Ophelia: A Valentine's Day Bride (Brides of Noelle, Love For All Seasons Book 1) by Kit Morgan

Author:Kit Morgan [Morgan, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-10T05:00:00+00:00

Clint went to Nacho’s for breakfast the next day. He enjoyed talking with him and liked his insights. When he returned to the saloon, it was to find the alleged reverend sitting at a table against one wall, a series of papers spread before him. He shook his head in disgust, but approached nonetheless. “Morning.”

Hammond looked up from his work. “Good morning, Mr. Jones. Care for some coffee?”

He might as well get this over with. He certainly hoped the man wasn’t going to take another stab at getting him a woman for the night. Maybe he should tell the man who he was – wouldn’t that be a shock? “Sure, why not.”

The preacher raised his hand. “Seamus, could you bring this gentleman a cup of coffee?”

“Right away, Reverend,” Seamus replied and headed down the hall behind the bar.

Clint watched him go, then turned back to the preacher. “Been doing business here long?”

The preacher glanced at the papers in front of him. “Well, I just started working on this project.” He glanced around with a smile and lowered his voice. “We’re looking for talent, you see – give the men a chance to really strut their stuff.” He leaned toward him. “For a hundred dollars in gold.”

Clint stiffened. He could take Hammond elsewhere, throttle him quietly, grab Miss Rathbone and get her out of there before anyone else was the wiser. But no, his mind was running away from him. He would just have to face facts. He did his best to keep his jaw from locking, as it often did when he was angry. But he had to know something. “And is Miss Rathbone involved in this?”

“Of course. Who do you think is getting the word out?”

Clint stopped breathing and swallowed hard. “And how long will she be working to do that?”

“Most of the day, I’d imagine. But she and Felicity will have to prepare things first. You know, make everything look pretty enough to attract the men.” He glanced at some old miners across the saloon. “Especially the ones less likely to perform well.”

Clint followed his gaze, his eyebrows heading for the ceiling. “You mean to say that Miss Rathbone and … her friend are going to try to entice all the men in town?”

“Of course,” Hammond said happily. “That’s their job, after all. Besides, they volunteered.”

Clint couldn’t help it. He sat back, looking horrified.

“If we’re really lucky,” the preacher went on, “some of the women in town will join in too.”

Clint heard himself squeak in alarm. Mortified, he stood. “Where is Miss Rathbone now?”

“Out taking care of business. Why?”

“You sent them out to do their … their work?”

“Of course – how else are they to cover all that ground? Not everyone comes in here, you know.”

“Just the two of them?” Clint asked, not caring at this point what expression was on his face.

“Two’s enough. They’re hard workers.”

“Oh good Lord!” Clint pinched the bridge of his nose.

Hammond stood. “Mr. Jones? Are you all right?”

Clint wanted to hit him, and it was all he could do not to.

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