Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six)

by Morgan, Kit

  “That's a very good question, I'd like to know that too.”

  He suddenly stood, and hit the table with his knee. Tea sloshed out of their cups, and onto the tray and tabletop. “I'm leaving. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Miss Sayer!”

  “Oh! Look at the mess you've made!”

  “I'm sorry, will you forgive me?” he said, and tried to keep the mocking sound out of his voice. It didn’t work.

  “Well you don't have to get so upset about it! And if it's any consolation, I forgive you for being rude and for making a mess!”

  “Good!” He shoved his hat onto his head, turned and headed for the hallway.

  “Oh, fine, you take my forgiveness and you leave without giving me yours?” she yelled after him.

  He stopped in the foyer, turned, and with an accusing finger, pointed at her. “You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met!”

  “And you are the most infuriating, stubborn man I have ever met!”

  “I'm leaving!”

  “Good, get on out of here!”

  “I will!”

  She stood and stared at him. “Then why aren’t you going anywhere?”

  He suddenly realized he hadn’t moved. He also realized that he didn't want to. Good grief! What was this all about? “Fine, I'm really leaving now!”

  “You do that! I'm going to have tea and cookies by myself!”

  He stared at the tray on the table, and stomped over to it. “These are mine,” he said as he snatched up a few cookies and waved them in front of her. “Good day, Miss Sayer!”

  He turned, strode to the front door and opened it. “I'm sorry!” He left, slammed the door behind him, then stomped his way to his horse. He untied Grady, put the cookies in his shirt pocket, and quickly mounted. He then kicked his horse and cantered away. Good grief! What just happened? He rode to the top of the rise, turned Grady around and stared at the ranch below him. “Oh, no,” he groaned as realization dawned. He liked Apple Sayer. He liked her a lot.

  * * *

  “What was that?” asked Sadie as she and Belle came into the parlor.

  Apple sat down and stared at the empty foyer. “I don't know, but he did take some cookies.”

  “This isn't about cookies,” said Belle.

  Apple refilled her teacup, ignoring the mess on the tray. “He also said he was sorry for being rude to me.”

  “Oh dear, will you look at that,” said Sadie as she said noticed the spilled tea. “I better get a rag to wipe that up.” She turned and left to get what she needed.

  “Was he rude?” inquired Belle.

  Apple looked at her as she took a sip of tea. She set the cup down. “He wasn't the nicest individual that day.”

  “Did you forgive him?”

  “You heard me, didn't you?”

  “Yes and no, the way you two kept going back-and-forth. Part of it we couldn't help but hear, and so when you asked…” Belle put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “We couldn't help but yell back.” She lost her battle and giggled anyway.

  Apple joined her. “That was funny wasn't it?”

  “I can't imagine what he thinks of us now,” commented Belle as she sat on the settee. She picked up a cookie. “I'm sure he'll be back.”

  “You really think so?” asked Apple. “After all that was said?”

  “Of course, look at how long it took him to leave.”

  Apple smiled. “You have a point, but why did he stay? Especially since he was so mad at me?”

  Belle’s mouth started to drop open but she snapped it shut. It was still full of cookie. “You mean you don't know?” she asked, a hand over her mouth.

  “Know what?” asked Sadie as she came into the parlor to clean up the mess.

  Belle swallowed the last of her cookie. “Apple was just asking me why Deputy O’Hare stayed so long, even though they were having a disagreement.”

  Sadie looked between the two of them. “He likes you, Apple. It's as plain as day.”

  “Wha …what?” Apple sputtered and stood. “Likes me? I thought he hated me!”

  “Hardly,” said Sadie as she mopped up the mess.

  “This is terrible!” cried Apple as she came around the table and began to pace the parlor.

  “What's so terrible about it?” asked Belle. “Wouldn't you rather he like you than be mad at you?”

  “No!” said Apple is she spun to face her. “He can't like me!”

  Sadie stood up straight. “Why not? He's a handsome, eligible…,” she looked to Belle “… bachelor!”

  “Exactly!” Belle said and stood. “And he'd be perfect for you, Apple!”

  “No! You can't! I won't let you!”

  “Apple Sayer, what has gotten into you?” asked Sadie. “He's a wonderful match, and obviously very fond of you—in his own hot, Irish-tempered sort of way…”

  “I don't care, I don't want him to like me!” exclaimed Apple.

  Belle sent Sadie a worried look, then took in Apple’s furious pacing. “Apple, what if one of the other men in town wanted to court you?”

  Apple stopped and spun to her. “They can't. I won't let them!”

  “Why not?” Sadie and Belle asked in unison.

  “Because… I… I don't want to get married. Ever!” Apple turned and ran from the parlor.

  Sadie watched her go, then plopped down on the settee and reached for the tea. She poured herself a cup, and took a long swallow. “Did I hear her right?”

  Belle sat next to her and took the other cup. “Yes, I heard it too. But it doesn't make any sense.”

  “No, it doesn't. I think we’d better get to the bottom of this before we start making any wedding arrangements.”

  “I agree. But maybe we ought to wait for Colin and Harrison to get home, then discuss it with Apple over dinner,” suggested Belle.

  Yes, you’re right. Come suppertime, we'll find out what this is all about whether Apple likes it or not.”

  * * *

  Apple paced the floor of her bedroom as fiercely as she had the parlors. Now she was really in a pickle! If Sadie and Belle had anything to say about it, she'd be married to Deputy O'Hare within the week! But she couldn't marry him, or any man, for that matter, lest they die! What was she going to do?

  “I’ll run away! It's the only answer.” She went to the window and looked out at the empty barnyard. If she left now, she’d have a couple hours head start before Harrison and Colin hightailed it after her. But that wouldn't do, they'd catch her, drag her back home, and give her the scolding of her life. Then she'd have to tell everyone her reason for leaving, and they might not believe her. After all, they hadn't had any experience with the Sayer curse, not like she and…

  “Eloise!”

  Hadn’t Eloise told her she thought the curse was at work when she and Seth were courting? If anyone would understand her dilemma, it would be her cousin! “I'll go to town tomorrow and talk with her,” Apple said to herself. “She'll understand, and then maybe she can help me leave town.”

  But would Eloise help her? What if she dismissed the whole thing, informed Colin and Harrison of her intentions, and told them to keep her under lock and key until she was married? But to do so could only lead to tragedy of the worst sort, and Apple could never live with herself if something else happened to Bran O’Hare.

  “Please, Lord, I don't want the man to die because of me.” Correction—she didn't want him to die at all, weather because of her or a stray bullet. After all, she rather liked him.

  Okay, so after this afternoon, she found she liked him more, even if he was cranky, loudmouthed, and a mannerless—okay, so he wasn’t entirely without manners… “Irishmen!” He was fiery, passionate, and for the most part, spoke his mind, except when it came to forgiving her for killing him, but that was besides the point right now. What she had to worry about was how she was going to protect him from the curse, and let no one be the wiser.

  Apple sat on the bed and let out a heavy sigh, then looked arou
nd the room that had been her home since her arrival in Clear Creek. “I'm going to miss this place,” she whispered. “And my family.” She straightened and squared her shoulders. “But I can't let him die.” She looked around the room again. She would need some paper, pen, and ink in order to make a plan, one that would allow her to leave the Triple C and Clear Creek far behind. It was the least she could do for Bran O'Hare after what she'd done to him.

  Eight

  “What's the matter with you?” Sheriff Hughes asked as he came into the office.

  Bran pulled his face out of his hands and looked at him. He'd left the Triple C more than a little flustered, rode back to the sheriff's office, and had sat and puzzled over what happened for the last hour. “Nothing, I'll be fine.”

  “Will be? What about now? What happened, son?”

  “Nothing, Harlan, drop it.”

  Sheriff Hughes took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. He smiled at Bran and let loose a small chuckle. “Woman trouble?”

  “What makes ye think that?”

  The sheriff shrugged. “Cause you got the look of a lonely coyote that's just lost the one chance he had for some female company.”

  “That's ridiculous,” Bran snapped.

  “Not so ridiculous, being as how I know you were out at the Triple C visiting Apple Sayer.”

  “I… well, I… had some things to discuss with her.”

  “Did you get things settled?”

  “No.”

  Sheriff Hughes scratched his head, went to the potbellied stove, and poured himself a cup of coffee. “If you fancy the thought of marrying that gal, be sure I'm the first to know so I can hire on more help, ya hear?”

  “I'm not going to marry anyone! Least of all, Apple Sayer!”

  Sheriff Hughes eyed him over his shoulder, and then returned his attention to his coffee. “Sure you are,” he drawled. “You can say that all you want, but an old codger like me knows better.”

  “Come on, you're not an old codger yet.”

  “Yet,” he said as he turned to face him, and took a sip of coffee.

  “What about you, Sheriff? Do you ever think of getting married?”

  Sheriff Hughes shrugged. “I might, if I find the right woman. Of course in this town that could take a while, but new folks will settle here once the hotel is really underway. Then maybe one day, we’ll see the railroad come through. Now wouldn't that be something?”

  “True,” Bran said more to himself than Sheriff Hughes. “All sorts of folks would be moving west if the rail roads made it this far.”

  “You might miss out on a lot of livin’ with a wife between now and then, son. I’d think twice about marryin’ while you can, especially when there’s a gal available to ya.”

  “She almost killed me.”

  “Come on now, you ain’t still holdin’ on to that, are you? That's the sorriest excuse for not marryin’ I've ever heard.”

  “You weren’t the one locked in that safe.”

  “I don't have to be to see that you've got a spark in your eye for that gal, and it ain’t because you're mad at her.”

  Bran closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the desk. “What if she won't have me?”

  “Why wouldn't she? Forgive and forget as they say, put that safe business behind ya and court her.”

  He looked up at the sheriff. “No, Harlan. I mean, I'm just a deputy with a deputies pay. I sleep in a room at the hotel. I haven't got a house, heck I don't even own a wagon. I'm just a poor Irishman with nothing to give to a woman but the threat of me getting shot in the line of duty.”

  Sheriff Hughes sat on the other side of the desk. “Son, I’m only gonna tell ya this once. A woman like that doesn't come around here—and I do emphasize here in Clear Creek, every day. Now as fate would have it, her intended done got himself shot, which leaves her wide open for another man to marry her. Which, I might point out, have the same chance of getting shot as you do. In fact, you've already had a brush with death so I'd say you get a reprieve for a time. If I were you, I'd marry her before somebody else does.” With that, he stood. “Now, get out of my chair so I can write some reports.”

  Bran shook his head and relinquished the chair to the older man. “Have you never married because you’re a lawman?”

  Sheriff Hughes took his seat behind the desk. “That was part of it, when I was younger.”

  “Do you regret never marrying?”

  Sheriff Hughes looked Bran right in the eye. “Yes, son, I do. The only partner I have in this world is checkers, and it makes a poor bedmate.”

  Bran laughed, but then quickly sobered. “I understand, Sheriff, thank you.” He put on his hat and went to get his coat.

  “Where ya goin’?” asked the sheriff.

  “I think I'll head down to the mercantile and see if I can't find something to give to Miss Sayer as a peace offering.”

  “Candy works real well, or maybe a book, considerin’ them Sayer girls are smart.”

  “I'll keep those in mind,” said Bran with a smile. He turned and left.

  Outside he noticed the temperature had dropped. It was getting colder every day and he wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to have a wife to keep him warm on long, cold, winter nights. He then wondered how Sheriff Hughes had gotten along all these years without the company of a woman, and recalled the flicker of regret in the man's eyes. He hated that look, and hated how regret made him feel. The question was; how much would he regret it if he didn't pursue Apple Sayer?

  He stood on the boardwalk as a cold wind blew past; reminding him he was losing daylight. By the time he got to the mercantile, he decided that if he didn't pursue her, he'd regret it, a lot.

  * * *

  Bran stared at the variety of goods on the shelves and considered the sheriff's suggestion of a book as a suitable peace offering. The problem was, he didn't have much money, and wasn't sure if he had enough for such an extravagance. He casually glanced around, and, satisfied that no one was looking, searched his pockets to see what money he did have.

  “Good day to you, Deputy, I hear you paid us a visit earlier.”

  Bran jumped and almost pulled his gun. He turned into the smiling face of Harrison Cooke. “Mr. Cooke, um… yes. I paid a call on Miss. Sayer.”

  “And how did you find, Miss Sayer, Deputy?”

  Bran blinked at him a few times. “Er… fine?”

  “Really? I heard she was mad as a rattler and threatened to tear you limb from limb.”

  “What?” Bran asked in shock.

  Harrison flew into a fit to hysterics. “So sorry, old chap, but I couldn't resist. But as I understand it from my wife—the most reliable source as she was there; Apple was very upset when you left.” His smile vanished. “Is there something you'd like to speak to me about?”

  “Speak to you? Why would I need to speak to you, Mr. Cooke?”

  Harrison shrugged innocently. “Come now, perhaps you'd like to call again on my cousin? Or maybe come to Sunday supper?”

  Was Harrison Cooke asking him if he planned to court his cousin? “Mr. Cooke…”

  “Harrison, please.”

  “Harrison,” he began again. “What do ye want?”

  Harrison stepped toward him and stared into his face. “The real question, Deputy, is what do you want? My cousin is impressionable and innocent, as you can tell.”

  That got Bran’s hackles up. “Are ye implying I would take advantage of her?”

  “Not at all, on the contrary, I just wanted it made clear, that should you court her, she is liable to lose her heart very quickly. Don’t tamper with it, Deputy, whatever you do.”

  “I have no intention of tampering with Apple's heart, Mr. Cooke.”

  “Good. For I have no intention of allowing you to, nor does my brother. So, now that that's settled, you have our permission to do so.”

  “Your permission?”

  “Of course, Colin and I were placed in charge of Apple by H
is Grace, the Duke. I’ll grant we’re not exactly parents, but we are still her family. We’ll not only see her married, but that she marries well.”

  Bran's eyes drifted to the floor, then back to him. “So I take it I meet your standards, then? Why else would ye give me permission to court her?”

  “You're a good man, O’Hare, of course we’ll let you court Apple. We’d like nothing more than to see you marry her, should the two of you suit.”

  Bran almost sighed in relief right then and there, but his pride wouldn't let him. He nodded at Harrison instead, and held out his hand. Harrison took it and gave it a healthy shake. “I came in here to find something for her,” Bran told him.

  “Really? Tell me, what did you have in mind?”

  “To tell you the truth, Harrison, I’m not sure what to get her. It's more a peace offering, considering what happened this morning.”

  “Ah, I see. Well then, might I make a suggestion?”

  “Please do,” said Bran, hoping he didn’t sound too helpless.

  “Not the book.”

  “Candy then?”

  Harrison shook his head.

  “If not that, then what?”

  Harrison smiled. “Apple, like any woman, loves gifts, but she's different. If I were you, I’d find her something that you could not only give her, but experience with her as well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is… how should I put this… give her something that the two of you can do together.”

  Bran pushed his hat off his forehead. “Well tarnation, Mr. Cooke, how am I going to do that?”

  “Use your imagination, and trust me when I say, she'll love you for it.”

  “I’ve already had one experience with her …”

  “I'm not talking about getting locked in a safe, or kissing her, Deputy, just so you know,” Harrison told him in a stern voice.

  Bran held his hands in front of him in defense. “You brought it up, not me.” Both men laughed at that.

  “What's this I hear about kissing?” called Wilfred from behind the counter.

  Bran and Harrison turned to him. “Wilfred!” Harrison laughed. “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?”