by Kit Morgan
Belle took a few sips of her coffee and helped her self to a slice of cinnamon bread. “Auntie?”
Aunt Irene’s head snapped up. She’d been staring at the table, her coffee untouched. “What do you want?” She all but snapped.
Belle started. Aunt Irene was more on edge than ever today. “Can you teach me how to make your cinnamon bread? It’s so wonderful!”
Aunt Irene blinked a few times, almost as if she was blinking back tears. She nodded. “Of course. But you have to mind how much cinnamon you use,” she said as she wagged a finger at her. “Not too much, and not too little. Or you might as well throw the whole thing out!”
Belle smiled. “I understand. I’m looking forward to learning how you make it.”
Her aunt sat a little straighter in her chair, smiled, and finally picked up her coffee and took a sip.
A shout from outside drew their attention. And another. Belle and her aunt looked at each other as they both stood.
“Stage is here!” Uncle Wilfred yelled up the stairs.
No sooner had he said it, Belle could hear the sound of the stage pulling up in front of the mercantile. She took another sip of her coffee, wrapped her cinnamon bread in a napkin and headed downstairs. She was in charge of sorting the mail.
Willie entered the mercantile, took a quick peek around, and seeing the coast was clear (Aunt Irene was still upstairs) sauntered up to the counter with the mailbag. He offered Belle a wide, toothless grin. “Mornin, Miss Dunnigan,” he drawled and tipped his hat. He set the mailbag on the counter. “Might fine mornin ain’t it?”
Belle smiled. Willie was a sweet man, and a little shy. He was certainly starting to come out of his shell though. “Yes it is. Have you brought us anything else?”
“Yes, ma’am. Wilfred is getting it.” He said and looked longingly into her eyes.
She stepped back from the counter and looked away. She was getting used to the same sort of look from many of the unmarried men in the area. She took a deep breath as she thought of the looks Colin had given her...
“The Van Cleet wagons oughta be rollin in soon. Gonna be a mighty ruckus when they get here.” Willie spoke as he leaned against the counter.
Belle turned to face him. “How many wagons are there?”
Willie pushed his hat back. “Shucks, Miss Dunnigan. I’d have to say at least fifteen.”
“Fifteen? Are you certain there are that many?”
“Well, as sure as I can count that high, I’m sure.” Willie said shyly.
Belle smiled. She had to remind herself that the man could barely read or write. “You are probably correct. How many men?”
“A good twenty or more. I ran across them just last week, making their way here. But it’s slow going, on account of the surprise.”
“You saw the surprise?”
“No ma’am.” Willie looked this way and that, as if to make sure they were alone, which they were, and winked conspiratorially. “But I heard it.”
Belle was about to comment when Uncle Wilfred made his way through the door carrying a few boxes. “Best help me fetch the rest, Willie. I think they’re comin!”
Willie hurried out the door to help bring in the new bolts of fabric Aunt Irene had ordered. Since the sewing circle started, the ladies had been quite busy and needed more than what the mercantile carried.
Aunt Irene hurried down the stairs. “I just saw Doc and Grandma heading up the street toward the other end of town. And Henry and Fanny Fig just drove by in their wagon! No one’s going to be coming in today with those Van Cleets getting back!”
“Since you cut everyone’s credit off, no one’s been comin in anyway.” Uncle Wilfred calmly pointed out.
Belle stifled a chuckle as Sadie walked in. “Did you hear? The Van Cleets are back!”
Aunt Irene spun on her. “Here to ruin us! I’ll have nothing to do with any of them!”
Sadie exchanged a quick look with Belle. Belle merely shrugged. She didn’t know what was wrong with her aunt. She wished she were more like Uncle Wilfred who let her aunt’s odd behavior roll off his shoulders and go about his business. It wasn’t so easy for the rest of Clear Creek to do so.
“Mrs. Dunnigan, would you mind if Belle went with me to greet the Van Cleets?” Sadie asked.
“Of course I mind! She has work to do and can’t possibly leave!”
Belle’s face fell and she let go a heavy sigh. Here we go...
“Now there’s no reason why Belle can’t go watch along with everybody else,” Uncle Wilfred began. “In fact, why don’t you go too? I’ll mind things here.”
“Why on earth would I want to? Who knows what sort of filth that Cyrus Van Cleet is bringing into this town!”
Cyrus Van Cleet? The name was familiar. Belle was sure she knew it. But where had she heard it?
The sound of booted feet outside the door pulled Belle away from her thoughts. Colin! She straightened and fought the urge to pinch her cheeks and smooth her dress. Sadie glanced to the door, confirming his presence on the other side.
Belle’s heart raced in her chest and it was all she could do not to let loose a little squeal of delight. Good Heavens! One would think she was a silly young schoolgirl! But the elation she felt just knowing he was on the other side of the door couldn’t be denied. She closed her eyes a brief moment. Great jumpin horny toads! (To quote Uncle Wilfred) Was she falling in love?
Oh dear.
“Go on with Sadie, Belle. Your aunt and I can handle things here for a spell.”
“Uncle Wilfred, you mean it?”
He jerked his head toward the door. “Go find out what the big surprise is. In fact, me and your aunt will lock up and join you.”
“We’ll do no such thing!” Aunt Irene spat.
“We’ll do what I say we’ll do and that’s that. Now get your shawl and let's go!”
Aunt Irene’s eyes narrowed to two dark slits. Her jaw became tight, her face red. Sadie grabbed Belle by the arm and hurried toward the door to let the Dunnigans do what ever it was they needed to do before leaving themselves. If they left at all.
* * *
What folks were in town that morning had already gathered behind the livery stable and peered down the road that led into Clear Creek. Wagons could be seen approaching in the distance and the people ooo’d and ahhhh’d at the sight.
Belle looked around for Colin but didn’t see him. Her heart sank. “Did Colin drive you into town?”
Sadie smiled. “He went to go speak to Doc about something. He’ll be along. Don’t worry.”
Belle inwardly sighed in relief. She began to walk with a new spring in her step knowing she would see Colin and soon the women joined the rest of the townsfolk to stand, wait, and speculate.
“What do you suppose it is?” Henry Fig asked.
“Could be most anything!” Mr. Mulligan exclaimed. “Gotta be big! Look at all those wagons! How did Cyrus pull this off?”
“Yeah,” began Sheriff Hughes. “For one thing, where’d he get the money to pay for all the building supplies and men?”
“Maybe he got a lucky hand in a poker game.” Frank Turner suggested.
The men continued to guess as Belle and Sadie listened. Cyrus Van Cleet had come to Clear Creek not long after the Cooke family. He and his wife Polly lived simply in a one bedroom little yellow house just outside of town. They owned a wagon, one horse, one cow, and a few chickens. So where had Cyrus acquired the money to fund the building of his hotel?
Belle racked her brain. The meaning behind the Van Cleet name was just out of reach. She knew it meant something but off the top of her head, she couldn’t remember what. The fact it was familiar puzzled her even more. How would she have heard about Cyrus Van Cleet? She’d only been in Clear Creek a little over two weeks. In fact, today would be the first day she would meet the man. She hadn’t seen him around the tiny town up until now.
The first wagon rolled up to the waiting crowd. A wiry gentleman was seated next to a petite woman
. They had to be the Van Cleets. He took off his hat and waved at the waiting townsfolk. “Hellooooo, Clear Creek!” He hollered.
Several men took off their hats and waved back.
“Hellooooo, Cyrus!” Mr. Mulligan shouted as the wagon stopped in front of the crowd.
“Look Polly! A reception committee!” Mr. Van Cleet exclaimed to his wife.
Mrs. Van Cleet was a pretty woman. She smiled at the townspeople, her blue eyes sparkling as she did, then turned to her husband. “We’d best get to work, Cyrus.”
Mr. Van Cleet laughed. “Follow us, folks! And see what we’ve brought! After we’re through with everything we have planned, this town will be ship shape!”
The people cheered and followed Mr. Van Cleet’s wagon as it made it’s way toward the new church.
“Belle, aren’t you coming?” Sadie asked.
Belle remained where she was and nodded. She needed a brief moment to collect herself as the memory she’d been searching for suddenly surfaced.
But of course, it all fit. No wonder the Van Cleet’s were able to bring back so many supplies and men to build their hotel. And if her guess was right, he’d be building more than just a hotel in Clear Creek. After all, Mr. Cyrus Van Cleet was one of two brothers who owned the Van Cleet Shipping Company. And that, as Belle recalled, made Cyrus Van Cleet one of the richest men in Boston. But did the people of Clear Creek know? More importantly, what was Cyrus Van Cleet doing way out west in Clear Creek to begin with?
Belle caught up to Sadie, intent on finding out.
Nine
The Van Cleet’s lead wagon pulled up in front of the new church. The structure was finished for the most part, but still needed a few things. Paint, pews, and a pulpit for starters. But it would serve well enough if it had to be used in its current not-quite-finished state. At least it had four walls and a roof.
But Cyrus Van Cleet would have none of that.
“Good citizens of Clear Creek!” He shouted from the wagon. “I’ve brought a few gifts from Oregon City!”
The people cheered as several hats flew threw the air. Belle giggled at the townsfolk’s obvious excitement. If only the society matrons back in Boston could see this. Such pleasure derived from the generosity of one man.
Mr. Van Cleet waved to a gentleman astride a beautiful Appaloosa. He and another man positioned themselves, one on either side of the wagon. They each grabbed a rope hanging from the wagon’s canvas. Belle and Sadie looked at each other then the canvas of the covered wagon, which wasn’t canvas at all, but a much lighter material.
Cyrus pulled his wife Polly up to stand beside him. “May this gift ring true for all of us and all the generations to come!”
The two men spurred their horses into action. They hurried from the wagon, pulling the cover off as they did to reveal the gift underneath.
A bell.
A very large bell.
“Shall I have your name carved upon it?” A deep male voice whispered into Belle’s ear.
A smile engulfed her face. She couldn’t help it. Colin had finally turned up. “Are you implying I’m shaped like a bell?”
Colin snorted. It was that or burst out laughing and draw attention to himself. “Not at all. But it’s a beautiful bell.” He drew a little closer, his whisper lowered. “Like you, Miss Dunnigan. Beautiful, Belle.”
A shiver shot up her spine and down again. She fought the urge to turn around and face him. She glanced to where Sadie now stood. She had gone to the wagon with the rest of the crowd and Belle could hear Sadie’s words of admiration mingled with the others as they studied the Van Cleet’s gift.
“I’ve brought craftsmen who will build the pews and pulpit! And workers to construct the hotel!” Mr. Van Cleet announced.
The townsfolk cheered; Belle, Colin and Sadie along with them. This was an exciting day in Clear Creek. It was an exciting day for Belle. And, unable to stand it any longer, she turned around.
Colin grinned. “Miss Dunnigan,” he said and tipped his hat.
“Mr. Cooke,” she replied with a slight curtsy.
And then it happened. The noise of the crowd fell away. The movement of the people around them seemed to still, and Belle and Colin became the only two people in existence. Belle vaguely recalled reading about such a phenomenon, probably in some novel, but still marveled at the fact it was happening to her.
Her mouth went dry, her eyes wide as Colin’s body drew closer. His face then began to lower itself as one arm came up and wrapped around her. Everything moved as if in slow motion. The bell suddenly sounded as men pushed it to the edge of the wagon. The people cheered at the beautiful noise. Everyone had to be focused on unloading it because no one seemed to pay them any attention. And being as how Colin was obviously about to kiss her, one would think someone would say or do something to stop the indecent act. They were out in public after all. But no one did, which meant it was really going to happen this time.
As Colin’s eyes locked with hers, Belle quickly prayed Sadie wasn’t armed with a rock.
And before she knew it, his lips, ever so gently, brushed against hers. “Welcome to Clear Creek, Miss Dunnigan,” he whispered.
Belle’s knees went a little weak, her head swam. Good heavens! It was better than she imagined. And she had imagined his kiss a lot! In fact, the kisses she imagined were much more intense than what he’d just delivered. Yet, the gentleness of his kiss was partner to an incredible restraint. She could feel the muscles in his arm flex with the effort it took to hold himself back. Back from the sort of kiss he really wanted to give her.
He released her suddenly. Except for one hand that slowly slid down the length of her arm to engulf her hand in his. He squeezed it, smiled, and then turned his attention to the new church bell.
It dinged and donged as more than a dozen men worked to get it off the wagon.
Belle stood next to him, the warmth and feel of his lips still fresh and alive. She fought the urge to reach up and place her fingers where his lips had so gently grazed her own. Instead she reveled in the contentment of her hand in his. It was a large, capable, strong hand. Like him. Capable, strong, and for Belle larger than life. She’d not met any man of his ilk in Boston.
Speaking of Boston, Mr. Van Cleet was heading straight for them.
Colin held out his hand as the smaller man approached. Mr. Van Cleet smiled and took it. “Well, Colin! How are you?" He exclaimed as he shook Colin’s hand vigorously. “Haven’t had a chance to see much of your or Duncan since you got back! Been busy as a bee! A bee I tell you!”
“Harrison’s been keeping Duncan and I almost as busy as you! You heard about the cattle I presume?”
“Of course! Heard about it all the way over in Oregon City!”
“Oregon City? Really? I didn’t know our affairs were such big news.”
“A gift of a thousand head of cattle is big news any where, son.” Mr. Van Cleet said before he turned his attention to Belle. “And who do we have here?”
Colin beamed. “Mr. Van Cleet, may I introduce Miss Belle Dunnigan. She’s newly arrived from Boston not two weeks ago.”
Mr. Van Cleet nodded and smiled in greeting but Belle could see his jaw tighten the minute Colin mentioned Boston. Did the man not want anyone to know who he was?
“A relation of Wilfred and Irene’s?” Mr. Van Cleet asked.
“Yes,” Belle answered. “Uncle Wilfred invited me to come here after the death of my father.”
“I see. So sorry about your father. Were you raised in Boston then?” He asked, his smile still in place.
“Yes.”
“I was a Boston man myself once, a long time ago. But adventure called me away and here I am!” He took her free hand. “Mind if I steal her away from you Colin? I’d like to introduce her to Polly. And while I’m doing that, I’m sure the boys would love another hand to help with the bell.”
Colin let go her hand, tipped his hat, and smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Van Cleet.”
Belle watched Colin as he made his way to the wagon where the rest of the men labored. Even Sadie had gotten in the middle of it and was helping to guide the bell off the wagon. Mr. Van Cleet stayed where he was, his smile firmly in place, and turned to her. “I wonder if I know your family, Miss Dunnigan. Tell me, who was your father?”
Belle smiled in return. “James Dunnigan.”
Mr. Van Cleet’s smile broadened. “Of Dunnigan Mills?”
“Yes.”
“Why I had no idea he’d passed on. My condolences. Whatever are you doing out here then? Dunnigan Mills was booming when I left to come out west.”
Belle spied Colin now totally immersed in working alongside the other men. The sight of him comforted her. “Things change, sir. And what of your business? Are you not Cyrus Van Cleet, of the Van Cleet Shipping Company?”
Mr. Van Cleet glanced about before he spoke in a low tone. “Miss Dunnigan, you are quite correct. But you see the people of Clear Creek don’t know that. This may seem an odd request, but I would much appreciate it if they didn’t find out.”
So, she was right. He was of the Van Cleet Shipping Company. “I must confess, I don’t understand why you would keep your origins a secret.”
“I longed for a simpler life, Miss Dunnigan. So I sold back to my brother Reginald part of my half of the company, and came out west to seek ... well, not fame and fortune obviously. I had that in Boston. No, I came out here looking for adventure!”
“Adventure?”
“I’m not a numbers man like Reggie. I like building things. Great things. Our father built the shipping company, my brother excels at running it. I came out here to build my own empire.”
Belle smiled. “And you don’t want the people to know because ...?”
“Because I want them to be able to be a part of it and not think I’m just giving them charity. This little town means a lot to me, Miss Dunnigan. And I want to see it prosper. The folks here all have a story. Stories they think might keep them from settling someplace like Oregon City.”
Now he had Belle’s attention. “Stories? What kind of stories?”
“Stay here long enough and you’ll find out. You obviously already know about the Cooke boys. At least, I assume so. You and Colin were holding hands.”