The Beginning (Gold Rush Brides Book 1) Read online

From inside the press, he said, “Well, as ye’ve found out, Dell, a handful o’ skill is better ’n a bagful o’ gold. Seems t’be plenty o’ gold in California, but a shameful dearth o’ skill. So yeah, I s’pose I hold meself in pretty fair esteem right ‘bout now.”

  Delilah couldn’t help but be charmed by his honesty and charm. “So do I, Aidan. So do I.”

  “Hey! What are you two doing back there?”

  Jack craned his neck trying to spot them. Delilah moved to stand so he could better see them, but Aidan stilled her with a touch.

  “Let ‘im wonder a minute. Do ‘im good.”

  “Why?” she asked, puzzled.

  “Make ‘im jealous. Don’t tink I ever seen Jack jealous a’fore. Fascinatin’.”

  Jack was pushing his way through boxes of parts and stacks of paper, searching for them. It was a small shop but he seemed strangely agitated.

  “See?” breathed Aidan.

  “Over here, Jack,” she cried, waving a hand. Turning to Aidan, she whispered, “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. What on earth would Jack be jealous about?”

  She didn’t see the sly grin on Aidan’s face as she got up to meet Jack, nor did she hear the one word he hissed.

  “Me.”

  Chapter 10

  “You know, I been thinkin’,” Jack said, looking up from doublechecking Delilah’s typesetting.

  “Uh oh,” she teased. “Jack’s been thinking again.”

  The last few days had been more enjoyable than she believed possible. Working hard to start this venture was more exciting — and much more arduous — than she’d ever imagined but she finally felt as if she was doing something important. Life as a banker’s wife might have its own sort of meaning, but it wasn’t one she was interested in. Not now that she’d had a taste of entrepreneurship.

  But self-fulfillment wasn’t the only reason she was enjoying herself. Once she got to know Jack a little better — or rather, once he allowed her to get to know him — he was quite amiable. He was a quick study and just as quick with a laugh. Very little frustrated him, except when customers came in to place advertisements.

  Word had spread like wildfire that there was a new paper in town that could find a man a good wife. With the scarcity of fine women in the west, men filed through the shop all through the day. When the little brass bell over the door jingled, Jack would go sit quietly behind his desk while she dealt with the men. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was listening to every word though.

  “Wha’ have ya been tinkin’, Jack? Dat Dell here is da prettiest little ting west of da Mississippi? ‘Cause dat’s what I tink.” Aidan touched the greasy tip of his finger to her nose and made a little ‘bop’ noise. Not wanting grease all over her face, she pulled away but couldn’t help being pleased at his compliment.

  “No,” Jack said irritably.

  He realized an instant too late that he’d inadvertently insulted her so he backpedaled.

  “I mean, yes. I mean, no! That’s not what I meant! Oh, lordy, what have I stepped in now?”

  Laughter filled the shop, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence these days. When it had died down, Delilah managed, “What did you mean to say, Jack?”

  He gathered up some papers from his desk and moved next to her at the type table. He was standing so close she could feel heat radiating from his body and the sensation sent tingles up and down hers. His rugged musk nearly made her head spin.

  This unexpected reaction was happening with more frequency than she cared to admit, but the tight quarters and long days forced her to endure them in uneasy silence. She was grateful that they lived in the same house so he could escort her through the rough streets of town in the wee hours of the morning, but spending so much time with him was affecting her senses.

  “These display ads are ones your father sold, right?”

  At her tense nod, he continued. “Why not sell some to San Francisco businesses? That would mean more income, right? Or is there something I’m missing, being a dumb ol’ horse wrangler?”

  The one thing Jack wasn’t was dumb, but he liked to pretend he was. She wasn’t sure if it was to let her feel superior or if it was to keep expectations low, but all she knew was that it was a ruse. He was smart as a whip and she was happy to finally have him on her side.

  “I think that would be wonderful, but there’s just one problem. We don’t have a salesman.”

  Smiling broadly, Jack stepped back, spread his arms wide and took a low bow. “At your service, m’lady.”

  “You?”

  “Why not?”

  She had no good answer. At this point, he knew just as much as she did about their venture, and while he was no good at dealing with the men searching for wives, he could be very persuasive in all other respects. It was actually a brilliant idea, and she was irked that she hadn’t thought of it first.

  At the very least, it would keep him busy and out of her hair while she set type, a task she adored but which took a tremendous amount of focus because each letter was backward. Strange that he found it a chore but it suited her so perfectly.

  Delilah dug through her desk and found a rate sheet her father had sent along with his package of advertisements. Jack plucked it from her ink-stained fingers and whistled.

  “This is what you got paid for this stack of business ads?”

  Stepping close in to him, she straightened his shirt collar — being careful not to leave ink stains — and dusted off his shoulders, not that they needed it. But she was powerless to stop herself from brushing her fingers down his strong arms and breathing him in.

  He gazed down at her, reaching up to gently wipe away the smudge of grease left on her nose by Aidan’s finger. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, leaving a trail of fire across her skin, until it reached her chin. With the slightest pressure, he tilted her head up. His eyes were locked on her lips and his own parted slightly.

  “No,” she squeaked, stepping back to collect herself and break the spell he had on her. “No, that’s what my father was paid. That was his fee for distributing the paper. But I think it’s a fair rate, don’t you?”

  Clearing his throat, he nodded and moved away from her.

  “I ain’t gonna argue, ‘specially if folks actually pay it. I’ll get rollin’ on this right now.”

  Before he reached the door, Aidan sauntered up to the front and leaned against Delilah’s type table.

  “So y’tink it’s safe t’leave me ’n Dell alone all day, do ya?”

  Jack’s hand paused in mid-air as he reached for the door handle. Without turning around, without moving a muscle, he said in a deadly cold voice, “I think you’re both safe as church mice on this stretch of street.”

  Aidan’s grin could be heard in his voice. “Not what I meant, Jack.”

  Delilah was confused, and her head bobbed between them trying to figure out the puzzle.

  “What did you mean, Aidan? Do you think we might be in danger here? I never thought—“

  Jack turned his dark gaze on her, sending a shudder down her spine. “You’re perfectly safe here, Dell. Ain’t that right, Aidan.”

  It wasn’t a question, and Aidan’s curt nod must have communicated a lot more than Delilah understood, because with a jingle and a slam, Jack was gone.

  ~*~*~

  “I done it!” Jack burst through the shop door, holding a brown leather bag of gold and a pile of papers, grinning so hard he thought his face might break in two. “I sold ten ads!”

  Dell whirled around at her table, typeset in her blackened fingers, and gasped.

  “Ten?! You’ve only been gone an hour! How on earth…”

  Before she could finish, Jack pulled her into his arms and spun her around in circles, hollering at the top of his lungs. He didn’t give a hoot if she was scandalized, he just needed to celebrate and he couldn’t think of a better way than by pressing up against the body of a pretty girl.

  Of course, when Fanny tried to wave him down on hi
s way back to the shop, he acted as if he didn’t see her, so not just any girl would do. He was dead set on whooping it up with Dell. She was working so hard on the paper that she needed to let off a little steam. And letting off steam had never felt so good.

  He barely felt her delicate slaps on his shoulder as she scolded him to put her down. But she was laughing all the while, so he knew she wasn’t mad. When he finally set her back on her feet, her cheeks were the prettiest shade of pink and she was swaying dizzily.

  “You brute!” she cried, slapping at his chest but missing. He chuckled as she stumbled to her little desk and tumbled into her chair.

  “Maith go leor, Jack!” Aidan was wiping his hands on a filthy rag as he walked up front.

  “Did you just curse me in Garlic, Aidan?”

  Aidan laughed good-naturedly. Jack could never remember how to pronounce his native language.

  “Gaelic, Jack. Means congratulations.”

  “How did you get so many so quickly?” Dell asked, still pink in the cheeks from their twirl around the room.

  “Ha! It was easier than I thought,” he said, pulling up a chair and straddling it backward. “I just went down to The Eagle and caught up with a few fellas I know. Degenerate gamblers, most of ‘em, but they’re also upstanding citizens with gold to burn on advertisin’. I just stood up on a table, told ‘em all I’d buy a round for the house if I could have their ear for two minutes and then told ‘em all about why they should advertise. Before I was even done, three men were lined up waitin’ to give me their gold. After I bought a second round for the house, the rest nearly broke out in a brawl to get signed up!”

  “Right brilliant, Jack!” Aidan clapped him on the back with a greasy hand and cut his eyes sideways at Dell. Her face was drained of color and she looked like she’d just bit into a lemon.

  Jack’s smile faltered. “You feelin’ poorly, Dell? Did I spin ya too hard?”

  A lock of her chestnut hair tumbled out of her bun when she shook her head. If she didn’t look so upset, he would have thought she was quite fetching with her hair mussed like that.

  “No, it’s just…I thought…I’m just surprised your first stop was the saloon. I imagined…” she trailed off.

  “What did you imagine?”

  “I thought you’d do what salesmen do. Call on different businesses on an individual basis. Present your proposal. Ask for the sale. That sort of thing.”

  Jack was stumped. Seemed like an awfully drawn-out manner to get the thing done. His way yielded ten sales in a matter of minutes. He shrugged, unperturbed by his slight breach of conduct.

  “Never been a salesman before. Didn’t know there was rules. Just thought results was all that mattered.”

  Her nodding head seemed to be agreeing with him, but something about her manner seemed off, like she was sad about something.

  “Yes, of course, you’re correct. I just…the saloon? I didn’t realize you still frequented it anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t say I ‘frequent’ it so much lately. I mean, we’re all here together till the wee hours working on this thing. Don’t barely have time to sleep, much less carouse. But once this first issue gets out, maybe then—“

  “Jack, tell us ‘bout yer new clients,” Aidan interrupted, grimacing at him.

  Why did he keep making faces at him? Was he having a fit of some kind? It didn’t matter because he was so excited to tell them about his windfall.

  “I got three health elixirs right away. You know the kind, ‘Dr. Oddfellow’s Sleep Tonic’ and all that kinda balderdash? Tell ya a secret, it’s all just booze. Then a furrier, a furniture seller, a dentist and two haberdashers signed on. Funny enough, the last two were a jeweler and a divorce lawyer!”

  Guffawing at the irony, he slapped his knee and rocked back, nearly tipping himself to the floor. Aidan joined in but Dell only smiled tightly.

  “Well, commendable job, Jack. You’re very resourceful. I never would have thought such a variety of customers might be found in such an…unexpected place, especially so early in the day. Now if you’ll excuse me, Aidan thinks we’ll be ready to start printing later tonight and I have a fair bit of setting to finish up.”

  Jack was crestfallen at her stiff nod and retreat to her blasted typesetting table. He thought she’d be more excited about his sales, maybe shower him with praise and kisses. He would have been satisfied with the praise alone. But this was lukewarm at best. What the devil was wrong with this woman? He cast a quizzical look at Aidan, who shook his head in disappointment.

  “Jack, if me ol’ duffer was here, know what he’d say? May ya have da hindsight t’know where ya been, da foresight t’know where ya goin’ and da insight t’know when ya gone too far.”

  Jack watched slackjawed as Aidan disappeared behind the press. What was wrong with everyone today?!

  Chapter 11

  Whatever tension there had been when Jack returned from selling ads dissipated quickly enough. At first, Delilah had been shocked that he found their new clients at the saloon, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. It was where he’d spent most of his time since returning from the diggings, after all. It was only natural to sell to men he knew, and who knew him.

  Not that she fancied the idea of him spending time there. Who knew what kind of mischief a man with a pocket full of gold and a dozen new friends could get into? She didn’t intend on finding out. After this first print run was finished, she would have to sit down and teach him the proper way of doing business.

  But that was later. Right now, Aidan and Jack were all smiles, waiting for her to place the galley into the forme before starting the press and printing the first edition of The Nuptial News.

  She’d never been this excited in her life. Not when she boarded the ship in Boston, not when she finally ended her journey in California, not ever. This had been her idea, her plan and almost all her doing. Of course, she could never have gone this far if it hadn’t been for Jack, as much as it vexed her to admit it.

  Her desperation to see her project through had nearly been disastrous. If Jack hadn’t foiled Browne’s plan to drink and gamble away her money, all would have been lost. If he hadn’t hired Aidan away from that awful Mr. Kimble, they would never have managed to get the press in running condition. And if he hadn’t taken a keen interest in the paper and its success, they wouldn’t be ready to print.

  As she set the galley in place, she backed up next to Jack. He put a reassuring arm around her shoulders while Aidan moved to start working the press. This was it! The moment she’d been waiting for, the one they’d all worked so hard for. Any moment now, he would pull that lever and the first copy — or at least the first pages — of The Nuptial News would be ready to fulfill the dreams of its advertisers. She clutched at the hand dangling from her shoulder and held on tight.

  The jingle of the door’s bell startled them. It was close to ten at night — a customer would never come in so late. In the dim lamplight, Delilah could make out the figure of a woman, but most of the lights were at the back of the room, where the press was, not up front. Irritated at the interruption, she grabbed one of the lamps and marched toward the front of the shop to see what the woman wanted.

  “Ohhh, Jaaaaaa-aaaack. Where’d you run off to this mornin’?”

  The syrupy sound of Fanny Sweet’s voice stopped Delilah in her tracks. Her blood ran cold and she turned her icy gaze toward a surprised Jack. First, how did this woman know where to find Jack, and second, what precisely did she mean by ‘this morning’?

  “Fanny! What the devil are you doin’ here, girl?”

  Fanny snorted drunkenly and had to catch herself on the doorjamb or she might have toppled over. “He finally got my name right. Lord have mercy, I think Imma gonna faint!”

  Giggling like a schoolgirl, she stumbled farther into the shop. Jack snatched the lamp from Delilah’s trembling hands and rushed past her. He grabbed Fanny’s upper arm and tried to turn her around but it only served to
knock her off balance so she stumbled and fell to the floor.

  “Jack!” Delilah wasn’t fond of the woman, but there was no need to treat her roughly. “Let her rest a moment.”

  “Yesh, Jack, lemme resht a mo—“ A hiccup interrupted her mockery of Delilah.

  Regardless of her obnoxious behavior, Delilah rushed to her side to help her into a sitting position. Fanny studied her face intently and a devilish grin spread across her once-pretty face.

  “You’re that Price woman, ain’tchya?”

  Anger bubbled up inside Delilah and she could no longer hold her tongue.

  “Yes, and you were the one who advised me to hire Franklin Browne for my printing needs. The same Franklin Browne who later gambled away all the gold I’d paid him.”

  Fanny broke out into a fit of laughter. Falling backward until she was lying on the floor, she started pounding it with her fists in glee.

  “Oh, that was a good one, t’weren’t it, Jack? Jack? Where’d you go?”

  “Here, Fanny,” he sighed, pulling an arm until she was upright again, her head lolling to one side.

  “Oh, Jack. I wish you wudda stayed longer this mornin’. I miss you…”

  She clutched at him, pulling him closer. Delilah wanted to tear the woman’s hands off him but instead inched away from the scene. Jack kept glancing at her but she refused to meet his gaze. This was his mess to clean up.

  “You come back with me t’night, m’kay?” she pleaded, watery eyes begging for him to say yes.

  “Now, Fanny—“

  She started giggling again. Changing her voice to a hoarse whisper that echoed through the shop, she said, “Wouldn’t it be funny to steal two of her men?” She ducked her head into Jack’s chest as he tried to wrangle her into an standing position.

  The words struck Delilah as odd. Two of whose men? Hers? She didn’t have any men, never had. Yet, something was nagging at the back of her mind. She put a restraining hand on Jack’s arm.

  “Wait. What did you mean by that, Miss Sweet? Whose men?”