Jericho turned the paper so he could see it better. "It's an advertisement in the Personals section of theRichmond Gazette. I'll read it to you. 'A good man living in the Montana Territory seeks a God-fearing wife. Must be of strong character and not afraid of hard work. Even better if she is a mother, as I am eager to start a family. I am trusting that the Almighty will carry this advertisement to the wife He intends for me. If He is prompting you, travel west to Fort Benton, then follow the Mullan road past Helena. When you reach the gully at the base of the second mountain, turn left and follow the creek ten miles to the Coulter ranch. I will reimburse all travel expenses and provide a safe, comfortable home. Signed, Jericho Coulter.'"
She watched the men as he read. As far as she could tell, none of the brothers seemed to be trying to conceal a secret smile. The shock in their expressions couldn't be feigned. Except for Gil. His mouth did tip in a grin, but even that looked more like humor at something so outlandish it couldn't be real.
Jericho's voice broke the silence. "I'm not going to ask again. Who placed this advertisement?"
Dinah glanced at the boy, Sean. His face held a pinched look. Like a lad who expected to be called out by his mother for something, but wasn't sure what yet. Interesting.
A motion near the door caught her attention. Lillian still stood near the opening, holding the door in her hand. She seemed to be trying to slide behind it, maybe to escape into the house. She glanced at her brother, shifting another inch. The boy sidled toward his sister.
Something definitely wasn't right with these two.
"Lillian." Jericho's bold voice sliced through the air, and the girl jumped. Her reaction made Dinah's own heartbeat catch, and she turned to see how the man intended to ferret out the truth.
Would he hurt the children? Part of her wanted to edge forward and put herself between them. But she was close enough she could spring forward and grab him if he charged. Surely he wouldn't though. Neither child bore any sign of bruises or ill-treatment.
Though the girl's eyes, growing wide with fright as her uncle drew near, made Dinah tense.
"What do you know about this advertisement?" He barely lifted the paper.
Beside him, the boy seemed to be trying to scoot away while the focus was aimed at his sister.
Jericho never took his gaze from the girl. "Sean, stand here next to your sister."
When her brother moved beside her, Lillian finally gathered enough courage to speak. "We were tryin' to help. Mama said you weren't happy 'cause you didn't have a wife. Then a bunch of the miners were sendin' off for mail-order brides. We thought that would be perfect for you. Slops helped us write it, an' we made sure to put that she had to be God-fearin', 'cause Mama said that's what you needed more'n anythin'. And children too. Mama said she wanted you to have a whole passel of little-uns."
Lillian raised hopeful eyes to him in a look that would surely soften any person with a heart. "It'll all turn out right, Uncle Jericho. You'll see."
The girl's optimism made even Dinah want to believe her words, but the rock in her middle kept pulling her back to the truth.
Naomi wasn't wanted here.
Jericho Coulter hadn’t placed that advertisement.
That left her sister still with a babe on the way and no prospects for a husband or a stable future, just as she'd been in Wayneston. And now Naomi was also exhausted and unable to travel farther, stranded in this land, a three-month journey from their home and the grandparents, who might have been willing to support Naomi and the child, despite the ill effects to their reputation and to Pop’s clinic.
Maybe these men would at least let her and Naomi stay on a week or so for her sister to rest. Dinah needed to care for Jonah’s injury anyway. The incision would need care several times daily, and she'd have to adjust the amount of traction as the bone healed.
Jericho still hadn't eased the rigid line of his shoulders. His brows lowered, so his eyes were hard to see—except for the glint that must be anger. She couldn't make out the line of his mouth through the beard, but his jaw was surely locked tight. Would he strike the children?
But he used words, growling through that clamped jaw. "Do you have any idea how many lives you've affected by this stunt?" He motioned toward Dinah. "These two women traveled all the way from Virginia. Probably more than two months to get here. For nothing. They'll have to turn around and journey all that way back. Who knows if they can afford it?"
Dinah's heart pounded a little faster. They couldn't go back. Even if they had a decent prospect to return to, Naomi couldn't make the journey, not as her time became imminent.
Lillian peered up at her uncle with a half-penitent, half-hopeful expression. "You can give them the money. Or maybe they could stay instead. Uncle Jonah needs them, right?"
Dinah cleared her throat to gain the man's attention. This was her chance. When Jericho's gaze swung to her, she began. "She's right, actually. Your brother’s leg will require a doctor’s care for several weeks. And my sister needs a safe place to rest for at least that long. We don't have the means to travel back to Virginia, and it would be dangerous for my sister to attempt it in her condition. Perhaps we can stay on for a time. I'll care for your brother and help around the house"—she shot a meaningful glance toward the children—"in exchange for temporary room and board."
Jericho's eyes narrowed. "How long until your sister…reaches her…?" He trailed off, clearly not sure how to speak of Naomi's condition.
"The babe should come in November."
His eyes rounded. He must think she wanted to live here until then.
"We won't stay that long. Just a month or so until Naomi recovers her strength and your brother heals sufficiently to move around. I intend to open a clinic in a nearby town, so I'll be able to continue monitoring his recovery through regular appointments."
The tension hung thick in the air as she waited for Jericho's response. His expression—or what little she could see of his face—gave no sign of his decision.
At last, he spoke. "A week. We'll try it for a week. Then I'll decide if you stay longer." He raised the paper again. "But you will not be staying as mail-order brides. Is that clear?"
