Frontier Matchmaker Bride. Regina Scott

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       Chapter Three

      As Beth went about her chores that afternoon and the next morning, she gave considerable thought as to who might be the right match for Hart. She didn’t believe his protests. Her brothers had all reacted that way to courting, only to fall in love when they found the right brides. Hart might bluster all he liked, but the ladies of the Literary Society were right—he’d make some woman a fine husband.

      She decided as she cleaned out the main cabin, which served as a rooming house for her brother’s logging crew, that he needed a woman of substance, maturity. As she helped John’s wife, Dottie, bring in the wash hanging on the line before a squall came in, she determined that an impoverished lady might touch on his sense of chivalry and convince him to help. And she kept her promise. She said nothing to any of her family about her plan.

      She had a few women in mind when she went to fetch the mail on Wednesday. Wallin Landing had its own post office, sanctioned by the Postmaster General of the United States, no less, but someone had to carry the letters and parcels from Seattle to her brother James’s store and back. When she stopped at the mercantile on Front Street, however, Seattle’s postmaster was apologetic.

      “A big storm ran down the Strait,” Mr. Pumphrey told her, rubbing at the counter with his thick fingers. “I heard it even toppled houses in Victoria. All ships have been delayed, alas.”

      “We’ll send someone back later in the week,” Beth promised. “Have you seen Deputy McCormick today?”

      “He rode past not a quarter hour ago, heading toward the docks.” He leaned across the counter, heavy features lifting. “If you see him, will you tell him his books arrived?”

      Beth glanced to the far wall, where leather spines promised adventure and romance. Mr. Pumphrey had stocked the largest collection of books and magazines of any mercantile in Seattle. Her brother John usually had to be dragged from the store before he spent all his money.

      “What did he order?” she asked.

      His smile brightened his green eyes. “Dime novels—cowboys, train robberies, kidnapped maidens. Perhaps he learns something about being a deputy by reading them.”

      She promised to let Hart know. Leaving her brother’s horses tied in front of the store, she started for the docks. Dime novels. Who would have thought? They were thrilling, sensationalist, romantic. A shame he hadn’t learned more from them than the importance of enforcing the law.

      The docks were busy as she approached. When she was a girl, Seattle had boasted only one wharf. Now six others stretched across the shores of Elliott Bay. Three ships had made it to port before the big storm. Sailors and teamsters were still working to unload the cargo. The steamer from San Francisco had also docked, longboats heading out to ferry the passengers and luggage ashore.

      Even in all the movement, she easily spotted Hart’s black hat, his tall figure. Because it was useless to call over the whine and whir of the nearby sawmill, she stepped out onto the dock. Her rosy skirts were a sharp contrast to the weathered wood, the clumps of lichen and moss, the dark clouds hanging heavy. But it wasn’t the threat of rain that made work screech to a halt as she passed. Men lowered their end of boxes to tip their caps. Others offered smiles and nods. One enterprising fellow with dark hair darted in front of her.

      “Can I help you, miss?”

      A blond elbowed him aside, one thumb hooked in the suspenders that covered his flannel shirt. “I’m the man for the job, miss. Anything you need.”

      His colleague shoved him. “Back off, you lout. I saw her first.”

      The other man raised a fist.

      “Gents.” Both the men froze at Hart’s raspy drawl as the lawman moved up behind them. “I believe the lady is looking for me.”

      “Yes, please,” Beth said with a smile to the would-be brawlers. “But thank you for your eagerness to help.”

      The first swept her a bow. “Anything for you, milady.”

      His colleague pushed on his shoulders, nearly oversetting him, then ran off with a laugh, the first in hot pursuit.

      “They’re so cute at that age,” Beth said.

      Hart shook his head. “You’re not much older.”

      “But so much wiser.” She linked her arm with his. СКАЧАТЬ