Two Brides Too Many (30 page)

As soon as Boney finished translating, he patted Rosita on the head. “I’ll miss you, little one.”

Rosita slipped her little hand into her grandmother’s, and the two of them turned to join Tio Ray at the train for the loop through the rest of the Cripple Creek mining district and back to Colorado Springs.

Kat’s knees went weak, and she laid her hand over her heart.

T
HIRTY
-E
IGHT

N
ell and Kat watched Rosita skip toward the train, hand in hand with her grandmother. Nell knew the girl was where she belonged, but it still hurt to see her go.

After the sisters bade their good-byes to Boney, they walked away from the depot in silence and down Bennett Avenue toward Hattie’s. It wasn’t Nell’s own tears and sadness that surprised her, but Kat’s. Of course her sister was fond of the little girl she’d taken in. She’d seen to it that Rosita had clothing, and braided her hair. But if anyone had asked Nell how Kat would react in this moment, she would have answered with quick certainty: her sister would maintain her stoic exterior.

But by the time they reached the corner at Hayden Avenue and stepped off the boardwalk onto the hard-packed dirt, sobs shook Kat’s body. Nell stopped and pulled her into an embrace. She knew she’d miss Rosita, and her heart ached to know what Judson considered to be the future of their relationship, but seeing her sister so sad hurt worst of all. Nell pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and slid it into Kat’s hand.

Kat cried into the handkerchief until her tears finally subsided. Sniffling, she stepped back from Nell, her cheeks blotchy and her eyes red. Her bonnet sat askew atop her head, her auburn hair poking out of it at angles. “You’re all right?” she asked, blotting her face with the hanky.

“Compared to you, I am.” Nell smoothed her sister’s hair back from her face and tugged her hat straight.

“I’m going to miss those shy smiles that we would tease out of Rosita.” Kat sniffled. “And I’ll never forget that focused expression on her face when she tried to put the broom to good use in the cabin.”

“I know. You need purpose, and caring for Rosita and finding her family had given you that.” As Nell took the first step forward, she prayed for wisdom. “Let’s get to Hattie’s. She always makes us feel better.”

Nodding, Kat wiped her face again and took heavy steps up the street, passed by a burro pulling a cart full of groceries.

“You’ll have plenty to keep you busy soon.” As Nell slowed her steps to match Kat’s, she wanted to mention Morgan but decided against it. “You’ll have your writing and your own home to take care of.”

Kat huffed. “A home without a real cookstove. Where we have to use a chamber pot, or traipse out to an outhouse. Where it’s drafty, and we can expect all manner of vermin and creepy-crawly things.”

“The cabin’s not all that bad. You’ve forgotten about the lace curtain and the shotgun.”

A smile played on Kat’s lips. “That shotgun did come in handy, didn’t it?” She laughed. “That wasn’t the behavior of a city girl.”

“No ma’am, it surely wasn’t. Annie Oakley would be proud of you. I know I was.”

Kat’s smile faded, and her eyes clouded over again. “I didn’t even
want to be married. I was doing it to help Father, and to help all of us get settled here.”

“I know.”

“So why did he have to do this to me?”

Nell slid her hand into Kat’s. “Father or Patrick?”

“Morgan Cutshaw.”

Nell bit her lip to stay a flood of words, and nodded instead.

“I was doing fine. And then he had to take us for that carriage ride and bring me that magazine.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Yes, it’s bad. You heard him last night at the cabin.” Kat pulled her wrap tighter against the spring breeze. “He said he told Darla he couldn’t fathom ever being married again.”

“That’s what this is all about?”

“It’s crazy, I know,” Kat said, staring off toward Tenderfoot Hill. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about any man.”

Nell laughed. “It’s about time you acknowledged how you felt.”

“I know.” Kat’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You trusted him. And I thought the worst of him.”

“The man who brought you here deceived and betrayed you. It’s no wonder you’re having trouble trusting again.” As they turned onto Hattie’s street and the yellow house came into view, Nell prayed the woman would have the ability to make them both feel better.

“He not only told Darla he couldn’t fathom being married again, but then repeated it to me as if he wanted to make sure I knew it too.” Kat paused. “I thought I wanted to be alone.”

“You know people say things they don’t mean.” Nell fluttered her hand, watching a sparrow that perched on a feeder that hung off a
cottage porch. “Or they say things and later change their minds.” She was sure the latter applied to Morgan. Whether the doctor knew it or not, she knew he’d fallen for her sister.

Kat wiped her eyes. “At least I have my writing. I can always do that, no matter what happens.”

At the yellow house with the white trim, Nell led Kat up the walkway to the front door and grabbed the knocker.

The door whooshed open, and Nell felt as if her heart had raced right into her throat. The man standing in the doorway had written her twelve wonderful letters. She would’ve spoken his name, but her mouth had gone dry.

“Nell.” His voice sounded like spring, and he had eyes bluer than a jay. “I thought you’d never get here.”

As far as she could tell, he was feeling much better.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, his face widening into a grin.

“Judson, just seeing you is a wonderful surprise. There’s more?”

Nodding, his eyes full of promise, Judson Archer reached for her hand and led her into the parlor. She hardly dared to look down at their joined hands. She was afraid she was imagining the whole thing.

Hattie sat in the wing-back chair, waving a handkerchief, and Morgan smiled at her from behind the piano. Kat went to sit on the sofa while Judson escorted Nell to the Queen Anne chair that sat empty by the window.

“Maestro.” Judson motioned to Morgan. As soon as the first chord sounded, Judson began to sing.

Low to our hearts love sung an old sweet song.

Judson’s tenor voice sounded like the wind whispering through the pines, and Nell thought she might faint. But she willed herself not to allow it, for she intended to remember this moment forever.

She had to be dreaming.

Lord, please let this be real
.

Still to us at twilight comes love’s old song…

It wasn’t a dream. Judson hitched his breeches and bent to one knee. As he knelt in front of her, his voice tender, she felt his warm breath on her face. And tears fell in this, her old sweet song—their song.

When he’d finished the song and the piano stilled, Judson cupped her face. Her skin tingled, alive and warm under his touch. She could live like this forever.

“Judson, I’m so sorry you were robbed and hurt. And I’m sorry I didn’t respect your wishes and barged in on you at the hospital.” Her words were a mere whisper.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. Those weren’t words I ever wanted to speak to you, and certainly not the first ones.”

“I forgive you.” Another whisper. She couldn’t take her eyes off his smile. “You’re, uh, well now?”

“I go back to work tomorrow, but I’ll be doing most of my office work standing up.”

A giggle escaped before Nell could catch it, but she covered her mouth anyway.

“I love that.”

“What?”

“Your laughter. I love your laughter.”

And she loved him.

“Miss Nell Sinclair, I have loved you from the time I read the signature on your first letter. ‘In Gods hands, Miss Nell Sinclair.’ Will you marry me Saturday next?”

“I’ve waited this long.” Nell’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I suppose I can wait another twelve days. Yes, Judson. My answer is yes. Oh, yes.” A grin lit his irresistible face, and Nell bent down and kissed his lips.

Thank You, Lord. He was so worth waiting for
.

Kat sighed, remembering how Morgan’s fingers moved across the piano keys as if God made them to play. God had indeed blessed the man with many gifts—doctoring, music, and a romantic spirit, to name a few.

She hadn’t seen her sister so happy in a long while. Nell’s patience had paid off. And now Kat couldn’t help but hope Nell was right about Morgan too. That he would change his mind about never marrying again.

“That’s one of the songs Dr. Cutshaw will play at my luncheon next Wednesday. You girls simply must come.” Hattie dabbed at her eyes with a pink hanky.

To hear Morgan play again, Kat would go anywhere. She’d be there, front and center.

“And Judson, dear, you must sing it for the Women for the Betterment
of Cripple Creek. They’ll adore you for it.” Hattie rose and strolled over to Morgan and patted his cheek as if he were her own son. “You boys are so gallant. Just like my George. Why, you two could fill an opera house. How I wish we had a proper one here in Cripple Creek. Heard plenty talk about it, but nothing’s come of it yet.”

“Let’s get through next Wednesday’s concert first.” Morgan patted Judson on the back. “And I think that’s a right fine idea, your singing in the program. I could use the moral support.”

“If Nell’s going, I’ll be there with my pipes tuned and ready.” Judson laced his fingers with Nell’s.

Hattie sniffed. “It smells like love is in the air,” she said, although to Kat it smelled more like fresh-baked bread. “Are you all about ready for lunch?”

Morgan held his arm out for Kat. She laid her hand on it, feeling a zing of warmth shoot to her toes and back up into her face. He stood tall and strong, and she suddenly felt grateful for his strength. Perhaps she didn’t need to be quite so independent.

“Are you busy this Saturday?”

Kat glanced at his arm while she considered the question and the possible inference. “Why?”

“I thought if you’re not too busy helping Nell with her wedding plans, we could finally have our outdoor picnic.”

“I’d like that.”

Morgan nodded and escorted her to the dining table.

It wasn’t a marriage proposal. But it was something.

T
HIRTY
-N
INE

Dear Ida,

Nell and I were so excited to receive your letter last Friday.

I can’t believe another week has already passed.

We received a second letter today. Thank you!

Nell and I have had nary a dull moment since we arrived in Cripple Creek.

T
o say the least.

Kat tried to concentrate on her letter, but the anticipation of tomorrow’s picnic with Morgan Cutshaw kept distracting her. She laid her pen down next to her letter and sat back in the chair. Warmth emanated from the potbellied stove, adding to the cabin’s cozy feel. A pot of columbines topped Nell’s trunk under the window. A canning jar full of daises rested on the countertop next to a set of canisters Hattie
had given her. A milk bottle brimmed with posies in the center of the table. All gifts from Judson Archer.

Kat breathed in the earthy scent of fresh flowers.

Her sister had floated out of the dress shop this afternoon, talking about the most beautiful dress in the world. Nell sat in the rocker now, stitching a sampler to hang in her new home. Kat turned back to her letter. Their oldest sister would finish her secretarial schooling in Maine at the end of summer. She planned to arrive in Cripple Creek shortly thereafter. Good news to be sure, especially since Vivian would follow her a few months later, and the four of them would be reunited.

But come next Saturday, one week from tomorrow, Nell would marry Judson and make a home with him.

Leaving Kat alone.

Kat had thought that was what she wanted—that self-sufficiency would be her only remaining option in Colorado. But now that she had gotten to know Morgan Cutshaw better, the idea of being alone seemed a burden rather than a blessing. A lonely reality rather than a noble quest.