard. “Then our esteemed grooms will have to take care of it – that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.” Though she wasn’t so sure how gentlemanly her groom was.

  “Many of the men in this town do not look like gentlemen, though mine, he didn’t act too badly.”

  “What?” Felicity said. “You’ve met him?”

  Kezia nodded and looked away.

  Felicity went to her. “Tell me, what was he like? When did you speak?”

  She went back to bouncing Jem on her knee. “Yesterday at the saloon, we spoke briefly.”

  “That’s wonderful! Did any of the other men speak with their brides?”

  “A few,” she said. “But why are you asking – you were there.”

  Felicity frowned. “Yes, and woolgathering as usual. But can you blame me, after seeing what happened between Rev. Hammond and that man? I was so lost in my thoughts afterward, I didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

  “I’m sorry about the mayor, Felicity,” Kezia said. “You know – that man?”

  Felicity’s hand flew to her mouth. Good heavens, had she not said his name? Was she getting cold feet?

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I saw my intended act that way,” Kezia continued. “You don’t think he’s mean, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Felicity said. “Rev. Hammond told me all about Mayor Hardt. He sounds charming– when he’s in his right mind.”

  “And yesterday he wasn’t,” Kezia said, her mouth curving into a smile.

  “Heavens, no – we took him completely by surprise.”

  “Obviously,” Kezia said. “And yes, I want to get married – we all do. But Mrs. Walters …”

  Felicity glanced around. “Where is she?”

  Kezia shrugged. “Not up here. I did see her speaking to Avis earlier.”

  Felicity smiled. She liked Avis, a pretty girl with brown hair she wore in a severe chignon and beautiful skin. “Did she miss me this morning when she rose? I did leave awfully early.”

  “Of course,” Kezia said. “But we told her you had a meeting with Rev. Hammond. No better escort than a preacher.”

  Felicity nodded. The reverend had called on her very early, wanting to get things squared away as quickly as possible. After hearing about the deadline, she understood why.

  “There were men downstairs earlier,” Kezia said matter-of-factly.

  That snapped Felicity out of her thoughts. “There were? Did they see their brides?”

  Kezia shrugged. “The only man I
’m interested in seeing is mine. I hope he comes soon.”

  Felicity nodded in understanding. “Me too.” The room fell silent as each delved into their private thoughts. Neither of them even considered the possibility of rejection. No, that wasn’t true – Meizhen, being Chinese, was probably worried. The Chinese were often looked on in these parts as not being human. She thought the girl was very brave to become a mail-order bride.

  She brushed her skirt off and wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders – she hadn’t bothered to take it off. “I’m going to go find Mrs. Walters.” Kezia didn’t say a word as she left. All she got out of Maybelle was a snort and a snore. A sure sign she was waking up.

  Felicity went down the hall and spoke briefly with what brides she could find in search of Mrs. Walters. She hoped Chase was having better luck finding the mayor. If not, she was sure of at least one bride that would be leaving: her. Except that she didn’t have any place to go – at least none where her dignity would let her.

  * * *

  “Absolutely not!” Judge Henry Whipple said, and then drained his coffee. “I’m not staying in Noelle any longer than I have to. My stomach …” As if to make his point, the judge’s belly made an odd, gurgling noise. “You know how it gets with Nacho’s cooking. Ugh, that man should be the first married off.”

  “Tell that to Nacho,” Chase countered. He’d run into the newly-arrived circuit judge in the saloon while searching for Charlie, but their conversation was far from encouraging. Judge Whipple was a bear of a man (of the “fat and ready to hibernate” variety) who didn’t tolerate nonsense, and at the moment was being downright surly. Why wouldn’t he want to stay and help him convince Charlie to get married – or better, help him see it done? That is if he could find Charlie … “But he’s got to get married!”

  “Can’t force him. Wouldn’t be right.”

  “But Miss Partridge is funny, kindhearted, dedicated to her cause …” He didn’t say what cause – who knew how the cranky old judge would react to a suffragette?

  “And another thing! That battle-ax Mrs. Walters – who is this woman? I hear she’s threatening to pack the brides up and leave tomorrow. What’ll you do about that? Mayor Hardt is the least of your worries, if you ask me.”