Denton's Bride (Runaway Mail-Order Bride Book 1) Read online

  Terrance’s expression turned dark. “Miss Mills has money – maybe not as much as my father, but she still has money. Just ask her parents.” He pointed toward the hallway.

  Denton glanced out the study’s door and noticed a middle-aged couple sitting on a bench in the spacious hallway. The man sat straight, wearing a stern expression. His wife dabbed her moist eyes with a handkerchief. “They are the girl’s parents? What are they doing here?”

  “Today was when Father and Miss Mills were getting married. Miss Mills had planned to arrive early to have the servants take her trunks up to her room. She also needed help getting her hair fixed and dressed.”

  “Did anyone see her this morning?” Denton asked, still keeping an eye on the upset parents. Mrs. Mills was quite lovely, even though she had a pale, teary face. The woman’s hair was dark blonde and curly. The man’s hair was brown and didn’t really have any striking qualities that Denton could see. If Miss Mills took after her mother in looks, he was sure the daughter would be a real beauty.

  “Mr. Tibbs, Father’s butler, was the one who let her in the house.”

  Denton couldn’t imagine having so much money that he needed a butler just to answer the door. Being a working man all of his life, Denton followed in his own father’s footsteps and held jobs. After all, people needed to work for what they wanted.

  Denton met his friend’s stare. “Was the butler the only one to see her that you know about?”

  “Yes. At least that is what I heard the sheriff say.”

  “Then, I’ll question the butler next.” Denton glanced around the room again, and once more in the hallway. “Who found your father this morning?”

  “Rebecca, one of the maids.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “She might be in the kitchen. I overheard the cook telling her that she needed to get something to eat so that she could handle what has happened.”

  Denton kept himself from chuckling. Nobody else but a cook – or a grandparent – would tell someone that. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to discover who killed your father.”

  Before Denton could turn to leave, Terrance grasped his arm, stopping him. The man’s glare was piercing.

  “Denton, I already told you who did it. If you find Courtney Mills, you’ll find the killer.”

  “My friend, I promise to check out everyone’s alibi. I won’t leave any stone unturned.”

  Terrance nodded. “I appreciate your help. I’ll make sure you’re paid well.”

  For the next couple of hours, as Denton asked the butler, Rebecca, and the parents of the bride questions, in the back of his mind, Denton had a feeling there was more to this story. He still couldn’t figure out why a woman would kill the old man before the wedding. There was no motive, that Denton knew, which meant he really needed to find Courtney Mills as soon as possible. She’d already gotten a good four-hour headstart on running away.

  Soon, he mounted his steed and rode away from the house, watching the ground closely. The young woman’s parents told him what buggy size she had, which meant the wheels wouldn’t be very thick. As he followed a set of tracks away from the estate, he noticed they turned in a different direction, off the main road. Thankfully, it had rained lightly early this morning, and the ground was still muddy in spots.

  He rode his steed hard, zipping around the trees, trying to imagine how Miss Mills had been able to do this with her buggy and horse. A few times, Denton nearly gave up, doubting that the woman could have maneuvered a vehicle through this part of the woods, but then another wheel track showed up, and so he continued traveling.

  It was almost dusk when he rode into a small town. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he should eat to keep up his strength for the journey ahead. A thought nudged him that Miss Mills might have stopped here for food, as well, but then he doubted she would stick around for fear of being found. Then again, traveling after dark would be dangerous for a single woman, so he prayed his instincts were correct in that she was still nearby.

  As his horse trotted through town, he eyed the buildings closely, not only searching for a place that would serve him food, but also for the woman he was hunting. Her parents had given him a miniature of their daughter, and Courtney Mills was a very pretty lady. That would make it easier to spot her.

  He passed a preacher who was advertising mail-order brides and trying to get women to sign up. Denton rolled his eyes. It surprised him that men were either desperate or didn’t enjoy the thrill of courting. Why else would they want to find their future wives quickly? Denton couldn’t count how many women he had considered proposing to after courting them for a few weeks, but then he finally decided none would want him to continue his career as bounty hunter since he’d rarely be home.

  Three women walked by the preacher, and the man of the cloth hurried toward them. When the women noticed him, they quickened their pace to pass the man. Denton was sure the preacher was a nuisance to the town.

  “Please, let me tell you about this wonderful idea,” the preacher called out to the women in a loud voice. “Being a mail-order bride will not only help these men, but it will help you, too. These men will take care of you, and all they ask in return is that you marry them and help them with their homes and children. This is a great opportunity for women to start a new life in a new location.”

  A thought popped into Denton’s head, and he yanked on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop. Start a new life? Immediately, he thought of Courtney Mills. If the woman were truly on the run, how desperate would she be to become a mail-order bride? After all, why would she leave one unwanted marriage, only to enter into another? However, his gut feeling told Denton to check it out, just in case. After all, he wasn’t going to leave any stones unturned, as he’d promised Terrance.

  Denton moved past the preacher, still looking for a place to eat, but for some reason, his gut wasn’t pushing him toward food any longer. Instead, the further away he moved from the preacher, the more interested Denton became. And since he had always followed his gut...

  He yanked the reins around, guiding the animal toward the man of the cloth. When the tall man holding a Bible noticed Denton, he stepped away from his wagon, narrowing his gaze.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Denton began, stopping his horse. “I hope you’ll be able to help me. I’m looking for a woman.”

  The preacher started chuckling. “Am I to assume you want me to find you a mail-order bride, too?”

  “No, not really. I’m looking for a woman that might have come into town sometime today. If she did, I’m sure you would have seen her.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Miss Mills. She’s a pretty woman with darker blonde hair.”

  The preacher frowned and scratched his chin. “I have seen several lovely women today.”

  “She would have been driving a one-horse buggy.”

  The preacher’s eyes widened. “I helped a lady sign up to be a mail-order bride, and she was driving a buggy. But her name was Miss Peters... or Parker, or something like that.” He motioned to his wagon and the table out front with papers on it. “She did sign her name, though.”

  Denton dismounted and followed the man to the table, pulling his horse's reins so the animal would follow. The middle-aged man bent over the sign-up sheet with several men's names, but only a few women’s signatures.

  “Oh, here it is. Miss Parker.” The preacher straightened. “I’m sorry, but there is no Miss Mills on my page.”

  Denton should turn and leave, but... how often did a lovely woman with blonde hair drive a buggy by herself, and was new in town? Suddenly, he realized he had her picture, so he fished in his coat pocket and pulled it out.

  “This is the woman I’m looking for.” He showed the picture to the preacher.

  The man’s eyes lit up, and he smiled. “Yes, this is the woman I helped. Miss Parker.”

  Excitement filled Denton, but he held it inside. Just because this man talked to her di
dn’t mean she was still in town. At least Denton was heading in the right direction. “What do you mean you helped her?”

  The preacher pointed to the sign-up page. “She is going to be a mail-order bride.”

  Denton wanted to laugh, but for the moment, shock was the emotion inside him. Why would she do something like that, unless... Perhaps she was guilty of murdering Albert Greenwood, and she needed to disappear. Could be why she used a different last name. “Has she already met with her soon-to-be husband?”

  “Doubtful.” The preacher held the Bible to his chest. “She is supposed to send the man a telegraph and wait for his answer to meet with him.”

  “Will they meet here in town?”

  “Probably.” The preacher shrugged. “Unless the man pays for her to travel to where he lives. It all depends on what arrangements they make.”

  Denton stuffed Courtney Mills’ picture back in his coat pocket. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

  “Who are you, sir, and what business do you have with the young miss?” The preacher arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m someone who is determined to help her.”

  As Denton headed toward the telegraph office, ideas spun in his head. If Miss Mills had meant to become a mail-order bride, then she’d stay in town until hearing back from her soon-to-be husband. And if she had money, as Terrance suggested, then the woman would have gotten her a room at one of the hotels here in town, especially if she had to wait to hear from the man who she’d marry.

  As he neared the telegraph office, the man inside was starting to close down for the night. Denton hurried to the window, hoping he wasn’t too late.

  “Pardon me, sir.” Denton pulled out the miniature picture of Courtney Mills. “Have you seen this woman? Has she been here to send a telegraph to a man...” He quickly remembered the man’s name that she’d signed next to. “Mr. Timothy Graham?”

  “Yes, she has been here.”

  Denton’s spirits lifted. “Have you already sent it?”

  “Of course. I’m very fast.”

  Gritting his teeth, his mind worked through ideas of how to stop her from meeting with Mr. Graham, but nothing clever was popping into his head. “Do you know how long it takes before getting an answer?”

  The older gentleman shrugged. “It varies, but the man she sent a message to lives in Texas. I told Miss Parker to come back tomorrow, but I doubt she will hear that soon.”

  He breathed easier. The woman must have found lodging... which meant she wasn’t going to keep running. However, she would be watchful of someone looking for her.

  Denton reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill and slid it to the clerk. “Do me a favor. Don’t let her know I was here asking about her.”

  The man grinned, showing him brownish-yellow teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  Chuckling, Denton nodded. “Thank you.”

  As he walked back toward his horse, his mind was more at ease with the situation. Miss Mills would stay here until she heard from Mr. Graham, and until then, Denton needed to figure what action to take with her. He had no real proof that she killed her fiancé. All she did was run, and that just made her look guilty. Yet, he really doubted that she killed the old man. Then again, he’d have to look into her eyes and read her expression as he questioned her. That would be how he’d know for sure.

  He mounted his horse and glanced up and down the street. He really needed to find a place to eat and a place to stay the night. Suddenly, he remembered his cousin, Clark Turner, who worked as the foreman on a ranch. Clark always had an open invitation to visit, and since he and his wife, Pearl, didn’t live very far from here, Denton decided to visit with his cousin for a bit at the Blue Creek Ranch. After all, Clark was always helpful with ideas on how Denton could catch his runaways.

  He grinned. He was sure Clark would have a humdinger of an idea.

  THREE

  COURTNEY MILLS STEPPED out of the hotel, wearing a dark gray gown, hoping to give the appearance of a widow. Her bonnet had light black netting that fell over her face, and she had pulled her hair back into a chignon. Since she had to wait around town for a few hours – hopefully, not longer than twenty-four – she must appear that she was in mourning. That was the only way to keep busy-body women of the town from trying to talk to her. Smaller towns seemed to be friendly, and although this wasn’t the smallest town she’d been in, neither was it the largest.

  The sun shone brightly this lovely morning, giving her a ray of hope that things would go as planned. Last night, after shedding tears of relief for being able to get away from an unwanted marriage – and away from people who would probably blame her for their father’s death – Courtney realized that her new life had just been shown to her. The preacher advertising for mail-order brides must have been a sign from God. If that were the case, then she must believe that everything would work out for her.

  The first thing she did was stroll down the boardwalk, looking at everything the town had to offer. It was relaxing just to enjoy herself, especially since her time would be limited for these pleasures since marriage would put a stop to them. From what she could see, there were two barbers, three saloons, and one very large livery, along with the normal shops that she was used to seeing. Her favorite places had been the mercantile and millinery, but she enjoyed a spending spree at the jewelers on occasion.

  Many people moseyed along the boardwalks, and as time passed, the streets became busier. Courtney tried not to make eye contact with anyone, but occasionally, her attention met with someone she passed. The men usually tipped their hat and smiled. Most women gave her a nod, but they didn’t smile very much. They seemed too busy to get from one store to the next.

  Courtney’s life had been easy. Her parents always had servants to do the cooking, washing, and cleaning. Courtney even had a maid to help her dress and fix her hair. Not that she needed one, but Courtney at least had a friend. Her parents wouldn’t allow her to associate with anyone else but people of her class, which was why she had been sent to one of the best boarding schools for girls in California, but once she returned to live at home, she had no other friends other than the servants.

  She wandered into a clothing store and moved to the rack of the lovely blouses. She didn’t need any more clothes, but she must keep her mind busy before she went mad from waiting to hear from Mr. Graham. The telegraph clerk told her to check back later today, even though the man acted as though she probably wouldn’t hear from Mr. Graham until tomorrow.

  A sky blue blouse caught her interest, and she lifted it off the rack. Since blue was her favorite color, it was difficult to pass by anything lovely that held this color without admiring it. As she studied the silk blouse, she imagined what skirt would complement this garment the most.

  “Are you about ready to come out of mourning?”

  The woman’s voice startled Courtney, and she jumped and quickly spun around. A woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties gave Courtney a polite smile. She tried to ease the fast beating of her heart by breathing slower.

  “Um, yes. I am.”

  The woman with wild red hair nodded. “I was in mourning once, and I recall counting down the days. Honestly,” she folded her arms and stepped closer, “I don’t know why they make us wait so long.”

  Courtney sighed. “That’s exactly what I’ve been wondering, too.”

  The woman gingerly touched Courtney’s arm. “Was it your husband?”

  Trying to keep her best melancholy expression, she nodded and took a shaky breath. “It’s been very difficult to bear.”

  “Indeed, it is.” She motioned toward the rack of clothes. “And you’ve picked the best way to deal with it.”

  “Thank you.” Courtney turned back toward the clothes, hoping the woman would see that she didn’t want to talk about it. But as she turned, she bumped into another person. The sudden contact made her drop the blouse.

 
“Pardon me, ma’am.” The man bent and lifted the garment off the ground.

  As he straightened and she looked into his face, she nearly lost her breath. Heavens, he was sinfully handsome with those incredible green eyes. And when he smiled, a dimple flashed in his cheek. Indeed, he would be a hard man to resist. Thankfully, she wouldn’t see him after today.

  He brushed his hand across the garment as if making sure it was wiped clean from the fall, and then he handed it to her. “Forgive me for knocking this out of your hands.”

  “No, it was my fault entirely.” She tried not to stare into his eyes for very long for fear of becoming entrapped in their depths.

  He gave her a full smile before tipping his hat and stepped past her. Courtney breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t like the other woman who wanted to chat. Men usually weren’t like that anyway, so she had nothing to worry about.

  As she mulled around the shop a while longer, she kept from making eye contact. Already, she’d talked to too many people in this town. She still feared that Albert Greenwood’s children might send the law after her, thinking she’d killed their father. They all hated her, and she would never make them see that she was just a victim, too.

  Her mind argued with itself, telling her that the sheriff would come looking for her soon. Yet, she thought she’d covered her tracks so that they wouldn’t be able to follow her. Hopefully, by the time the sheriff was led to this town, she’d be long gone and married to Mr. Graham.

  And she hoped the preacher would be gone, too.

  Noon came, and Courtney returned to the hotel and went into their large dining room for lunch. She quickly found a table and sat. Although the place looked busy, a server came to her table within five minutes. Courtney ordered the soup of the day and a slice of homemade bread with jam. She also ordered some tea.

  After the server left, Courtney cautiously glanced around at the other patrons. It was difficult to keep her eyes downcast, only because she was bored of doing that. Besides, studying people would help keep her mind busy while waiting for her food to arrive. The day wasn’t passing nearly fast enough, and she was running out of things to do.