Chapter 2

Minnesota Territory
Eight Days Later

Josie took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy front door of the Little Falls Company Store. A bell jingled overhead as she stepped into the bustling interior. At least two dozen men stood about the dusty store, some visiting around a game of checkers, while others shopped the disorganized shelves.

Josie’s maid, Ruth, followed close behind, her confident blue eyes assessing their surroundings. Ruth had proven to be a valuable traveling companion. Though she was tiny, she was also spirited and unafraid. Her blond hair and fair coloring made her look sweet, but under her soft demeanor, she was ready for anything.

The men stopped their activities and stared at the new arrivals. The only noise in the room came from the pesky flies circling the salt pork barrels.

A well-dressed man stood behind the long counter, the pencil in his hand hovering over a thick ledger. His handsome face boasted a mustache and surprised blue eyes. Here, at least, was a man who looked educated and clean.

“May I help you, ladies?”

Josie and Ruth maneuvered around a pile of rusted shovels and the two barrels of salt pork to reach the counter.

“I’m looking for Mr. Philip Sommers,” Josie said.

The man grinned as he set down the pencil. “I’m Philip Sommers.”

One of the men in the back of the store shouted, “No, I’m Philip Sommers!”

Then another shouted, “I’m Sommers!”

Soon, every man was claiming to be Mr. Sommers, and their laughter rang throughout the store. Josie’s cheeks filled with heat.

Little Falls was as primitive as she had expected. Only two years old, the town had been built along the Mississippi River and consisted of fresh-cut lumber buildings, rutted streets, and grandiose dreams.

From the moment the stagecoach had stopped in front of the Northern Hotel, Josie had been in awe of the chaos of men. She had been convinced her prospects were good … until she inspected the rough men present.

“Please, excuse them, miss.” Mr. Sommers lifted his hand to quiet the men. “If you can’t act decent, boys, there’s the door.”

Thankfully, the room quieted, but everyone still stared.

“What can I do for you?” Mr. Sommers asked.

Josie swallowed hard, wishing she didn’t have an audience for this important meeting—and hoping she was talking to the real Mr. Sommers.

Though Ruth stood by quietly, her presence bolstered Josie. With trembling fingers, Josie opened her reticule and pulled out the slip of newspaper Mr. Trestle had given her. She handed it to Mr. Sommers. “I’ve come about this advertisement.”

“What is it, Sommers?” called one of the men.

Mr. Sommers blinked several times as he stared at Josie. “Y–you’ve come to answer the ad?”

“Yes—” She cleared the nervous tickle from her throat. “I will be holding private interviews at the Northern Hotel this evening. Anyone interested may come at seven o’clock.”

Mr. Sommers shook his head. “I never thought someone would actually answer our ad.”

“Is she a prospective bride?” shouted a man with red hair.

Mr. Sommers grinned and looked her up and down. “She is!”

Pandemonium broke loose as the men rushed to the counter, climbing over tools and food supplies to get close to her. Josie squealed and bumped against the counter, while Ruth brandished Josie’s parasol.

The men crowded around them, overwhelming Josie with the stench of dirty bodies and stale alcohol. Their questions and compliments rang in her ears as they reached out with grubby hands to touch her.

She put her gloved hand over her nose and tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go.

Josie barely heard the jingle over the front door. She glanced up as a new gentleman walked into the building. He towered over the other men, his brown eyes quickly assessing the situation. His clothes looked worn and dirty, and his rugged face needed a shave—but there was something different about him. Instead of hunger, his eyes were filled with curiosity—and then alarm.

He pushed his way through the crowd, his sheer size silencing the men.

“What’s going on here?” His deep voice held a hint of a French accent and commanded attention.

The men backed away, and some had the decency to look contrite.

He stared at the crowd for a moment and then turned his intense gaze on Josie and Ruth, his demeanor softening. “Are you ladies all right?”

Josie lifted her unsteady hands to readjust her hat. “Yes, thank you. We were just about to leave.”

He pushed two men out of their path and nodded for them to proceed.

Josie and Ruth walked past the men and around the shovels and salt pork.

The redheaded man jumped ahead of them and opened the door.

Josie nodded a thank-you as she and Ruth stepped out into the fresh air and sunshine.

“It’s not too late to back out of this, Miss Josie.” Ruth opened Josie’s parasol and handed it to her, their boots clipping a solid beat on the wood boardwalk. “We can stay in our hotel room until the stagecoach leaves town.”

A group of men across the street stopped pounding their hammers to watch Josie and Ruth pass.

“I can’t go back until I have a husband.” Josie secured her green parasol against the summer sun—and the men’s stares. “We’ve come too far to turn around now.”

“But those men—” Ruth shuddered and wrinkled her nose. “None of them would do.”

“I’m not obligated to marry just anyone—I’ll interview whoever comes to the hotel, and I’ll pick the best candidate.”

“What if there aren’t any good ones to choose from?”

Josie stopped and put her hand on Ruth’s arm. “There’s no time to go anywhere else. I have to take my chances here.”

“Mademoiselles.”

Josie and Ruth turned at the sound of a man’s voice. The tall gentleman from the company store strode toward them, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” he said.

Josie nodded. “Yes, we are, thank you.”

He looked at their surroundings, at the men ogling them from the construction site, and his concerned gaze rested on Josie’s face. “May I escort you home?”

Josie found herself smiling for the first time in over a week. His offer was very gallant, but she and Ruth had done fine by themselves—besides, they were a long way from home. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Please, I would feel much better if I could.”

Josie glanced at Ruth, who looked quite taken with their hero. “If you insist … We’re staying at the Northern Hotel.”

“That’s where I’m staying.” With a dashing smile, he offered one arm to Josie and the other to Ruth.

They walked to the end of the street and turned left onto Broadway. Josie felt conspicuous with her expensive parasol and matching green gown—but even if she wore a plain brown dress, she would stand out like a cultivated rose in a weed lot.

The white clapboard hotel, standing proudly on the corner of Main Street and Broadway, was the one building in town with a bit of class. It came within sight, and Josie’s shoulders relaxed. Inside the walls of her hotel room she would be safe from the stares and lewd comments—at least until seven o’clock.

The tall gentleman escorted them inside the hotel and then bowed. “Au revoir.”

It wasn’t until he was up the stairs and out of sight that Josie realized she hadn’t asked his name.