ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) (171 page)

              But within the village, I could see I faced a very rustic life indeed.

              We disembarked near a large-framed building that readily advertised itself as the Chase Hotel. Several curious, youthful souls were interested in my comings and goings, and one boy among them entered the hotel in an astonishing hurry. He was followed by a man I immediately recognized to be Elias.

              “Minnie! At last!” The man who’d paid my way and for my stays along the journey surprised me by meeting me eye-to-eye. I’d had no expectation of meeting a man my own height, and the sight of him brightened my prospects.

              Even better, I can attest that the photograph he’d sent in exchange for my own had done him fair justice. He kept his red whiskers well-trimmed, and his hair neatly parted in the center. By the way his clothes hung, I could see he was strongly-muscled and lean.

              After our eyes had met for what I found to be an uncomfortable length, I looked away, embarrassed. We’d been traveling some hours, and even though I’d done what I could in the bouncing carriage, I feared my appearance would come as some disappointment. If it did, I will say it was much to his credit in that he showed no hint of dismay.

              He observed proprieties and didn’t embrace, but I could see a genuine joy in his face as he took my hands in his. “You are so very welcome to Chase, Minnie.”

              “Thank you. This is your uncle’s hotel that you spoke of?”

              “It is! Come in, please. Your bags will be seen to. Boys?” He motioned to the carriage and a troop

of the idle lads immediately went to work collecting all of my personal belongings.

              “We see a great deal of traffic here, though I know we do not look it.” He explained as we entered the lobby of the hotel. It was surprisingly refined, I will admit. There were plants, attractive dark curtains framing the windows, and a lovely wallpaper print of red and blue flowers. The floor was covered in a thick, expensive carpet that, while somewhat worn, had been kept swept and clean.

              As we entered, a trio of graying men approached. Each looked more eccentric than the other. The first and portliest of the men rushed to take my hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Cyril Pierce, Miss Wilson! It is such a pleasure to welcome you to the Chase Hotel! I am the proprietor and uncle to the fortunate young Elias before you. Here are my brothers Wilbur and Josiah,” he said, speaking for the whisper-thin, gangly man to his right and the fellow with the overly grand handlebar mustache to his right, “and they are equally pleased to see you. Is that not so?”

              “Of course!” The thin one said, gripping my hand with surprising force for one so gaunt. “I’m the town physician, you see, and I run the apothecary.”

              “And I’m your dentist and barber.” Josiah proclaimed. By the time he’d finished shaking my hand, my wrist was sore from their enthusiasm. “I’ll cut both men and women’s styles. No style is too complicated, no coif to be neglected!”

              “That’s fine, uncles, just fine.” Elias suggested. “I’ve no doubt Minnie is tired from her long journey. May I show her to her room?”

              “Certainly!” The three agreed, and Cyril added, “When you’ve had a chance to freshen up, I have asked the kitchen staff to stay on to prepare you dinner. Come down as soon as you’re ready.”

              “You’re all too kind.” I said, thanking them. “But I’m not so famished. I think I’ll simply turn in, if no one minds.”

              “Not at all.” Cyril agreed, and Elias led me up the carpeted stairs to my suite.

              “I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you.” He said, opening the room up for me. It was generously appointed, with a large frame poster bed, a lush Persian rug, and the most beautiful vanity I had laid eyes upon. “This room is yours for as long as you wish. I recall you mentioning you love books, so I have taken the liberty of ordering a few for you. They have yet to arrive, but I do expect them on the next coach.”

              I was overwhelmed, but not in the way he was thinking. I found myself tearing up and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at my eyes. “Sorry, Elias. I’m very tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

              “Certainly. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs. I’m at the counter through the overnight hours in case our guests need anything.”

              This was the first time he’d mentioned a trade. I knew he was attached to his family’s ventures, but I didn’t know how. “Oh! So you’re a hotel clerk.”

              “Yes.” He looked nervous for the first time. “I hope that’s not a problem. I can assure you that one day this hotel will be mine. That is, ours.” He took my hands and now it was my turn to be nervous.

              I didn’t know the first thing about running a hotel. Nor would I have to, as fate would have it.

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              Before we turn to that, I would have you know the character of the frontier town, as I would come to know it. It may not be a fair representation as viewed through the eyes of a stranger. I will also note that within me was a turmoil every bit as perilous as that I faced in the so-called Pacific, an ocean I found to be far less tranquil than its name would imply.

              I would say the most surprising thing to me was that the village was a picture of extreme contrast. For every respectable, hard-working, church-going family man there seemed to be a drunken idler ready to fight. It was credited to me by Elias as having to do with the low nature of some of those who had ventured west in search of gold and, finding none, had continued to decline without return.

              “You’ll find all sorts, here, I fear.” He warned me as he took me by the arm through the town. “There’s the shirker, the deserter, the rustler, the wanted man. Never fear, we have many kind hearts among us as well.               Abigail Monroe, wife of Reverend Monroe, is a pillar of the community and insists I must present you to her so she may have a chance of befriending you. But I tell you all of this as a caution. Chase can be a touch dangerous.”

              So far, so good to my way of thinking. I’d had a taste of adventure, and I didn’t mind a bit more. But there was another delicate matter I wanted to present to see if we were compatible, and I wasn’t sure how to do so. I wished to test his character and thought of a way to draw him out.              

              “And are there many people of Mexican and Indian descent here as well? I have heard as much in my reading, that the West is a great mix of people.” I knew very well that this was true already, but I wanted to elicit his views.

              “Within the town and beyond, as well as Chinese, Irish, and those people of African extract so recently freed from bondage, certainly.” He added cautiously. “I should say that while there are many folk with prejudices they’ve brought with them, I was not brought up in such a way. My father’s father was an abolitionist; my father was not, but I think I take more after grandfather.”

              “That only recommends you to me all the more, Elias.” I said, relieved. He seemed to visibly relax as well at the revelation of my sympathies and he gave my arm a gentle squeeze. I was glad to see he was no bigot. I could not have stayed on had that been the case, though retreating to my kin in Indiana would have been difficult in my position.

              I did meet Abigail Monroe soon after, and she was holding court with a group of young women in a sewing circle. Elias excused himself after introductions were made, though some part of me wished he’d linger. We had only just begun to get to know one another in the previous hour, but he declared he’d need to sleep in readiness for his nighttime duties.

              Abigail made me welcome, serving tea with milk and introducing me to the other women of her circle. “You must find us so very different from your city ways.” She declared over her own cup of tea.”

              I agreed, politely noting that it was all very homey and welcoming, nonetheless. But inside I withered. Being left with a group of women who were interested in needlepoint and gossip held no great appeal to me. Not that I think ill of needlepoint; for my part, I’ve always struggled to succeed in that art, being better versed in cooking, tidying up, and organizing the home among my feminine arts. I fancied too, that I had a head for numbers, though I’d never been tested in that talent with very practical purpose such as managing a household budget or helping my father with his store. I had offered, but this proved to be the limit of his progressive views on a woman’s role in public life.

              As it was, I soon found I misjudged the women of the group. I’d never met a more hard-nosed, practical group of women than the four or five women who ventured in and out of the discussion over the next few hours. “The Murphy boy is falling in with a bad element.” Cassie Brown mentioned to the group some little while after I’d described my origins, family, and voyage.

              “He’ll work his way into the Charles gang if steps aren’t taken.” Abigail agreed. “He’s of the right age and from what my Hank has seen he’s handy with a gun. Quick-tempered too. Hank tried to bring him to see the light of the Lord, but he didn’t seem very keen on it.”

              “All I’m saying is someone should do something.” Cassie suggested. She looked over her glasses at another woman of our group, and the heavy-set woman recipient of her look shook her head and laughed.

              “Not at all subtle, Cassie, not at all subtle.” Judy McCormack commented, wrinkling her brow. She seemed to be the fastest of the knitters and wasn’t being slowed by the conversation. “I’ll have Jim put a scare in him.”

              “Jim?” I asked, confused.

              “My husband, the sheriff. If Jim doesn’t scare him back onto the right road, I will.” She nodded with finality, letting her knitting needles click together.

              It was my turn to laugh. “Forgive me, but are you saying you think you could set a potential gunslinger straight?”

              Abigail pointed to Judy with her needles. “She’s the fastest gun in these parts, as far as we know. How many times have you been deputized, Judy?”

              “I lose count. Not my favorite pastime, but I suppose I could remind Bobby Murphy that there’s a good reason to stay on the proper side of the law, if he needs a demonstration.”

              Oh goodness, I thought to myself and couldn’t restrain a smile. I’d truly ventured into the West. Fear of domestic boredom, ever on my horizon, was starting to fade ever so gradually.

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Dear Anna Belle,

My dearest sister-in-law, I vowed I would write you upon my arrival, and forgive me for how the time has flown! There has been need to acclimate myself to many changes and I have necessarily forgotten my correspondence. I hope you will understand, and I hope this letter finds you and James in good health.

Though I thank you greatly for the notion of finding love by correspondence, the past two weeks has been somewhat trying. I had fancied myself an independent woman in our household. There is so little of independence one knows until one is fully immersed in this Western climate. As I grow more fond of it, I also find adjustment must be made in how Elias and I are growing into a couple.

I suppose there was less difficulty in this for you and James. You grew up with one another. Elias, despite his kindly nature, is as a foreign language to me. I imagine I must be so to him as well…

              I was well into writing my letter to Anna Belle when I stopped. How could I relay to her the confusion reigning over my heart with these simple and few words? Though I should have been at my happiest, a miserable cloud hung over me, haunting my steps. I was in love with /a man who didn’t understand me, and I had no idea of what to do.

              We had the evening before been returning from an excellent conversation hosted by Sheriff McCormick and my dear friend Judith. Though we had enjoyed a charming hour of charades, followed by discussion of the state of the South and its recovery after the war. As we were walking home, he gallantly offering me his arm, I chanced to mention Judith’s reported skill with a gun.

              “That’s well-known among the town, dear Minnie.” He informed me, with a twinkle in his eye. “I had hoped you would be amused by the discovery. We have among us many exotics, you see.”