Gold Rush Bride

“A card game?”

“Only white man allowed to—”

“Don’t tell me…to run that kind of business, here in Tinderbox.”

The fusion of rage and frustration on Mei Li’s young face was answer enough. “Game okay, as along as Landerfelt win. But he lose big to man from Hangtown. More coin than I ever see. Crockett pay back so Papa no lose job or house.”

“You mean to tell me that Eldridge Landerfelt would have—? Why the bloody—”

“Yes. Him very bloody. Very bad.”

Kate scrambled to her feet and peered out the small, glassless window toward town. Will and Matt were unloading the supply wagon right there in the muddy street. Miners crowded around them, shouting out offers.

It amazed her that men were willing to pay the hugely inflated prices even a fair man like her father had had to charge to cover his transportation costs. She hadn’t been inside Landerfelt’s Mercantile, though she suspected his prices were even more outrageous. She’d seen no customers in the place since she’d arrived yesterday.

Until that very moment. How strange…

Will Crockett plucked something from amidst the shards of broken storefront glass and ducked inside Landerfelt’s. Kate waited, and in less than a minute he came out again, pocketing whatever it was he’d evidently purchased.

She eyed him, wondering exactly how much he would make in this last-minute sale of her father’s goods, and if he’d keep his word and leave her with enough money to tide her over until another load could be hauled from Sutter’s Fort. She also wondered whether the driver would keep his word about extending her credit.

Mei Li crowded in beside her at the window for a look. “Him good man.”

None of the men Kate had known in Dublin, save her own brothers, would have exhausted their life savings to insure the livelihood of an immigrant laborer and his family. “You’re right. Crockett is a good man.”

“Oh. Him, too.”

Him, too? She realized Mei Li’s wide eyes weren’t focused on Will Crockett at all. The girl was wholly captivated by his rough-looking, tawny-haired friend. “You mean Mr. Robinson, don’t you?”

A tiny smile bloomed on Mei Li’s lips.

Good Lord! Kate snapped the buckskin drape back into place over the window. “They’re nearly done with the load, and our hour’s almost up.” They might as well—how had Crockett put it? Get it over with.

“You not ready. Dress all wrong. I fix.”

“I’m fine, Mei Li. I told you, it’s not a real wedding, just a wee business arrangement so I might keep the store long enough to raise some money.”

Mei Li shook her head and uttered a few more choice words in Chinese. “Might as well go, then, if you no care how you look.” She parted the canvas flaps of the shanty’s entrance, and they stepped into the sun.

Even if, heaven forbid, it were to be a real wedding, there wasn’t a man of God to be found for a hundred miles in any direction. A thousand for all Kate knew. Landerfelt had been right about that. She hadn’t seen a proper priest since she’d left Ireland six months ago.

And it was that very fact which, in the end, justified her decision to undertake such a blasphemous act. Vickery’s legal proceeding was one thing. But were they married in the church, well, now that was something else altogether.

She would never have considered the idea if there had been the remotest possibly of that happening. Her place in heaven was safe, she hoped, as long as she went to confession as soon as she got home, and if she started on those rosaries tonight.

As they picked their way up the street, avoiding mud holes and horse droppings, Kate felt a bittersweet sort of emptiness inside. Her whole life had been devoted to caring for her father and brothers. She’d promised herself that when the boys were grown she’d make a life for herself. Her own life. She’d find a good man to marry. One who respected and loved her.

Kate followed the wagon ruts up the street, past a stream of miners heading out of town to their claims, bearing the goods her soon-to-be husband had sold them, and considered that this was not exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d made that promise to herself so very long ago.

By the time she and Mei Li reached the middle of town, it was apparent word had spread of what was about to take place. Given the lack of women, Kate suspected there were few weddings in Tinderbox. Perhaps hers was the first.

The blacksmith stepped out of the livery, and Landerfelt’s cronies out of his store. Every tradesman in town, along with more miners than she could count, gathered in the small meadow below the graveyard on the far side of town.

Will Crockett paced the wet, uneven ground, his fur hat crushed in his hands. “Took long enough,” he said as she and Mei Li approached.

“I’m ready if you are.” She glanced at the faces in the crowd, which closed a circle around them, but she didn’t see Mr. Vickery. She hadn’t seen him all day, in fact. He’d been up early that morning, long before her.

Matt Robinson appeared and, to Kate’s astonishment, thrust a hastily gathered bouquet into her hands. Mei Li grinned. Crockett scowled. They weren’t flowers, exactly. It was full-on autumn. November. And the chill in the air told her snow wasn’t very far off.

“All right, let’s do it.” Crockett squinted in the direction of Vickery’s cottage. “Where’s that lawyer?”

Kate arched a brow, silently reiterating his question.

Matt shot them both a sheepish glance and shrugged. “He’s gone. Landerfelt hornswoggled him into doin’ some business for him in Hangtown.”

The look on Crockett’s face echoed Kate’s sentiments exactly: anger mixed with a goodly dose of relief.

“But I found a ringer in the bunch who’ll do a far sight better than Vickery.” Matt stepped aside to let a young, portly miner into the circle.

Kate didn’t recognize him, nor did any of the local tradesmen, given their narrowed gazes. The man was obviously new to not only the town, but the goldfields. His clothes were new and far too clean, and his skin too white for him to have been here long. He shot a few furtive glances at the crowd, then nodded to her and Crockett.

“Who the hell is this?” Crockett said.

“You’ll see.” Matt grinned. “Go on, Father. Start ’er up.”

Father?

The portly miner fixed his gaze on her, pulled a small, well-worn missal out of his breast pocket and made the sign of the cross.

“Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. For the second time that day the ground slipped out from under her. Will Crockett’s big hand shot out to steady her on her feet.

In perfect Latin, tinged with an Irish accent, the priest began, “In nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti. Amen.”

Kate dropped her bouquet.

The ceremony lasted a few minutes. Or an hour. She wasn’t sure which. She was vaguely aware of repeating the vows the priest read aloud from the missal.

“No ring?” Matt looked to Crockett, and the frontiersman shot him as black a look as Kate had ever seen.

“No,” Crockett said.”

That’s all right,” the priest said. “It isn’t strictly necessary.”

“Fine.” Will let go of her. It dawned on her that he’d been holding her arm this whole time. “That’s it then? We’re married?”

“Aye.” The priest risked a smile. “You may kiss the bride.”

Kate’s eyes widened at the very thought. Surely Crockett wouldn’t dream of—