Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (44 page)

Allie stared at him. Of course! Mrs. Howard wanted control of her granddaughter, but Gerald, the odious Gerald, cared more about the Howard fortune.

That had to be why he'd persisted in courting her even after her many set downs. The bulk of the fortune was entrusted to Gillian. If Gerald married Allie, he would have been Gillian's guardian. No one would have questioned his right to dip into the trust. When Allie left with Gillian, he'd had to resort to drastic measures to retrieve them.

Reynolds was focused on Clay. “Stupid choice, if you ask me, leaving your money to a child. Only men have the brains to handle money.”

“Particularly when they're dealing cards or rolling dice,” Allie countered, cold all over. “More than one wife has been left destitute by a husband who handled money like that.”

“Mr. Howard's no gambler,” Reynolds said. “He knows how to manage money, even if he has no idea how to handle an uppity female like you. Now it seems your little girl is going back to Boston on the next stage. If you want to be her mother, you'd better get a ticket.”

“You're mean!” Gillian cried.

“Mind your manners,” Reynolds barked, not even bothering to look her way. “I thought your grandmother taught you better.”

“My grandmother is mean, too!” Gillian darted around him and ran for Allie, who hurried forward, holding out her hands.

Reynolds lunged for them, but Clay intercepted him, grabbing him in a bear hug that crushed the walking stick between them. As Allie hugged Gillian close, Clay wrestled Reynolds to one side.

Gillian safe in her arms, Allie backed away from the two struggling men. Clay's muscles were bulging under his suit coat, his face grim.

“Give up,” he told Reynolds through gritted teeth. “You're beat.”

Part of her wanted to run, to take Gillian into the city and disappear somewhere the Howards could never find them. But she knew if she and Clay were going to have a future together, she had to stand her ground and have faith in him.

Just then, Reynolds twisted and turned, grunting as he managed to break free.

“Stay back!” he warned, stumbling away from Clay and raising his walking stick. “I have the law on my side!”

“I doubt that.” Clay kept himself between Reynolds and Allie and Gillian. “You've committed a kidnapping. And even if I overlook that and just consider Gerald's actions, I think the court would have to determine which male relative is closer, a cousin or a brother.”

Allie sucked in a breath. She should have known. Frank would never have left Gillian to Gerald's care. When he'd written his closest male relative, he'd meant Clay!

“Your father disowned you,” Reynolds reminded him.

“But his brother didn't!” Allie cried. “He believed in Clay to the end.”

“A shame he didn't put that in writing,” Reynolds said with an ugly laugh.

“But he did,” Allie insisted. “He wrote me letters from the battlefield. I have them in my trunk. He said if anything happened to him, he knew Clay would take care of us. I was the one who didn't believe him, until now.”

She was never sure afterward, but at that moment it seemed something dark sloughed off Clay's shoulders. She knew he stood taller.

“It's over, Reynolds,” he said. “Might as well admit it. You're lucky we don't bring charges.”

“You can't prove anything,” Reynolds replied. “And as for Mr. Howard's rights to the money, a judge might have something to say about that. You Howards pay them well enough. I imagine your cousin has one all ready to rule in his favor.”

“Ah, but the case could as easily be tried in Seattle,” Clay said. “I'll take my chances with my lawyer. Now, what will it be? Do I turn you over to the police or will you carry a message back to my family?”

Reynolds eyed him, lowering the walking stick until it struck the floor. Allie clung to Gillian, ready to fight if she had to, yet knowing Clay would be fighting alongside her. She had never seen him so sure of himself, hands at the ready, face set with determination.

Reynolds shook his head. “Very well. What message should I give your cousin?”

“Tell Gerald that Gillian is my concern,” Clay said, voice as hard as Reynolds's look. “Her inheritance will stay in trust, just as my brother intended. Gerald will have to settle for managing my mother's money, which ought to be enough for any man. Remind him that if he tries to take me to court over the matter, I can countersue for my own inheritance and tie up the money for years.”

Reynolds nodded thoughtfully. “Smart fellow.”

Clay shrugged. “I'm a Howard. Tell Gerald there will be no more threats to Mrs. Howard or her daughter, or I will return to Boston and see to the matter personally.”

Reynolds paled, but he nodded again.

Clay stepped back from him and held out his hand to Gillian. “Come on, Captain Howard. I don't know where to find mermaids in San Francisco, but I've eaten pie at a fine restaurant near your hotel. I could use a slice of something warm right now.”

“Me, too,” Gillian said.

Clay's other hand slipped around Allie's waist as they turned for the door. She wanted to hug him and Gillian close, never let them go. Because of him, they had a chance for a future.

She could hardly wait.

Chapter Twenty-One

A
llie stood on the wooden deck of the lumber schooner, Gillian on one side, Clay on the other. The
Washington Fir
was a far more graceful ship than the
Continental;
with her six shorter masts and flatter bottom, she skimmed the waters like a seagull homing for port. Allie was thankful its captain had been willing to carry a large number of the Mercer expedition north with their belongings, including the boxes of books for her lending library. Mr. Mercer had stayed behind with the last of their company, who would be following in a few days.

Allie, Catherine and Maddie had spoken to him before they left, taking over a corner of the hotel lobby screened by potted palms and furnished with wicker chairs with red chintz seats.

“We have become aware that you were paid to bring us out as brides,” Allie told him.

He beamed at them. “No need to thank me, ladies.”

“No need at all,” Maddie agreed. “Does the cow thank the butcher for filleting him so nicely?”

Mercer blinked. “But I—”

“Enough, sir,” Catherine snapped. “Your game is done. We will be party to no such arrangements, and neither will any other woman on this expedition.”

“We simply wanted you to know,” Allie said as he frowned. “Because if the stories about your dealings are true, I imagine you'll find quite a few gentlemen out for your head when we reach Seattle.”

He paled and reached up to loosen his collar. “Yes, well, I am certain my behavior on this trip reflects my character.”

Allie was certain he was right. She was glad to have reached Seattle before him so she could witness his reception on his return.

Catherine and Maddie had also confessed that they had encouraged Clay to court Allie.

“We did not intend to interfere,” Catherine promised. “We had only your best interests at heart.”

“And isn't that exactly what Clay said when he first met us on the pier?” Allie countered with a shake of her head. “You didn't think much of his approach then.”

They had apologized profusely, but Allie had merely hugged them close. “Just know that your support means the world to me. I can't wait to see what we bring to Seattle!”

Now Catherine, Maddie and the others ranged along the railing with her in the May sunshine as the ship followed the tide south down the shoreline of Puget Sound. They were all dressed in their best gowns, Catherine in a tailored brown suit with black braid across the chest, Maddie in her russet gown and black lace shawl crossing her shoulders and Allie in her blue gown with the white edging. She had Gillian wear her plaid outfit, a flat hat perched on her golden curls. Matt stood nearby, wearing a new coat Allie had sown him from one of Mr. Debro's old uniforms. Anticipation rippled through the group as the waves rippled around them.

“There!” Clay shouted, pointing, and every eye turned to the clearing that was coming into sight around the point. Ships rested at anchor in the little harbor, sails furled and masts nearly as tall as the trees behind them. Houses and businesses dotted the hillside, straight and firm, with plenty of room to move among them. Allie could see people along the streets, hurrying down to the wharf. Others thronged the dock, men and women alike, hankies waving like banners to welcome them.

Ten days from San Francisco through stormy seas had landed them at this sheltered shore.

“So this is Elliott Bay,” Catherine mused. “And look at the trees!”

Though much of Seattle's waterfront and the hill behind it had been cleared of timber, stands of fir still scraped the sky along the ridges and fanned out on either side.

“Where's that fancy new university Catherine is always a-talking about?” Maddie asked.

“There,” Clay said, pointing to the white cupola rising above the town.

“That's where I'll go to school one day,” Matt promised.

The entire town was less than one-tenth the size of San Francisco, with muddy streets and not a building taller than two stories. Yet Allie felt as if hope flew like a flag over the settlement. She could hear the cheers of the citizens as the captain ordered the crew to trim the sails in preparation of landing.

Everything was about to change, yet she knew one thing that would never change. She handed Gillian to Maddie and tugged on Clay's arm. “Mr. Howard, a word with you, please.”

Clay moved back against one of the sturdy chests that lined the deck of the schooner. He hadn't donned his suit that morning. Instead, he looked much as she'd first seen him in New York. His heavy fur coat made his shoulders look massive as he leaned a hip against the chest, his brow raised.

“Something wrong, Allie?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. She'd been planning this moment since the day he'd rescued Gillian in San Francisco. They'd been so busy at the hotel as they waited; it had been like shopping at a sale at Jordan and Marsh, Boston's finest fabric store. Men and women had crowded the hotel lobby day and night, offering Mercer's maidens marriage or employment, warning of the dismal life waiting for them in Washington Territory. To Mr. Mercer's dismay, some dozen women had been persuaded to leave the party. However, thanks to Clay's lessons, most had remained true to their vision.

Allie's vision for her future, on the other hand, had changed, and all because of the man beside her.

“You asked me a question back on the Galápagos Islands,” Allie said. “And I never gave you an answer.”

Clay went still, as if every part of him waited. “I thought we'd agreed. You came this far. I couldn't be prouder of you and Gillian, Allie.”

She smiled at him. “I'm proud of us, too, and so thankful to reach Seattle at last! But we would never have made it without you.”

He shrugged. “I don't see that I did all that much.”

“You wouldn't. That's one of the reasons I admire you.”

He drew in a breath. “What are you saying, Allie?”

“I'm saying yes. Yes, Clayton Howard, I love you. Yes, I will marry you and work beside you to make Seattle the New York by and by she was meant to be. If you will have us.”

“If? Allie, nothing would make me happier!” Clay pulled her close and kissed her. The warmth of his embrace left no doubt in her mind that he felt the same way she did. When he held her like this, she knew there was nothing they could not conquer.

“‘She walks in beauty like the night,'” Clay murmured against her hair, “‘of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.'”

He cradled her close, kissed her temple. She'd fought so hard for her independence and almost missed the chance to depend on someone in love just as he depended on her. She could imagine long nights by the fire, reading, talking; days spent planning and working together. The world was so much bigger than she'd thought in Boston. Anything was possible.

Thank You, Lord, for bringing us back together!

The schooner's horn woke her from her dream.

“Mama!” Gillian cried. “Look, mermaids!”

Allie gasped and hurried to her daughter, lifting Gillian in her arms. With Clay's arms steadying her, her heart full, she gazed out at the water, where porpoises rode the bow wave of the ship as the
Washington Fir
slid into port. She didn't want to spoil her daughter's delight by explaining that they were not the fin-tailed mammals she'd been hoping for.

“They're welcoming us,” Clay said, taking Gillian from Allie and lifting her higher to give her a better view. “We're almost there.”

“No,” Allie said, wrapping her arms around both of them. “We're almost home.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from A PONY EXPRESS CHRISTMAS by Rhonda Gibson.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for choosing
The Bride Ship,
the first in my Frontier Bachelors series. If you enjoyed the story, I hope you'll consider leaving a review on a reader or retailer site online.

I was born and raised in the Puget Sound area, and the story of the Mercer expeditions has been near to my heart since I was a child. Roger Conant was indeed a reporter for the
New York Times,
and he left a journal that has been published as
Mercer's Belles
. I owe a great deal to his chronicles for the background of this story.

One fact I did stretch a little. While there is a Howard Street in San Francisco, it was not named for Clay's family.

If you'd like more information on the Mercer Belles, please visit my website at
www.reginascott.com
. You can also find me online at my blog at
www.nineteenteen.com
or
www.facebook.com/authorreginascott
. I love to hear from readers!

Blessings!

Regina Scott