Joy on This Mountain (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) by Kestell Vikki

Author:Kestell, Vikki [Kestell, Vikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Faith-Filled Fiction, A Division of Growing Up in God
Published: 2013-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

The faces around the table that evening were grim as Joy related what happened. Mr. Wheatley, red with shame, was beside himself. “It’s my fault, Mrs. Michaels! No way should I have left you here while I went to play checkers!”

Joy put her hand on his and said gently. “Mr. Wheatley, what would you have done if you had been here? Two against one . . .” She let the implications go unspoken without bringing up his age, but he was not fooled.

“I might be just an old man but, but I can handle a gun!”

Joy grew stern. “No, Mr. Wheatley. I’ll not have you doing that. You are not here as a bodyguard, like Billy is. You are here to help us manage the lodge. We need you for that—we cannot do without you for that. No, I will take the sheriff’s suggestion and hire another man for security. And we will strictly follow our own rules—none of us goes anywhere alone. Am I understood?”

She addressed everyone at the table. “I know old habits are hard to break, but also please remember that I am known as Joy Thoresen now, rather than Michaels.” Billy and Mr. Wheatley, who were the ones who frequently forgot, both nodded. “I’ll start interviewing for another ‘handyman’ as soon as possible.”

Joy immediately took to the first young man sent by the sheriff. Flinty introduced them formally. Domingo Juarez was small and wiry and quick as a cat. Moreover, his dark brown eyes were respectful and kind. He spoke in a soft and confiding way to her during the interview.

“I think I know what you do here, señora.” He gestured around him to include the lodge. “Some of us hope you will help more girls. Many Corinth peoples know that man and what he does, but the Corinth—what they call? city clerk and some hombres de nogocios--the businesses peoples—are in that man’s pocket.”

“They’s in his pocket, all right,” Flinty agreed with vigor.

Joy couldn’t stop herself. “Er, what man?”

Domingo’s eyes flashed. “It was Judge Brown, señora. That is how it started. He was malvado—evil man, and his wealthy cómplices in Denver were just as evil as him. But we did not know that then, did we?”

Flinty, chewing a toothpick thoughtfully added, “Tha’s right, Miss Thoresen. First Judge Brown, he opens a savin’s ’n’ loan in Corinth. An’ folks all a-thinkin’ it were a great cornvenience, being able t’ bank their money right here ’stead-a in Denver. They ’preciated that he was investin’ in our little town.”

Young Domingo frowned. “Then other bad things start to happen, ver’ secretamente.”

“Yup. Real quiet-like. No one s’pected what was goin’ on at first,” Flinty said. “Judge Brown bought them two nice houses—and made ’em even bigger! And fancy? Nothing else like ’em way up here in these mountains. Can y’ figger what one man would be wantin’ with two big houses? No sir! But then we started seein’ them city swells comin’ up on the train t’ visit those houses.”

He nodded his head sagely.

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