Page 13 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Twelve

Val clutched the coat, scarf, and gloves tight to her chest as if they might fly away.

She’d never had anything so fine. Yet what was he doing buying her such things?

She was confused. Val knew she was more than a little attracted to Micah, and his gift set off a number of warning bells.

Was that why he asked if she could live in a place like this?

Did he have feelings for her? Good grief, she was a single female after all.

Maybe he was interested in a wife. Had one of the Busy Bees talked him into it? Suggested he buy her these things?

The questions were still rattling in her head when he spoke. “Val, was it something I said? You seem upset.”

She looked up at him and hoped she wouldn’t do something silly like cry just because he gave her a few things.

“Oh, you’ve said plenty, Micah Sutton, but I’m not sure I should listen.

I’m thanking you.” She clutched the coat tighter.

“And I appreciate it. It was a grand gesture, Micah Sutton, thank you.”

“Micah Sutton,” he repeated. “Do you always use a person’s full name when you’re nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” she said, hugging the coat closer. “I’m a little flustered, that’s all. It’s to be expected after receiving such a fine gift… or rather, gifts. Now, I really ought to go…”

Before she could take a step, someone ran toward them. He looked like a miner.

“Preacher Sutton! Preacher Sutton, come quick!”

“What is it?” Micah asked.

The man came to a stop. His coat was torn and patched, his floppy hat worse for wear, an old red scarf around his neck, work gloves on his hands.

“It’s Jed… he done and did it again.”

Micah put a hand on Val’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “It’s Jed. One of the miners. He sometimes gets it in his head that he’s… well. You can come along if you’d like.”

“What?”

Thaddeus fidgeted. “Do ya think it’s because Jed’s upset he didn’t get a bride?”

“Jed’s not ready for a bride,” Micah said. He sighed and looked at Val again. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Unless you’d like to come along?”

Curiosity was killing her. She had to know what was going on. “All right,” she said.

They cut across the street where the blacksmith’s shop stood. Behind it, they found another miner yelling at the air, shaking his fist.

“Is he drunk?” Val asked.

“A little,” Thaddeus said.

Micah shook his head and looked at her. “Jed does this now and then. But I can handle it. Stand over there, please.” Without asking, he guided her to the corner of the building. “Don’t move,” he ordered gently.

He then turned to Jed, who was still arguing with no one. “Jed!” Micah called. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Jed turned, eyes wide. “I need a new pair of boots, preacher, and I had the money, but now it’s gone. I don’t know where I put it!”

Val noticed a bottle in his hand. Empty. Whiskey, no doubt. Her heart stuttered when she saw the gun in his other hand. “Oh no,” she whispered.

Jed holstered the gun. Thank goodness. “Somebody done robbed me,” he complained.

“Now, now, Jed, it’s nothing to get upset about,” Micah said. “You probably misplaced the money like last time. Remember?”

Jed thought a moment. “Oh yeah, I done hid things in my sock, but my sock had a hole, and the money fell out.”

“Yes, and we found it near your stove in the woodpile.”

“I was swinging my sock around,” Jed laughed. “You think I burned my money?”

Micah smiled. “No, but I do think you lost it again. Why don’t we go to your place, and I’ll help you find it? Then you can take a nap. You look a little rough.”

Jed looked himself over. “I feel rough, Preacher. I wish I had one of those brides.” His eyes landed on Val, widening. “Look, there’s one right now! Did you bring her to me? Is she a present?”

Micah smiled and took him by the arm. “No, I’m afraid not. That’s the escort for the brides. She’ll be returning to Chicago.”

“But why can’t she stay?” Jed whined.

Thaddeus edged closer to Val. “He’s really good with Jed,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes, I can see that.” Val watched Micah continue to speak to Jed gently but firmly.

“Jed, like a lot of men in town, goes a little stir-crazy now and then,” Thaddeus explained. “He has to blow off steam. But Jed talks to himself sometimes, maybe because he doesn’t have anyone else to talk to. He doesn’t have many friends.”

“Oh dear.” Val tilted her head.

“Jed’s cantankerous. Absent-minded, too.”

“I know how that goes,” she said with a smile. “I work with three ladies who are very absent-minded. I admit we all talk to ourselves.”

Thaddeus gave her a wry smile. “That’s comforting to know, Miss O’Malley. Otherwise someone might think you’ve gone plumb loco.”

“Val O’Malley,” she corrected.

“Miss O’Malley,” he said with a nod. “Preacher Sutton will take Jed back, help him find his missing money, and then Jed will buy himself those new boots he’s been wanting. Then everything will be fine.”

She watched Micah with Jed as they walked around the other side of the building. Micah gave them a nod and disappeared.

“Preacher Sutton would like me to escort you back to the hotel, Miss O’Malley,” Thaddeus said.

“Very well. You may do so.”

He eyed the coat, gloves, and scarf in her arms. “Those are mighty pretty. They’ll look good on you. Did you just buy them?”

She gulped, unsure what to say, and finally settled for the truth. “No, they were a gift.”

“Well, that’s a nice gift,” he said. “Come on, let’s go, or Preacher Sutton will be worried if he doesn’t see us walking behind them.”

She let him lead her around the building to the street, and they started toward the hotel. Meanwhile, Micah was walking with Jed.

“Where does Jed live?” she asked.

“At the edge of town in a cabin. He does all right for himself. Came here thinking he’d strike it rich, wound up working for Mr. Dawes like a lot of us, but that’s okay. Wild Rose Ridge is a nice little town.”

“It’s not bad,” she admitted, then thought of Jed. “But how many Jeds could there be in Wild Rose Ridge?” Maybe she would fit in here, considering how much she talked to herself.

When they reached the hotel, Thaddeus tipped his worn hat and sauntered off. Val went inside, straight to her room, and deposited her gifts on the bed. Unable to resist, she put on the new coat, scarf, and gloves, then stepped back to admire herself in the small mirror on the wall.

“Why did you have to let him buy you gifts?” She looked upward, a single tear falling. “Now I don’t know how to thank him. Should I get him a gift too?”

She sat on the bed, already growing warm in the new coat.

Eyes closed, she relaxed into the heat, thinking of Micah.

Kind-hearted, generous, smart, educated.

He’d make any woman a fine husband. Perhaps she should add him to the list of gentlemen he gave her and bring an extra bride when she returned.

But what if she grew too busy in Chicago and couldn’t return?

Another escort might have to bring the brides next summer.

Hugging herself, she went to the window.

Could she make this trip again, or should she leave it to someone else?

She had only been there a few days, with just over three weeks to go.

What would happen in that time? Did she dare spend more time with Preacher Micah Sutton?

Micah Sutton. Good grief, what were the chances she’d lose her heart to the man? She laughed. “No, it’ll never happen.”

I don’t know, Margaret’s voice rang in her head. Anything can happen when love is involved.

She’s right, Valentine, Augusta chimed. It would be easy to fall in love with the likes of that preacher. My heaven, what a handsome thing he is.

“How would you know?” Val said. “You can’t see him.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and rolled her eyes. “There you go again, talking to yourself. You’re no better than Jed.”

With a sigh, she took off her coat, scarf and gloves and tossed them on the bed. “Prattling about nothing and listening to those sisters mumbling away in your head. Don’t they prattle enough already?”

You’ll never hear the end of it now, she heard the sisters laugh.

Val put her hands over her ears. It didn’t help, but it made her feel better. She decided she’d better go downstairs and see if any of the brides were gathered in the parlor. Val set the coat, gloves, and scarf aside, straightened her hair, and left her room.

Downstairs, she found no one, so she went in search of Mrs. Thompson. Perhaps Clara was in the kitchen or was she with the sheriff? Val chuckled crossing the empty lobby. So much for the Busy Bees’ rules.

Or were the Bees chaperoning? Val stopped short at the thought. “Oh, how horrible.” But there was nothing to do except track down her girls.

In the kitchen she found only Mr. Sampson and Mrs. Thompson.

“Did you need something, Miss O’Malley?” Mrs. Thompson asked, holding up a plate of cookies. “Mr. Sampson just did some baking.”

Val smiled. She really shouldn’t after having pie and coffee, but…

“They’re fresh out of the oven,” Mr. Sampson grumbled.

“Oh, well then, don’t mind if I do.” She took two cookies. “I was checking on my charges. Have you seen any of them?”

“No, I haven’t,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Clara was in here earlier, then left. And let’s see… Elizabeth Ann, I saw her earlier too, but I’ve no idea where she went.”

Val chewed, shook her head, swallowed. “Well, maybe I’ll read a bit. They’re bound to come back sooner or later.”

“Indeed, I’m sure they will,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Perhaps they’re watching the snow? Are any of them from someplace where it doesn’t snow? Who knows how long it will keep snowing. Sometimes it’s just a dusting.”

Mr. Sampson grunted near the stove in agreement.

Val smiled. “If there’s enough snow for a snowman, some of the brides might try to build one.” She held up a cookie. “Thank you for these. I look forward to dinner.”

She left the kitchen, crossed the dining room and lobby, and went into the parlor. Settling near the fire, she ate the second cookie and thought about Micah and Jed. Had they found the miner’s money?

She liked watching Micah with people. He always had a warm smile at the ready, how he listened to every word. He was patient, even with the Busy Bees, and she admired that. Any woman would be proud to be married to such a man.

So why hadn’t she sought a husband? Why keep matching other women with near-perfect men while leaving herself out?

“How should I know?” she muttered. It was a good question. Maybe she did it because she’d never been matched herself.

Augusta, Margaret, and Josie had talked her into working for them. She still wasn’t sure why she’d agreed. Part of her had been too scared to trek west as a mail-order bride. Like so many others, she’d done it out of desperation.

Her mother had died years earlier, then her father. They never had much, and she thought becoming a mail-order bride was her only choice. Thankfully, matchmaking came naturally to her, and she was good at reading people. The sisters, noticing this, immediately scooped her up.

“You can help us bring love into two people’s lives,” Margaret had said.

“Yes, and with any luck they won’t kill each other,” Josie added.

Augusta had flicked Josie’s ear, then turned to Val. “Won’t you join us in our quest to bring happiness into people’s lives?”

Val supposed those were the words that convinced her.

She’d been working with them ever since, losing count of their matches.

But this was the first time she’d escorted a group of brides.

She still had four to see wed and wasn’t about to leave until it was done.

Val only hoped nothing happened between now and the Christmas dance to thwart her efforts.