Debra Lee Brown - Gold Rush Bride

An image of Kate Dennington’s trim waist and curved hips flashed in his mind. Will allowed himself a rare smile.

“Why the hell not?”

Perhaps he’d get the money for his passage, after all, and give Eldridge Landerfelt what was coming to him.

Shading her eyes against the sunlight, Kate squinted at the charred, muddy evidence of Crockett’s campfire and thanked God the trapper had refused her preposterous offer.

She must have been completely out of her mind last night. A hundred rosaries wouldn’t be enough to purge the sin of even proposing it. She’d remind herself to start on them that evening.

Pulling her still damp shawl tight about her, she picked her way carefully up the ravine separating Vickery’s cottage from the rest of town. She hadn’t meant to oversleep. For hours last night she’d tossed and turned, and when she finally fell asleep, she’d dreamed the most sinful things…. Will Crockett carrying her across the threshold of her father’s store…sharing a slice of wedding cake with him on the porch in back. Then later, his dark eyes searing her as she turned down the sheets of their marriage bed.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” She crossed herself and pushed the images from her mind.

A gust of wind blasted a pile of wet autumn leaves across her path as she turned onto Main Street. The town was bustling with activity, and a dozen pairs of miner’s eyes fixed on her as she strode briskly toward Landerfelt’s Mercantile.

She’d best get used to their stares. It had been no different in San Francisco, and that’s where she was likely to end up. For a time, at least. She’d just have to tough it out. There was no other option. Not now.

She’d sell her father’s storefront and land for whatever Landerfelt would give her. Had her foolish pride not gotten in the way, she would have done so yesterday when he’d made her the offer. She could have bargained with him at least.

Her mother would have been practical and sold. But oh, no, not Kate. She was clearly her father’s daughter. She shook her head at her stupidity, then stopped dead in her tracks as a litany of rapid-fire Chinese diffused by men’s shouts caught her off guard.

She fixed her gaze on the chaotic scene unfolding in front of Landerfelt’s Mercantile and Mining Supply. An overloaded wagon sat in the middle of the muddy street. Mei Li stood precariously atop the pile of supplies and mining equipment, yelling and kicking at two men who tried, unsuccessfully, to unload it out from under her.

Kate pushed her way to the front of the small crowd of miners and other townsfolk gathering to watch the skirmish.

The Chinese girl saw her, and her round face lit up. “Miss Kate, hurry!”

“Mei Li, what on earth—?”

“Wagon here with goods! Landerfelt try steal.” She kicked at one of the men who’d hefted a sack of grain from off the pile. “No let him! Wagon ours.”

Ours? Kate pushed closer. “What do you mean? I didn’t order any—”

“Landerfelt offered me double what Dennington put down by way a deposit.”

Kate frowned at the man who’d spoken: a rough-looking character sporting a long buckskin coat, well-worn gloves and chaps. She recognized him from Sutter’s Fort, where she’d overnighted three days ago. He was the wagon’s driver.

“You mean my father paid money in advance for these goods?”

Mei Li let out a screech.

Kate’s conversation with the driver was forgotten as Mei Li let loose another tirade of what had to be Chinese curses. One of the unloaders, Landerfelt’s man, grabbed her ankle. Mei Li fought to keep her balance as the man pulled her toward him, a malicious grin plastered on his face. The onlookers did nothing to stop him. What kind of men were these?

“You there!” Kate caught the ruffian’s eye, and his grin widened to reveal awful-looking teeth. “Leave her alone! She’s—” The wagon driver grabbed her and jerked her back, nearly off her feet. “Let me go! What do you think you’re—”

A gunshot sounded, and Kate jumped nearly out of her skin. A second later the man who’d grabbed Mei Li’s ankle was flying through the air toward Landerfelt’s store window. “Sweet Jesus!” Kate braced herself for the shattering glass.

The tawny-haired man she’d seen standing in the street with Will Crockett yesterday morn, scrambled atop the wagon and swept Mei Li off her feet. Kate was about to cry out for someone to stop him, but the enthralled look in Mei Li’s eyes as her arms snaked around his neck stilled her tongue.

The wagon driver tightened his grip, and Kate renewed her struggle. “I said let me go, you bloody oaf!” She kicked backward at his shin, and he grunted.

“Take your hands off her or you’re a dead man.”

She knew that voice.

A second later the driver released her. And a moment after that, Will Crockett’s fist connected with his face. A nice, clean blow. Kate winced as the driver went down.

As if such things happened every day, two onlookers dragged his limp body out of the mud and propped him against the windowless storefront of Landerfelt’s Mercantile and Mining Supply.

“Y-you killed him.” She took in Crockett’s steely expression and coal-black eyes.

“Nah. He’s just out cold. He’ll be all right.” Crockett’s gaze fixed on her, and his eyes warmed to brown.

The scandalous dream she’d had about him mere hours ago flooded her mind, unbidden. Her face flushed with heat. “Y-you’re still here.”

“Yeah.” His gaze washed over her, and that same queer feeling she’d had yesterday returned.

“But I thought you were gone to Alaska.”

“I was. I mean I am.” He took off his fur hat and played with it, then crushed it in his hands. “There’s something I need to do first.”

She felt suddenly overwarm, as if she’d just come down with fever. “Like…what, supposin’?”

“Well, I was thinking that—”

Shouts and the sound of hoofbeats cut short their conversation. The crowd scattered like rats in a Dublin flat. What now? Kate glanced down the street to see Eldridge Landerfelt bearing down on them on horseback.

Will stepped out in front of her, taking the brunt of the mud clods kicked up as the merchant jerked his mount to a halt in front of his store and took in the chaotic scene.

“Hell’s bells, what’s goin’ on here?” A second later Landerfelt was off his horse, on his feet, and nose to nose with Crockett.

Kate had the same question, and waited to hear the frontiersman’s answer. She stepped out from behind him, but Crockett didn’t spare her a glance. His gaze was pinned on Landerfelt.

“That shipment,” Crockett said. “It’s mine.”

“Yours?” answered Kate and Landerfelt in unison.

Crockett continued to ignore her. “That’s right. Liam Dennington paid half down on it two weeks ago. I know. I was there when the money changed hands.”

Landerfelt cracked a half smile. “What if he did? Dennington’s dead and buried. He can’t pay the balance, and she sure can’t, neither.” He flashed his eyes at her. “I’m doing her a favor by taking it off her hands.”

He was doing her a favor, Kate realized. She certainly couldn’t afford to pay for the goods, and even if she could she’d just have to turn around and sell them.

“You’d pay me back my father’s deposit, of course.”

“Of course.” Landerfelt’s smile broadened. He pulled a cigar out of his jacket and lit it up, much to Kate’s displeasure.

“Fine,” she said, and waved the smoke away from her face. “I’d also speak with you about the store itself, and the land. I was thinking that—”

“She was thinking she’d like to keep it awhile.” Crockett shot her a loaded look.