Rustlers and Ribbons

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “Morgan, thank God.” She reached for his hand and promptly fell forward landing face-down in the water. Scrambling to her feet, she uttered, “Crikey!”

  “Come on, Anne, we have to get out of here. It isn’t safe.” He dipped down and lifted her into his arms. Immediately, she began to kick and wriggle until she slid out of his arms and onto the ground. She landed with a thud largely due to the amount of water absorbed by the material in her dress. “What are you doing?”

  Scrambling to stand, her back ramrod straight, she said, “I can walk on my own two feet. I wouldn’t want you to strain your back.” Gathering fistfuls of her skirt, she stormed off toward the street.

  They reached the others just as another, smaller explosion sounded. This time it came from the direction of the train depot. He had to find out what was burning and how he could help.

  “I heard the church is putting folks up for a while, at least until we can get this under control.” Not one but three of them started to protest. He’d anticipated resistance from Mollie and Walt but, apparently, his bride truly did have a stubborn streak. He raised his hand, and said, “I expect all of you to get to the safety of the church, so I can do my job. Walt, someone needs to take a look at your shoulder. Looks like you’ve busted those stitches.”

  Without further conversation, he turned and walked toward what surely must be Hell.

  Anne once again lifted her wet clothes to make the trek across town. She had almost put up a fuss and insisted on staying with Morgan, although she knew he was right. It was dangerous, and he couldn’t do his job with her underfoot. His job. But being a marshal, she reminded herself, wasn’t really his job.

  Along the way, Mollie diverted them to Doc Harper’s office. Once inside, she said, “Walt, go into the surgery so I can have a look at that shoulder. Anne, there are blankets in the cabinet in the next room, and Iris, I’ll dance at your wedding if you’ll make us some coffee.”

  Anne retrieved the blankets and joined Mollie in the surgery. Spreading one across Walt’s legs, she focused on a painting of a farmhouse hanging on the wall across the room, anything to avoid the scene before her. She had never been good at anything medical, thank heavens she had never had to be.

  After another couple of minutes, Mollie said, “There you go, Walt, I’m just about done here. Anne, would you tie this sling behind his neck?”

  When she’d done as Mollie had asked and Walt was sitting up, she said, “I’m sorry about your house.”

  “Me, too. I just hope and pray they can get the fires put out sooner than later, before there’s more injury and destruction.”

  Anne watched as the older woman place the soiled bandages and sponges to be cleaned or thrown away into a porcelain basin. Her movements were slow, methodical, and mesmerizing, and suddenly, Anne felt all the energy drain out of her. It seemed impossible that so much could have happened in only two days. Two days and three months since her life had fallen apart.

  Realizing she wasn’t the only one who’d had her life ripped to shreds, she pulled herself together and said, “It’s so calm and quiet in here, like there is nothing untoward beyond these walls. I wonder how it’s going out there, I wonder . . .”

  “I don’t know, but know this,” Mollie said, “Morgan is strong and careful. He will be all right.”

  “I want to believe you,” Anne said, “But we won’t know for certain until we can see him, and he doesn’t know yet we’re here instead of the church.”

  “Don’t worry love, he’ll find us.” Mollie sniffed the air and visibly perked up. “Smells like Iris has the coffee ready. Shall we have a cup and then get ready for any casualties Doc brings?”

  “Yes.”

  Anne sat at the table in the small kitchen and closed her eyes. What she wouldn’t give for a bed and a pillow. Her own bed in her old room at Higby Castle would be lovely, but those days were gone forever. She thought then about her trunks filled with some of her favorite trinkets, jewelry, and all her clothes. Would they survive, or would they perish along with Mollie’s house?

  “Here you go, my lady.” Iris set a cup of hot coffee in front of her. “I fixed it like you like with sugar and plenty of milk.”

  She looked up and smiled. “You’re a life saver, truly.”

  The hot brown beverage smelled strong enough to walk by its self, Anne wasn’t sure she wanted to drink it, tea would have been her drink of choice, but when Mollie raved about the robust flavor, she took a sip. The taste surprised her and warmed her all the way down. She had just begun to perk up when the front door burst open.

  “Anne? Mollie!” Morgan shouted as he ran inside.

  Anne stood as she answered, “We’re in the kitchen!” She greeted him, startled by his oil and soot smudged appearance but pleased to see him none the less. And wasn’t that a surprise? She pulled out her chair for him and said, “You found us.”

  “Yes, but I was worried when you weren’t at the church.”

  “Mollie thought it best to come here to take care of Walt’s shoulder, and be ready to help Doc with the wounded if necessary.”

  “That makes sense. I was just worried when I couldn’t find any of you.”

  Mollie put a cup of coffee into his hand. “How is it out there? Is the fire under control yet?”

  “No, but the wind is helping to keep the flames from the town and your house for the time being. They were able to disconnect a burning car and push it out away from the train station.” He drained the cup of its contents, took a deep breath, and continued, “The well, however, is still burning out of control. Word’s been sent to get help in capping it off.”

  She wished she knew what to do for him. Another thing she wasn’t good at, meeting other people’s needs. She placed her hand on his arm and said, “You look very tired. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like to lie down?”

  “I feel like I’ve been yanked through a knot hole backwards.” His initial answer to her was clipped and short but, as if he had second thoughts, he covered her hand and said, “Thank you. I would like to sleep, but if I find a pillow with my name on it, I may not wake up until next week. Since the firemen have the fire contained, I need to make sure the rest of the town is under control.” He stood, pushed in his chair, and walked to the door to leave.

  Anne followed him. “Morgan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to say be careful.”

  He gave her a smile and a wink. “Always.”

  A pounding on the door sounded before she could manage a response to his over confident statement. Morgan opened the door to Jacob Beasley’s son whose words came out rapid fire.

  “Marshal Grant, my pa sent me to tell you the Texas Rangers are here and there’s a whole company of ‘em and they want you to come right away!”

  Anne wondered, as her new husband disappeared down the street in the red-gold glow of the still burning fire, would this truly be the end of this nightmare wedding day?

  Chapter Nine

  Anne savored the luxury of having a bath in her room because she knew she would need to relinquish it soon. Iris and Mollie were waiting in line. Her ruined wedding dress lay in a heap on the floor along with the now blackened satin slippers. She would cry about it, if tears would do any good, but there was so much more to cry over.

  Mollie’s house hadn’t burned, due to the winds keeping the flames at bay, but would be uninhabitable until the windows could be replaced. Morgan and a few of the men had retrieved their trunks and bags and brought them out to his ranch. They had arrived earlier this morning, from their temporary stay at Doc’s house, and it had taken the better part of the day to get them all settled in. As was no surprise, Walt was proving to be the most challenging of the group, trying at every opportunity to get to the marshal’s office.

  A knock sounded at the door and, since she was expecting Iris, she said, “Come in. I’m afraid I’ve gotten in without my towel. Would you be a dear and hand it to me?”

  M
organ’s distinctive, deep baritone answered her from behind the tub. “Don’t be startled, m’lady, it’s me.” He reached around for the towel and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. Where is Iris?”

  “She’s watching Mollie change Walt’s dressing. I didn’t realize you were still in the bath, I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  Calmly, she draped the towel across the tub, inches above the waterline, hopefully to cover strategic areas. They hadn’t yet consummated their marriage, and she was uncomfortable exposing herself to him.

  “Good for her, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a good nurse.”

  “You could learn it,” he said. “We can all do what we need to do.”

  “I suppose that is true.”

  He walked over to the fireplace, which stood directly in front of the tub, and began to stir the logs into a roaring fire. He added more wood, walked over to her, and caressed her cheek. “Enjoy your bath, I’ll see you later.”

  “She didn’t know exactly what he had meant by that, but as the door to the room closed, shivers shook her, and they had nothing to do with the temperature of the now frigid bathwater.

  Morgan stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Seeing her in the tub had caught him completely off guard. He couldn’t remember ever being so intrigued or wanting a woman so badly. The urge to steal a glance of her as she relined against the back of the tub had been too great and he’d succumbed against his better judgement.

  Water droplets had glistened across her bare shoulders, wisps of damp curls lay against her face, and knowing what she’d tried to discreetly conceal with the towel had caused him such physical discomfort, it had made it difficult for him to leave the room. The most he’d been able to do was touch her cheek

  After a few minutes, he pushed away from the door and headed downstairs. He and Walt were expecting one of the Rangers to visit with their thoughts on why the oil well had exploded causing the fire.

  Walt greeted him at the foot of the stairs. “I think we ought to go back to the office to see how things are going.”

  “I promised Doc I’d keep you here for a couple of days to give your shoulder time to heal. And quite frankly,” Morgan said, “I’m not up to facing Mollie if I don’t follow through on that promise. You know as well as I do the Rangers have the town under control.”

  “Yeah.” Walt huffed out a sigh. “I don’t want to face her either.”

  Morgan chuckled to himself to think one woman had the capability to rule with an iron fist. Yet the irony of that was, he’d married one such woman.

  A short while later, Morgan saw a man ride up to the front gate on his horse. He motioned toward the window and said, “Here’s our guy now.”

  “Good, we need answers.”

  Morgan opened the door to greet the lawman. “Ranger Pike, welcome.”

  “Deputy Grant, Marshal Fountain, it’s good to see you.”

  Walt shook the man’s hand and asked, “How’s the investigation going?”

  “Talking to the men working on the drill site, I believe we’ve come up with a timeline of events and reached a conclusion.” He removed his hat and sat on the settee next to Walt. “Apparently, a roughneck, there’s some debate which company he worked for, held a lantern over the top of a barrel to see what was in it and the flame from the lantern ignited the fumes.”

  “Did he make it?” Walt asked.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Walt shook his head. “There’s no accounting for fools and idiots.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan said, “It never ceases to amaze me the number of ‘em out there. Do you have an identification yet, Jim?”

  “Just a first name. Seems your salon keeper, Beasley, knows him as a troublemaker named, Percy. Do either of you recognize the name?”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I do.” Morgan said, interrupting Walt. “He came in on the same train as Anne. As a matter of fact, he was fairly obnoxious with both her and Iris. I had to show my badge and gun to get him to back down.”

  “We’ll keep digging, trying to locate a positive identification and something about his background. Walt, in the meantime, a witness has come forward naming this same man as your shooter.”

  “Good,” Walt answered. “I didn’t know who he was, but I’d recognize him if I saw him again.”

  “So, would I, if he’s the same man from the depot.” Anne appeared in the doorway fresh from her bath, her dark hair in a long braid over her shoulder. “I couldn’t help but over hear your conversation.”

  “Well ma’am, as it turns out, I doubt we’ll need you to identify him. Marshal Fountain or one of the witnesses from the shooting can probably identify the body.”

  “I am sorry to hear he didn’t survive, but he was a horrid man.”

  Morgan said, “Jim, this my wife, Anne, um Lady Anne Medvale Grant. Anne, Jim Pike, Texas Ranger.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “How long will you be here?” she asked.

  “We’ll be here for as long as we’re needed. Speaking of which, I’d better get back to town.” He bowed slightly and turned for the front door. Stopping before he reached the door, he pulled something from his jacket pocket and turned to Morgan. “Before I forget, this wire came for you.”

  Morgan took the envelope from him, shook hands, and held the door. “Thank you for the information. We do appreciate you making the trip out to keep us informed.”

  After the Ranger rode away, Morgan turned back into the room and opened the envelope. To his surprise, the telegram was from Malcom Carp, the Englishman. The message said he would reach Beaumont within a week. This was good news, as the arrival of Mr. Carp would give him time to get things squared away at the ranch and get Anne settled into her new home. It would be good if she could feel comfortable entertaining Mr. Carp.

  “Not bad news, I hope?” Anne asked, as she took the Ranger’s place on the settee beside Walt.

  “No, it’s good. The man I’m doing business with will arrive next week.”

  Walt stood, grabbed his cup, and headed out of the room. “I’m going to let you two keep on visiting, while I go do something important, like harass Mollie.”

  Morgan shook his head and said, “I’m sure that’ll make her day.”

  Anne raised her eyebrows. “I was thinking the exact opposite.”

  He started to point out he was being sarcastic but decided against it. In time, they would learn each other and figure out how to get along. He hoped.

  “May I ask what kind of business you are in?”

  “I’m in the business of raising cattle and getting them to market.”

  “Oh, do you don your chaps and spurs and drive them up the Chisolm Trail?”

  If she’d been anyone else, he might’ve thought she was teasing but she’d mentioned reading about Texas, and he knew she was serious.

  “I rode the trail in the early days working with my pa,” he said. “These days, with the railroad here, it’s easier to load the cattle into a boxcar and get them to market.”

  “I see, and do you have many business partners?”

  He wasn’t accustomed to talking about his ranch or its commercial inner workings, much less sharing that information, but she was his wife and she had a right to know.

  “Just the one at this time. I’m hoping, with our collaboration, to improve my herd.”

  “And that will happen how?” She gave him a demure smile and said, “I’m not completely naïve, I do know some things about animal husbandry and reproduction. I have visited farms near Higby Castle and Pa-Pa has a marvelous library.”

  “I see.” Another puzzle piece to his bride and her history that made sense. He’d never considered the possibility she’d lived in a castle or that she had a well-rounded education. He didn’t know what he’d expected if he was honest with himself. “I’m looking forward to introducing you to Mr. Carp. I’m hoping you can help him feel more at home while he’s here.
”

  “Who did you say?”

  “Malcom Carp.” Was it his imagination or did her breath hitch at his mention of the name? It was almost imperceptible, but he’d noticed a reaction. “Do you know him?”

  “I believe we’ve been introduced.”

  He’d lost eye contact with her when she’d answered, which told him she hadn’t been completely forthcoming. Why he didn’t know, but he remembered when they’d first met, he’d gotten the feeling she hadn’t told him everything.

  “I thought probably you’d heard of him. I believe he’s from York. Isn’t that where you’re from?”

  “Yes, it is.” She stood, glanced toward the hall outside the living room, and said, “I promised to help Mollie this afternoon. Please excuse me.”

  Morgan watched as Anne left the room. She was definitely keeping something from him, and he wanted to know what her secret was, especially by the time Mr. Carp arrived.

  Anne stepped to the door of the kitchen where Iris sat at the table with Mollie. “Iris, could you help me for a minute?”

  “Of course, my lady.” Iris followed her down the hall to her bed room. When Anne ushered her inside and closed the door, she asked, “How can I help?”

  “You’ll never guess who Mr. Grant’s business partner is.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Mr. Malcolm Carp.”

  Iris turned her head away and hid a grin.

  “What’s so funny?” Anne asked.

  “A few of the maids downstairs, referred to him as fish lips.”

  “So did my sisters and I on the one occasion he came to Higby, with Mr. Smith, at Christmas.” She tried to keep a straight face but laughed despite herself. “Well, be that as it may, he’s privy to the reason for my leaving Higby for America. He could ruin me here, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose he could, my lady,” Iris said, “My advice is to tell Mr. Grant everything before it’s too late.”