Читать книгу Frontier Matchmaker Bride - Regina Scott - Страница 16

Chapter Five

Hart hadn’t been enthused about Beth’s idea to move into town from Wallin Landing, but Allegra was as welcoming as Beth had hoped when she called that afternoon to ask a favor. The dark-haired beauty had come with Beth’s sisters-in-law and Maddie Haggerty in the second Mercer expedition bringing brides to Seattle, but the widow had become engaged before she ever reached Seattle’s shores. Her onetime sweetheart had sailed with the expedition and convinced her to marry him instead.

Now her daughter from her first marriage, Gillian, had been joined by a little brother, Georgie. Beth had watched both children grow. Gillian was thirteen, and Georgie was seven, fair-haired like their fathers but with their mother’s refined features. They were equally excited to have Beth come stay with them.

“You can tell me all about the latest styles,” Gillian gushed.

Georgie made a face. “Dresses, bah. You can show me how to shoot. Pa says you’re better than he is.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Beth demurred, thinking of the stalwart businessman who was the boy’s father. Clay Howard had traveled the country, including working on the California gold fields, before settling in Seattle. He knew how to take care of himself.

Her family, however, wasn’t so sure about her. The first people she told about her plans when she returned to Wallin Landing that evening were Drew and his wife, Catherine. She generally cooked and kept house for her oldest brother’s logging crew, after all. Drew would have to make other arrangements while she was in town.

“Out of the question,” he said when she went to his cabin across the big clearing at Wallin Landing. “You have too much to do here.”

He seemed so determined, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Strangers took one look at his broad shoulders, his muscular build, and concluded the blond giant must be a bear of a man. His family and friends knew the warm heart that beat inside that massive chest, and felt free to ignore his edicts.

Catherine, ever the reasonable one, put a hand on his arm as if to restrain further comments. Raised near Boston and trained to be a nurse, she had an elegant way about her Beth could only admire. She was certain it had something to do with Catherine’s pale blond hair and light blue eyes.

“What will you be doing in Seattle, Beth?” she asked politely.

Beth couldn’t tell them the whole truth. She’d promised Hart to keep quiet about the matter. And her brothers didn’t like to encourage her matchmaking, for all none of them might have married without her help.

“I’ve promised to assist Allegra and the Literary Society in a matter,” she said.

Catherine eyed her husband. “The Literary Society? How nice that the most influential ladies in Seattle would enlist the aid of a Wallin.”

If Drew was impressed, he didn’t show it. “If they’re so important they ought to be able to take care of the matter themselves,” he grumbled in his deep voice. “You have work here.”

Beth put her hands on her hips. “May I remind you that I took on cooking for the crew, without pay I might add, because you were concerned they couldn’t fend for themselves? They are grown men, Drew. Surely they can make their own way without me for a little while.”

Drew leaned back. “That wasn’t the work I meant, though I am grateful for your help. You have a claim to improve. You’re still living in Simon’s old cabin. You haven’t even built one for yourself yet, and you’ve had the land for nearly two of the five years allowed. If the territorial land office learns you aren’t living on the claim, you could lose it.”

Why did talking with her brothers always make her feel like a child again? “I know the law. I must live on the property six months of the year. I’ll be back after Easter, and we can decide on plans for the cabin then.”

His arms fell. “After Easter? You won’t be here for the celebration?”

He sounded so forlorn that her heart went out to him. “Of course I’ll come home for Easter. You couldn’t keep me away. Rina, Nora, Catherine and I have already been planning. I’m sure they can continue without my input.”

Drew looked as if he would keep arguing, but Catherine nodded. “It won’t be the same without you being here to direct things with your usual energy, but I’m sure we’ll make do. Dottie and Callie can help.”

Drew sighed. “Very well, if no one else has any objections.”

Of course, there were more objections. Her other brothers were nearly as argumentative when they learned of her plans. Drew must have sent his children around with the news, for the rest of her brothers descended on the main cabin shortly after she’d finished serving the logging crew dinner. Harry, Tom and Dickie wisely beat a retreat at the sight of them crowding into the front room. Beth only wished she could get away so easily.

“You’ll be too far from home,” Simon pointed out, long legs eating up the plank flooring as he paced before the stone hearth. “We can’t reach you if there’s trouble.”

“I’ll be staying at the Howards’,” Beth told him. “What sort of trouble do you expect?”

She was sorry she asked, for he stopped to tick off his concerns on his fingers. “Cholera has been reported in the territory. The town is becoming increasingly crowded with men of every sort. That windstorm cut off supplies—another could do so as well, leading to rioting in the streets.”

“Worse,” James intoned, voice like a church bell, “she might come back engaged to a sawmill worker.” He gasped and clutched his chest.

Simon looked daggers at him, but Beth shook her head at his teasing. So did her brother John.

“I’m sure we could deal with that,” he told James. “But Beth, Simon has a point. Here you have all of us for support if you need it. Who will you rely on in Seattle?”

Her middle brother, John, was such a dear, always concerned about the family. Before she could protest that she could take care of herself, Levi, her closest brother in age, spoke up.

“I have similar concerns. You need someone you can count on, Beth.”

Beth threw up her hands. “And you don’t believe Allegra and Clay are reliable? Look at the lives they’ve built—successful, admired.”

Levi had learned something about the tact required in his position of minister, for he made a sad face as if commiserating with her. “Allegra and Clay are good friends, but they aren’t family.”

“Precisely,” Simon said. “Someone should go with her.”

That was all she needed. Immediately they set about arguing who could spare time from their families and work. Beth stamped her foot to get their attention.

“No,” she said. “I don’t need anyone to look out for me. I’m not a child.”

“That,” James said, “is exactly why we’re concerned.”

Oh! Brothers!

“I have a solution,” Levi put in. “There’s someone in town as close as family who’d be glad to help Beth. Scout.”

Her brothers all nodded, stances relaxing, mouths smiling. Even Beth thought she could live with that solution. She’d known Scout Rankin all her life. Only three years her senior, he and Levi had been nearly inseparable growing up. Before James’s wife, Rina, had come to Wallin Landing as the first official schoolteacher, Beth, Levi and Scout had sat for lessons with Ma in the main cabin. The three of them had fished and hunted together, climbed trees together, chased each other through the woods. Only when Levi and Scout had set off to seek their fortunes on the gold fields of the British territories to the north had the trio been parted.

Scout and Levi had had a falling-out along the way, but since their friend’s return to Seattle last month, they had made up. Scout had come back a wealthy man and had purchased a fine house in town. And he had proven himself a good friend.

But while her brothers were certain Scout could keep an eye on Beth, Beth was equally certain she ought to be keeping an eye on Scout. He’d returned to Seattle triumphant, just as he and Levi had always dreamed. But his quiet nature and the wariness learned under his abusive father seemed to be keeping him from accepting the place he’d earned in society.

What he needed was a wife.

She told him as much when they met at the Pastry Emporium two days later, after she’d moved in with the Howards and made arrangements to start the next phase of her plan to find Hart a bride.

She smiled at her old friend sitting across one of the wrought-iron tables from her, looking rather dapper in an olive coat and tan trousers. Scout had never been as tall or muscular as her brothers. His dark hair was longer than currently fashionable, brushing his collar. His narrow face was marred by a crooked nose that had been broken years ago, and his left cheek bore a scar he had received while he’d been away.

“Oh, you needn’t worry,” he said, soft brown gaze dropping to the tabletop. “I doubt anyone will want to marry me.”

Beth nudged his foot with her own, and he glanced up.

“You are a gentleman,” she reminded him.

Scout quirked a smile. “I suppose money will do that for a fellow.”

“Nonsense,” Beth said, applying herself to the cinnamon roll Maddie had placed between them, white sugar icing dripping from the still-warm sides. “You were a gentleman before you left for the gold fields. Money doesn’t change who you are.”

He rubbed a hand on the olive-colored sleeve of his coat, as if uncomfortable with the elegant cut of the wool fabric. “It sure doesn’t.”

This time, Beth’s nudge was sharper, and he looked up, brows raised in obvious surprise.

“You stop that immediately,” she scolded. “You are a fine man, Thomas Rankin. Any lady in Seattle would be blessed to have you.”

Whether it was the use of his formal name or the tone of her voice, she wasn’t sure, but Scout grinned at her. “Well, there’s one lady I’d like to impress, but she’s awfully bossy.”

Beth stuck out her tongue at him.

Scout laughed. “See? You don’t stand for any nonsense from me or your brothers. Never have.”

“Never will,” Beth promised him.

“And that tells me it isn’t anything about me that keeps you from letting me court you. I know which way the wind blows there.”

Like her brothers, Scout had witnessed her earlier infatuation with the deputy.

“The wind has changed, Scout,” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the cinnamon roll. “I’ve changed. I don’t think I’ll ever marry either.”

“What?” He leaned closer, and she could feel him searching her face. “But you’re the matchmaker!”

“Just because I can match other people doesn’t mean I can pick my own husband reliably,” she said, voice prim. “That’s why people need a matchmaker, you know. They lack the vision to see the right person for them.”

“Funny,” Scout said, leaning back. “I thought it was lack of skills in society or lack of confidence.”

“Those can be overcome,” Beth assured him, raising her gaze with certainty. “But I’m beginning to believe none of us can reliably choose a mate on our own.”

“The human race is doomed,” he teased.

“No,” she replied with a grin. “I’ll save it.”

He laughed. “We’re a pair, I guess. I doubt any woman would want me given my family history. You doubt the man you want will return your affections.”

“I don’t doubt,” Beth told him. “I asked him. He doesn’t.”

She wasn’t sure why she told him. He could very well take the tale back to Levi and the rest of her brothers. But there was something about Scout, something sweet, something approachable.

And it was very nice to have someone commiserate with her.

His reaction was everything she might have hoped for. He drew himself up, color rushing back into his lean cheeks. “Then Deputy McCormick is nothing but a low-down skunk, and you’re better off without him.”

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Hart said as he stopped by their table.

* * *

He watched as Beth washed white. She’d been so intent on her conversation with Scout Rankin she probably hadn’t heard the shop bell. Georgie Howard had told him Beth had come to visit. The boy often joined Hart at the paddock to help him rub down Arno. But Beth hadn’t approached Hart, and he found himself eager to speak to her. After all, he needed to know how she intended to follow through on her threat to find him a wife. Then he’d spotted her through the window and had decided to ask.

Besides, he still wasn’t any too sure about Scout. He’d known the fellow since Scout was seventeen. He’d seemed the sneaky, weak-natured son of a crooked, cruel father. Ben Rankin’s homemade liquor and high-stakes card games had been the ruin of many a man in Seattle. His son might be living in a fancy house instead of the shack along Lake Union where his father had raised him. He might be wearing better clothes than the torn trousers and rough wool shirt that had been his habitual outfit, but until Hart knew this apple had fallen farther from the tree, he couldn’t feel comfortable with Scout spending time with Beth.

Scout flushed now, but he rose to his feet and met Hart’s gaze unflinchingly. “Deputy. I’m glad to hear we’re in agreement.”

“Stranger things have happened.” He turned to Beth, who seemed to have recovered by the way her chin came up. “What brings you to Seattle, Miss Wallin?”

Scout bristled. “Seems to me this is a free country. Beth can go wherever she likes.”

“Deputy McCormick isn’t questioning my rights, Scout,” she said, keeping her dark blue gaze on Hart. “He’s concerned what I may be doing. You must know I’ve deposited my things with the Howards, Deputy. I will stay in Seattle as long as it takes to accomplish my goal.”

At least she hadn’t mentioned that goal aloud. It was bad enough the Literary Society had been discussing his matrimonial prospects. He didn’t need Scout Rankin laughing behind his back.

“Your family will miss you,” he told her.

Her look softened. “And I will miss them. All the more reason to settle things quickly. I believe you have this afternoon off?”

How did she know? He took care to vary the days and times so no criminal would guess when the law might be absent. Had Mrs. Wyckoff learned his schedule from her husband?

“I do,” he acknowledged.

She nodded. “Good. You have an appointment at Ganzel’s at two.”

The barber? He certainly hadn’t made that appointment. “Do I, now?”

“You do.” The twinkle in her eyes was unmistakable. “And I believe Messieurs Black and Powell are expecting you at three.”

The tailors as well. She had been busy.

“And if I had other plans for the afternoon?”

The twinkle became a gleam. “Cancel them.” She rose suddenly, and Scout stepped to her side as if protecting her, his gaze defiant as he looked toward Hart.

“I must be going,” she said. “Scout, it was lovely to see you. Let’s keep in touch while I’m in town. I haven’t given up on our plans.” In her usual impetuous manner, she gave him a hug.

Hart was more interested in her words. Plans? What plans did she have with the fellow? Was Rankin looking for a bride, too?

Releasing Scout, Beth nodded to Hart. “Deputy. Don’t disappoint me.” She swept from the shop to the chime of the bell.

Scout sighed like a moonstruck schoolboy.

“Someone should marry her,” Hart spat out.

Scout started, then peered more closely at him. “I have it on good authority the only man she ever wanted turned her down.”

Had she confessed? He had been under the impression she’d told no one. After all, none of her brothers had come calling demanding an explanation. If Beth trusted Scout so much that she’d share her secret, perhaps Hart had been mistaken about the man.

On the other hand, the gang along the waterfront had risen to prominence in the month since Scout had come back. Maybe he hadn’t returned wealthy. Maybe his money was coming from somewhere else. Maybe, like his father, he saw other men as victims rather than friends.

Hart straddled Beth’s chair. “Sit down, Rankin. I’d like a word with you.”

The sullen look reminded Hart of Scout as a youth. One of Scout’s jobs had been to come in to Seattle and entice men out to his father’s place to drink and gamble. It struck Hart now that the pattern was a great deal like what the gang was doing.

Still, Scout obeyed his command and sat, gaze hard on Hart’s face.

Hart leaned back. “You arrived in town the middle of February, didn’t you?”

Scout nodded.

“Any particular reason you wanted to return?”

Scout’s smile was more sneer. “It’s home.”

Hart stuck out his lower lip. “Not much of a home to return to. Your pa’s gone. He lost his claim.”

“Because you drove him out.”

Now, there was some venom. The color was rising in his cheeks again.

“Guilty,” Hart said. “But then, so was he, of moonshining, cheating at cards.”

“Oh, he was guilty, all right.” Scout leaned across the table, gaze drilling into Hart. “But I’m not. I intend to be a fine, upstanding citizen, Deputy. You have no call to hound me.”

Hart nodded, and Scout rose. Instead of leaving, however, he came around the table, forcing Hart to his feet. Though Scout was a good six inches shorter, the heat radiating off him made Hart take a step back.

“And you have no need to hound Beth Wallin, either,” Scout said, tenor voice surprisingly hard. “She’s been through enough on account of you. If I hear you’ve hurt her further, you’ll have to deal with me. And I promise you, Deputy, I can be even less forgiving than my father.”