Norah- A St. Patrick's Day Bride Read online

  Norah ignored the old woman’s screams as she packed her few belongings, grabbed her cloak, and paused briefly at the door.

  Her aunt grabbed the banister rail and peered down at her. “You leave now, child, don’t think my charity will be here when you discover that I was right about your low-life, drunk of a husband.”

  Her raised voice followed Norah as she opened the door. “I’ll not take you in again,” her aunt bellowed.

  The world outside seemed to look different. It suggested freedom and new adventure. Her family had sent her to this county for a better life. The life she’d been living was not truly living and it had nearly succeeded in suffocating the dreams she’d once shared with Seamus.

  Norah took a deep breath. Freedom smelled wonderful. This was the start of a new day. “Goodbye, Aunt Mary-Margaret. You won’t have to worry about me returning.” She closed the door to the old woman’s agonizing pleas.

  It was a long walk to the station. She’d passed by a vendor and bought an apple or two and a small loaf of bread for her journey, but with only one bag and a new adventure in front of her, her load was light, her mood lighter.

  She was not able to afford the luxury of a sleeping car but was all the same in awe of the extravagance of the passenger cars with their high-back padded seats and polished wood interior. Finding a window seat, she was exhilarated by the panoramic view of the countryside as the train left the city. She thought of Seamus and how he must have felt looking out as the towns gave way to rolling prairies, some dotted with farms, but much still open and untamed. What dangers had he faced on his journey? Was it wise for her to travel unescorted? Would Seamus worry about her if he knew she was on her way? The thought gave her pause. She left without returning a response. He had no idea she was on her way. Even with Mrs. Kinnison’s glowing description of him, how might he have changed in these past years? She’d mentioned how well respected in town he was. Would she be enough for him now? Norah glanced at her chapped hands, raw from washing, her fingernails short and worn from scrubbing floors. She touched her cheek void of rouge, dry from constant exposure to lye soap. She’d have to guard her heart. Much may have changed with him in four years apart.

  She was not naive to a man’s needs—his physical needs in particular—and she was certain there’d been plenty of women available who would have succumbed to Seamus’s charms. Had she not been held a virtual prisoner in her aunt’s home, she, too might have been tempted. Norah’s thoughts flitted to her recent friendship with Father Timothy. Though he was a man of the cloth, he was still a rugged example of the type of man who held her attention. In many ways, he’d reminded her of Seamus, most especially the passion he held for his dreams.

  Three days later, she changed trains in St. Louis, astounded by the bustling town. Two days to Denver still lay ahead on this leg of her journey.

  According to the conductor, from Denver she would take another train going west to a small place called Junction. When she asked the conductor, she was told that it was barely a town, but Noelle would be apprised of their arrival and usually have their stagecoach waiting to pick up passengers on to the bustling silver mine town.

  Usually? Norah glanced up from her reading and noticed two men seated at the end of the passenger car. One man leaned his head against the wall, his mouth open, and snoring loudly. The other eyed her with interest that she did not welcome. She straightened her shoulders and lifted the bible higher in view, hoping to deter his attention.

  In Denver she made quick time in changing trains, keeping watch over her shoulder to be certain the two men hadn’t followed her. Stepping up into her car, she realized that several more passengers had filled it. Searching her options, she found an empty seat directly across from an older gentleman and a young woman who appeared to be his daughter. The other option was the seat across the aisle from the two men she’d hoped to avoid. “Is this seat taken?” she asked.

  The young woman looked up and smiled. “Please, we’d love the company. This is my first experience on a train.” Excitement made her blue eyes sparkle. She wore a frock that matched her eyes and her raven hair was worn in a thick braid covered by a matching blue bonnet. Her clothing suggested her traveling clothes were as new as her experience. “I’m Libby Rose Campbell, and this is my father, Deacon Garrett Campbell. We’re on a mission for the Methodist church in Denver.”

  Norah sat down, careful to keep her hands shielded by her father’s bible in her lap. “I’m Norah Malone. I’m traveling to Noelle to meet my husband.” Whom I haven’t seen or spoken to in four years.

  “Pleasure, Mrs. Malone.” The large man nodded. He frowned then and narrowed his gaze. “Did you say Noelle?”

  “Aye, sir. My husband is employed there.”

  “I see. One of the miners, perhaps?”

  “Father,” his daughter scolded.

  “It’s quite all right. It’s true many Irishmen did come out here hoping to stake claim to gold. But my husband is a businessman, and if the letter I received from a Mrs. Genevieve Kinnison…I believe that was her name….” She pulled the letter from her worn reticule. “Yes.” She unfolded the note. “If what Mrs. Kinnison says is true, he has become a well-respected businessman.”

  Deacon Campbell smiled and tipped his head. “You must be very proud. There’s no doubt in my mind it’s true, if Genevieve says it’s so.”

  “You know Mrs. Kinnison?” Norah did not mask her surprise.

  “She was married to my nephew at one time. After his death in the war, my sister and Genevieve came to live with us in Denver. She soon became involved in the Benevolent Society of Lost Lambs, a mission developed when it was shown a need for a place where women might find shelter and support when there is nowhere else to turn.”

  “My condolences for the loss of your nephew,” Norah said. “This mission is in Denver, you say?”

  “It’s funded primarily through donations from the congregation and a few private donors,” Libby interjected with a smile. “We’re very proud of the work the mission has done in placing women with upstanding men. That’s how Genevieve came to be in Noelle. Last Christmas she brought twelve women to Noelle and successfully placed most of them in happy marriages.” She smiled at her father. “Including her own marriage to Mr. Kinnison. Her abilities as a woman inspired me to go to school, and now it is my hope to go out west and teach one day.”

  “Genevieve has been an inspiration to us all back in Denver,” Deacon Campbell said. “Aside from meeting her new husband, we’re going out to Noelle to look at the possibility of building another home for the mission to serve the women in the area.”

  As impressed as Norah was with the mission, she prayed she would never have need of it.

  Chapter Three

  Seamus drummed his fingers nervously on the table. He sat across from the single most powerful businessman in the town of Noelle. Charlie Hardt, his boss and savior in some ways, and owner of many business ventures in Noelle including the silver mine, sat peering closely at the proposal Seamus had written with great effort.

  “Well, now.” Charlie glanced at Seamus. “This is mighty ambitious.”

  Seamus knew this was his moment to sell his idea. He needed this partnership--needed something that would show Norah that what Genevieve had written about him was true.

  “Aye, Mr. Hardt. Surely, you’ve seen the numbers of miners comin’ to town and no doubt they’ve families waiting to come ‘n join them. Those who are single will mostly certainly capture Mrs. Kinnison’s eye and that of your good wife, once they get their mission built.”

  Charlie Hardt cleared his throat, chewing on that thought. “Mrs. Kinnison’s effort, along with the Denver church mission has done a great deal to save this town, I can’t deny that.”

  “Indeed, sir, brought you yer lovely wife, to be sure,” Seamus said and stood, hoping to offer a better perspective. “Think of it, sir--the Nugget the premiere hotel and saloon in Noelle.” He gestured to the stairwell. “We’d add
more rooms and decorate them fit for our state’s dignitaries. I’m thinking Jack Peregrine and Zeke with their carpentry skills could help expand the saloon to one side and we could add a small dining room for hotel guests on the other side.” Seamus described in great detail his bold vision. “Over there, we’ve kept that stage we used last month for the talent show and I’m thinking why not make it bigger, add lighting, and some fancy curtains like you see in the opera houses in places like Denver and Chicago.”

  Charlie cocked his head and studied the tiny stage at the other end of the saloon. “Why can’t we just use the stage we have?”

  Seamus understood the man’s misgivings. Charlie liked making money, and he wasn’t a skinflint. But he’d have to have good reason for investing the amount of money required for the expansion Seamus envisioned. “You’re right, sir. It’s ambitious. But Noelle is growing by leaps and bounds. And we…the Nugget…need to grow along with it.” Seamus shrugged. “Or else someone else is going to come in and take advantage of the opportunity here.”

  Charlie narrowed his gaze as he looked around the room.

  Seamus held his breath, a hopeful smile on his face as he let the vision take hold in the Texas-born entrepreneur’s mind.

  “No, you’re right, we wouldn’t want to give some claim jumper a chance to steal off with our best assets. We have to mine the opportunity ourselves, make an investment in our future,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought.

  “Aye,” Seamus said. “That’s why I think we should start building as soon as we’re able.”

  “Hallelujah! Am I finally going to get that church you been promising me?”

  Startled, Seamus looked over his shoulder just as Reverend Hammond walked into the saloon. The smile on the pastor’s face couldn’t have gotten much wider.

  “This is serendipitous news.” The reverend’s smile faded as quickly as he’d arrived. “I don’t remember having a meeting today. Did I miss something?” Reverend Hammond pulled out a chair, sat, and dropped his hat on the table. “You happen to have any coffee made, Seamus?” he asked.

  It was midday on a Friday afternoon. Most of the men were up in the mines. He glanced at Charlie, who appeared increasingly uncomfortable with the turn of events. “I do. Comin’ right up. A strong cup of coffee is a fine idea,” Seamus said, and hurried to the kitchen. Hastily, he filled three cups from the pot that had been on the stove most of the day. He had hoped to get back before Charlie had time to explain they’d not been discussing a new church.

  Too late.

  Seamus brought in the cups of steaming coffee, wishing he’d added whisky to them.

  “Charlie. Seriously? We’re not talking much. Just a simple one-room building with a pulpit, a steeple, and a few pews. I’d even be willing to add tables in there for a schoolhouse, if Noelle should ever come by getting a teacher.” Reverend Hammond sat back and crossed his arms over his chest

  “Here we are, gents. Left out the whisky, though, unless you….” Seamus attempted to defuse the tension with a smile.

  The reverend dismissed the offer and took a sip of coffee and his scowl grew deeper.

  Seamus sat down. “I take it then, Charlie’s mentioned my idea regarding the Nugget expansion?”

  The reverend looked from one man to the other. “What I’m hearing is my church is being delayed again.”

  “Simmer down, Chase.” Charlie lifted his hand. “I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. I think you should hear, for the sake of discussion, what Seamus has to say.”

  “Thank ye, Charlie.” Seamus cleared his throat. “On the bright side, Reverend, it would solve yer room issues by giving you and yer wife more privacy.”

  Reverend Hammond shook his head. “Now, Seamus, you know the missus and I are mighty grateful to be living rent-free upstairs in exchange for performing Sunday church services, but since we’ve been married,” he said, shaking his head. “Privacy has proven to a challenge.” He grimaced. “And the ruckus down here on Saturday nights—Lord have mercy.”

  Seamus nodded, fueled with the desire to convince the reverend that he would benefit as much from the proposed idea.

  “What I’ve proposed to Charlie is an expansion that will benefit the town. With the new rail road, there will be more people. More people who will need a nice place to stay when they are visiting.” He paused before continuing. “I’d like to expand the Nugget into a fine hotel with more rooms, rooms that are spacious and finely decorated. We’d still have the saloon, of course with a bit of spit and polish to refine it, as well as add in the Nuggets own opera house.”

  Reverend Hammond’s coffee spewed from his mouth. He swiped his hand over his chin. “Opera house?”

  Seamus raised his hands. “More of an expansion of our current stage, really.”

  The preacher swung his gaze to Charlie. “You’d expand this saloon before building me a church?”

  The reverend was not taking kindly to the idea. He stood and braced his hands on the back of his chair. “I don’t need to remind either of you how important it is to have a religious base in any community.” He shook his head. “And God knows I’ve tried. And I didn’t mind so much when it was just me. But I have a wife now, fellas. And she deserves a place of her own—a place where she doesn’t have to listen to the hootin’ and hollerin’ going on every night.” He glanced at Seamus. “No offense, Seamus.”

  Seamus dismissed the reverend’s apology, pretty much right along with his proposal. The silver mine profits were steady, but there wasn’t yet enough to cover the expenses of building a church, a rectory, and renovating the saloon.

  “And another thing. I’ve noticed the men, especially the miners, aren’t interested in Sunday services,” he said. “They’re more interested in the card games held here on Sunday afternoon.”

  “I understand your point, Chase,” Charlie said, trying to soothe the pastor’s ruffled feathers.

  “And with Noelle growing so fast, we’re going to need to accommodate the folks coming to town who may be interested in staying here, maybe opening a business.” Seamus leaned forward to remind Charlie of the importance of his proposal, hoping the desperation he felt wasn’t coming through in his voice.

  Reverend Hammond nodded. “While I do agree with you, Seamus—truly, I do—you must remember who instigated the idea of bringing in brides to prove to the railroad folk that Noelle was a viable, progressive community.”

  Seamus leaned back in his chair.

  “But the fact remains, I am a married man now and my bride deserves a home,” the reverend added.

  Charlie cleared his throat. “, that promise included only a church.”

  “Well, now, Charlie, where’d you think we’d live? Do you expect us to sleep on the pews?”

  Seamus could count the number of times on one hand that he’d heard the preacher raise his voice in frustration. “Reverend, you wouldn’t need to sleep on pews with the nice room we could offer you with the renovations,” Seamus interjected.

  “Gentlemen.” Charlie held his hands up to defuse the escalating discussion. “Enough, now.” He glanced from one man to the other.

  Seamus knew that Charlie was a fair man, a devout man, but the Texas-born entrepreneur had a soft spot when it came to the possibility of making money. Still, Seamus knew that Charlie would research every angle to a gnat’s eyebrow before rendering a decision.

  “Charlie,” Reverend Hammond said, and not without heavy disbelief.

  “Mr. Hardt, sir.” Seamus pushed his case. He needed this partnership in writing. Something that he could show Norah to prove that he owned--if only in part--his own business.

  Charlie tapped the pages of Seamus’s proposal and folded them in half. Standing, he tucked them in his jacket pocket. “What we have here are two very good ideas. Both would benefit Noelle a great deal, though in different ways.” Charlie looked from one man to the other. “But, unless we can find a way to pay for both, we can only afford one project at a time.”
r />   Seamus met the reverend’s gaze.

  “I trust the two of you will think on this and together we might find a workable solution.” Charlie grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “I like to think of Noelle as one big family. Sometimes we need to make sacrifices for one another for the good of all.”

  Seamus sighed. He couldn’t in good conscience dispute that the reverend hadn’t been doing a heap of sacrificing these days, especially since taking a new bride. Seamus nodded. “I’ll see what ideas I can come up with on my part.”

  The reverend smiled. “And maybe I can get Felicity to come up with a fundraiser to help with the church.”

  Charlie grinned. “Now, that’s the kind of town spirit I like to see.”

  Reverend Hammond stood. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, my lovely wife and I have been invited to the Kinnisons’ for afternoon tea. Apparently, Genevieve has news she wishes to share.”

  At that moment, Felicity Hammond appeared at the top of the saloon stairs. She was a beautiful, refined woman. It gave Seamus pause to consider the pastor’s concern. It also made him wonder how Norah would feel about living above the saloon at least until he could afford to build them a proper house. He stood as she descended the stairs and took her husband’s arm.

  “If you gentlemen are finished, I’d like to steal my husband away for a bit.” She smiled at him, and the exchange between the happy lovers made Seamus’s heart ache.

  “Ready when you are, my dear,” the reverend said, steering her toward the door.