A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1) Page 2

  Belle nodded her agreement, moving to stand beside her. "I traded several letters with Ivan before I felt comfortable traveling all this way. I don't like the idea of jumping into anything permanent with someone I don't feel is a good match."

  "Now, hold on, ladies." The mayor quickly held up his hands again before the women unraveled. "I'm not asking you to march up to the church with a groom today. In fact, I'm hoping for the opposite."

  Intrigued, Clara couldn't stay silent. "What do you mean?"

  "What I mean is, if you nine women are willing to stay in Promise Creek, the men of this town would like to fulfill one of Ivan's promises." The women were silent for once. "We've decided that if you all agree to stay, Ivan's house and his mine will legally be turned over to you."

  Belle gasped, but Clara waited for the catch. No one gave anything away without expecting something in return.

  The vicious brunette who tried to claw her eyes out earlier had obviously come to the same conclusion when she asked, "And why would the town be willing to give us such a valuable gift?"

  "Well, you're new so I'm sure you haven't noticed, but we're short on women. You've come here to be mail-order brides, and it's our hope that you'll stay, live in Ivan's extensive house, work the mine or hire workers, and allow our men to court you."

  Several of the women clapped and cheered.

  "That is most generous of you, Mayor Bracken." Clara nodded her thanks. "Would you allow us a few moments to discuss your offer?"

  "Of course. But I would like to stress that it's an all or nothing deal. If one of you decides to return home, the other eight don't get the house or mine. Other arrangements will of course be made to make sure you all get home safely, or you may choose to enter a union immediately."

  Clara swallowed hard, but nodded. They all had to agree. This group of nine, emotional women, had to come to a consensus in the next five minutes.

  Lord, help her.

  Sheriff Morrison gestured for the mayor to head out of the building. "Let's give them some privacy while they discuss their options.

  When the men headed out, the noise level increased as each woman spoke louder, hoping their words would be heard.

  "I say we stay."

  "This is our chance."

  "What if none of the men are to our liking?"

  "I don't like this. Something seems off."

  Clara held up her hands for silence.

  When eight sets of eyes locked onto hers, she lowered her hands. "I know this is a lot to take in. We were expecting one thing, handed another, and now we've been given this option. I'm here because I had no other choice. It was either take a mail-order bride position or go work in a factory. I chose the former. I didn't envision this for my life, and I'm guessing none of you did either."

  She waited until each woman nodded.

  "Now, we have a big decision to make. It's all or nothing. We can all stay and live in Ivan's house. You heard the mayor. It's huge. Ivan told me in his letters that while his mine hasn't paid out, it was sure to soon. Almost all other claims in the area have struck big. That tells me two things. One, there's a possibility we could strike it rich. And two, the men in this town have already done so. They're rich. Miners who are now millionaires. That sounds like a good starting off point for the future."

  When the other women nodded, she grinned. "My vote is to stay here and take my chances. This is a better arrangement than what I came for. We will be provided for, have a nice home, and we will be able to get to know gentlemen before we agree to marry them. We are needed here. We hold all the cards. I can't see a better situation for me. What about you?"

  Most of the women agreed, but the dark-haired woman stood stubbornly to the side, her blue-glass eyes mutinous.

  "What's your name?" Clara asked her.

  "Violet Morgan."

  Clara lifted her chin, but spoke kindly. Violet was not going to intimidate her. "Is there something you'd like to add, Violet?"

  Her face expressionless, she looked over the group of women as if sizing them up. "You're all here to marry. But so am I. What if there aren't enough desirable men in town like they say? What if we're left competing with one another over one or two men? Or, what happens if one of us decides to leave after a week?"

  Clara understood Violet’s concern, but wished the woman wouldn’t speak so harshly to the group. They weren't enemies. "Those are good questions. And we'll need to get answers before we decide on anything. But we aren't competing with one another. I'm sure if we sat down and talked for a longer period, we'd see that we're interested in very different types of men."

  Violet sneered. "I think we can safely assume we're all interested in wealthy men."

  The group turned miraculous shades of red.

  Clara hated seeing the looks of embarrassment and shame. "That's nothing to be ashamed of," Clara soothed. "Many of us come from common backgrounds it seems. I see nothing wrong with hoping for an easier life."

  Violet didn't apologize, but her shoulders lowered as if she regretted her words.

  Once everyone settled down again, Clara said, "I don't want to pressure anyone into anything you don't want to do. But there are huge benefits to staying. Raise your hand if you would be willing to remain here, in Ivan's house, and take your chances with the mine and the men in town."

  Clara raised her hand with another six of the women. After a moment, a freckled red-head, her body reed thin under an unfortunate gray dress raised her hand. That only left Violet.

  A few women glared at her.

  "We can't do this without you," Clara whispered.

  "I'm not good at this whole group thing."

  Belle rolled her eyes. "No kidding."

  Violet stiffened at the remark. "I don't know if this is what's best for me."

  "What other options do you have?" Belle asked. "If they were any good, you wouldn't be here, would you?"

  Violet's lips tightened, but not before her lip trembled.

  Clara felt bad for Violet, but the woman had a sharp temperament. If they ended up living together, Clara knew they'd have their hands full keeping the fighting to a minimum.

  "All right. I'll stay."

  The group sighed in relief, and Clara closed her eyes in gratitude. "Thank you." Turning her attention to everyone else she said, "I want you to know that we're in this together. I want you all to be happy. I'll do everything in my power to see you all happily married if it's the last thing I do. We're sisters now. From here on out, we're family. And I take care of my family."

  "Here, here!" Belle cheered.

  The group broke out in squeals over their good fortune, ecstatic at the turn of events. Everyone but Violet, of course.

  Clara’s lips curved into a tentative smile. "I guess all we have to do is tell the mayor we agree."

  While Clara wanted to celebrate with the others, her eyes kept trailing back to Violet. It wouldn't be all wishes and rainbows with that one around.

  Chapter 3

  From the moment the women agreed to stay, Sawyer smelled trouble. Not that he didn't appreciate what they were doing. A lot of men would be happy with the situation, and it would bring even more respectability to their town as couples married and had families.

  Their town needed that sort of stability. Promise Creek wouldn't stay a mining town forever.

  Sawyer lightly flicked the lines as he maneuvered a wagon full of women down the road. Mayor Bracken and he had agreed that it’d be best to install the women in Ivan's house before announcing their presence to the town.

  Smartest thing they could've done. Sawyer didn't relish the mess they'd have on their hands when word got out about the women.

  Sawyer inhaled Clara’s scent a moment before she moved up from the back of the wagon to speak with him. "How far is Ivan's ranch, Sheriff?"

  Sawyer closed his eyes against his body’s reaction to her voice. From the moment she'd walked into the hotel's lobby, his body went on alert. He was more aware of her than he'd e
ver been of any woman. He could almost smell the rose soap on her skin when she’d been across the room, practically taste the cherry softness of her plush lips or feel the sun's warmth in her glossy mahogany hair, just by glancing at her.

  He didn't look at her now. Instead, he gave extra attention to the horses. The last thing he wanted to do was make a fool of himself. The women would view such spectacles in the future, but he refused to turn himself into some slobbering idiot.

  Oh, he'd been fine just being the town’s unattached sheriff. Hadn't given a second thought to courting women in the next town or ordering a mail-order bride of his own.

  At least not until he'd set eyes on one intended for Ivan.

  Now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

  He cleared his throat. "The house is located twenty-minutes outside town."

  "So far?"

  He turned in time to catch the adorable frown on her face. "Far? His house is one of the closer ones. There are ranchers who live several hours away."

  She flushed beet red, and it took all his will power not to smile at the sight.

  "Pardon. I'm from New York. Most things are located within a few miles. I had no idea towns were this spread out in the West." She gazed out at the wildflower covered hills.

  The earth's natural carpet still took his breath away after all this time. He and his brother had grown up on the streets of New York after their parents’ murders. The filth they used to search through for scraps to eat, the hovel they slept in, rarely came back to him. They'd been lucky to make it out alive.

  And now look at him.

  He dragged in a deeply scented breath, the pure air charging him—

  A gun shot rang from behind them.

  A few of the girls screamed as the wagon lunged forward.

  He swore, pulling the lines, struggling to keep the animals under control. Hooves thundered down the road behind them, several sets, and Sawyer knew he only had a moment to bring the wagon to a stop.

  "Yeehaw! What'd I tell ya, Simon? I told ya I'd heard there was women!"

  The three loathsome miners who approached were the last people Sawyer hoped to see. They were more drunks and town troublemakers than miners after their claims ran dry. Their main purpose, as far as Sawyer could tell, was to cause problems for the people who'd struck it rich.

  "You were right, Horace. Never thought old Jimmy might be tellin' the truth. But woo-ee—" he whistled through his teeth as he eyed Clara "—was he not lyin'. That one there is mine," he said, claiming her as his own.

  Over my dead body.

  Sawyer was ready to rip Simon's eyes from his head, but the horses shied, and he gave his full focus to them. Maiming the men would have to wait. "Whoa. Steady. Easy now." With a final snort, one horse settled down, calming the rest. "Good. That's good."

  When Sawyer was sure the wagon was safe from spooked horses, he casually turned toward the men. Coming on too aggressive would only provoke them. "I don't know what you heard, but these women aren't up for grabs."

  "Whatcha mean?" Simon scratched his butt in the saddle. "These aren't them mail-order brides Crazy Ivan went and bought?"

  Banshee sneered. "No one bought me. No one ever will."

  Sawyer lifted his face toward the sky. Save me, he pleaded before turning his attention back on the men who looked like they’d swallowed lemons. "Listen, fellas.” He turned on whatever charm he could muster. “This will all be sorted out soon. Mayor Bracken set a meeting tonight at the church to explain everything. Until then, you need to return to town, and let me do my job."

  Horace spit. "I think you should do some explainin' now, Sheriff."

  When Simon eyed Clara again, Sawyers fingers twitched near his colt. "I told you as much as you need to know. Now, I'm not going to ask again. Head back to town."

  Simon's eyes slid between his cohorts before he went for his gun.

  The women gasped when Sawyer had his gun out and pointed at Simon's heart before the bedraggled miner cleared his weapon.

  The three held up their hands.

  Horace shook his head. "No need for that, Sawyer. We'll wait to hear what the mayor has to say. Isn't that right, Simon?" He looked at his companion, but the man only glared.

  Sawyer didn't move. His gun never wavered as he stared at the man's eyes, waiting. Watching. Looking for a flicker in the deadened depths.

  The man was bad news. When Simon's mine hadn't paid out, he'd drowned his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. He'd never crawled out.

  Simon sneered, finally relaxing his hands away from his gun. "Sure thing, Horace. Let's see what Mayor Do-Gooder has to say about this." His eyes narrowed on Sawyer. "Just keep your paws off the merchandise, Morrison."

  Banshee rose from the wagon. "Why you—"

  Fortunately, Clara reached out to Banshee before she could do anything else.

  The three men rode away, but not before Simon raked another lurid glance over Clara.

  Anger boiled Sawyer’s blood, but he swallowed it, holstering his gun with sharp control. "Are you all okay?

  The women nodded except Banshee. She pressed her lips together before looking away.

  "We'll all be fine," Clara whispered. "Let's just get to the house."

  Sawyer nodded. They would be fine because he’d be leaving them his shotgun.

  He couldn't get them safely locked behind doors soon enough to please him.

  When the men rode away, Clara held her body ramrod straight, her chin lifted high. It was the only way she knew how to deal with the terror choking her.

  Even now, after such a short amount of time, the group of women looked to her for how to react. And she wouldn't let them down.

  She sat calmly, her hands folded in her lap. If her knuckles were a little whiter than normal, she hoped no one else noticed. She needed to look composed, carefree. Even if she was screaming inside.

  "Can we really do this?" Belle whispered to her. "You saw those men back there. What if they're all like that?"

  "They're not." Clara looked off in the distance, breathing deeply of the flowered hills. "The sheriff and mayor appear to be gentlemen. I assume that's what most of the men are like."

  "And if they're not?"

  "Then we'll figure out how to handle it."

  Clara meant exactly what she said. They would stay as long as it was the right thing for them. No one would force any of them into anything they didn't want to do. They weren't slaves. And they certainly hadn't been bought no matter what the men had said.

  When they rounded a bend in the road, a towering two-story structure came into view. The wrap around porch held a swing suspended from the ceiling, and pots overflowed with a kaleidoscope of color. The pitched roofline gave it a whimsical appearance, and the large, paned windows sparkled.

  Sheriff Morrison slowed the horses. "This is it. Ivan's house—your house now."

  One of the girls squealed.

  Clara couldn't blame her. Her mouth gaped open at the sheer size of the wooden structure. "This is ours?" She glanced at the handsome man who'd taken the time to escort them.

  "Yes. We're you expecting something else?"

  "Honestly? Smaller." The mayor had called it extensive, but that word varied in definition. She was sure there were grander houses, but this structure wasn’t anything to sneeze at.

  He grinned. "I hope it doesn't disappoint." He leaped to the ground and rounded the wagon before holding up his arms to help her down.

  "Of course not." She placed her hands on his shoulders without thinking, but the minute her fingers felt the muscles beneath his shirt, her body jerked with awareness. She could feel the heat of his skin, the cords of rippling muscle, and that power shot a thrill through her.

  His hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her down quickly, releasing her a little too abruptly before moving on to help the next woman.

  "Thank you," she said, but further words caught in her throat.

  What was wrong with her? She'd been assisted from vehicle
s her entire life, but never had such a touch unnerved her.

  And he wasn't even affected by it! He'd just gone on and helped Belle down without hesitation. This was not the way she wanted to start off her time in Promise Creek. She may have come to marry Ivan, and even if that wasn’t possible now, she still intended on marrying someone. It would do her no good to set her heart on the sheriff so soon. She couldn't think about marrying anyone until she helped the other women. They needed to come first.

  If all else failed, Clara could take care of herself. By the looks of some of the other women, they couldn't say the same thing.

  Sheriff Morrison led them into the house. "It's large, but we haven't gone through the house yet to know if you'll need more supplies or beds. I want you ladies to take a good look around, and let me know if there's something you need. The town will do their best to provide it. As mentioned earlier, the mine belongs to you. However, you'll need to work the claim to make money. Everything Ivan made went into building this house—and apparently ordering brides. Unless you find money hidden somewhere, you'll need to start tapping the mine. The town will, of course, help with necessities for the next few days until you're on your feet."

  One of the blondes stepped closer to the sheriff. "That is very kind of you."

  A frown marred Clara's forehead as the girl sweetly batted long black lashes. A flare of jealousy scorched her before she tamped it down. Getting riled over a man, especially one that wasn't hers, was pointless. They would all have to live together for the foreseeable future, and bickering over men like dogs over a bone would only make things worse.

  But as the woman placed a hand on the sheriff's arm, Clara almost said something she'd regret. Instead, she opted for, "This is more than adequate, Sheriff. Thank you so much for bringing us out here. We'll let you know if there's anything we need."

  He looked around uneasy. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay until you've taken stock?"

  The blonde smiled. "That would be gr—"

  "Absolutely not." Clara forced a smile. "If there is anything pressing, I'll ride into town and inform you."