Amon (6 page)

He gave her a warm smile, one he often used to comfort her. “I’ll have my say with the gentleman alone, yes. You know me well enough.”

She had to smile as well. “Indeed I do.” She tossed a furtive glance at Mr. Cotter, who was still staring at her, his eyes intense. She swallowed hard. “I’ll go tell Mrs. Upton to prepare a pot.” She gave a small curtsy, left the room, closed the door, turned …

… and walked right into Mrs. Upton. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry!” Then she noticed that the other woman was carrying a large cast-iron frying pan.

Mrs. Upton followed her eyes and nodded. “I heard a ruckus up here, so I thought I’d better look in on things. We ladies can’t be too careful.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Nettie sighed, leaning against the nearest wall.

“It sounded like Clinton Moresy.”

“It was.”

Mrs. Upton shook her head sadly. “That boy just isn’t right,” she offered, tapping her temple with a finger. “Well, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, yes. My brother is entertaining a guest and wanted some tea if it’s not too much trouble?”

“No trouble at all, honey. You come with me.”

As they headed down the hall, Nettie breathed a sigh of relief as she saw no sign of that horrid man Mr. Moresy. They descended the stairs, crossed the lobby to the dining room and from there into the kitchen. “Oh my!” she said as she glanced around, her eyes widening. The place was enormous!

“Yes indeed,” Mrs. Upton said proudly at Nettie’s reaction. “Quite a place Mr. Van Cleet built here. Now the visitor – is it that handsome Mr. Cotter?”

Nettie couldn’t help but look surprised. “However did you know it was him?”

“Honey, it wasn’t just Moresy’s voice I heard coming down the stairwell.” She hummed to herself a moment. “Besides, that Mr. Cotter … I swear his voice could melt butter.”

Nettie realized she was right – the man’s voice was pleasant. She hadn’t had a chance to dwell on it before, being more concerned about Mr. Moresy causing trouble.

“Is your brother speaking to him about marrying you?” Mrs. Upton asked with a wink.

Nettie gasped, then sobered. So what if the woman knew? Soon the whole town probably would. “I suppose he is.”

“Sent you down here so they could meet in private, huh? Well, that's a good sign.”

She squared her shoulders and was about to give Mrs. Upton what for, then stopped. The other woman meant no harm. But she was determined to choose her own husband – and even if her brother approved of him, she might not. That’s what she hated most about this: the horrible feeling that she had no control over her life, any more than she had slaving for the Baron.

No. She wanted to marry, but no one – not her brother, the Duke, or his brothers for that matter was going to choose her husband for her. About that, she was determined.

Five

“I dare say,” Imogene huffed, “but if reading
The Devil’s Bride
and
The Pirate’s Peril
aren’t enough to pick you up, then I’m at my wits end!”

Cutty shifted himself on the bed, crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. They were in the patient room at the back of Doc Waller’s house. He’d been there ever since the Whitman twins had arrived in town a few days ago. “Woman, the day
yer
at yer wit’s end will be the day yer in yer grave! Even then, you’ll no doubt have some cuttin’ remark that’ll set the Grim Reaper’s sickle on fire!”

“Well, well,” Imogene said with a smile, “there’s the Cutty I know! You’ve got to fight whatever this is that ails you! And I don’t think it has anything to do with your previous injuries.”

He glared at her with his one good eye. “And what makes ya say that,
Doctor
?”

“Because I know you better than you think, dear sir.”

Cutty sank back into his pillows at the remark. “Ya don’t know me!”

“Don’t I?” Imogene said with a sly smile. “I’ve spent enough time with you, you old coot!”

He sat up at that. “Who are ya calling an old coot, you … you …” He snorted. “Being at least
half
a gentleman, I cain’t say it!”

“Half a gentleman? Now there’s one I haven’t heard!”

“Well, now ya have!” He shot back with a curt nod. “Be glad at least half of me is!”

Imogene leaned toward him and sighed. “And what’s the other half consist of?”

Cutty’s face softened. “That’s somethin’ I don't wanna talk about if’n ya don’t mind. I hope that side of me’s long gone.” He looked away. “I was no good, Imogene, no good at all.”

She shrugged. “Everyone has a dark side, don’t they? I think that’s one of the reasons I went to India so often.”

“Is that the side that bagged a tiger?” he asked with a smile.

“Indeed not. But it certainly brought me a lot of attention!”

“I’m sure it did. I would’ve given anything to be there and see you shoot the beast.”

“Ah, but alas, ‘twas not to be at the time …,” she said with a sigh.

“At the time? What ya mean? I didn’t even know ya then!”

She shook herself. “Oh yes, you’re quite right. How could you have come?”

“Land sakes, woman, are ya losin’ your mental faculties?”

“Of course not – I’m tired, that’s all. Tired of sitting here arguing with you! Now are you going to get out of that bed or not?” She stood and crossed her arms.

“I’ll get out of this here bed when I’m good and ready!”

“Fine, then I shall see you when you do!”

“What?!” Cutty said with enough exuberance to lift himself halfway. “What do ya mean?”

“I mean that I’m not going to see you until you get your sorry hide out of that bed! There’s nothing wrong with you!”

“Who says there ain’t?” he screeched, hard enough to come off the bed again.

“I
says
there
ain’t
,” she replied, exaggerating the slang.

He righted himself and pulled the quilt against him. “I’m a sick man, I tell ya!” he yelled as he shook his fist.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” Grandma Waller cried as she charged into the room. “What’s all the yellin’ for?”

“We’re not yellin’!” Cutty shouted. “We are havin’ a civilized discussion!”

“I told you there was nothing wrong with him,” Imogene told Grandma with a triumphant smirk.

Grandma studied Cutty with a keen eye. “Is this true? Are you back to your old crotchety self?”

Cutty’s eyes darted between them. “I … well, I …”

“If you’re taking up space, so help me …” Grandma threatened. “We might need that bed for someone who’s really sick!”

He sighed in defeat. “I’m going, then,” he groused. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“Ha!” Imogene said and raised her arms in victory. “I knew it!”

“You knew what?” he growled as he scratched at the chest of his long underwear.

She stepped forward. “That something else ails you, old man. And I intend to find out what!”

Cutty’s eyes widened. “Mind yer own business, woman!”

She spun to Grandma. “You see? That confirms it!”

“Confirms what?” Cutty asked, his voice cracking.

“That I’m right!” Imogene said waving a hand in the air for emphasis. She turned and left the patient room.

Grandma stared after her a moment, then slowly looked back at Cutty. “You’d best hightail it out of here, then. I’ll go see what I can rustle up in the kitchen for ya to take. Can’t send a man out without something to eat.”

She left as well, leaving him alone for the first time that day. If Doc Waller hadn’t been poking and prodding him, Imogene was harping at him. Or reading to him. Cutty smiled at the thought before he threw back the quilt and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d spent the last three days trying to recover from shock – and just plain hide. Now that he’d gotten his senses back, to a certain degree at least, it was time to set things straight.

If only he knew how.

* * *

Amon studied the man sitting across from him. Newton Whitman was handsome, with dark eyes and shoulder-length golden hair. He wondered if long hair was the latest fashion in England. But the man’s hairstyle didn’t matter. What did was the offer Mr. Whitman had just extended to him.

“My sister, Mr. Cotter, has been through almost more than she can bear. I’ll not see her suffer any longer. Can you guarantee me that you’ll make her happy?”

“I can’t guarantee anything,” Amon told him evenly. “She might not like me. Then what?”

“A logical assumption,” Newton agreed. “But she has to marry and, as the Cookes deem you the best possible choice, I’d rather she become Mrs. Nettie Cotter than be saddled with one such as Mr. Moresy.”

Amon nodded. “Clinton is probably the worst man around these parts she could get stuck with. But somehow I doubt that could happen, not with you around.”

“And you’d be right, dear sir. I’d prefer she live out her days as a spinster than attach herself to the likes of him.”

Amon stared at Newton a moment and tried to identify the emotions welling up inside. Their discussion had been amiable enough, and twice he battled with telling the Englishman he wanted nothing to do with marriage, that he was only trying to defend his sister from Clinton. But something kept stopping him. Before he knew it, he was shaking hands across the small table between them, agreeing to a union that an hour ago he would have avoided like a plague.

Now, however, was another story. Those strange clicks inside him had done … something. And before he could stop it, the matter had been settled.

Now came the details. “I don’t have a house, I’m afraid – I live in the men’s camp outside of town. Obviously that’s no place for a woman.”

“How long would it take you to build a house of your own?”

Amon shrugged. “Depends on the help, I guess. Of course, I am good with wood – I could build one myself if I had to. But it would take longer.”

“Ambitious, I must say,” Newton said, sitting back in his chair. “But not necessary. I’ll help you. We have ample money to stay at the hotel for some time. You and Nettie could have your own room.”

“Well … that’s most generous of you,” Amon said. “I’m sure your sister would prefer to continue on at Mr. Van Cleet’s hotel rather than sleep out on the prairie.”

“Quite so,” Newton agreed and stood. “I’d like to get things moving immediately if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Strangely, he didn’t mind, even though he knew he probably should. “But tell me … after I marry your sister, what’s to become of you? Are you going to stay in Clear Creek?”

Newton looked away a moment and stared out the window. “I haven’t thought about that much. Protecting Nettie and seeing to her needs has been my priority since we arrived here.” He chuckled as he looked back at Amon. “Long before we left England, actually. It never occurred to me what I would do once my job was done.”

“Naturally you had to see to her protection. But once that’s passed to me, you’re free to go anywhere.”

“True enough. But I’ll not think about it until she becomes Mrs. Cotter. After all, there is the possibility she won’t … like you, just as you say.”

“And what if I find I don’t like her?”

Newton smiled. “Really? You
have
seen her. What’s not to like?”

“The heart and mind are two separate things,” Amon stated. “Though your sister’s do happen to come wrapped in a delightful package, if I may say so.”

“You may. But be warned,” Newton chuckled. “Her mind is fast and her heart … well, my sister is of a passionate nature. Whether it’s a cause she believes in or a loved one she’s protecting, she gives it her all. And she’s a fighter. I suggest you woo her carefully, Mr. Cotter, and tap into that passion for yourself. As her husband, you’re the only one licensed to do so.”

Amon stared at him, surprised at the man’s frankness. He nodded as his usual calm engulfed him once again. “I’ll try my best.”

“See that you do.” Newton glanced around the room. “Speaking of which, where is she?”

Amon smiled. “Mrs. Upton probably has her cornered and talking her ear off.”

“Then she’s giving us time to talk. My sister is considerate that way.”

“Or she fears our words.”

Newton nodded. “I trust, sir, that she’ll have no reason to fear
you
in any way.”

“You have my word,” Amon told him, raising his hand as if taking an oath.

Newton began to study him with scrutiny when a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” he called over his shoulder.

Mrs. Upton did so, followed by Nettie carrying the tea service. She carefully crossed the room to the small table and set it down. “There now, gentlemen,” Mrs. Upton said with a happy smile. “Sorry it took a bit longer than normal, but Miss Whitman here helped me get a batch of cookies into the oven. My, she’s handy in the kitchen!”

Nettie looked away a moment, and Amon noticed the pink creeping into her cheeks. “That’s reassuring,” he commented, just to see what she would do.

She turned to face him, but said nothing. She then looked at her brother. “What did I miss?”

“The part where I said yes,” he told her.

Her eyes widened and she quickly turned again to Amon. She looked him up and down, seemingly unable to breathe.

“Oh, isn’t it wonderful?” Mrs. Upton exclaimed and clapped her hands together. “Another wedding! I’ll have to know the date! I’ll make you the best cake you’ve ever seen!” She turned and bustled for the door.

“Kind woman!” Newton called after her. “I mean … Mrs. Upton?”

She turned back to him. “Yes, Mr. Whitman?”

“Mr. Cotter wishes to court my sister. There will be no wedding until she decides …” His eyes flicked to Amon. “… that is, until
they
decide if they’ll suit. Understand, I appreciate your exuberance in the matter, but I must ask that you do not rush ahead of things.”

Mrs. Upton looked at each of them and picked at her apron. “I do get a little excited about these things, don’t I? Very well, I’ll hold back!” She winked and left the room.

The only sound to follow was the click of the door as she shut it. Everyone went quiet and Amon studied the woman he’d just agreed to marry. True, she was beautiful, as beautiful as her brother was handsome. Hadn’t he heard they were identical twins? They certainly did look a lot alike. Her eyes were just as dark, her hair the same honey gold, though longer than his and piled on her head in what he assumed was the latest fashion. None of the women in Clear Creek wore their hair in such a sophisticated style, and he briefly wondered how long it took her to get it that way …

A tremor raced through him, taking him by surprise, and he had to blink a few times just to tear his gaze from her. He looked at Newton instead. “How should we proceed, then?”

Newton looked between them. “We haven’t had our tea. Shall we?”

* * *

Nettie couldn’t believe it! Her brother had just arranged a marriage between her and the man sitting on the settee. Now what would she do? And when were they going to get married?
Wait …
she gaped at her brother as he poured them each a cup. “Am I to understand that Mr. Cotter and I are to … court?”

He looked at her. “Would you rather not?”

She took a deep breath, then another. Why was she having such a hard time breathing? She stared at Amon Cotter again. He stared back, but said nothing. “You wish to court me?”

Newton handed her a cup. “I think we’ve already established that. Mr. Cotter, however, wishes to build you a suitable dwelling as well. I thought it would give you ample time for the two of you to get to know each other.”