A Bride in the Bargain.pdf

CHAPTER

ONE

Seattle, Washington Territory

April 1, 1865

ATTENTION BACHELORS! Due to the efforts of Asa

Mercer, you can now secure a bride of good moral

character and reputation from the Atlantic States

for the sum of $300. All eligible and sincerely

desirous bachelors assemble in Delim & Shorey’s

building on Wednesday evening.

Joe Denton scoffed at the ad and scanned the rest of the page. The

lopsided ratio of men to women once again illed the columns of

the Seattle Intelligencer .

Glancing at the mantel clock, he shifted on the maroon-and-

gold sofa, then read the next page. The troops at Hatchers Run

now had a series of signal towers along their entire line and almost

every movement of the rebels could be observed. If Lee were to

fall back in an effort to overwhelm Sherman, he would ind Grant

thundering close upon his rear.

The door to the parlor opened and the head of a small,

DEEANNE GIST

brown-haired boy poked around its edge. “I thought that was you

I saw coming up the walk. You here to see my pa?”

“I am.”

Sprout Rountree stepped inside and hitched up his short pants,

revealing scuffed knees. His stiff white shirt was untucked, grass-

stained, and torn at the elbow.

“Looks like you’ve had a hard morning,” Joe said.

Sprout puffed out his chest. “I’ve been practicing to be a lumber-

jack, just like you.”

“You have?”

A grin split his freckled face. “I have. I chopped down Mama’s

tree out back all by myself.”

Joe hesitated. “That sapling, you mean? The Chinese pistachio

your mother ordered from the Sandwich Islands?”

“I dunno. Just a minute and I’ll show you.”

He darted out of the room and returned in another minute

holding what was left of his mother’s pride and joy.

Joe swiped a hand across his mouth. “When did you do that,

son?”

“This morning. I used my pa’s ax. It sure is heavy. But I got

big muscles for a boy my age. Ever’body says so.”

“They do?”

“Yep. You wanna see ’em?”

Without waiting for an answer he strode right up between Joe’s

knees and lexed his little arm. It wasn’t much thicker than the sap-

ling he held, but Joe assumed a serious air and scrutinized the boy’s

arm, squeezed his muscle, then whistled. “Very impressive.”

The boy beamed. “Lemme see yours.”

“I can’t roll up my sleeve right now. I’m waiting to see

your pa.”

His little shoulders wilted. “Aw, please?”

“Not today, Sprout.”

“Could you let me squeeze it, then? You wouldn’t have to roll

up your sleeves for that.”

A BRIDE IN THE BARGAIN

Joe glanced at the slightly cracked door, then lexed, making

his arm bulge.

Sprout’s hand couldn’t begin to encompass the muscle, but he

squeezed what he could, his eyes huge. “Mine are gonna be just

like that someday.”

Rufling the boy’s hair, Joe chuckled. “I imagine they will. Until

then, though, you might not want to chop down any more of your

mama’s trees. They aren’t ready for the lumberyard just yet, and

I’m not sure how she’d feel about you handling an ax.”

“Then how am I gonna learn lumberjacking?”

“Well, maybe your parents will let you come out to my place

sometime and help me.”

His face lit up. “Can I go home with you today?”

Joe chuckled again. “No, not today but—”

“Sprout Rountree! Come here this instant!”

Burdensome footsteps followed the strident voice until the

door to the parlor swung open. A young woman large with child

stood at its threshold, her face pinched with anger.

Sprout eased back into Joe. “What’s the matter, Mama?”

“What happened to my . . .” Her eyes went from the boy to

the sapling he held in his hand. “Oh, nooooo!”

Placing his hand on Sprout’s shoulder, Joe stood. “Afternoon,

Mrs. Rountree.”

She glanced at him. “O.B.’s in his ofice, Mr. Denton. You can

go on in.” She turned her attention to Sprout. “What have you

done to my pistachio tree?”

The boy shrunk at his mother’s tone. “I har-visited it, but I’ll

put it back if you want.”

Joe didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he picked up his hat

and slipped through a connecting door leading to the library and

ofice of Judge Obadiah B. Rountree.

A cloud of tobacco mixed with traces of lemon oil illed the

room. Hooking his hat on a hall tree, he clicked the door shut

behind him, cutting off the drama unfolding in the parlor.

DEEANNE GIST

The judge, with his back to Joe, scribbled on a piece of parch-

ment while sitting at an ornate mahogany secretary that had come

clear around the Horn. His white shirt, entirely too big for his small

frame, bunched beneath dark suspenders crisscrossing his back.

Short black hair surrounded a perfectly circular bald spot.

Joe ran a hand over his thick, wavy hair, letting out a silent

sigh. Blond hair like his wasn’t as apt to fall out, or so he’d heard.

Perhaps he was safe.

A handsome tan volume of Shakespeare lying on the marble-

top table caught his eye. Was it there for ornamentation, or did the

judge actually read it? Joe shifted his weight to the other foot.

No more voices came from the parlor. He assumed the mis-

sus had taken Sprout to a private place for whatever she had in

mind.

A robin with a brick-red breast and white throat landed on

the windowsill, warbling a greeting. Joe caught a whiff of fresh

air coming from the window. Spring had a distinctive smell and

one he always welcomed. No other spot on God’s green earth

held such mild and equitable climate as did Seattle from April to

November.

The bird darted off as quickly as he’d come, and the judge

placed his pen in its holder, then blotted his writings.

“You in town to purchase a bride?” he asked, still sitting at

his desk.

“I hardly think so,” Joe said. “A man would have to be pretty

desperate to let Asa Mercer choose his bride for him.”

Standing, the judge turned and clasped Joe’s hand. “I think

it’s a grand scheme. I hear he’s collected money from almost three

hundred men and is hoping to ind two hundred more.”

“Well, I won’t be one of them.”

“Have a seat, then, and tell me what I can do for you.”

Joe eased his large frame into a dainty armchair. “I have news

about my wife’s death certiicate.”

Rountree brightened, settling into the chair facing him.

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