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A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1) Page 5
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Clara would have said the same thing if she’d been an only child, but she had brothers aplenty. They never failed to rub any of their sisters' mistakes in their faces. "I guess we'll see."
Olivia discreetly left, allowing Clara a moment to freshen up before descending to the parlor. With each step she took, the nerves in her belly churned so by the time she walked into the room, she couldn't hold back her apology. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you. You were right that I shouldn't go into town alone. It was stupid and irresponsible, and I'm sorry," she rushed out and closed her eyes in relief. He could rub it in her face if he wanted to, but her conscious was clear.
When her eyes fluttered opened, he rocked back on his heels. "Feel better?"
A smile twitched at her lips before she grinned. "Much. I hate being wrong, but when I am, I like to get the apology out of the way fast."
He nodded once. "I wanted to talk to you about a guard for the house."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? You aren't going to say I told you so? Taunt me even a little?"
"When you just apologized so nicely?"
"You aren't that kind, are you? My brothers would've tormented me for days."
He muffled a laugh. "Brothers tend to do that."
"Do you have any? Brothers," she clarified. Suddenly needing to know more about him.
He nodded. "One. He doesn't live far from here, in fact. No more than five miles."
She swallowed hard. "It must be nice to have family close by. I miss mine."
"How many siblings do you have?"
"Eleven." His reaction brought a slow smile to her face. "Yes. A big family. I'm the oldest, and it was hard to leave."
"Why did you?"
She shrugged, trying to hide how much it still hurt. "I had to. Not enough food to go around."
He nodded grimly. "I understand. Clara, about yesterday—"
"I know it was foolish," she rushed out to say. "I see that."
"Why did you do it? I warned you it was dangerous."
She shuffled her feet before answering. "It's my responsibility."
"To do what?" His brows wrinkled in confusion, and Clara couldn't blame him. It was difficult for her to explain.
"I told the women that I’d help them, that I would do everything in my power to get them through this. If I have to sleep on the floor or take a risk by going into town, then so be it."
Frustration tinged her cheeks. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but he didn't have to look at her like she'd lost her mind.
She glared at him. "I don't expect you to understand."
He whistled. "I don't. I see that you want to protect them. I can see it's your nature, and after taking care of eleven siblings, even understandable. But you have to see that endangering your life isn't the right way to go about it."
She crossed her arms. "And I think it's none of your concern what I choose to do or why I choose to do it. I appreciate your assistance in the saloon earlier, and I can promise to try and be more careful in the future, but I will always do what I think is right."
"Even if it puts yourself at risk?"
"Even then."
He silently stared her down, but she wouldn't cower. He might as well learn that now. Once Clara decided something, she did it. And right now, she was determined to help those women. "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Sheriff Morrison?"
He turned his head and mumbled something she knew wasn't complimentary, but refused to ask him to repeat his answer.
"Yes," he finally said. "I wanted to come by after what happened and talk to you about extra precautions."
"I told you—"
"Not just for yourself, but for all the women. I originally thought you'd be safe out here alone, but after what happened, I'm not so confident anymore."
Her belly fluttered. She couldn't argue with him. "What do you suggest?"
"I think you should have a guard posted here at the house. Someone that could watch out for you and keep away amorous suitors unless specifically invited. They’d sleep in the barn or somewhere else where you’d hardly notice them."
It made sense. She would feel a lot more secure if there were someone looking out for them, but how could they trust someone they didn’t know. "How would we pay this person? Surely they wouldn't do it for free."
His chin notched up. "I intend on doing it myself, and I consider it part of my job. In fact, I slept in the yard last night just to make sure you all stayed safe. My salary is payment enough."
Shock laced through her. He’d slept in the yard all night? She didn’t want to even contemplate why that made her heart race. "Why would you do that? Don't you have other things to do?" Her stomach fluttered again, but it wasn't from fear. She was afraid it was excitement.
What kind of person would she be if she let her infatuation for the sheriff, an exceptional, marriageable man, keep her from doing all that she could for the other women? A relationship with him would distract her.
He chuckled, his whole body loosening with the movement. "I have a feeling most of the men in town will only get into trouble over the women here. At least in the mean time. Mining, gambling, and drinking, let alone street fighting, have become old to them. You women are what's new and exciting."
As his gaze traveled over her, heat sprung to her cheeks. It was as if he was saying he found her exciting. But he couldn't possibly after what had happened in town, could he?
But for the moment, she relished the thought. What would it be like to have a man like him looking out for her? Wanting her? Needing her?
She shivered. The pleasure she derived from such thoughts overwhelmed her.
She knew that being wanted by Sawyer Morrison would be an experience unlike any other.
Chapter 7
"Remember, the men are here by our invitation," Clara said, gazing at the group of women she slowly was getting to know. Aria, Willow, Rosalie, and Olivia seemed excited about the prospect of entertaining a large group of men, while Juliette and Sadie seemed concerned, maybe even a little overwhelmed. Violet was, well, Violet. "If anyone gets out of hand, let me know, and we'll have them escorted out."
When no one had any other questions, she nodded once. "Well, then, let's not keep our guests waiting. Do you all have your baskets?"
The picnic auction was a brilliant fundraising idea. Since they'd been unable to secure a worker for the mine, they were in need of cash. And what better way to raise money than to do it while fulfilling their end of the bargain?
"Shouldn't we wait for the sheriff?" Sadie asked.
Clara glanced out the window at the bustling crowd. "I don't think we can. If we wait any longer, the men might decide to take matters into their own hands and break down the door."
Sadie's eyes rounded. "You don't think they will, do you?"
"No." Clara scolded herself once she saw Sadie's unease. "They wouldn't do that. They're here to win us over. They have to know it would never work. Besides, the sheriff is looking out for us. The men know that if they did anything untoward, he would make them pay. Regardless of whether he's here or not."
Her words appeased Sadie.
As the women exited the house through the back door, applause and excited whistles filled the air. Isabelle and Aria chuckled at the unrefined display while Violet's lip curled.
Heavens. If they made it through the picnic auction without Violet offending anyone, she'd call it a success.
In an array of different colored gowns, they lined up on the grass in front of the back porch. Thanks to Ivan, he’d provided enough money so that all of the women had new dresses for the wedding. And while they wouldn’t be marrying Ivan in them, they were possibly meeting their future husbands in the fancy clothing he’d provided.
Clara stepped forward. "Thank you all for coming today." Another round of boisterous hollers rang her ears. She had to wait a full minute for the noise to die down. The crowd was even larger than she'd anticipated. "As you know, we came here to marry Ivan, but wi
th his passing, we've been left in a rather difficult position. Without a means of fully supporting ourselves, we came up with this idea to not only raise funds, but to start the courting process as fairly as possible. Each woman, including myself, have a picnic basket that we packed to share with one companion."
A large man with a freshly shaved jaw and kind smile stepped forward. "How will the companions be decided?"
Clara was just about to explain that before the man's interruption, but she wouldn't scold him. He looked too nice for her to do such a thing. "Thank you for asking. Each basket will be auctioned off, and whoever purchases the basket will also win the company of the woman it belongs to. The winners will have exclusive time to get to know the women without interruption. Any questions?"
"Yes, ma'am." A man stepped forward, his manners and appearance like that of a gentleman back east. "How long will the exclusive time last?"
"Thirty minutes at least. Unless the man behaves improperly. The time will immediately be cut off then."
The crowd went quiet as they absorbed that heavy bit of information. She was suddenly grateful to the man for asking. "Any other questions?" She glanced around, but no one spoke. "Excellent. Then we'll start with the first basket." She looked toward the women, noting nerves, and decided to have Aria go first as she looked the most at ease. "Aria, please step forward."
Dimples winked in Aria's cheeks as she grinned at the crowd. "I think you'll like what I packed," she said with a wink.
Chuckles floated in the air.
Clara couldn't have been more pleased with the interest in the men's eyes. While there was strong prejudice against the Irish, she was happy that the men here didn't seem to mind Aria’s heritage. "Let's start the bidding at a dime. Do I have a dime?"
A man quickly raised his hand.
"How about a quarter?" she asked, nodding at another man after he bid. "Fifty cents?"
"A dollar!" one of the men yelled, drowning her out.
"Dollar fifty," another called.
"Two dollars."
"Four!"
Clara reeled as the numbers climbed higher without her assistance. These men were even more aggressive—and rich—than she'd first realized. Wondering how Aria was taking it, she glanced over at her. Her mouth hung open, astounded by the interest in her.
To go from zero interest from men back home to this must be a shock.
As the bidding died down, Clara gathered her wits. "The bidding is at ten dollars. Do I hear ten-fifty? No? Ten dollars going once. Ten dollars going twice. Sold to the man in the black hat."
Men pounded the winner on the back in congratulations. The joviality was high since there were so many more baskets left, but Clara wondered if the friendliness would continue as the number of women dwindled. There had to be at least thirty men.
"Next up is Olivia." The blonde smiled shyly at the crowd. "Let's start the bidding at one dollar this time."
Each and every basket was auctioned off at well over what any of them had hoped for. And Clara was also relieved to note that each of the winners looked like gentlemen. At the high prices the baskets were going for, it was no wonder that the unkempt, rougher men couldn't afford one.
"And finally, we're left with my basket."
"The basket we've all been waiting for," the kind man in front said with a wink. The rest of the men called out encouragements.
Clara's cheeks pinked to the exact shade of her gown. She'd had her fair share of suitors, but none had seemed as serious in their pursuits as the men here today. "Why don't we start it off at the same amount as the others? Who'll bid one dollar?"
When the bidding rose to obscene amounts, finally ending at thirty-two dollars and fifty cents, she smiled at the disappointed crowd. "There's no need to be upset, gentlemen. Please stay and help yourselves to the refreshments laid out on the table over there. Once each couple has finished their lunches, there'll be plenty of time to mingle with all of the ladies.
The nice man up front who'd complimented her was the highest bidder, and Clara was pleased with how it all had turned out. "Your name, sir?"
He took off his hat and introduced himself. "Teddy Wallace, ma'am."
"Congratulations, Teddy." She smiled. "If you'll follow me to—"
"What the hell is going on here?"
Clara spun to find an angry Sawyer glaring at her. "Sawy—I mean sheriff, is there something I can do for you?"
As he stalked closer, his glare at Teddy forced the man a step away from her.
The nerve! Sawyer had no right to interfere here.
"You can start by telling me what on earth is going on. Why are all these men here, and what could possibly be going through that thick skull of yours to allow this to happen? Especially when I'm not here?"
Clara's smile tightened on her face. "Will you excuse us for a moment, Teddy?"
The man glanced between the sheriff and her. "No problem. I'll be waiting by that tree over there." He nodded off to his right, but she didn't look.
Sawyer gripped her arm and steered her away from the crowd. When they were around the side of the house and away from prying eyes, she ripped her arm out of his hold. "Don't you dare ever pull me aside again like some recalcitrant child, Sawyer. Next time, I won't be so accommodating."
His mouth fell open before snapping it closed. "You're upset with me? Woman, have you no sense at all? Do you not remember what happened in the saloon?"
"Of course I do! And this is nothing like that situation. In fact, I'm forced to do this because I was unable to find someone to work in the mine."
His jaw clenched, and she was happy her words hit their mark.
"I'll assume since you didn't inform me of this gathering that you knew I wouldn't approve." He saw her guilty flush. "And you were absolutely right. I don't. There are far too many men here with only me for protection. I'm breaking this up immediately."
She gasped, reaching out to grip his arm. "I did tell you. I told you we were having a picnic today."
“You purposefully left out the part where men were invited.”
“You can’t send them home.”
He took a step forward. "Yes. I can."
She shook her head wildly. Why was he behaving this way? There might be a lot of men here, but Clara was pretty sure if one behaved inappropriately, the others would bring the offender back in line. "We've already taken their money. How do you expect us to provide for ourselves if you won't allow us to do what we need to?"
He glanced at the couples picnicking around the perimeter of the group before locking eyes with her. "Once the couples have finished lunch, this is done. I want all of the women back in the house, secured while I make sure everything is safe. There are too many men here. Men I don’t trust. I can’t keep you safe in a crowd this large.
It almost killed Clara not to argue. She smiled tightly, hoping it would be enough to stop her from causing a scene. He might be in charge, but if Clara had learned anything from her family growing up, it was that there were other ways to get what she wanted.
Sawyer had no idea who he was dealing with.
Sawyer watched Clara as she chatted prettily with Teddy under a willow tree, and fought the urge to go over and toss the man aside.
What on earth had gotten into him? How he’d behaved with Clara—again—was inexcusable. His only blessing was that his brother was purchasing new heads of cattle in Texas and wasn’t there to mock him for his loss of control.
He glanced heavenward. Where was his easy-going nature now?
While he’d been a brute about it, he'd set out rules so Clara would be safe.
The women, he corrected. He’d done it so the women would be safe.
Not just Clara.
But he hadn't given a second glance to the other couples picnicking. In fact, it didn't bother him that they were sprinkled about, laughing and getting to know one another on this warm, spring day.
Was he… jealous?
Had he overreacted about the picnic b
ecause he couldn't stand the thought of Clara being with anyone but him? He gulped, accepting the truth. He thought he could stay away from her. That he could be objective. He obviously couldn't.
Teddy wasn't a bad man. In fact, he was a good match for any of the women. He was gentle, kind. And wealthy.
While he looked like any other man in a suit, Teddy had a profitable mine that had paid big throughout the years. His homestead was large, and his house massive.
And this was his opportunity.
Each and every man here wanted a woman. A wife. And they'd all fight to have one.
Sawyer might have a reprieve once the picnic was done, but he'd have to figure out some way to handle his emotions. Clara would marry. And he could never be her groom.
Not if he wanted to continue being sheriff in this town. If the men thought he’d stolen one of the women out from under them when he was supposed to be protecting them, the town would riot.
His body jerked when Teddy stood and helped Clara to her feet. Her smile was like a thousand candles in a dark room. Her warmth filled places in his soul that had long since gone dark.
Once again, the crowd gathered around her when she moved toward the house. "Thank you all for your patience. I think this activity has gone very well."
Whistles sounded the men's agreement.
She held up her hands. "Now, there's been a slight change of plans."
The group went silent, a few men glanced uneasily at Sawyer as he hovered to the side. It wouldn't have escaped their notice that he hadn't been there earlier. They had to wonder what changes he'd made.
Clara glanced to him. "Sheriff Morrison has been kind enough to point out some safety issues from this activity. Because of that, we've decided to finish the outside portion of today's events and—" she had to talk louder over their disappointments "—and move the rest of the activity indoors. We'll be cramped, but we should all be able to manage to mingle throughout the first floor." She smiled ruefully. "Even if some of us end up in the kitchen."
She glanced over at Sawyer and it took all of his will power not to laugh.
The minx. She might be following his orders to get the women in the house, but she knew this was not what he'd meant.