Regina Scott - Frontier Matchmaker Bride

Catherine eyed her husband. “The Literary Society? How nice that the most influential ladies in Seattle would enlist the aid of a Wallin.”

If Drew was impressed, he didn’t show it. “If they’re so important they ought to be able to take care of the matter themselves,” he grumbled in his deep voice. “You have work here.”

Beth put her hands on her hips. “May I remind you that I took on cooking for the crew, without pay I might add, because you were concerned they couldn’t fend for themselves? They are grown men, Drew. Surely they can make their own way without me for a little while.”

Drew leaned back. “That wasn’t the work I meant, though I am grateful for your help. You have a claim to improve. You’re still living in Simon’s old cabin. You haven’t even built one for yourself yet, and you’ve had the land for nearly two of the five years allowed. If the territorial land office learns you aren’t living on the claim, you could lose it.”

Why did talking with her brothers always make her feel like a child again? “I know the law. I must live on the property six months of the year. I’ll be back after Easter, and we can decide on plans for the cabin then.”

His arms fell. “After Easter? You won’t be here for the celebration?”

He sounded so forlorn that her heart went out to him. “Of course I’ll come home for Easter. You couldn’t keep me away. Rina, Nora, Catherine and I have already been planning. I’m sure they can continue without my input.”

Drew looked as if he would keep arguing, but Catherine nodded. “It won’t be the same without you being here to direct things with your usual energy, but I’m sure we’ll make do. Dottie and Callie can help.”

Drew sighed. “Very well, if no one else has any objections.”

Of course, there were more objections. Her other brothers were nearly as argumentative when they learned of her plans. Drew must have sent his children around with the news, for the rest of her brothers descended on the main cabin shortly after she’d finished serving the logging crew dinner. Harry, Tom and Dickie wisely beat a retreat at the sight of them crowding into the front room. Beth only wished she could get away so easily.

“You’ll be too far from home,” Simon pointed out, long legs eating up the plank flooring as he paced before the stone hearth. “We can’t reach you if there’s trouble.”

“I’ll be staying at the Howards’,” Beth told him. “What sort of trouble do you expect?”

She was sorry she asked, for he stopped to tick off his concerns on his fingers. “Cholera has been reported in the territory. The town is becoming increasingly crowded with men of every sort. That windstorm cut off supplies—another could do so as well, leading to rioting in the streets.”

“Worse,” James intoned, voice like a church bell, “she might come back engaged to a sawmill worker.” He gasped and clutched his chest.

Simon looked daggers at him, but Beth shook her head at his teasing. So did her brother John.

“I’m sure we could deal with that,” he told James. “But Beth, Simon has a point. Here you have all of us for support if you need it. Who will you rely on in Seattle?”

Her middle brother, John, was such a dear, always concerned about the family. Before she could protest that she could take care of herself, Levi, her closest brother in age, spoke up.

“I have similar concerns. You need someone you can count on, Beth.”

Beth threw up her hands. “And you don’t believe Allegra and Clay are reliable? Look at the lives they’ve built—successful, admired.”

Levi had learned something about the tact required in his position of minister, for he made a sad face as if commiserating with her. “Allegra and Clay are good friends, but they aren’t family.”

“Precisely,” Simon said. “Someone should go with her.”

That was all she needed. Immediately they set about arguing who could spare time from their families and work. Beth stamped her foot to get their attention.

“No,” she said. “I don’t need anyone to look out for me. I’m not a child.”

“That,” James said, “is exactly why we’re concerned.”

Oh! Brothers!

“I have a solution,” Levi put in. “There’s someone in town as close as family who’d be glad to help Beth. Scout.”

Her brothers all nodded, stances relaxing, mouths smiling. Even Beth thought she could live with that solution. She’d known Scout Rankin all her life. Only three years her senior, he and Levi had been nearly inseparable growing up. Before James’s wife, Rina, had come to Wallin Landing as the first official schoolteacher, Beth, Levi and Scout had sat for lessons with Ma in the main cabin. The three of them had fished and hunted together, climbed trees together, chased each other through the woods. Only when Levi and Scout had set off to seek their fortunes on the gold fields of the British territories to the north had the trio been parted.

Scout and Levi had had a falling-out along the way, but since their friend’s return to Seattle last month, they had made up. Scout had come back a wealthy man and had purchased a fine house in town. And he had proven himself a good friend.

But while her brothers were certain Scout could keep an eye on Beth, Beth was equally certain she ought to be keeping an eye on Scout. He’d returned to Seattle triumphant, just as he and Levi had always dreamed. But his quiet nature and the wariness learned under his abusive father seemed to be keeping him from accepting the place he’d earned in society.

What he needed was a wife.

She told him as much when they met at the Pastry Emporium two days later, after she’d moved in with the Howards and made arrangements to start the next phase of her plan to find Hart a bride.

She smiled at her old friend sitting across one of the wrought-iron tables from her, looking rather dapper in an olive coat and tan trousers. Scout had never been as tall or muscular as her brothers. His dark hair was longer than currently fashionable, brushing his collar. His narrow face was marred by a crooked nose that had been broken years ago, and his left cheek bore a scar he had received while he’d been away.

“Oh, you needn’t worry,” he said, soft brown gaze dropping to the tabletop. “I doubt anyone will want to marry me.”

Beth nudged his foot with her own, and he glanced up.

“You are a gentleman,” she reminded him.

Scout quirked a smile. “I suppose money will do that for a fellow.”

“Nonsense,” Beth said, applying herself to the cinnamon roll Maddie had placed between them, white sugar icing dripping from the still-warm sides. “You were a gentleman before you left for the gold fields. Money doesn’t change who you are.”

He rubbed a hand on the olive-colored sleeve of his coat, as if uncomfortable with the elegant cut of the wool fabric. “It sure doesn’t.”

This time, Beth’s nudge was sharper, and he looked up, brows raised in obvious surprise.

“You stop that immediately,” she scolded. “You are a fine man, Thomas Rankin. Any lady in Seattle would be blessed to have you.”

Whether it was the use of his formal name or the tone of her voice, she wasn’t sure, but Scout grinned at her. “Well, there’s one lady I’d like to impress, but she’s awfully bossy.”

Beth stuck out her tongue at him.

Scout laughed. “See? You don’t stand for any nonsense from me or your brothers. Never have.”

“Never will,” Beth promised him.

“And that tells me it isn’t anything about me that keeps you from letting me court you. I know which way the wind blows there.”

Like her brothers, Scout had witnessed her earlier infatuation with the deputy.