Newton (Prairie Grooms Book 9) (8 page)

“Cutty?” Constance said in shock. “How would he … oh yes, I’d quite forgotten. I suppose he probably attended lots of balls before coming to America.”

“And perhaps after,” Imogene added with a raised eyebrow.

“I try not to think about … his past,” Constance admitted.

Imogene nodded in understanding and turned back to Arya. “Don’t worry, my dear. By the time His Grace comes home to Clear Creek, we’ll have everything and everyone ready, including what’s needed for your wedding.”

“His…grace?” Arya said. She’d heard that a few times, but wasn’t sure of the exact meaning.

“That’s the address one uses for a duke or duchess,” Imogene explained. “And a duke ranks just below a prince. Practically royalty.”

Arya’s eyes widened. She knew what royalty was. “He is very important, then?”

“Very high-ranking, yes,” Imogene agreed. “However, he grew up in Clear Creek, and to the people here he’s simply Duncan Cooke. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from living here, everyone in this town loves the Cooke family.”

Arya smiled. She liked them too.

When they reached the hotel they went inside and straight to the dining room. Arya watched the three women flit about the room, each making wide hand motions and pointing at different things. The more they talked about what they were going to do, the more excited they got. Even Mrs. Upton came out from the kitchen to join them, and she became the most excited of all.

Apparently this dance had the whole town in the same state. Duncan Cooke and his wife must be important people indeed for them to go through so much preparation and trouble. Or, was it as Imogene said earlier, that they were doing this because they loved them and nothing more? Who was to say? She supposed she’d find out when they arrived. In the meantime, Arya was going to have fun watching everyone. She just hoped they didn’t forget about her and her wedding in the midst of it.

Eloise disappeared into the lobby for a few moments, returning with paper, pen and ink. She sat at a table, wrote a few things down, then motioned for the rest of the women to join her. “What about food?”

“Oh my dear, sweet Eloise,” Imogene said. “Do we really need to think about that now? We don’t even know when Duncan and Cozette will arrive. We should be more concerned with Newton and Arya’s wedding.”

Arya nodded vigorously in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Arya,” said Eloise. “It’s just that … where we come from, having the chance to entertain a duke and duchess is monumental for one’s social life. I almost wish we were back in England doing this – we’d be the talk of the season.”

Constance sighed. “We most certainly would. But this is definitely not England.”

“No, it’s not,” Imogene agreed. “You’d best remember that. Maybe Duncan wants to come home and have Clear Creek simply be Clear Creek. For all we know he can’t wait to get out of England.”

“This England. Is it bad?” Arya asked.

“No, no, my dear,” Imogene said. “But the responsibilities and duties of a duke and duchess are many. Coming back to Clear Creek is a far cry from those responsibilities and duties. I daresay they could use a good rest. I don’t blame them for wanting to come home for awhile.”

“You don’t think anything’s wrong with the estate, do you, Cousin Imogene?” Constance asked.

“I haven’t a clue, my dear. We won’t know until they arrive and we ask them.”

“Do all duchesses shoot a gun?” Arya inquired.

“Heavens no, my dear!” Imogene said. She looked at Constance and Eloise. “Could you imagine the scandal? Good heavens, you don’t suppose the duchess has shot anyone, do you?”

Constance and Eloise exchanged a quick glance. “Oh dear,” Eloise said. “I hope not.”

“If you had shot someone, would you tell everyone in your hometown?” a male voice asked. The women turned in their seats to find Seth Jones standing a few feet away. “Seems to me everyone’s making an awful big fuss over this visit. What say you concentrate on the wedding first?”

“We’re trying,” said Imogene. “But one must admit this visit of Duncan’s is exciting.”

“Or at least distracting. Now, Eloise, what was it you wanted?”

Eloise blushed. “We wanted to know where to put the tables after we clear the dining room out for the dance we’re planning for Their Graces.”

Seth laughed, then looked at Arya. “At this rate you and Newton may never get married. Maybe we should combine your wedding with this dance, just to make sure it gets done?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Constance agreed.

“No, it most certainly isn’t!” said Eloise. “Let Arya’s wedding be Arya’s wedding. She’s never had one before and won’t be having one again. Would you want some stuffy duke invading your wedding day?”

“Oh,” Constance said, bowing her head. “I suppose not.” She looked up and met Arya’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess I got a little carried away. This really
is
the most excitement we’ve had around here.”

“Other than Cutty’s announcement last month,” Imogene added.

“That had nothing to do with socializing,” Constance pointed out. “A dance, on the other hand, has everything to do with it!”

“As does a wedding,” Eloise added.

Imogene smiled and turned to Arya. “My dear, your wedding and the duke’s visit are going to be the social events of the year. Have your husband explain that to you when you see him.”

Arya smiled and nodded, but had no idea what they were talking about. But she was sure Newton would.

“
S
ocial event of the year
?” Newton said with a snort. “Women. I’m glad I was never part of that sort of thing in England. Horses were much better company.”

“What do you mean?” Arya asked. “The women are very excited.”

“You mean my
cousins
are,” he corrected.

“No, everyone. All the women are happy about the dance.”

“And are they as happy about our wedding?” he asked.

Arya’s eyes became downcast. “Sometimes.”

He sat next to her on the settee in their room. He was still shocked at the level of excitement Duncan Cooke was kicking up. “Are you disappointed they’re not as excited about us?”

Her eyes met his and she shrugged. “I do not know.”

He smiled. “Don’t give me that, of course you know. But it’s all right. At least with the duke and duchess coming, people won’t have time to think about how long we’ve gone without a proper marriage license.”

“There was a woman at the sewing circle who made …” She waved her hand in a circular motion as she tried to think of the right word. “… a fuss.”

“A fuss? What sort of fuss? What did she say?”

“She used a word I am not familiar with.”

“What word was that?” Arya licked her lips. He could tell she was hesitant. He cupped her face with one hand and kissed her gently. “What word, darling? Don’t be afraid to tell me.”

“
Shameful
,” she said, her tone of voice indicating she knew the word couldn’t be good.

He sat back and sighed. “Did anyone else use the same word? Or words such as
sinful, scandal
,
scandalous
, not to mention
burn in h
–”

“No, no one else used any of those words. Only the Fig woman.”

Newton started to chuckle. “Oh, yes – Fanny Fig. I know just whom you’re talking about, and I know better than to worry about what
she
says.” He pulled Arya into his arms. “Don’t let it bother you, sweet. We’ll be married soon, then no one can talk.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “All the women were very happy that we are to marry here. So happy that sometimes they forgot I was there.”

Newton laughed. “Well, my dear, the women of my people do get excited about these things.”

“I do not understand. We are married already, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are. But among my people, the wedding ceremony is very important. Some women think it the most important event of their lives. Like … like when one of your young men makes his first kill while hunting. It says he is a man now, equal to the other warriors. That’s what a wedding is for many women here. To go through the ceremony is to become one of the wives, and eventually one of the mothers, of the … of the tribe.” He wasn’t sure he was explaining it well, but it was the best he could come up with.

It seemed to satisfy her. But she had another question. “This Duncan Cooke … he is from this town. And he is also royalty? That is what the women said.”

Newton thought about it. “Yes, that’s pretty much the case. You see, in England there is a king or queen that rules over the whole land like a tribal chief. Then there is a … well, we call it a ranking order. Your people have a chief, then the war chief, then the best warriors, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Someone must be in charge to keep our people safe.”

“In the same way, we have a king or queen – or both – then their children, the princes and princesses, and then the dukes and duchesses who rule over parts of the land for the king and queen. Duncan is one of those dukes, and Cozette his wife is one of the duchesses. They’re like war chiefs, but also serve as chiefs over smaller parts of the tribe.”

Arya’s eyes widened, trying to take it all in. “Oh. So what the women told me is true – he is very important.” She pondered this, then asked, “What comes after a duke?”

“Well, then there are marquesses, then earls, then viscounts and barons and baronets and knights. England is a very large tribe, so to speak, so it needs a lot of chiefs,” he added with a laugh.

“Which one are you?” she asked, gazing into his eyes with admiration.

Newton almost snorted again. “None of those, I’m afraid. I was nothing but a … a servant.” The word pricked his pride, and it was all he could do not to look away. “You, on the other hand, are a princess among your people. Am I right?”

To his surprise, she looked away. What was
she
ashamed of? “I was raised by the chief of our tribe, that is true. But … I was never one of them.”

“They raised you, darling. Of course you’re one of them.”

“Newton,” she said and met his gaze again. She held up her hands. “Look at me. I have the skin of your people.”

“Your skin is not much lighter than those of your tribe, my dear. In fact, I would love to study your tribe in depth if I could ever find any information on them.”

“Depth? What is this depth?”

“Finding out more than what I already know.” He sighed. “A lot more, in this case. It would help me to understand them better. Understand you, just as you’ve been learning to understand my people.”

“Your people are strange to me,” she admitted.

He pulled her into his arms and chuckled. “Then you won’t mind me saying that yours are strange to me. So that makes us even. But enough of all this.” He bent his head to hers and kissed her. “I don’t know about you, darling, but I’m terribly hungry.”

Arya put a hand over his heart and smiled.

S
everal hours later
, Arya fixed her hair and made herself presentable again. Newton, having already done so, approached her from behind as she stood in front of their dresser and wrapped his arms around her. “Do you know what time it is, darling?”

“I do not have a … what is it called? A watch. And if I did, I do not know how to read it.”

He nibbled at her ear. “No, sweet, that’s not what I meant. It’s tea time.”

Arya smiled and turned to face him. “Ah, that is what you meant. Will there be others there?”

“You should know by now it’s different every day. One never knows who will show up. Let’s go downstairs and find out, shall we?” He offered her his arm.

She smiled as he escorted her downstairs and into the hotel’s dining room. Several tables were already occupied by the townspeople, including a table full of men. Arya had never seen any of them before. “Newton, who are they?”

“I’m not really sure. They do look familiar, though. Maybe they’re from the men’s camp outside of town. That’s where Amon used to live before he married my sister.”

“Why have we not seen them?” she asked.

“With all your lessons, we haven’t had the time to venture very far from Clear Creek. I’m sure we’ll get around to it. But I think we’ll be too busy over the next couple of weeks, don’t you?”

Arya smiled mischievously. “You are going to sew my wedding dress with me? That would keep you busy.”

Newton laughed as he led her to a table and pulled a chair out for her. “You have a wry wit, my dear.” He sat, glanced at the table with the men, and an older gentleman waved at him. “Yes, those must be the chaps from the men’s camp,” he commented. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember their names. They obviously remembered who he was, though.

“Well, how are you doing this afternoon, honey?” Mrs. Upton asked as she approached their table with the tea cart. “I made your favorite cookies today.”

“How delightful, Mrs. Upton. Thank you ever so much.”

She beamed and started to serve them. “Nothing like a good cookie and some tea in the afternoon. I might have to sit down and join you. Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” he said. “You’re more than welcome.”

She served herself and sat. “I don’t know why I don’t do this more often.”

“By all means, you should. As often as you wish. I don’t think anyone stands on ceremony here.” He glanced around the room. “Looks like you have quite a crowd today. Tell me, who are those men over there? I’m embarrassed to say I can’t remember their names.”

“That’s because they don’t come into town that often. Most of them are hired hands for the local farmers and ranchers. The oldest one is Jasper – he’s the cook out at the men’s camp. The younger fellow sitting next to him is Louis Cartwright – hasn’t been out there very long. He showed up about the time your sister and Amon began courting. I don’t know much about him, other than he’s from the Washington Territory.”

Newton studied him. He couldn’t be much older than Newton himself, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. “What about the fellow sitting next to him?”

“That’s Hugh Fielding. He’s been around quite a while.”

“Ah yes, I recall seeing him now and then.”

“I hear tell he’s one of the men that brought the church bell to town a few years back,” she said.

“And the others?” Newton asked, indicating the last two men with another nod of his head.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell you,” she said. “I’ve never seen them before. I was so busy earlier serving everyone that I didn’t get a chance to meet them.” She paused, then added, “You could always go introduce yourself.”

Newton tried to keep the shock off his face. Sally Upton not introducing herself to a table of handsome men was astounding. Then he noticed that several of them were looking at him. Maybe they were thinking the same thing … no, wait. They weren’t staring at
him
– they were staring at Arya.

That brought something to mind. “Mrs. Upton, whatever happened to Clinton Morsey?”

“Oh, him,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you’ll remember, after Cutty clobbered that dirty varmint over the head with Irene Dunnigan’s ladle, Sheriff Hughes locked him up for disturbing the peace – among other things a lady ought not to discuss.”

“I can only imagine … but what happened after that?”

“You mean you don’t know?” she asked in surprise. “Oh, but how could you? You weren’t around much after that.”

He glanced at Arya, who was happily sipping her tea, oblivious to his worries. “No, I’m afraid I wasn’t.”

“That’s okay, honey – you had a good reason for staying away,” she said with a wink. “Well, Sheriff Hughes let Moresy out and he ran out of town as fast as he could. No one’s seen or heard from him since, not even the boys at the men’s camp.”

“Are the men at that table the only ones living out there?”

“As far as I know,” she said. “They must’ve all gotten paid or they wouldn’t be here. This is kind of a luxury for them.”

“I see,” he said. No wonder they were staring at his wife. They’d never seen her before and probably didn’t know she
was
his wife. Or maybe they did. He took a sip of his tea and tried to think. If these fellows were all looking for work at one time or another, would Ryder hire them? He’d better ask, and soon. Otherwise he might be out of a job, and where would that leave him?

A
fter tea
, Newton left Arya with Imogene and his father and went to search for Ryder Jones. He found Constance first, sitting with Eloise on the sofa in the hotel lobby and embroidering. “Dear cousin, where might I find your husband?”

Constance looked up from her work. “He’s probably loading the wagon down at the mercantile. In fact, he’d better hurry if he wants to get home. Otherwise we’ll all be spending the night.”

“Thank you.” Newton tipped his hat and went out the hotel doors.

Sure enough, Ryder’s wagon was parked in front of the mercantile. “Howdy, Newton,” he called as he came down the mercantile’s porch steps, his arms loaded with packages. “You ready to start work?”

“That’s what I came to see you about,” Newton informed him. “That and several other things.”

Ryder dropped his load into the back of the wagon. “What sort of things?”

“To be honest, I need to know how much work you can provide me. I have a wife to take care of now, and …”

Ryder held up a hand to stop him. “I got plenty for ya, and I ain’t the only one. I think the Cookes are lookin’ for more men.”

“The Cookes? I had no idea they were hiring. Ranch work, cattle or horses?”

“I know horses are what yer good at, like me, but if workin’ with cattle’s all they got …”

“Yes, I should take it. It’s just that under the circumstances, I might find more work in Oregon City.”

“Oregon City? What ya wanna go there for? Your home is here.”

“As is my family, but with a wife I’m going to need money and a roof over my head. I can only take advantage of Mr. Van Cleet’s generosity so long. What happens when Arya and I suddenly find ourselves with a child on the way?”

“Then ya deal with it,” Ryder said with a shrug. “Just like I am.”

Newton’s eyes widened. “Is Constance …?”

“No, not that I know of, but I’m preparin’ for when she is. That’s why I wanted to build my new house now, rather than wait for a youngun to come along first.”

“A wise decision, to be sure. But you had something to start with, you’ll remember. Othello’s a fine animal – who wouldn’t want to breed their mares to him?”

“Yeah, he’s a good piece of horse flesh, all right,” Ryder agreed. “I see yer point though. You can start working for me tomorrow if’n ya like. I gotta few things ya can do.”

What pricked his pride earlier nicked him again, and Newton inwardly cringed. “That being the case, I need to know how much work so that I can make plans. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Better than ya know. Ya might want to check with Harrison or Colin next time they’re in town – or better yet, ride out to the Triple-C and ask ‘em. As I understand it, the boys from the men’s camp were plannin’ on goin’ out there tomorrow, prob’ly for the same reason.”

“I see,” Newton said, studying the ground. The message was clear: if he didn’t hurry, there would be no work at all. No wonder all the men were in town. Perhaps they’d finished everything the local farmers had for them and were trying to get as much as they could before winter set in.

“I can tell you one thing,” Ryder said. “I got work for ya, but not the kind yer thinkin’ of. Not the kind that can support a wife in style.”

“I’m not concerned at the moment about style – just about keeping a roof over her head and food in her belly.”