Emily: Army Mail Order Bride

by Mercy Levy

  Matthew let out a low sigh. “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a miserable voice. “My Pa was away on business. He left me in charge. I wasn’t much older than twenty and still green behind the ears.”

  “Bank robbery?” I asked.

  “Three men known as the Logging Gang robbed a bank in the town my brother was living in,” Samantha explained.

  “Bear Flats.”

  “Yes,” Samantha said and continued. “I was in the bank the day those three scoundrels robbed it. One of the bank tellers was shot dead…oh, it was awful, bloody, mess. But that man standing right there,” Samantha pointed up at Matthew, “was waiting for them outside and went gun to gun with them. He shot two of them outlaws deader than dirt. The third one got away with the bank money; he was never seen again.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” I asked. I looked up at Matthew. “You managed to kill two bad men. Why do you look as if you committed a horrible crime?”

  “The bank teller who was shot dead was my brother,” Matthew said in tormented voice. “The man who killed him go away.” Matthew looked down at me. “You sing very pretty, ma’am. I’d better be getting back to my duties. Night.”

  Samantha watched Matthew walk away. “My, now there is a man that is being tormented on the inside of his soul.”

  “So sad,” I whispered. “His brother was killed and he blames himself.”

  “You should have seen that man taking on the Logging Gang, gun to gun,” Samantha told me and drank some more water. “He stood out in the middle of the street and met them face to face. The Logging Gang came bursting out of the bank, guns on fire, trying to gun down anyone in their way. Matthew Barrymore stood his ground, gunned down two of the outlaws…the third one ran out a back door and managed to escape. Matthew didn’t know there was a third man until it was much too late.”

  “I guess that’s why he left Texas, then, right?”

  “But why come to this town?” Samantha asked herself. “Well, let’s not think any more on this. My tummy is rumbling and I’m tired enough to sleep for a week.”

  “I second that,” I told Samantha, even though I didn’t feel tired enough to sleep. My mind felt exhausted, not my body. But by the time I ate dinner and retired to my room, I fell right to sleep and dreamed of Matthew Barrymore standing out in the middle of a deserted street holding his right shoulder. I awoke startled and scared.

  The next morning I went down to the dining room alone for an early coffee. I found Matthew sitting at a table by himself, drinking a cup of coffee, and cleaning his gun. “Good morning,” I said attempting to sound cheerful.

  “Oh, morning, ma’am,” Matthew said and stood up. “Join me for a cup of coffee?”

  “I suppose that will be okay,” I said and sat down across from Matthew. A gentle Chinese man hurried over to the table wearing a brown shirt and wearing a black cap on his head. “Coffee, please,” I smiled up at him.

  “Coffee, yes, ma’am,” the sweet Chinese man said and bowed at me before he hurried away.

  “That’s a good man,” Matthew told me and pointed at the Chinese man. “Humble, hardworking, dedicated, faithful, and loyal. Not to mention he cooks the best steak I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Yes, dinner was very good last night,” I agreed and looked around. The sun was barely up. “Seems like we’re both early risers. No one else in down for coffee yet.”

  “I napped at the jail,” Matthew told me in a calm voice. “Had a little trouble last night. A few of the guys got a little rowdy.”

  “Oh?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Matthew assured me. “It was mostly the whiskey. Too bad I can’t outlaw that poison.”

  “Yes, a shame,” I admitted. A minute later the Chinese man returned with a blue cup holding delicious hot coffee, placed the cup down on the table, smiled, bowed, and hurried away again. I picked up the cup and took a careful sip of my coffee. “Very good.”

  Matthew nodded his head. “Are you going to perform again tonight?” he asked me and went back to cleaning his gun. “I enjoyed your singing. I know a bunch of the guys don’t understand what you’re singing about and act foolishly in your eyes. I’m sure sorry for that too.”

  “Do you understand what I’m singing about?” I asked Matthew.

  “Your songs tell a story,” Matthew smiled even though he kept his eyes low. “Not many folks around this part understand the language you sing in. My mother was from Italy, so I understand the language.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be,” Matthew assured me. “My Pa was full blooded Irish and my Ma was full blooded Italian. They fought like worse than two hungry wolves fighting over a bare bone. I learned most of what I know of my Ma’s language from hearing her yelling at my Pa all the time.”

  “I see.”

  Matthew raised his eyes and gave me a quick glance. “You look like you have…a little Irish in you…maybe some English—”

  “I’m half Jewish, half Cherokee,” I explained. “My mother was Jewish. She fell in love with a Cherokee man. I never knew my father, though. He was killed by four men who claimed he kidnapped my mother.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” I replied and sipped at my coffee. “At times I wonder what my father was like? What his voice sounded like? What his face looked like? How his smiled looked like? I was very young when my mother died, and she never spoke of my father. Samantha, the woman I was with last night, told me most of what I know.”

  “Is Samantha your kinfolk?”

  “My second mother,” I said and nodded my head. “She raised me after my mother died.”

  “Good folk in this old world.”

  “Yes, they are,” I agreed. “And speaking of good people, you seem to be one of them. From what the story I heard last night, you appear to be a very brave and gallant man.”

  “Not really, ma’am,” Matthew confessed. “I was mighty scared the day I took on the Logging Gang. I didn’t even know who I was gunning at until later. I thought the Logging Gang was down in the southern part of Texas.”

  “Still,” I added, “you fought bravely and killed two very bad men. I know your brother was killed, and I’m very sorry for that, but at least you managed to kill two men who will no longer be able to hurt anyone.”

  Matthew sighed. “Ma’am, I appreciate your kinds words. The truth is, I can’t really pat myself on the back. My brother is dead, and I let the man who shot him get away.”

  “The man who escaped ran away like a coward, through a back door, from what I was told.”

  “Be that as it may, ma’am, Jared Logger got away, and my brother was buried without justice being served,” Matthew replied. He looked up into my eyes and stared at me. “Mighty rough land for you to be traveling through alone.”

  “I have Samantha.”

  “Even so,” Matthew warned me, “there are some rough characters out there on the trail. Ain’t fitting for two women to be traveling alone.”

  “Samantha and I have been traveling alone for five years now. Sure, we’ve had a few rough moments, but God has always protected us.”

  Matthew continued to stare at me. “You’re a Christian, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I am,” I smiled. “Even though sometimes I forget to be grateful for the little things I’m given and act like a pouty brat. Still, God loves me and works on my heart.”

  “How do you act like a pouty brat?” Matthew asked.

  “Oh,” I said and sighed, “my dreaming of living in San Francisco or Sacramento, becoming a famous singer, living in a big house, eating fancy meals, going to snobby social gatherings, sipping champagne,” I shook my head. “Silly things that I don’t think God would approve.”

  “Why?”

  “Because being humble is difficult for me,” I explained. “Last night Samantha taught me to be grateful for what I have and to understand that God is giving me exactly what I need, not what I want. There’s a big difference. I know if I were to become fa
mous I would never be humble again. Sad, but true.”

  Matthew nodded his head. “At least you’re honest.”

  I sipped on my coffee. “I do want a home and a patch of land for myself,” I admitted. “I do want to be recognized as a singer too. I’m not always going to be able to sing in this dusty little towns. I have my future to think about, you know,” I said in an urgent voice.

  “I bet,” Matthew agreed.

  I nodded my head. “A girl has to keep a smart mind these days,” I added. “Someday my break will happen, I’m sure of that.”

  “Will you stay humble when it does?”” Matthew asked.

  “I’ll sure try,” I smiled. “Besides, as much as I fuss and complain, God already has my future figured out for me. All I’m doing is walking in footsteps that have already been set down on my path.”

  “That’s a great deal of faith you’re talking about.”

  “I guess it is,” I said and wondered why I was speaking of faith to a man who seemed to lack faith? “Do you have faith?”

  Matthew tapped his gun. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “I mean in God,” I corrected myself.

  Matthew grew silent. He looked down at his gun and began wiping down the barrel with a brown, oily, rag. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’ll believe in God when God believes in me.” And with those words, Matthew stood up, gathered up his gun, and walked away.

  Chapter 2

  On Stage

  “Oh,” I said and stomped the floor in my hotel room, “what a time for it to rain.”

  Samantha stood at the window in my room and stared down at the street. The sky outside was dark, gray, and filled with hours of heavy rain. “The roof over the stage is leaking something awful. The show has been canceled until tomorrow night. Don’t worry. We have plenty of money and those Cowboys will be more than happy to wait a day or two to hear you sing again.”

  I plopped down on the left side of my bed and shoved my hands under my chin. I let my eyes walk down onto the lovely green dress I was wearing. I felt pretty, even though I was sure I looked like a green bean. “Another day in this town,” I fussed.

  “I agree this town is a bit rough. Last night there was a murder.”

  “A murder?” I asked.

  Samantha nodded her head. She kept her eyes focused on the wet street below. “The Sheriff had to gun down a man who shot his friend down in cold blood, right there in the middle of the street.”

  “I…he told me there had been a little bit of trouble, but…a murder…my goodness,” I exclaimed. I raised my head up and looked at Samantha. “Maybe we should leave this town?”

  “Not in this rain, and not a night,” Samantha warned me. “Besides, if we get one more show in we’ll have enough money to travel to Carson City and stay a few days. Carson City is a bit tamer than this town. We’ll be better off there.”

  I sighed. “Carson City is a fine place,” I said, “but I’ve sung there four times in the last two years. I’ve sung in every town in this territory. Maybe,” I suggested, “we can travel to…California?”

  “No,” Samantha told me. “Beth, those fancy city’s aren’t what you need.”

  “Oh, pooh,” I fussed again. Deep down, in my heart, I knew Samantha was protecting me from losing my heart and soul to the glitter and fame of show business.

  Samantha pointed down at the street. “There goes Matthew,” she said in a whisper.

  I stood up and walked over to the window. Samantha pointed down at the street. I spotted Matthew down on the street wearing a black coat. He walked up to two men who were standing outside of a General Store. The two men were arguing about something. “What’s he doing?” I asked.

  “Watch and see,” Samantha told me.

  I watched Matthew speak to the two men for a couple of minutes and then, to my shock, step back and yank out his gun faster than anything a bolt of lightning running across the sky. The two men threw their hands up in the air. Matthew approached them, retrieved their guns, and then marched them away. “Now what was that all about?”

  Samantha stepped away from the window. “Why don’t we ask Matthew to join us for supper tonight and we’ll find out.”

  A strange tingling sensation touched the edge of my nose. I turned and looked at Samantha. “Now wait a minute,” I said, “are you trying to pass me off?”

  “No, of course not,” Samantha smiled. “I just so happen to think that Matthew has the makings of a good husband, that’s all. And you can’t stay single all your life. Someday I would like a grandchild.”

  My face turned red. “I don’t even know the man. Goodness gracious, Samantha. I’m ready to get married. And when I do, I want to at least know who I’m marrying…I want love.”

  “I know you do,” Samantha said in a soft voice. “I see your eyes hungering for love.”

  “I’m sure not going to find love in this duty little nightmare of a town,” I told Samantha. “As a matter of fact, I must insist we leave as soon as the rain stops.”

  Samantha shook her head no. “No more performance,” she pleaded with me. “We need the money. And then it’s off to Carson City. I’ll buy you a new dress and get you some new hats.”

  “And then what?” I said in a sad voice. “Where will I wear my new dress and my new hats? In towns like the one we’re in right now?” I walked back to the bed and sat down. “Maybe we can try St. Louis or maybe…even Boston? My mother was from Boston.”

  Samantha walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. “I made your mother a promise to raise you the right way. I intend to keep that promise. When you’re ready to challenge a fancy city, we’ll go. But right now you’re heart isn’t ready or wise enough. You would fall victim to the first rodent who paid you a fake compliment. Besides, it’s like I said, we would starve to death just waiting for you to get an audition.”

  I wanted to object to Samantha’s statement and insist that I was mentally and emotionally prepared to challenge a large city, but inside of my heart, I knew Samantha was right. She was the one who slugged the man who grabbed my arm the night before. How would I have protected myself if Samantha had not been present? “It’s almost dinner time.”

  “I think I may take a walk over to the jail,” Samantha smiled. “Maybe there is a piece of gold in this coal mine, after all?”

  “No,” I begged. “Please, I have nothing in common with that man. We spoke earlier this morning. He doesn’t believe in God. The Bible teaches us not to be unequally yoked.”

  “The Bible also teaches us to preach the Good Word,” Samantha smiled and hurried out of my room before I could stop her. I shook my head, stood up, walked back to the window, and looked down at the rainy street. I spotted a man wearing a gray coat riding up the wet street with a black hat pulled down over his eyes. A cold chill slithered down my spine. I shivered and backed away from the window and hurried downstairs.

  An hour later Matthew walked into the dining room, dripping with rain, spotted Samantha and me sitting at our usual table beside the window, and walked over to us. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said and politely sat down and removed his black coat. “Busy day today.”

  “Yes,” I said trying to sound casual in the eyes of the other patrons, “I saw you make an arrest earlier from the window of my room.”

  Samantha kicked my leg. “What she means is,” she said and gave me a tough eye, “is that we saw you arrest two men.”

  Matthew situated himself and relaxed. “Two whiskey drinking miners who were intent on robbing the general store for supplies,” he explained. “They were too drunk to agree on which one of them was going to hold the gun and which one was going to steal the supplies and too stupid to realize that they’re bickering was being heard by Mr. Smith, the man who owns the general store.”

  I couldn’t help but toe grin. “Really?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matthew said. “I dread payday in this town. Men drink and lose their senses, while others, like those two miners, drink th
eir money away and act a fool.”

  “I saw the trouble you had out on the street last night from my room,” Samantha told Matthew.

  “Yes,” I added, “I was unaware that you had to shoot down a man.”

  Matthew shook his head. “A drunk cowhand…brave on whiskey…gunned down his friend for mouthing off to him.” Matthew lowered his eyes. “He drew on me too. I had no choice.”

  I heard sadness and regret eat through Matthew’s voice. It was clear he didn’t like killing. Who did, I thought? “You must see a lot of violence.”

  “Whiskey causes men to act stupid,” Matthew replied. He raised his eyes and looked at me. “Men act stupid enough without whiskey interfering.”

  “Amen to that,” Samantha said. “My late husband drank his money away. He would take his bottle, invite his rich friends over, and play cards until the sun came up.”

  “Sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

  “Don’t be,” Samantha told Matthew and smiled at him. “Let’s talk cheerfully. Now tell me, are you married?”

  I kicked Samantha’s leg. Samantha kicked me back. “No ma’am, not married,” Matthew said and looked at me. “Haven’t found the right woman yet.”

  “The life of a lawman is difficult,” Samantha replied and hinted at me to take up where she left off.

  “Uh…yes, I suppose you’re it takes a certain type of woman to be the wife of a lawman,” I said and gave Samantha a mean eye. Samantha winked at me.

  “Well,” Matthew said and then hesitated.

  “Well, what?” Samantha asked. “Spit out your thoughts and stop chewing on them.”

  “Perhaps it would be rude to insist a person speak when they are not ready,” I told Samantha through gritted teeth. Matthew gave me a strange look.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I promised Matthew. “The wonderful lady sitting next to you is desperately attempting to get us hitched. I, on the other hand, think her plan is quite foolish. We are perfect strangers. I am a singer. You, sir, are a lawman. I believe in God. You, sir, do not. We are not compatible in the heart and personal belief.”