Spring Creek Bride (9 page)

I
da awoke to the sound of shouting and pounding on the door. She followed on Papa’s heels down the stairs, fearful of whatever news awaited them.

Carl Walken stood there, gasping for breath, with a lantern in hand. Even with only the tiny flicker of the flame inside, Ida could see that the man was shaking.

“There’s trouble in town, Mr. Mueller,” Carl said.

“What sort of trouble?” Ida asked.

Carl gestured for them to step out onto the porch. Though the sun had not yet risen, an eerie glow lit the skies, and the smell of smoke filled the air. Ida turned back to her father, eyes wide. “Fire!”

“Where is it?” her father asked, concern etched on his brow.

Carl couldn’t respond for a second as he continued to fight for air.

“Mick Bradley’s place?” Ida asked.

He nodded. “After all the work we did getting the building up. The whole thing’s burned to the ground. Such a waste.”

A fierce trembling began in Ida’s knees and quickly moved up to consume her whole body. “Th-the mercantile?”

Carl shook his head. “Doesn’t look to be much damage there. The west wall is scorched, but I believe it’s external only. And I think a couple of windows have blown, but they’re easily replaced.”

“My sister and nephew?” her father asked.

“They’re safe, Mr. Mueller. That’s one of the reasons I came by, to let you know so that you wouldn’t worry. But we’ll know more about the mercantile after the sun rises.”

“I cannot wait until the sun rises.” Ida turned back toward the door with tears in her eyes. She managed a frantic prayer, thanking the Lord for Dinah and Carter’s safety. From the beginning she’d argued that they shouldn’t live in town above the store, but Dinah had her heart set on it. If only Papa hadn’t sold that lumber to Mick Bradley, none of this would have happened.

Seconds later she chided herself for such thoughts. Her papa was the finest man she’d ever known, and always had the best of intentions. And likely the men who’d set the fire would have never gotten so riled up in the first place if she hadn’t created such a stir. Oh, was she to blame for all of this? What if something had happened to Dinah or Carter—or Mick?
She brushed away her tears, suddenly more angry at herself than anyone else.

Papa reached over and patted her arm. “I’ll come with you, Ida. We’ll take the wagon.”

Minutes later, they were making the journey to town. The stench of smoke grew stronger the closer they got. Ida covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief and tried to hold back the fits of coughing before they erupted. She could scarcely imagine what they might find in town if the smoke was this thick on the outskirts.

As Papa led the team onto Midway, Ida pulled the handkerchief away and gasped. She’d never seen so many people gathered together like this before. Many of the men still wore their nightclothes. Black soot covered the faces and shirts of many of the others.

She looked in the direction of the mercantile. Thankfully, it remained standing, seemingly unharmed, at least from what she could tell from the wagon.

But where were Dinah and Carter?

When the wagon drew to a stop, Ida scrambled down and began to run through the crowd. She couldn’t find her aunt anywhere. On she went, through the throng of men, in search of her loved ones. She heard Papa’s voice calling out to her but she did not stop.

As she reached the front of the store, another familiar voice rang out above the din. “Ida?”

She looked up to see Mick Bradley. A feeling of
faintness swept over Ida and she grabbed his arm at once to keep from falling.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She shook her head, and her knees began to go out from under her. She felt herself scooped up and carried down the street, away from the crowd. The coughing fits came in force now, and she took the handkerchief he offered.

Embarrassment washed over Ida in waves, along with nausea and dizziness. She struggled against his arms. If only he would put her down, she could find her aunt and cousin.

“Please…please put me down,” she managed at last.

“Are you sure?”

When she nodded, he eased her down, though he didn’t release his grip around her waist.

“I’m fine. I promise.” She waited a moment for the dizziness to pass. “Do you know where Dinah and Carter are?”

“They’ve been taken nearby to The Harvey House,” he explained. “I was taking you in that direction so you could be together.”

“I think I can make it the rest of the way on my own.” She squinted to see through the thick cloud of smoke.

“I’d feel better if you let me escort you there myself,” he said. “Please.” He sounded like a completely different man than the one who’d offered to walk her into town all those days ago. How could she turn him down?

She nodded and he extended his arm. She took it,
if for no other reason than to keep her knees from buckling. Within minutes, they were climbing the stairs to the hotel. He pulled open the door, and right away she saw Dinah and Carter seated in the lobby on the velvet sofa, still dressed in their nightclothes. Carter clutched the puppy in his arms. To Ida’s great surprise, Nellie DeVries sat nearby tending to her aunt and cousin. So did Johnsey Fischer. Ida couldn’t help but notice the look of concern in his eyes as he cared for Dinah.

“Dinah!” She ran to her aunt, arms extended. “I was so scared.” After a lengthy embrace, she grabbed Carter, wrapping him tightly in her arms. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you—either of you.”

Carter’s eyes grew wide. “I saw the flames, Ida! They were taller than the store—all the way to the sky.”

“You’re my big, brave boy.” She placed several kisses on his forehead in haste. “I am so glad you are unharmed.”

Just then the hotel manager appeared with a sheet in hand. Dinah wrapped it around herself to cover her dressing gown. “I wish I could say the same for the store,” she said with a groan.

“What happened to it?”

“The windows on the west wall were shattered during the explosion, and the outside wall is scorched, I’m sure.”

“Explosion?”

“Oh my, yes.” Dinah shook her head. “This started
with the most awful explosion. And the flames were so close.” Her hands began to tremble. “It was terrifying.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“I heard it myself,” Nellie said. “I was in a sound sleep, but the noise woke me up. Took me a minute to figure out where it had come from, but I went running into the mercantile the minute I saw the flames.”

“You…you saved Dinah and Carter?” Ida asked, amazed.

“Well, I would hardly say that.” Nellie’s cheeks flushed. “They were already headed down the stairs. I just offered a bit of assistance to get them out the door.”

“She helped me with Carter,” Dinah said. “And she went to fetch the puppy from out back. Truly, I don’t know what I would have done without her. I could scarcely collect my thoughts, I was so afraid. You know how it is when you’re awakened by something frightening—you can hardly think straight.”

“Yes, I know,” Ida agreed.

Dinah shook her head. “The smell of smoke is bound to have settled into everything porous. There’s no telling how many things in the store will have to be disposed of. The bolts of fabric, for instance. And anything else that might have absorbed the odor.” She shook her head and tears followed. “And we have a lot of water damage, as well.”

“Dinah, I’m so sorry.” Ida knelt down at her aunt’s side and took her hand. “But Papa and I are here now, and as soon as the sun is up, we will start working. I’m sure others will help.”

Mick, quiet till now, said, “I’ll see if I can gather my workers, and they will be at your disposal. Anything you need…”

With a tip of his hat, he excused himself to tend to that task.

“And I’ll talk to some of the girls,” Nellie offered. She bounded from her spot next to Dinah, sprinting toward the door.

Ida looked at Dinah in amazement. “Who would have thought it?” she whispered. “Mick Bradley and Nellie DeVries coming to our aid. Could such a thing really be happening?”

Dinah nodded and a hint of a smile graced her lips. “I have no doubt they are both troubled souls. But clearly they have good in them, Ida. I truly believe they, like others, can be won to the Lord if we simply live the kind of lives before them that exemplify Christlike behavior.”

Johnsey chimed in with a quiet, “Amen.”

Ida felt the familiar tug of shame on her heart. “I think, in my haste, I might have judged them too harshly. And not just Mick and Nellie, either. The railroad men, as well. All of them.” She shifted her gaze downward as she added, “I never really took the time to get to know them as individuals before drawing such stern conclusions.”

No, until this morning they had been sinners, plain and simple. Not even sinners in need of saving. Just sinners in need of, well, a swift kick.

Ida’s thoughts shifted to Mick Bradley and she realized that today was the day they were supposed
to confront him.
The day we were going to try to reason with him about the gambling hall.

Now there was no more gambling hall.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Mick was thinking right now. If his dream had burned to the ground, would he finally succumb to the pressure and board the train north?

Ida found herself hoping against hope that he wouldn’t.

The sun rose, revealing the extent of the damage. Mick stood in the center of the street, looking at what had once been his building. Gone. Not a beam left. Not a stick of wood untouched by the flames. Only the charred slab remained.

He’d awakened to the sound of shouts in the street and had known. In his gut he had known. One glance out the window proved that his plans were indeed going up in smoke.

Strange, the first thing he’d thought about was the folks residing inside the mercantile. As he’d run toward the lot, he had even offered up a prayer, of sorts. If that’s what you wanted to call it. Thankfully, he’d seen Dinah and her little boy right away and had offered assistance. Taking Ida to join them had given him a small sense of purpose, at least for the moment, though he had to wonder what she might be thinking about him now. Surely her opinion of him had spiraled down even more, if such a thing were possible.

Now, staring at the damage on the west wall of the mercantile, he couldn’t help but feel guilty as he contemplated the truth of it. None of this would have happened if he’d just left town when he was threatened.

But Mick wasn’t the sort to turn and run. Never had been, never would be.

Only, where did that leave him now? Likely his investors would not take this news lying down, but neither would they send more money for rebuilding if they heard the particulars. No indeed. They were more likely to insist that he return their money or build elsewhere.

Anger gripped Mick’s heart as he surveyed the damage. He should have paid attention to the mood of the town. Many people didn’t want this hall. Hadn’t Ida said as much? And hadn’t others in town been all too clear about their feelings? A sense of failure washed over Mick.

He had no doubt where things stood. A few more minutes of staring at the charred rubble clarified that point in his mind. He would never convince his investors to try again in a town like this. The risk was too great.

Still, as Mick thought about Spring Creek, as he contemplated the fact that the town—or at least one of its residents—had somehow lodged in his heart, he could hardly imagine boarding the train.

He’d just have to figure out another way to satisfy his investors. Because he had no intention of leaving Spring Creek as long as Ida was still here.

T
he next few days were spent working to clean up the mercantile. Ida watched, humbled, as Johnsey, Mick and several of the other local men labored alongside her family members, emptying shelves, washing everything down with soap and water and replacing the missing windows. Nellie stopped by to bring food and water for the workers. Surely Ida had judged them all too harshly, just as she’d told Dinah the morning of the fire.

She prayed about her hasty judgments, asking God to forgive her. Still, in spite of His gentle nudging, she could hardly forgive herself. Many times Mick looked her way with a pained expression in his eyes. She read the guilt there. He felt responsible for the damage to the mercantile; that much was obvious. But would he give up on the gambling hall now, after all that had happened? That decision was in the Lord’s hands. No longer would Ida make suggestions, one way or the other.

By Tuesday afternoon all the men had gone back to their regular jobs—all but Mick. Ida secretly wondered why he lingered in the shop, looking for things to do. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as the store finally reopened for business. He seemed to celebrate with the others, smiling as he welcomed folks at the door.

Ida pushed a few loose hairs out of her face and surveyed the store with a keen eye. Yes, it would be some time before new bolts of fabric arrived, and certainly the smell of smoke lingered in the air, but folks still came, as always. In fact, some arrived in haste, anxious to make their purchases.

“Glad to see you back up and running,” Orin Lemm said, as he purchased razor straps.

Ida thanked him, and sent him on his way with a smile, pleased for the business.

“You’ve done wonders with the place, Ida,” Mrs. Gertsch said with a smile as she traded in her homemade candles for sugar. The older woman then leaned in with a smile and whispered, “I missed coming in to see you.”

Ida knew the older woman missed their conversations. And Ida had missed them, too. In fact, she’d missed nearly everything related to the running of the store.

“That Johnsey Fischer is a nice fellow.” Mrs. Gertsch gave an admiring smile. “I’ve enjoyed having him at the house. There’s nothing like a man’s voice in a place to make it feel like a home.”

Just then Johnsey let out a laugh and Dinah, who stood nearby, turned to him with flushed cheeks.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Mrs. Gertsch whispered. “Dinah is smitten.”

Ida contemplated Dinah and Johnsey as she turned back to her chores. Her aunt did seem to act a bit strange when Johnsey was around, but they scarcely knew each other. Just a few short days, was all. Why, she and Mick had known each other longer than that and they hardly gazed at each other in such a way.

Ida looked up and met Mick’s eyes. Her stomach did a strange little flip and she felt her own cheeks flush with color. Perhaps Dinah wasn’t the only one who was smitten after all.

Midafternoon, Sophie and her mother stopped by to drop off a pan of corn bread and a pot of pinto beans.

The influx of townspeople with food in hand reminded her of when Mama had died. So many people had swept in around her, trying to heal her broken heart with potatoes, venison and the like. She hadn’t been able to consume much of it back then, but this time around she and Dinah delighted in each new dish.

Ida turned to Mrs. Weimer with a smile. “Thank you so much. You will never know how much this means to us.”

“Oh, posh.” Sophie’s mother gave her hand a squeeze. “Just be sure to share with the menfolk,” she said, nodding at Mick. “He looks like he’s been working hard.”

“And I dare say he’s more handsome than ever,
even with his hair all mussed up like that,” Sophie said, grinning at Ida. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ida looked over at him. “He has many admirable qualities.” Ida released a lingering sigh. “In spite of my earlier thoughts on the matter.”

“Indeed he does,” Sophie said, giving Ida a playful wink and heading off in Mick’s direction.

Mick turned to face Sophie with a smile, and Ida’s heart lurched. As she watched her friend chatting with Mick, a mix of feelings coursed through her, feelings she had not anticipated—and yet could not seem to control.

Mick watched Ida as she closed up shop for the day. She looked tired, he thought. Understandable, given the fact that people had been in and out of the store nonstop, all day long, spending generously. It moved him, to see how everyone in Spring Creek pulled together to lend their support.

Ida glanced his way as he swept the floor. “Are you hungry?”

He grinned at her. “Starved. What’ve you got in mind?”

“Sophie and her mother brought some corn bread and pinto beans earlier,” she said. “Dinah’s upstairs warming them up, and she wanted me to extend an invitation to supper.”

“Really? You want me to stay?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“I’ll admit, it won’t be as good as Myrtle Mae’s
cooking,” Ida confessed, “but it’s a free meal, and one you’ve rightly earned. We’d be happy to have you.”

Mick readily agreed and within minutes they were all seated at Dinah’s table in the upstairs kitchen, eating mushy beans and chasing down dry corn bread with large glasses of cold milk. As they ate, Dinah and Ida talked through the events of the day, commenting on the various people who’d come in and out of the shop.

Mick found himself thinking about a comment one of Brewster’s men had passed his way while in the store this morning. Another threat.
Be on the afternoon train to Centerville or there will be a price to pay.

It was as if Brewster and his men knew he wanted to stay in Spring Creek. But even he didn’t know yet what to do about The Lucky Penny. He had to send word of the fire to his investors, but he couldn’t do it until he had a plan.

The women continued to talk, oblivious to his ponderings. Mick finished up his bowl of beans and leaned back in his seat, giving Dinah a smile. “You do quite a healthy business here. And your customers are loyal, to say the least.”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “I’ve known many of these folks for years. And the locals—the ones who were born and raised here—will do anything to help out when there’s a need. It’s always been like that.”

“Until the last few years,” Ida added. “When the Great Northern came through, I honestly thought our little town would never recover from the shock. But
it looks like I was wrong, and I’m happy to admit it. It would appear the fine folks of Spring Creek, Texas, still know how to lend a helping hand to a family in need, and for that I’m so grateful.”

Dinah whispered a quiet, “Amen,” and Mick almost joined her. Right now, seated here with these two women, watching Carter ladle beans from an oversize spoon into his mouth…Mick almost felt right at home.

“It’s going to be dark out soon,” he said to Ida, nodding toward the window. “I’d be happy to walk you home.”

Her face reddened. “Oh, that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” She started to push back her chair and he stood to assist her.

“Let me walk you as far as the tracks,” Mick suggested. “I’d feel better if I knew you weren’t walking through town with the sun going down. It’s just too dangerous.”

“He’s right, Ida,” Dinah agreed. “You’ve stayed much later than usual, and there’s no telling what sort of trouble you could run into along the way with the men so riled up. I’d feel so much better if you let Mr. Bradley walk you home.”

Ida tried to argue, but Mick—to his great pleasure—managed to stop her before she declined his offer. They said their goodbyes and headed down the stairs and out onto Midway. Mick took note of the fact that Chuck Brewster’s men were gathered in a cluster in front of The Golden Spike. He pushed aside
the uneasy feeling that took hold, though he couldn’t seem to shift his gaze.

The men looked his way as he and Ida turned in the opposite direction. Mick focused his attentions on the beautiful woman to his left, determined to protect her from these ruffians.

They made their way to the edge of town and beyond the tracks. He felt sure she would stop him there, telling him she could make it the rest of the way on her own, but she did not. Instead, they talked easily and at length as the sun settled into a heavy sky off in the west. All too soon they arrived at Ida’s house.

“I’m so grateful for your time,” Ida said. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He wanted to say so much more—to tell her how sorry he was that he’d been the cause of so much trouble, to say that he’d figure out a way to make it right. And yet…

As he gazed into Ida Mueller’s beautiful eyes, as he studied the color of her hair and the sound of her voice, Mick felt torn between two worlds. Part of him longed to link arms with this Southern beauty, walk her to church and join her as she fought to defend her town. Another part of him wanted to rebuild the gambling hall, give it another go, see if he could make things work—for his sake and the sake of his investors.

Oh, if only he could live in both worlds at once.

“Good night, Mr. Bradley.” She opened the front door and took a step inside, then turned back to give him a smile that nearly sent his heart into a tailspin.

With a tip of his hat, he turned back toward town.

As Mick made his way along the road, the vibrant colors of the setting sun faded into a haze of gray. Night began to fall around him, shadows hovering overhead. As he reached the roundhouse, a feeling of unrest came over him.

Something felt…wrong.

Off in the distance, just beyond the building, Mick heard what sounded like hushed voices. Then footsteps. Walking. Then running.

As the sound drew near, he inhaled deeply. He was torn between wanting to run and needing to defend himself. Still, as the darkness swallowed him whole, neither seemed like a viable course.

Mick felt the first hit.

And the second.

By the time the third one came, everything had faded to black.