Billie paced in her room. Lucien would arrive any minute to take her to dinner, and she was sure he’d made some sort of arrangements for her departure. The problem was, she hadn’t told him where she wanted to go. He probably bought her train and stage fare back to Denver. He wouldn’t pick a place at random and send her there – the man wasn’t that cruel. She hoped.

But she knew such things happened. On the journey west she’d heard tale after horrific tale of abandonment, abuse and neglect. Lucien Miller wasn’t neglectful; she’d give him that. He’d provided a hotel room, food and decent company. But it was all short-lived, so why not? There was a big difference between a woman in town for a few days and one staying for the rest of his life. The moment she stepped off the stage, he’d made his decision, as she knew he would. One look at her and she’d have done the same.

But that was beside the point. She needed to tell him she wanted to go to Seattle. Would he work with her? She’d consider herself fortunate if he sent her back to Denver all-expenses-paid, and she had some money left, though not much. But what could she do? She was in no position to look a gift horse in the mouth.

If she was careful, she could find a place to stay in Denver quickly enough, and find a laborer’s job if she disguised herself again. That really would be her best option. She wasn’t Maitred the apprentice dressmaker – that girl had a skill. What could Billie do that she was proud of? Nothing, when one got down to it. She’d been there for her father after her mother died – that was her job, her purpose for living. She might not have had a husband, but at least she had Papa. Now that he was gone, she felt adrift.

The knock at the door made her jump. She put a hand over her racing heart and answered it. “Mr. Miller,” she said in surprise.

“Please, call me Lucien,” he insisted. “Are you all right?”

“Quite,” she said, smiling shyly. Now where did that come from? She shook herself to regain her wits – the mere sight of the man took her breath away. “I wasn’t expecting you this early, I’m afraid.”

He smiled. “Well, this day has been full of surprises – at least mine has. How about yours? Did you enjoy your tea?”

“Yes, very much. The ladies were … nice.”

“You hesitated,” he mused. “Did Nellie Davis behave herself?”

“Actually, she did.” She stepped into the hall. “And the conversation was very uplifting. There was a lot of talk about forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” he said, impressed. “Well, that is something. Sounds like I missed a good tea.”

She nodded as her cheeks warmed. Oh, for Heaven’s sake, she needed to get a hold of herself! She was about to be sent packing, after all.

“Since it’s a bit early for dinner, would you like to take a walk with me?”

“A walk?”

“Yes, so we can discuss things.”

Billie looked at the floor. “Oh yes. Of course.”

“And I thought you might need a few items from the mercantile.”

Her head came up. “No. I already purchased what I needed, but thank you.”

“Oh,” he said, looking disappointed. “Everything? You’re sure?”

She nodded. At least he was trying to be accommodating. “But thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course I’m thinking of you. Why wouldn’t I?”

She didn’t know what to say to that. He was being very nice and trying to do what he could, and for that she was grateful. Finally, she settled on, “You’re most kind.”

He stepped closer. “Let me know if you need anything, won’t you?”

“Of course.” She stepped away, went into the room and snatched her reticule. “Shall we?”

He was suddenly behind her, a hand on her shoulder. “Billie, I want to be your friend.”

She turned and looked into his eyes. Friend. Well, of course – he didn’t want to part on bad terms. If she were in his position, she would want the same. It was either that or he felt incredibly guilty. “Lucien, it’s not as if we’re going to be writing to each other anymore.”

“Of course not, but I think it’s good to be friends, don’t you?”

Her heart sank. Definitely guilt. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

“Try? Of course I’m going to try, Billie.” He shrugged. “Besides, I can’t help myself. Naturally I want to get to know you better.”

She stared at him in confusion. “You are a different sort, Mr. Miller.”

“Lucien. Now come with me – there’s something I want to show you.” He offered her his arm.

She took it – it would be rude not to – and they went downstairs, past the front desk (complete with a gawking Mrs. Ferguson) and out the hotel door. She wasn’t sure what to do. He was acting as if everything was fine, that he wasn’t about to ship her off as a reject. This was all so bizarre.

“Billie, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“If you don’t know, Mr. Miller, then I don’t know what to tell you.” She was done being gentle about this. In fact, she was getting angry. How dare he assume that, kind as he was, stringing her along like this was okay? And she was letting him get away with it. Well, time to put a stop to that.

“I’m not clairvoyant, Billie. If there’s something wrong, you have to tell me.”

She pulled away, clasped her hands behind her back and looked him in the eyes. “You wanted to discuss details?”

He sighed. “Yes, I did.” He motioned to the boardwalk and took a step forward. She walked beside him but not arm in arm – it just didn’t feel right. He had to understand that.

When he didn’t say anything for a minute, she broke the silence. “Details?”

“Saturday morning at ten o’clock,” he stated. “Will that suit?”

“Yes, but I’m surprised you didn’t arrange for something sooner.”

“It’s the soonest I could manage. If you’re unwilling to wait, though …”

“Saturday it is, then.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking. Four days. She would have to endure this for four more days. Could she do it?

“Do you require anything?” he asked. “Anything special you’d like to wear?”

She gave him a sidelong glance, then quickly looked away. “One of my dresses will suit.”

“If that’s what you wish. I just thought…”

Billie stopped. “You thought what, that I would want to dress in something special for the occasion?”

He looked thoroughly confused. “Most women do.”

“Oh, do they? So I’m not the first?”

“Of course not – you’ve met some of the others. And I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

Billie gasped. “Mr. Miller, how could you?” It was getting harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. So she wasn’t the first rejected bride, was she? And some of them had been stuck here, unable to leave? Which ones, she wondered. And what was this place, a town full of heartbreakers?

“I certainly didn’t mean to offend. And honestly, I’m not sure how I have. If you’d be so kind as to enlighten me …”

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think you need to be enlightened. Saturday at ten – have it your way. Now if you will excuse me, I have a headache and want go back to my room.” She spun on her heel and headed for to the hotel.

“Billie, wait!”

She kept going. If she turned around, she might slap him. This wasn’t kindness, it was a mockery!

He caught up and put a hand on her shoulder. “Billie …”

She spun away and glared at him, fists clenched at her sides. “Mr. Miller!”

“Billie! Tell me what has you so upset.”

She spun to face him, her mouth open in shock. “Surely you jest.”

“I do, but I’m not jesting right now.”

Billie rolled her eyes. “Saturday at ten. Thank you for the information, and thank you for all you’ve done. But I really must go now.” She turned and marched away, having had enough of Lucien Miller, Nowhere, her promise to her father and anything except going back to her room and sobbing in fury into a pillow.

Lucien stood in shock, staring at Billie’s retreating form. Should he go after her? “No, no,” he said to himself. He wasn’t sure why she was so upset, but he knew he’d better let her calm down before speaking with her again.

Still, he wondered. Had something happen during her tea? He rubbed his chin and turned around. Perhaps he should pay a visit to the mercantile and find out – Charlotte could tell him if anything was amiss. Perhaps Nellie had said something … something that needed to be forgiven. Is that why Billie brought up forgiveness? Drat that Nellie Davis! She’d been a thorn in Nowhere’s side for years.

It was bad enough he had to work with Mr. Davis at the bank, listening to him lament his wife. But Mr. Davis was a decent sort, despite his terrible taste in wives. According to him, she’d always been uppity – a Southern belle born to money and privilege, who lost it all in the war. Apparently, someone forgot to tell Nellie that there were no more slaves at her beck and call and she couldn’t just treat people however she wanted.

Thank Heaven Mr. Davis had come west when he did. That alone had tempered her, according to him. He told Lucien once that on the trip west, he’d recognized some of his own shortcomings and vowed never to be that person again. Lucien admired him for that. He’d become a better man and wanted to stay that way. Alas, Nellie was still far behind him.

Lucien stepped into the mercantile and went straight to the counter. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Quinn,” he greeted.

Betsy looked up from the ledger she’d been writing in. “Lucien, what brings you in today? Do you have a list?”

“No, but I’d like to talk with Charlotte if I may.”

Betsy smiled. “Is this regarding your wedding?”

“Peripherally, yes.”

She clapped her hands and hurried around the counter. “I’ll go fetch her!”

Lucien shook his head as she hurried down the hall. He’d let Charlotte tell her mother-in-law this had nothing to do with wedding preparations. Right now he didn’t have the stomach for it.

“Why, Lucien Miller, what can I do for you?” Charlotte said as she entered the storefront, Betsy on her heels.

From the looks of it, her mother-in-law was about to find out anyway. Oh well, he thought. “I was wondering, did anything … untoward happen between Miss Sneed and your mother at tea this afternoon?”

Betsy and Charlotte exchanged a quick look. “Certainly not,” Betsy said. “We had a fine time, didn’t we, Charlotte?”

“Yes, we did. In fact, my mother was most civil.”

“She was?” Lucien immediately regretted the surprise in his voice, but could he honestly be blamed?

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. After all these years I think my mother is finally starting to change.”

“And it’s a wonderful thing too,” Betsy added.

Lucien rubbed his chin. “This makes no sense. Miss Sneed seemed upset over something, but I can’t figure out what. All I did was tell her the time I’d arranged for the wedding and ask if she wanted to wear anything special.”

“Does she?” Betsy asked, hopeful.

“Mother Quinn …” Charlotte pleaded.

“Oh, you know this has me on pins and needles. I can only imagine what Leona’s going through.”

“Leona is busy at home with her grandchildren,” Charlotte said.

“Hmph,” Betsy replied. “At least one of us is.” She went behind the counter.

Charlotte ignored the dig. “I don’t know what to tell you, Lucien. We had a lovely time. And Abbey and I both offered to help with a dress if Billie wanted.”

Lucien smiled at the sound of his bride’s name. “I’d like to see her in a fine dress. But if that’s not what she wants, I won’t force her. Maybe she thought I was …”

Charlotte shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t say. But we did talk about it, and she said she’d let us know. She must have decided against it.”

“Yes, you’re probably right. Well then, I suppose there’s nothing else for me to do but to work out a misunderstanding with my bride.”

“Let us know if you need any help,” Betsy called from somewhere in the back.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Quinn, I will.” He smiled in amusement, winked at Charlotte and left. At least neither one of them had tried to talk him out of marrying Billie. He’d had his fill of that. But now what? He didn’t want anything to come between them. After all, what she wore at their wedding was a minor detail. And if Saturday was too soon, well, he’d postpone …

Lucien stopped when he reached the bottom of the mercantile steps and smacked his forehead. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” He turned, went back up and inside again. “Charlotte, Mrs. Quinn!”

Both were behind the counter now. “Forget something, Lucien?” Charlotte asked.

“I arranged for our wedding to take place on Saturday. Miss Sneed got upset after I gave her the date. Perhaps she wants a wedding dress and didn’t know how to tell me, and now she’s worried there won’t be time to make one.”

“Could be,” Charlotte conceded.

Mrs. Quinn beamed and raised her hands in the air. “Praise the Lord, I’m back in business!”

Lucien and Charlotte laughed nervously. “Does this mean you’re going to let Leona know?” Charlotte asked.

“Heavens, no – I’m keeping this to myself for a few days. Now let me see … I’m thinking the white would look best on Billie. What do you think, Charlotte?”

Charlotte laughed. “I think someone needs to warn Billie. You’re liable to scare her so bad, she’ll take the first stage back to Denver.”

Betsy slapped the feather duster in her hand on the counter. “Enough out of you. Now let’s get to work – Billie needs our help!”

Lucien chuckled at the proprietress. In spite of Nowhere’s little quirks, its people were endearing. He just hoped that Billie would think so too.