Page 12 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Eleven

Not an hour later, Val was walking down the boardwalk with Micah. He’d taken the opportunity to show her around town, and she decided to let him. There was no sign of the Busy Bees, thank goodness. She wanted a few moments of peace.

“Those women,” she muttered under her breath. “If they only knew what we’ve been talking about.”

Micah gave her a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?”

“The list of gentlemen, of course!”

“Oh, that. Well, they do know some things.”

Val stopped short. “What are you talking about?”

“They want to see the list.”

“Oh no, I don’t think that’s very wise. They’ll stick their noses into those gentlemen’s business, asking questions and coming to their own conclusions, no doubt. If I were you, I’d keep it hidden. Did you make me a copy?”

“I did.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded paper, and handed it to her.

Val unfolded it, scanned it quickly, then tucked it into her reticule. “Thank you, Micah. This gives me a good idea of what type of women to match them with.”

“I figured it would.” He smiled. “Would you like to stop at the café? I’d like you to meet Betty. I didn’t get a chance to introduce you the last time we were there.”

“Certainly.”

When they entered, the warmth and scent of coffee wrapped around her. Behind the counter, a woman in her late fifties set aside a dish rag and smiled. “Preacher Sutton, are you here for pie?”

He gave her a warm grin. “Of course, what else? Have you met Miss O’Malley yet?”

The woman looked at Val as if seeing her for the first time. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure, though I’ve heard of her.”

“This is Val O’Malley,” he said. “She escorted the mail-order brides to town.”

Betty looked Val over, then smiled at Micah. The fondness in her eyes was plain as day.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, never quite looking away from him.

“Oh boy,” Val muttered under her breath. Aloud, she added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” She took her time and glanced around the café, which had the same simple charm as the general store.

“Your usual table, Preacher Sutton?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She led them to a table on the far side. Micah pulled out a chair for Val, seated her, then took his own across from her.

“The apple pie here is exceptionally good,” he said.

Val drummed her fingers against the tabletop. Good grief, was that a pang of jealousy? Ridiculous. It couldn’t be.

“Come here often, do you?”

He smiled. “Often enough. I’ll admit, I love a good pie. Berry is my favorite, but blackberries are only in season late summer or fall. Still, Betty makes a fine apple.”

“Good to know.” Val’s gaze wandered again. “I wonder if any of the girls have come here yet. Have you seen them?”

“In here? No, not yet. I’m sure their betrotheds will bring them eventually. For all we know, Jeremy’s already brought Marianne.”

She nodded slowly. “Perhaps. I’d love to check in on Elinore.”

“I’m afraid that will have to wait. It’s going to snow tonight, and no one knows how much. Mr. Thompson says it’ll be a lot.”

She giggled. “Mr. Thompson is an interesting soul. How long have they managed the hotel?”

“As long as I’ve been here, about five years.”

“And you came from Leavenworth.”

He nodded. Betty arrived with two steaming cups of coffee, set them down, and left them to it.

“Sugar?” he asked.

“Please.” She watched him spoon sugar and cream into her cup, give it a stir, then do the same for his own.

“You remembered how I take my coffee,” she commented.

“I suppose I did.” He smiled and took a sip.

Val caught herself watching his every move. Land sakes, she was ogling the preacher again. Augusta’s voice chimed in her head, That’s one tall drink of water, Valentine.

She wanted to snap back, but Josie’s teasing joined in: You can’t shush us, Val!

Val closed her eyes, took a sip of coffee instead, and tried to ignore them.

Betty brought their pie, and they dug in. Val asked about Leavenworth, where he’d come from, and how he’d ended up here.

“Philadelphia originally,” he said. “I attended seminary there.”

“Really? And you came all the way out here from Leavenworth?”

He nodded. “Is that so bad? You sound shocked.”

Val pressed her lips together. She loved the city. Couldn’t imagine living anywhere else unless…

“What are you thinking, Valentine O’Malley?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Val, if you please.”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Val,” he said with emphasis. “Now, what are you thinking? You’ve got a funny look on your face.”

“About this place. I don’t know if I could live here. It’s so rugged and wild. But it does have its charm, don’t you think?”

“There is that,” he agreed. “But what if you were to fall in love? Would you live in a place like this?”

She considered. It was a good question. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love. I did try to become a mail-order bride once but ended up working for the sisters.”

He laughed. “And you’ve been there ever since.”

“I have. Don’t get me wrong, the three are dears.

Margaret is a hopeless romantic, Josie’s bossy, and Augusta is the leader.

They’re scatterbrained, and when one starts in on another, the three can argue all day.

Merciful heavens, it causes such a racket.

And when one of them loses something, they can search all day, but I’m the one who usually finds it. ”

He laughed again. “They sound adorable.”

“They’re terrors! Menaces is what they are! I can only imagine the trouble they’re getting into while I’m here.”

Micah swallowed the last of his pie. “So you’ll return on the Merry Jo when it comes back?”

“That’s my plan.” She took another bite, puzzling over the sudden weight in her gut. Dread. What brought that on? The thought of the storm?

As if reading her mind, Micah reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to worry. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.”

“Although I am a little worried about some of my girls. Do you get a lot of snow here?”

Micah nodded. “We can get quite a bit, probably more than Chicago. Everyone hunkers down, tries to stay warm, and that’s it.

Folks still go out and about. They just can’t move around as quickly until the roads are cleared.

You’ll be fine, Val, and so will your brides.

Trust me.” He looked out the window. “It’s starting to snow, yes, but it shouldn’t be too bad. ”

She sighed. “I do worry about them. And what about this Christmas dance? I know we’ve talked about it, but I want them to enjoy it. I want it to be magical for them.”

He gave her a slow smile. “You really do care about them, don’t you?”

“Well, of course I do!”

He glanced down at their hands, his still covering hers, and so did she. His palm was large and warm, like a shield over her own. Neither seemed willing to move.

“Ahem!” Betty’s voice cut in like a cracked bell.

They jumped apart as though scalded. Betty stood with her hands folded, tapping one finger against her apron. “Would you like anything else? Anything else at all, Preacher Sutton?”

Micah cleared his throat. “Oh… um, no, Betty. Thank you. We’re just chatting now.”

“I see.” Her smirk said otherwise. She scooped up their plates with a clatter that spoke volumes, turned on her heel, and bustled away.

Val’s cheeks burned hotter than the stove behind the counter. Goodness gracious. Micah only smiled, and there it was again, that steady look in his eyes. Admiration, yes, but maybe something more.

“Perhaps I should show you the rest of town,” he suggested.

“Yes, probably a good idea.” She pushed back her chair a little too quickly, nearly toppling it, and stood.

Micah paid for their pie and coffee, then led her outside. The cold hit immediately, nipping her nose and cheeks. Their breaths puffed in little clouds as they walked.

He showed her the businesses lining one street, then the shops across and down another. The wooden boardwalk creaked beneath their steps, and the smell of woodsmoke drifted from chimneys.

“Did you plan to show me the entire town?” she asked as they crossed yet another street.

“I thought you might like to see where the Busy Bees live, at least a few of them.” He led her into a residential area dotted with grand homes.

“Oh, goodness gracious, which one is the Schultes’?”

He stopped before a lovely Queen Anne with gingerbread trim. Several of its tall windows had stained glass at the top.

“How beautiful,” Val breathed. “Would you like a house like that someday?”

He chuckled. “I don’t dare picture myself in something so grand.”

She smiled faintly. “I’ve seen bigger in Chicago, but this is a nice size, perhaps a little smaller.”

He turned her around to face the opposite street. “Like that one?”

“Oh yes!” She pressed a hand to her heart. The Gothic-style Victorian had whitewashed walls, a picket fence rimmed with frost, and shutters painted a cheerful blue. It looked like something out of a picture card. “It’s lovely too. I think I like it better than Mrs. Schulte’s.”

Val realized how breathless she sounded, cleared her throat, and walked on briskly. Micah caught up easily.

“There are places along the river I’d like to show you, but we’d better get inside. It’s growing colder. Besides…” His eyes twinkled. “There’s something I’d like to give you.”

She stopped short. “Give me? Is it another list?”

“No, Val. Something you need.” He looped her arm through his and steered them down the street.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the church. Then I’ll see you to the hotel, if that’s all right.”

“I suppose.”

At the church, he led her straight to his office. The warmth inside wrapped around her like a quilt after the sharp air outside. He opened a cabinet, pulled out a wrapped package, and set it on the desk. “For you.”

Val blinked. “What is it?”

“Open it and find out.”

She untied the string, peeled away the paper and gasped. “Micah! Goodness gracious, what have you done?”

He laughed. “What does it look like? I bought you a coat. That thing you’ve been wearing is awful.”

She gasped again. “Are you making fun of my coat?”

“I am. Is there anything wrong with that? Besides, I saw the look in your eyes when you tried this one on. You have to admit, you need a new coat. Consider it a thank-you from me and the rest of Wild Rose Ridge for bringing the brides.”

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. No one had ever bought her something so fine, not even the sisters. She lifted the coat, felt the soft wool under her fingers, and shook it out. “It’s like a blue jewel!”

“Yes, it is. And I have a few things to go with it.”

“What?” She set the coat on the desk. “You didn’t buy anything else, did you?”

“I’m afraid I did.” He retrieved two smaller packages. “Go ahead. Open them.”

“What is this, Christmas?” she laughed. “Good grief!”

Val unwrapped the first to find a pair of beautiful gloves trimmed in fur. She stared blankly at them as he slowly slid the next package toward her. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll wear them,” he replied with a warm smile.

She reached for the other package and unwrapped it.

It contained a scarf in the same brilliant blue as her coat.

The knit was soft and warm, smelling faintly of cedar from the cabinet.

She pressed it to her cheek. “Preacher Sutton, what came over you?” Her gaze lifted to his, and her breath caught.

That wasn’t just admiration in his eyes.

It was unguarded, unmistakable attraction.

Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Quickly, she gathered up her gifts. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I—I…”

He saved her from fumbling further. “How about I walk you back to the hotel now?”

She nodded quickly, clutching the coat and scarf to her chest, and together they stepped out into the falling snow.