Page 14 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Thirteen

Late afternoon the next day, Val went into the hotel’s parlor and sat in front of the fire in an ornate chair. It was comfortable, and she liked it. She especially liked being warm.

Val thought of her brides and wondered how Elinore was getting along.

Marianne and Jeremy were still working on the carpentry shop and should be fine.

Ella of course was getting to spend time with the deputy and his daughter by watching over the latter during the day, so that was good.

Val was sure the mother in-law was benefiting from Ella’s company too.

Cornelia and Tucker seemed to be getting along, and she hoped they continued to do so.

Clara on the other hand, was growing more agitated, and Val wanted to speak with her to find out what was wrong.

Then there was Elizabeth Ann, trying to nurse her injured betrothed only to learn some devastating news.

Val pinched the bridge of her nose. So what if there had been a few mishaps?

Everything was still working out, slowly but surely.

So long as she had four couples standing before Micah come Christmas Eve, she’d be happy.

Her job would be done. Then all she had to do was wait for the Merry Jo to come upriver, dock, board, and leave.

She’d be back in Chicago in no time. Okay, two weeks or so, but who was counting?

Val let her hand drop and decided she needed something hot to drink.

Behind the counter in the lobby, Mrs. Thompson looked up and smiled. “Miss O’Malley, it’s nice to see you. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Preacher Sutton.”

“Yes, I have,” Val said. “We have much to discuss.”

“I’m sure you do.” Mrs. Thompson’s gaze drifted to the front windows. “Have… you been enjoying your time with him?”

Val inwardly cringed. “Yes, he’s a very nice man.”

“He’ll be along shortly,” Mrs. Thompson said, her smile widening.

Val turned away from her and looked out the hotel windows. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, to make his rounds.”

Val had to ask and turned back. “Rounds?”

The woman nodded. “He checks on people to make sure they have everything they need once we start getting some good snow falls. It’s his way of shepherding the whole town.”

Val’s eyebrows shot up.

Mrs. Thompson smiled. “He tries to take care of everyone, not just those who belong to his flock.”

“Does he go to the logging camps?”

“No, Preacher Jasper takes care of those.”

“I’m not sure how well he’ll be able to do that now,” Val murmured. She turned toward the door again just as it opened.

Micah walked in, took off his hat and stomped his feet to get the snow off.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said.

“Good afternoon.” Mrs. Thompson greeted.

He smiled at her then turned to Val. “I was going to ask Mrs. Thompson for a hot cup of tea to warm up. Would you like one?”

“Yes, thank you.” Val couldn’t help but smile. His gray eyes were wide as he took her in, his face lit with joy.

“Do you like the snow?” she asked with a laugh.

“Yes, actually I do,” he said. “Of course, it becomes a little bothersome if you can’t get around. But yesterday’s snow fall wasn’t bad.”

“I heard you make rounds when the snows start?” Even though Mrs. Thompson had already told her, she wanted to hear it from him. He was the sort that liked to make sure everyone was taken care of. If someone needed extra help, she was sure he’d find it for them.

Val thought of her set of rooms in a Chicago tenement. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Did people help each other the way Micah did? Not really, not unless the need was dire.

“Val, are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She looked into his eyes as he approached. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need any help?”

Oh dear, what was she doing? Didn’t she decide she shouldn’t spend any more time with him than necessary? She was leaving, going back to Chicago. The last thing she needed was to get more attached to the handsome preacher.

“I could use your help,” he said softly. “It will be a good excuse for you to wear your new coat, gloves, and scarf.” He gave her a gentle smile, then nudged her toward the staircase. “Why don’t you run up and get them? We’ll have our tea, then set out.”

She nodded and did just that. When she returned, he was seated on the settee in the parlor, a cup and saucer in his hand. A tea set rested on the low table beside him, and he poured her a cup. She laid her coat, gloves, and scarf on a chair and sat next to him.

They sipped in companionable silence for a few moments before he glanced toward the window. “I’ll just be talking to people, make sure they’re prepared in case something happens when we get our first big storm. I didn’t mean to be pushy earlier. Maybe you’d rather stay here?”

“No, I want to help,” she said before she could stop herself. All right, she did want to help, and she was curious about how he cared for the town.

“Well then, I’m going to the residential area where Mrs. Schulte lives next.”

“That’s fine. I’m not afraid of Beatrice.”

Micah burst out laughing. “I’m glad to hear it. You’re one of the few in town who isn’t. She has her ways of making even the burliest logger or miner quake in his boots.”

They’d take the tea service to the kitchen and leave it with Mrs. Thompson, then be on their way.

Val watched him gather her cup and saucer, set everything neatly on the tray, and leave the room.

In the meantime, she donned her coat, gloves, and scarf, wrapping the scarf over her ears and around her neck.

As soon as he returned, they left the hotel together.

At each house, they knocked, and when someone answered, they smiled at Micah. He asked questions, offered reassurances, and was always given something to eat or drink.

By the fourth house, Val groaned. “Good grief, if I have any more cookies or cake, I’m not going to fit in my coat.”

“It’s one of the perks of being the preacher in this town,” Micah teased as they approached the next home. This one happened to be the Schultes’. He knocked, and Mr. Schulte opened the door. “Well, Preacher Sutton, it’s so nice to see you. Do come in.”

They entered, and Val marveled at the rich appointments of the front hall. It was a beautiful home, and her heart pinched with envy.

Mrs. Schulte was in the parlor, knitting in a chair beside the fire. “Preacher Sutton, how nice of you to check on us.” Her eyes slid to Val, and a smile tugged at her lips. “And Miss O’Malley is accompanying you. How nice.”

Val tried to ignore the predatory look in her eye.

She’d seen it before. The sisters back in Chicago wore the same look every time a new bride came into the company’s office.

They loved making matches, and it was obvious Beatrice Schulte did too.

“Do sit down; I’ll have something brought to warm you. Hot apple cider, perhaps?”

Micah held up a hand. “I’m afraid we can’t stay, Mrs. Schulte. We have so many others to check on, but I wanted to make sure the two of you would be all right if we got a good storm.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine,” Mr. Schulte assured. “Besides, we might not get any really bad weather until January.”

Mrs. Schulte turned her attention to Val. “I trust your brides are doing all right, at least as well as can be expected?”

“They’re fine. Don’t worry,” Val said.

“Good. I hope they’ve been following the rules.

I’ve heard several reports saying otherwise.

But now is not the time to get your side of things.

I’m sure you and Preacher Sutton have much to do, so many people to check on, you know?

” The woman winked. “Preacher Sutton takes such good care of all of us.”

“Yes, I’m learning that,” Val replied.

“We’ll leave you now,” Micah said. “Thank you for the warmth of your fire.”

They were escorted to the door by Mr. Schulte. “Thank you for checking on us, Preacher Sutton. Though it’s hardly necessary after yesterday’s snowfall. It’s not like it was a blinding snowstorm.”

“Force of habit.” Micah tipped his hat, and they stepped onto the front porch.

They finished checking the houses on that side of the street, then crossed to the other. By the time they were done, Val was growing more than a little hungry.

“My heavens, it’s starting to get dark,” Val said.

“Yes, indeed. I’d better get you back to the hotel. I’ll ask Thaddeus or one of the other men to help me finish my rounds.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, I’m sure.”

Her heart fluttered at the endearment, and she quickly looked away. Not that he could see her blush. Good heavens, her cheeks were hot enough to melt the snow.

They headed down another street, checked the homes there, and then he began to march her back toward the center of town.

“Do you check the outer areas too?”

“As much as I can when winter really sets in.”

Her heart warmed at the thought. “Oh, about Jed… did he find his money?”

Micah laughed. “He did. This time it was in a wash pan in the dry sink. It fell in when he was about to wash his socks. Something distracted him, and he forgot all about it.”

“Did he ever wash his socks?” she asked with amusement.

“No, which is why he became so despondent and wandered into town, getting angrier by the minute. Jed gets confused.”

“Yes, I could see that. He reminds me of the sisters I work with.”

“They sound delightfully chaotic.”

Val laughed and couldn’t stop. “Oh Micah, you have no idea. In fact, perhaps I could bring them along if I return in the summer. I think they might like it here.”

“Do you think they’d leave Chicago?”

She shrugged, unsure if he could see it as it grew darker. “I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve ever left the city. They’ll go out occasionally, to the park or the theatre, but they’d rather be home.”

“Me too,” he said.

She gave him a playful smirk. “There isn’t exactly a lot of entertainment in Wild Rose Ridge, now is there?”

“No, but I plan to arrange some. I’d like to put on a play. There’s a church in a little town in Oregon that does them all the time.”

“And who gets to perform?”

“Anyone who wants to. They hold auditions and everything.”

“How did you hear about it?”

“From the Weavers.”

She thought of Bella Weaver, the dressmaker, and wondered if she was related. “Who are the Weavers?”

He smiled. “A very interesting family, and a big one. They own a huge farm near Nowhere and are friends with a family from this little town in Oregon. Clear Creek, it’s called.

There’s a cattle ranch there, the Triple-C, run by some British brothers, of all things.

Anyway, some of the Weavers visited Clear Creek and heard all about their plays.

I thought we could do the same here. Perhaps something in the summer and one in the winter. What do you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I don’t live here.”

He looked at her in the growing darkness. “You could.”

She stiffened. “Whatever do you mean?”

“If you ever wanted to leave Chicago, you could live here. You’d have friends among the brides you’ve brought.”

“I… suppose so,” she hedged. “But how would I live? What would I do?”

“Well, you’d marry, of course,” he said.

“But what if I’m like you and I don’t wish to marry yet. Maybe I don’t want to marry at all.”

He laughed. “You sound as if it frightens you.”

“It does no such thing! I could marry anyone I want, when I want.”

“Oh really?”

“Don’t say any more about it,” she snapped. “How did we get on this subject anyway?”

“I brought it up, and I’m sorry if it offends you or makes you uncomfortable. I was just throwing out some ideas.”

She stared at him a moment. “I suppose I could live in a town like this, so long as I had friends and plenty to do. But I like matchmaking. How would I do that here?”

He drew a little closer. “Oh, I’m sure you’d manage just fine, Val.”