His Substitute Mail-Order Bride

by Sherri Shackelford

  Sadie gasped and pressed her fist against her ample bosom. “Tell me everything and don’t leave out a single detail. I heard Mr. Halloway acted quite bravely. He’s not quite as cute as my Walter, but there’s something about that man that gives me the shivers.”

  A tremor of jealousy shook Anna. She shouldn’t be surprised that other women had noticed Russ’s unique appeal. She had no hold on him, and Sadie’s observations shouldn’t matter a bit.

  “Sadie!” Deborah touched the other woman’s shoulder. “Don’t badger the poor woman. And what would Walter say if he heard you talking about Russ Halloway in that fashion?”

  The buxom woman stretched out her hand and studied the tips of her fingernails. “He wouldn’t say anything. Why should he care?”

  “Because he’s sweet on you, that’s why.” Deborah opened the oven and another delicious wave of mouthwatering aroma puffed through the kitchen. “He’s here most every day calling on you.”

  Sadie rubbed a hand down her skirts. “He doesn’t seem interested in Millie or Minnie. I suppose that’s something.” She patted her hair. “But I know how men are. As the youngest of four sisters, I learned that lesson the hard way. Men are fickle for a pretty face.”

  “Now you’re talking nonsense,” Deborah said. “If someone loves you, they love you for yourself and not your looks.”

  “Easy for you to say. Believe me, I’ve been through this before. I’d bring home a beau, and inevitably one of my three older sisters would breeze through the room and turn his head. It isn’t fair they were born with our mother’s blond hair and willowy figure while I was stuck with my aunt Livia’s sweet tooth and bushy eyebrows. What man wants to court an overstuffed French pastry when there’s a Greek goddess at hand?”

  “Oh, Sadie. That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “I thought if I went someplace where the men outnumbered the women five to one, I’d at least have a fighting chance.”

  Though she was quite lovely, Anna sympathized with having been overshadowed by a captivating older sister. Sadie didn’t recognize her own, unique charm. “Older sisters can be a challenge. I have one myself.”

  “Try having three.”

  Anna grimaced. “I can’t even imagine. Living in the shadow of one beautiful, older sister was plenty.”

  “I’d give anything for your figure.” Sadie stabbed a generous bite of pastry. “Anything except starve myself, that is.”

  “With Deborah around, I won’t have this figure for long.”

  “Enough about dessert,” Sadie declared. “Let’s get back to the outlaws. Don’t leave out any details.”

  “Actually,” Anna began, “I came to apologize to Minnie and Millie for causing them to worry. Are they here?”

  “No. They’re somewhere together. They’re always together. Giggling. I think they’ve quite recovered.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “Now tell me all about what happened. Were you frightened out of your wits?”

  “Sadie.” Deborah tsked. “Maybe Anna doesn’t want to talk about what happened.”

  “It’s all right,” Anna assured the other woman. She might as well embrace her claim to fame. “We were set upon by two outlaws. Mr. Halloway and some of the men from town happened upon us. They rescued Mr. Ward and me.”

  “Rescued? That sounds simple and boring. What really happened? I want details. I heard Mr. Halloway disarmed the two men by himself after being shot in the leg.”

  “I heard he was shot in the arm,” Deborah chimed in.

  “He wasn’t shot,” Anna gasped. She never ceased to be amazed at how quickly false rumors spread. “Mr. Halloway rode into the ambush and created a distraction while the other men surrounded the outlaws. They hit Russ, I mean Mr. Halloway, on the head quite sharply for his troubles.”

  “Does he have a scar?” Sadie braced her hands on the table. “Something that enhances his rough good looks?”

  “I’m starting to have sympathy for Walter,” Deborah spoke. “Gracious. Be careful if you’re trying to make the man jealous. You’re liable to frighten him off.”

  “How else will I know if he even cares?” Sadie blushed to the roots of her hair. “He’s coming by this afternoon. He wants to take some photographs of the town.”

  “He wants to take photographs of you.” Deborah clasped her fingers together and blinked rapidly.

  Sadie stood, and her hands fluttered. “He could have any woman he wants. Why would he want plain old me?”

  “You’re not plain,” Anna protested. “You’re beautiful.”

  Sadie glanced at her with a frown. “Are you widowed? There was a woman in Philadelphia... No. That can’t be right.”

  Anna’s stomach twisted. “Lovely to meet you. I should be getting back. I only wanted to apologize for missing the train and causing everyone to worry.”

  Deborah slid a pastry onto a plate. “I’ll let Minnie and Millie know you visited. Don’t be offended if they don’t return the call. I believe they’ve been quite distracted by the gentlemen in town. The Simms brothers, to be specific. Freddie and Billy.”

  “Pete Sacket is a better choice, but I don’t know if Minnie has the sense to see that. They’re a couple of giggling gooses.” Sadie planted her hands on her hips. “I hope they marry soon or I’ll go mad listening to them day and night.”

  “Be kind,” Deborah admonished. “Laughter is a joyful sound.”

  “Not the way those two gad about.”

  Anna backed toward the door. “Thank you for the enchanting dessert, Deborah. I hope we can visit again soon. It was a pleasure meeting you, Sadie.”

  Except Sadie didn’t appear to be listening. She tapped her chin and gazed at Anna, her expression intense. Anna’s stomach flipped. What were the chances? She didn’t dare ask if Sadie was from Philadelphia. She didn’t want to say anything that might spur her memory.

  Deborah yelped and stumbled back from the counter. “I’ve spilled strawberry jam on my favorite dress. I’m going upstairs to soak this before the stain sets.”

  Anna seized the opportunity to leave. She ducked her head and rushed toward the door. But she was stopped by a sharp gasp.

  “It’s you!” Sadie exclaimed. “I knew there was something familiar about the name, but I didn’t put it together until we were talking about the shoot-out. You’re from Philadelphia, aren’t you?”

  Anna reached for the doorknob. “I have to go.”

  “And your husband.” Sadie snapped her fingers. “He was a politician or something. It’s all coming back to me. There was a front-page story in the newspaper.” She dropped onto a chair with a thud. “Did you kill him? According to the gossip, you weren’t the only one who had a motive.”

  “I didn’t kill him. I was questioned. Briefly. A woman was noticed fleeing the scene. I had an alibi.”

  “But they never caught his killer?”

  “No.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did kill him.”

  “I didn’t. Please don’t tell anyone what you know.” Panicked, Anna stepped back into the room, swept her skirts aside and knelt before the stunned woman. “I was deemed innocent by the police in Philadelphia. Nobody here knows anything about what happened, and I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible. At least until I can earn enough money to move someplace else.”

  Sadie tilted her head, as though emerging from a torpor. “Oh, you poor dear. The things your husband did. And to have the scandal spread across the front page of the newspaper. That must have been awful.”

  Anna blinked rapidly. “Promise me. Promise you won’t tell anyone what you know.”

  Sadie crushed her against her chest. “You’ve got nothing to hide, dearie. It’s like you said, the police don’t think you did anything wrong. Why go skulking around? It’s your husband’s fault, not yours.”

  Anna stumbled upright and touch
ed her forehead. “Because not everyone came to the same conclusion as the police. There are still people in Philadelphia who think I killed him. Until they find his real killer, I’ll always have a cloud of suspicion hanging over me.”

  This was a disaster. Sadie was kind, but she enjoyed a bit of gossip. How long before she slipped up and said something?

  “If it were me, I’d hire a Pinkerton detective and find the murderer myself.” Sadie reached for another pastry. “You can’t shoot someone in the middle of the day without someone noticing something.”

  Anna had already considered that possibility, but after paying off her husband’s debts, there was no money for a train ticket, let alone a pricey Pinkerton detective. “Maybe I will. Someday. But promise me you won’t tell anyone what you know.”

  “I promise.” Sadie drew an X over her heart with her index finger. “No one will hear a peep out of me.” She cupped her cheek with one hand. “Say, you oughta ask that lawyer, Russ Halloway, for help. I heard his brother was a Pinkerton detective. Maybe he can get you a discount or something.”

  “No,” Anna replied, stricken. “I can’t involve him. He’s running for mayor. He can’t have any hint of scandal around him.” She shuddered. Involving Russ was out of the question. She was already living on borrowed time in Cowboy Creek. She’d ask for extra hours and save every penny.

  “I suppose you’re right.” Sadie harrumphed. “Still, it doesn’t seem fair that your husband was the one cavorting around and getting himself shot, and you’re the one who’s suffering.”

  “Life is seldom fair.”

  “No. It isn’t. I’ll keep your secret if that’s what you want, but you might be surprised by folks around here.” Sadie cut through her second helping of pastry. “There are two kinds of people who live out west—the folks that were born here, and the folks who came here to escape something.” The other woman caught her gaze. “I wasn’t born here.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said. “I owe you a great deal.”

  “Ah, you don’t owe me nothing. We girls have to stick together.”

  “Yes,” Anna replied weakly.

  Sadie led her to the door, and Anna glanced over her shoulder one last time before starting in the general direction of The Cattleman. She walked with her head bent, her footsteps brisk. The fresh air was invigorating, and she soon lost track of where she was going or how long she’d been walking.

  She’d bought herself a reprieve, but for how long? With each day that passed, she felt the steady ticking of the clock. She’d already discovered someone who knew her secret. How long would it be before someone else sought the truth?

  The detective back in Philadelphia was relentless, but even if he caught the killer, something as wonderful as an exoneration of her name didn’t guarantee an end to the gossip. Folks didn’t always believe the facts, and they didn’t always trust the newspapers. People stubbornly clung to their beliefs, even in light of evidence suggesting otherwise. Anna knew the pitfalls of trusting one’s heart over one’s head. She’d married Edward despite her misgivings, hadn’t she?

  Instead of being a possible murderess, she’d be the humiliated widow. She’d always bear the taint of his murder, of the immoral life he’d led and of the poor choice she’d made in a husband.

  The boardwalk ended, and her footsteps slowed. Railroad tracks snaked into the distance, leading to another town, another future, another fresh start. She told herself again that she only had to survive a few more weeks, save some money and then she could run again.

  This time, she’d change her name. She’d been too overwhelmed to revert to her maiden name before. This time, she’d be more thoughtful about her escape. This time, she’d disappear for good.

  A school bell rang in the distance. Pail in hand, with blond pigtails flying, a young girl dashed toward the sound. Anna barely recalled ever being that innocent.

  Children should be protected from the cruelties of the world. Though she’d desperately wanted children during her brief marriage, she was reluctantly grateful she’d never been able to conceive.

  She pivoted back toward the town and threw back her shoulders. She had a plan. Her health was gradually returning. Whatever happened, the burden was hers to bear alone.

  At least she’d never have to explain Edward’s shocking death to an innocent child, and that was a blessing she’d cling to when all else failed.

  * * *

  Russ propped the spade against the base of the house and swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand.

  A voice called from a passing wagon, and he turned toward the sound. Seth held the reins for a team of horses. Beside him, three young boys, their heads stair-stepped by age, sat on the wagon seat.

  Russ’s brother had inherited guardianship of the three Radner boys—now known affectionately as the Halloway boys—last month. They were seven, five and three respectively, with hair in various hues of blond. Since adopting them, Seth had taken a shine to fatherhood and rarely missed an opportunity to spend time with the children.

  “Uncle Russ!” called Tate, the oldest. “How come you’re stealing the mayor’s rosebushes?”

  Russ abandoned his labors and trudged toward the wagon. He braced his hands on the side of the center board with a grin. “I’m not stealing them, Tate. I’m taking a cutting to plant in my yard.”

  Tate grimaced. “Rosebushes? Did the heat addle your brain, Uncle Russ? What sort of feller goes digging up rosebushes?”

  Seth rested his hand across the back of the bench seat. “You know better than to say that sort of thing, Tate.”

  Russ and his brother were nearly the same height, though Seth had more of their father’s bearish build—he was broad-shouldered and lean-hipped with beefy arms and legs from manual labor around the ranch. They shared the same light brown hair and brown eyes, though Seth wore a mustache while Russ had sported a goatee since his time in the army. They’d drifted apart during the war, but Cowboy Creek had been a new opportunity to get to know his brother once more.

  “Ah, Seth, I was only funning.” Tate appeared suitably chastised. “Tell us about the outlaws. Did you shoot anyone? Did they die? Did their tongues stick out and swell up after they were dead?”

  “Tate!”

  “Ah, c’mon, you’re curious too, ain’t ya?”

  Russ stretched out a hand and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Where are the girls? They’re brave, letting the four of you storm the town all alone.”

  “Marigold is finishing up some work at the schoolhouse with Violet. We’re visiting the mercantile before we head home.” Seth narrowed his gaze. “Now tell us about the outlaws. Ma didn’t say much. She mentioned one of the Darby sisters was in town.”

  Russ stared at the top of his boots. “Yep.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say? Yep.”

  Harper, the five-year-old, tapped on Seth’s shoulder. “Who are the Darby sisters?”

  “Why don’t you three boys run along to the mercantile ahead of me?” Seth offered, fishing in his pocket for loose change. “Stick together and don’t bother the owner, Mr. Booker.”

  He gave each of the boys a nickel, even the youngest, Little John, who fisted the precious coin in his pudgy hand. The three boys climbed out of the wagon in eager anticipation. Once they safely crossed the street hand in hand, they took off in a dash. From his seat, Seth watched their progress until they entered the mercantile.

  He shook his head. “If I had even a tenth of that energy, I’d be as rich as Vanderbilt by now. I don’t remember any of us being that rambunctious when we were little. Even Adam.”

  “You heard from him lately?” Russ asked. “Ma is worried.”

  “Nope. Nothing. Marigold thinks I oughta do something about it.”

  “Like what? Hire a Pinkerton detective to find a Pinkerton detective?”

  Seth offered a wry,
half grin. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

  “I don’t want to get Ma’s hopes up.”

  “What’d she say about him?”

  “You know how she is,” Russ said. “She doesn’t talk about him much, but I know she’s hurting.”

  “Adam never was one for writing. I’m sure he’s fine.” Seth adjusted the reins in his gloved hands, and the horses shifted, their tails swishing against the buzz of flies. “Say, you know people. Maybe you could ask around. Write some letters.”

  Russ had a few contacts. A few people he used when he needed information that wasn’t readily available through the usual channels. “I’ll do what I can, but don’t expect much. Adam should at least let Ma know he’s still alive once in a while.”

  Russ’s influence only went so far. Depending on how deep Adam had gone into hiding for his current case, they weren’t likely to find him unless he wanted them to find him.

  “I’d feel better if we at least tried,” Seth said. The brothers exchanged a knowing glance. Neither of them liked to see their mother upset. “How much longer do you think Ma will stay with you? Marigold was asking.”

  “Don’t know. She’s cooking up a storm.”

  Seth set the brake on the wagon, swung his legs over the side, then leaped to the ground beside Russ. “Yeah. She’s used to feeding a man who works in the fields all day. Not someone who sits behind a desk.”

  Russ chucked his brother on the shoulder. “I hope Marigold makes you fat.”

  Seth patted his stomach. “She’s trying, that’s for sure.” He gestured to the hole and the shovel. “What’s the deal with the rosebush? Ma talk you into that?”

  “Nah. Just figured I’d spruce up the place.”

  Seth pinched the brim of his hat, shadowing his face with his forearm. “Ma might have said something about Susannah when she picked up the boys yesterday.”

  “Susannah isn’t coming out. Changed her mind.”

  “Her loss.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Didn’t see that one coming.” Seth hooked his index fingers through his belt loops. “Something will work out. It always does.”