Destiny's Bride (3 page)

“As you know, Mr. Palmer,” Aunt May said, “I own the boarding house here in town. The revenue provides me with a very comfortable, yet not extravagant lifestyle.” She pulled a ledger from her handbag and opened it.  “This should offer proof of my income and continuing profits.”

He briefly glanced at the figures and flashed a smug smile. “It’s just too bad your boarding house is in… well shall we say, a less then desirable part of town. Word has it that some of the people you cater to have questionable backgrounds.”

She locked gazes with him. “Look, Mr. Palmer, you may not approve of the manner in which I support myself, but as a businessman, you have to admit that loaning me money would be a sound investment.”  She looked at Walt and patted his hand. “My nephew has his heart set on buying a piece of land, and I’m ready and willing to mortgage my boarding house to get the money he needs.”

Walt felt a pang of guilt for putting his aunt under such unpleasant scrutiny on his behalf.

“Well, I don’t know exactly how much I can loan you,” Harvey Palmer countered. “Like I said, location of the collateral property is important.”

“Mr. Palmer, where my boarding house is situated has nothing to do with its worth. It’s the only one in town, and I have proven it’s a solid investment. I expect you to put aside your prejudice and act wisely by granting my request.”

Harvey Palmer steepled his fingers below his chin. “I fear if I loan money on your establishment, I’m going to be overrun with similar requests. I’m sure you understand my predicament.”

Walt leaned forward. “I’m not sure that’s my aunt’s concern. She’s simply trying to get money so I can purchase land several days north of here, and she’s willing to mortgage her livelihood for me. I assure you, sir, Aunt May’s loan will be paid in full as soon as my ranch is operational. I plan to farm as well as raise cattle.”

The banker suddenly perked up. “Hmmm, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to help a young man get a start.” He pushed back from his desk, rose, and held out his hand to seal the agreement.

Walt shook with him, feeling as though an immediate invitation to leave town had just been extended. He suspected what sealed the deal was the announcement that money was for land miles from Silver City. But why?

He escorted his feisty aunt out into the fresh air and
midday sunshine. She peered up at him with a smile and pinched his cheek. “Boy, I love standing up to that snobbish banker. I don’t think Harvey Palmer will be looking down his nose at us anymore.”

Walt grabbed her, gave her a squeeze, and danced her around on the sidewalk until she was out of breath from laughing. He kissed her cheek. “Aunt May, how can I ever thank you for helping me to realize my dream? I promise I’ll pay back every penny as soon as I can.” He helped her into the buggy then while humming a happy tune, dashed over to his side.

Walt dropped Aunt May off in front of the boarding house and went around back to the barn to stable the horse and put away the buggy. Now that the land deal was finalized, he had to think about departing Silver City to begin work on his new place. Despite his glee, a frown tugged at his lips. How could he leave behind the gorgeous Miss Cecile Palmer? He couldn’t…he wouldn’t.  Before heading out, he’d to find a way to get better acquainted and convince her to come with him and start a future together. “Palmer?” He muttered her last name, then shook his head. There was no way she was related to the grouch at the bank.

He ducked beneath the clothesline and crossed the side yard, whistling slightly off key. As he rounded the house, he saw Cecile coming down the street. His breath caught in his throat, and he paused to admire her beauty. The halo of sunlight shining in her hair gave her an angelic appearance, verifying his belief she was sent from heaven. What he wouldn’t give to remove all the pins and run his fingers through the long locks cascading over her shoulders, but that would definitely tarnish that halo a bit. An immediate whoosh of air pushed past his lips, exhibiting the shame he felt for thinking like a heathen. If Aunt May suspected his unseemly thoughts, she’d grab him by the ear just as she had when he did anything wrong as a child.  He smiled at the memory, funnier now than it was then.

As Cecile neared, his smile widened. Again, he wondered how to approach the matter of courting her, and in such a short period of time. How he’d manage wasn’t yet clear, but determination grew like a fire in his belly. When he put his mind to something, he almost always got his way, and she’d been on his mind every minute since he first saw her.

Cecile noticed him and waved. Her steps quickened until she paused in front of him. “I was hoping I‘d run into you. I’d like to invite you to Sunday supper. Will you come?” She sounded a little breathless.

Watching her supple lips move made him want to savor the taste of them. He listened to her but his mind begged to explore her sensuous mouth. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to succumb to the sweet temptation.

Knowing a kiss would be worth the wait, he gave a slight shake of his head and turned his full attention to why she’d ventured into forbidden territory.

“Did you hear me, Walt?  I invited you to dinner.”

Warmth spread through his chest. She’d made the first move.  “I’d love to come. What time should I be there?”

“Well, Father likes to eat promptly at two o’clock, so if you could be there around noon, we could have some time to visit. And about my father… well, he seems rather stern, but he can be very nice.” There was a shimmer of doubt in her eyes.

“Uh… your father wouldn’t happen to be Harvey Palmer would he?” Walt kept his tone light, hoping he was wrong.

“Why… yes, you must have met him?” Her smile faded, but she quickly restored it. “Good, if you already know each other that makes it even better.”

Better? He’d already been treated like something Harvey Palmer scraped off the bottom of his boot, but Walt forced a smile. “Yes, I did meet your father today. At the bank.”  Since Walt had nothing pleasant to say about the man an uncomfortable gap suddenly opened in the conversation. His gaze locked on Cecile’s mouth again—the button shape of her lips, her pearly white teeth, and the tongue that pushed against them in an ever so slight lisp when she said anything ending with an “s.”

“I…I have to pick up something at the mercantile for Mother, so I should get going,” Cecile finally stuttered. “See you on Sunday. I can’t wait!”

He watched her until she disappeared around the corner, thinking how hard the wait would be for him, too. He’d totally forgotten to share the news about getting the money he needed. She’d be pleased, but he was anxious to see her reaction to finding out she was part of his plan. Hopefully knowing that would please her even more.

Turning, he climbed the boarding house steps, his mind conjuring up visions of Harvey Palmer’s beady eyes staring over the top of his spectacles with that stern and disapproving look.

“Yeah, I can’t wait, either,” Walt mumbled, as he slipped inside.

***

The sun’s brilliant rays peeked through the window of Walt’s boarding house bedroom. He threw the covers aside, rolled out of bed, stretched his arms high over his head and yawned. His aunt was already busy in the kitchen, and the delicious smell of frying bacon made his stomach rumble.

He pulled on his pants while wondering what kept her going. Just a little past dawn and she was already up and busy. Although at least sixty-five, Aunt May seemed to have more energy than someone half her age. He adored her. She was all he had left to call family, at least until he persuaded Cecile to build a new one with him. Walt’s heart skipped a beat. To others it might appear he was moving too fast, but he wasn’t about to miss out on a good thing simply to stand on propriety.

Cecile invaded his every thought. He had dreamed of marrying the right girl, settling down on a ranch, and raising lots of cattle and kids. Now he had the money to buy the land, and he was pretty sure he’d met the right girl. The cattle and kids would come later.  Whistling again, he descended the stairs, two at time, and joined the other boarders in the kitchen for breakfast.  The skinny man with a pointed chin at the far end of the table kept shovelling in food and didn’t acknowledge Walt’s arrival, but the round-faced gentleman with rosy cheeks nodded a friendly good morning.

Walt filled his plate with less than usual, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he went to the Palmer’s for supper. Small talk and an extra cup of coffee killed a little time, but he made a mental note of the things Aunt May said needed tending.

After completing a few odd chores and doing some much-needed carpentry on the steps of the boarding house, Walt went inside to bathe. The warm water in Aunt May’s new cast iron tub felt good to his tired muscles. While he languished, he pondered how nice it was to have a woman to take care of him. He hadn’t had that luxury since his mother passed. He slid down until the water lapped at his chin, listening to Aunt May’s humming as she went about her housework in the bedrooms upstairs. An angel’s chorus couldn’t sound sweeter.

Walt’d become used beating his clothes clean on a river rock and wearing wrinkled shirts, and now his aunt spoiled him by doing his laundry.  Plus, this new-fangled water closet she’d added for the guest’s convenience sure beat the heck out of washing up in a horse trough.

A smile spread across his face as he lathered his chest. If everything went well today, maybe he’d have a woman in his life on a regular basis.

He glanced at the clock on the bureau, surprised it was only ten o’clock. It seemed as though he’d worked outside all morning. How depressing to think he still had to pass two hours before seeing Cecile again. He sat in the tub until his skin began to prune, then climbed out, dried off, and wrapped in a soft linen towel, scampered across the hall to where his clothes lay on his bed.

Dressed in his best jeans and the crisp white shirt Aunt May had just washed and ironed, he surveyed his reflection in the mirror. He pushed back one curly lock that always wanted to fall forward over his brow and straightened his string tie, satisfied with his appearance. He checked the time again, frowning that barely a half hour had elapsed He busied himself spreading the rumpled patchwork quilt across his bed, hanging up his wet towel, and stowing his dirty work clothes. It seemed as though someone had glued the clock hands in place. With one last assessment of his reflection, he deemed his looks proper enough to marry a banker’s daughter and went downstairs to wait. He shadowed his aunt, bothered the boarders with idle chatter, and fidgeted in a chair until time passed.

At twelve o’clock sharp, Walt knocked on the Palmers’ front door.  Tension turned his shoulders rigid and his mind was a jumble, wondering what to say? Was this really the night he planned to convince a woman he barely knew to marry him and move away? If so, how, especially when that someone’s father obviously didn’t think to highly of him?

From the stories Aunt May shared about the banker, the meeting hadn’t just been a bad first impression. Walt feared he’d met the true Harvey Palmer. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, but he managed to swipe it away as the door opened.

Cecile stood before him in a dark brown dress that turned her auburn hair fiery. The sides were pulled up into a stylish knot while the back cascaded well beyond her shoulders.  As he imagined her hair unpinned, each strand looked like silk. The modest expanse of bared skin at her neckline took his breath away. At her welcoming smile and motion to enter, the same nerves that earlier stilled the clock hands glued his feet to the floor.

“Well, don’t just stand outside. Come on in.” With a giggle, she snagged his arm, yanked him into the entry hall, and closed the door.

He swallowed a sigh, thankful she hadn’t pulled him in by his sweaty hands. While she led the way to the parlor, he swiped his palms against his pant legs, and like the gentleman his mother raised, he waited for Cecile to be seated. Nerves kept him on his feet, and he scanned the room, noting the good taste of a woman’s decorating reflected in the matching settee and chairs trimmed in mahogany and the throw rugs on the floor that added color to the neutral cushions.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he tried to find a relaxed stance while crossing and uncrossing his arms.  A glance down assured him he really hadn’t grown an extra limb and almost laughed at his ridiculous antics. Those brave thoughts he’d entertained in the tub had turned tail and run. Cecile’s presence reduced him to jelly. First, soggy palms at the Spring Fling, and now again, only this time he suffered from a nervous, all-over kind of sweat. He’d heard that thoughts of marriage did that to some men, and at almost twenty, he considered himself one, albeit a cowardly one at the moment.

Cecile patted the cushion next to her. “I’m so happy you could join us. Please, have a seat.”

Us. The word beckoned images of Harvey Palmer scowling over his spectacles. That was a look Walt didn’t want to see tonight. His stomach did a little flip flop as he sat next to Cecile, keeping a fair distance between them.  He cast an askew glance at her, rubbing his hands together between knees spread wide. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”

The sofa was comfortable, but he definitely wasn’t. He sat back and tried to look relaxed, but sweat again trickled down his temple. Fishing in his pocket, he extracted a handkerchief and, with a shaky hand, blotted away the offending moisture.

“Is it too warm in here?” she asked. “I can open the front door.”