by Kit Morgan
“Oh, I’m glad to hear Mrs. Ridgley sees to every detail. If anyone else in town is looking for a mail order bride, Clayton and I will definitely recommend her establishment.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased. Um … how long do you think before I’ll get a reply?”
“Reply? To what?”
“The message I’m sending?”
“Oh, that. Generally a lot of folks don’t reply at all. Costs money for one. But I do recall Clayton hearing back from Mrs. Ridgley when he sent word Summer got here safely enough though I do think he left out the part about shooting her upon her arrival…”
Elle couldn’t help but laugh at that, albeit a nervous one at best. She just wanted this whole thing to be done and over with so she could get on with being the mail order bride she was sent here to be. Easier said than done. Now she would have to wait. “How long before he heard from Mrs. Ridgley? Do you remember?”
“Hmm, let me see, maybe a week or two? To tell you the truth I don’t rightly recall.”
Elle’s heart sank. How long was she going to have to wait then? And what happened if she didn’t hear from Mrs. Ridgley at all? What if she was blamed for the man’s death, if indeed he died? There were so many unanswered questions! Elle’s stomach knotted and she put a hand to her temple to still the throbbing ache that began every time she thought about the whole big mess.
“Are you all right?” Spencer asked concerned. He took her by the elbow and steered her to a corner of the telegraph office. There he turned her to face him and looked down at her. “I’ve noticed something is troubling you ever since you arrived…”
Elle’s eyes widened at his words. Oh no! What was she going to tell him? Wasn’t not telling him what was wrong the same as lying? She supposed that as long as there wasn’t any asking going on then no. But he was asking now …
“I … I’m overwhelmed with … what it took to get here, finding Summer again …”
“But wasn’t finding Summer a good thing?”
“Oh yes! Of course it was. It’s just that …”
“Is it me, Elle? Aren’t you happy to be here?”
She looked into his eyes. Was he worried she didn’t want to be there? If she put herself in his place, how would she react to her behavior since her arrival?
Elle moaned at the thought and looked to the floor.
“Miss Barstow, I … Elle … you might as well know the truth.”
Her head snapped up.
“I didn’t send for you.”
Her mouth dropped open like a heavy drawbridge. “Wha… what?”
He took a deep breath, glanced about and in a low voice said, “I didn’t send away for you, my mother did.”
She backed up a step. What was he saying? That he didn’t want her? That it wasn’t his idea to send away for a mail order bride in the first place? “I don’t understand.”
He closed the distance between them. “I want nothing but honesty between us. I’ll not start our marriage out with any thing that might mislead the other. So with that said, I want you to know the truth. I didn’t answer the advertisement for a mail order bride and send for you. My mother did.”
She said nothing. All she could do was stand and stare at him. After all she went through to get here, the risk, not knowing if Jethro lived or died, if she had killed a man to protect him … it was all too much. Her knees gave way and down she went.
“Elle!” Spencer cried as he caught her halfway down to the floor. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Elle?”
She didn’t answer, she couldn’t answer. What was she going to say? She was suddenly aware her feet no longer touched the ground and realized Spencer was carrying her across the telegraph office to a chair by the pot-bellied stove. He carefully set her down upon it then took one of her hands in his. “Elle, are you all right? Say something!”
She looked at him numbly. If he didn’t send away for her, then what was she doing here? And why did he want to marry her if he didn’t want a mail order bride in the first place? What was going on? Was he going to marry her to please his mother?
“Elle, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. Let’s go back to the farm, I’ll explain everything.”
“Your mother … Summer …” she said weakly. “They’re waiting at the mercantile.”
It was all she could manage at the moment as realization began to sink in. If in reality he didn’t want her and was going to marry her to please his mother, then where did that leave her? She wanted to have love in a marriage, provided she was able to marry him in the first place what with the mess she was in, but now this? How could things take such a turn? But wait a minute … if Spencer really wasn’t interested in her, then shouldn’t she go back to New Orleans? But no, that wasn’t such a good idea either. Even if Jethro made a full recovery and the man she shot was also still alive, then where would that leave her? Right back where she started. Besides, how was she to get the stage and train fare to make it back? No, if Spencer Riley truly did not desire her, then how could she marry him? Instead she’d have to find a way to make it on her own in Nowhere.
“Elle, look at me,” he said as he tucked a finger under her chin and forced her face up to his. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not saying I don’t like you.”
“But you don’t want me either, is that it?” His words stung. Why didn’t he bring this up days ago when she first arrived?
“Let’s get back to the others then go home. It will be easier to explain everything with Summer and Clayton…”
“Sheriff!”
Elle and Spencer both looked up to find Tom Turner the new deputy standing in the doorway of the telegraph office, his face red from exertion. “What is it, Tom?”
“You’d best come quick like. There’s been an accident.”
“Has anyone gone to fetch Doc Brown?” Spencer asked as he pulled Elle up from the chair, took her by the arm and began to usher her toward the door.
“No sir, on account it is Doc Brown!”
Spencer’s eyes became round as saucers. “What? Are you saying Doc’s been in an accident?”
“Yes sir. We rode out to the Miller place and saw to Mrs. Miller’s youngins’ then on the way back one of the horses threw a shoe. When Doc and I got down out of the wagon to check on the horse, the darn thing kicked him right in the head! I got him in the wagon and came straight back to town. His wife Milly is asking for ya!”
“Oh my Lord! Did you take him to his place?”
“Yes sir, but I had to ask where it was, I don’t know my way around yet. Some men folk helped me get him out of the wagon then Milly sent me to fetch ya. Your ma said I’d find you here. You’d best hurry!”
Spencer gave him a curt nod. “Escort Miss Barstow back to the mercantile for me.” He turned to Elle. “I’ll have Mr. Turner take you home. I’ll join you later. See to it, will you Tom?”
“Yes sir, Sheriff.”
And with that Spencer hurried out the door, down the street, and out of sight.
Elle stood speechless next to the new deputy and stared after him. After a moment she finally spoke. “How badly was the doctor hurt?”
“Looked pretty bad, ma’am. That darn horse knocked him unconscious and he still hadn’t come to when I left him at his house. I’ve seen what a horse can do to a man if’n one kicks hard enough.”
“What is Sheriff Riley going to be able to do for him? He’s not a doctor of any sort.”
“No ma’am. Not that I know of. But the way Doc Brown done explained things, the Riley boys are like family to them. The doc’s wife didn’t ask me to fetch Sheriff Riley because he could do anything to help him. She asked me to fetch him in case Doc Brown doesn’t wake up.”
Tears stung the back of Elle’s eyes at his words. Summer had mentioned some sort of strong kinship between the Rileys and Browns. She didn’t understand what it was but knew the two families were close.
“I’d best take you home now, ma’am.”
“I can’t say, ma’am. I’m no doctor, but … well … I need to get you home now. Let’s go fetch your family from the mercantile and be on our way.”
He motioned toward the door with one hand, his eyes now holding a deep look of concern. Doc Brown must be very bad off, perhaps dying. Summer said he was like a father figure to the Riley brothers, especially Clayton, but that didn’t mean Spencer didn’t care about the man any less.
She followed Tom Turner back to the mercantile where Summer waited, but there was no sign of Spencer’s mother.
“There you are!” Mrs. Quinn exclaimed as Elle and Mr. Turner came through the door.
“Where’s Mrs. Riley?”
“She’s gone to Doc and Milly’s place. She told me to wait here,” Summer said.
“I’m to take you on home,” Tom told her.
“But then how will my mother-in-law get home? She can’t very well ride home on the back of Spencer’s horse. Thank you but we’ll wait for her to return then leave. Clayton drove us here, he can drive us home.”
“Where is Clayton?” Elle asked.
“I don’t know, I think Billy went to look for him the moment he heard what happened,” Summer said then turned to Tom. “Have you seen my husband?”
“No ma’am.”
Summer looked to Elle then, her brow raised in question. “Where on Earth can he be?”
Eight
“But Clayton, she’s clearly not interested in your brother. Talk to Spencer and send her back before she breaks his heart.”
Clayton eyed Charlotte. He’d automatically say she was up to no good if it weren’t for the fact he himself could see it was true. “I’ll speak to him, but don’t count on Miss Barstow going anywhere.”
She smiled prettily up at him. “Oh, I’m not such a ninny as to think that, but I still don’t want to see Spencer get hurt.”
“Here’s your mama’s dress, Charlotte.” Mrs. Jorgensen set a wrapped package on the counter. Clayton had gone to the dressmaker’s shop to order a new dress for Summer. The annual Valentine’s dance was always a festive event in Nowhere and he thought the gift of a new dress from the only dressmaker in town a fine gift for the occasion. Unfortunately, or depending on how one looked at it, he ran into Charlotte who was picking up a dress Mrs. Jorgensen had mended for her mother. Even through Abbey was a fine seamstress, Nellie Davies insisted on having Mrs. Jorgensen do her mending.
Mrs. Jorgensen looked expectantly at Clayton. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here about a dress for my wife.”
Charlotte visibly cringed at the word wife and turned her back on him. “I’ll just be going now, heed what I say Clayton. It’s for Spencer’s own good.”
“Spencer’s or your own, Charlotte?”
Mrs. Jorgensen raised her brow at the remark and quickly looked to Charlotte, eager to soak up any sort of gossip.
“I’m only looking out for Spencer. Believe it or not Clayton Riley, my intentions are … are honorable.”
Clayton tried not to laugh. Anything coming out of Charlotte’s mouth was usually far from honorable. There was always something in it for her. Always. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
She turned to him. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Now I’d best be getting on home. Abbey’s probably halfway there by now.”
“You’re walking? Didn’t you bring the buggy?” Clayton asked.
“Of course, but Abbey took it on home. I decided to walk.”
Clayton immediately looked to her feet. She had a fancy pair of heeled boots on. Not the sort of footwear for walking a mile or so across frozen ground. Clayton inwardly groaned. She probably planned this, but was going to get a big surprise. “You know you can’t walk all the way home in those shoes. Your feet will be blistered and frozen by the time you get there. What were you thinking letting Abbey go on home ahead of you?”
“I felt like a walk.”
“You felt like a flirt!” Mrs. Jorgensen quipped as she turned from the counter to go into the back room of her dressmaker’s shop.
Charlotte glared after her then turned to Clayton. “I’ve had a lot of thinking to do lately, that’s all. I think better when I walk.”
“Mrs. Jorgensen!” Clayton called as he did his best not to roll his eyes at her remark. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Pink! I want pink! I’ll look at your fabric then!” He grabbed Charlotte by the arm and pulled her in the direction of the door.
“Clayton Riley! You don’t have to have such an attitude about my shoes!”
“Would you rather walk home, Charlotte? This is what you planned isn’t it? That I drive you home?”
She looked up at him, her face red. “I can walk just as easily! I don’t have to let you drive me home!”
“Those shoes are not fit for this weather and you know it!”
“Well I never…”
She didn’t get to finish. Clayton opened the door, pushed her through, then grabbing her arm once again, pulled her along beside him toward the mercantile and his wagon. He glanced down once and noted the smiled on Charlotte’s face. He in turn also smiled as he pulled her past the wagon to the mercantile’s steps.
“What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Aren’t you taking me home?”
“Of course, but first I need to fetch my wife.”
Charlotte’s face fell. “Oh. I quite forgot about her.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said as he shoved her through the mercantile door.
“Clayton!” Summer cried. “Where have you been?” Her eyes landed on Charlotte. “What have you been doing?”
Charlotte smiled prettily at her and wrapped her arm through Clayton’s. “Clayton offered to take me home.”
Summer’s face went flat.
“There’s been an accident,” Elle interjected. “It’s Doc Brown. Spencer and your mother are already at the doctor’s house.”
Clayton shook Charlotte off his arm like she was a pill of lint. “What? What happened?”
“Doc Brown got kicked in the head by his horse coming back from the Miller’s place. Milly wants you over there right away,” Summer told him.
“Good God! Stay here then, I’ll be back as soon as I can!”
He turned and hurried from the mercantile. Charlotte watched him go with a look of defeat. “I might as well walk home then.”
Summer’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all you care about? Can’t you think of anyone besides yourself? Doc Brown could be dying!”
Charlotte raised her chin. “What would you know of it? Who says I’m thinking of myself? But then perhaps I am! Why in Heaven’s name would I want to stay here with the likes of you?”
Summer gasped as did Elle.
“I’ll just see myself home, thank you very much!” Charlotte spun on her heel and stomped toward the door.
Elle watched as she stormed out into the cold and stomped down the stairs to the street. “How far out of town does she live?”
“A little over a mile if I remember right. I was only there once and once was enough for me.”
“It’s terribly cold out to be walking that far…”
Summer closed her eyes a moment. “I know you’re right, but she irritates me to no end!”
“I can see that, but …”
“You call her back then, I can’t seem to bring myself to do it, Elle.”
Elle thought on it a moment. She’d witnessed this sort of defiant behavior in the orphanage. It was easy to see Charlotte Davis was defiant, it was also easy to see how she could have gotten that way. Even if it was from her own doing, rejection was a cruel master. Any orphan knew that.
Elle took a deep breath, and went to the door. Sure enough, Charlotte was standing at the bottom of the mercantile’s porch steps, her shoulders heaving from her tears. Elle smiled. Charlotte Davis wasn’t so feisty after all. But … were her te
ars real?
“Miss Davis,” Elle called as she poked her head through the mercantile door. “Won’t you come back inside where it’s warm? I’m sure either Clayton or Spencer will be back with Mrs. Riley and we can take you home.”
Charlotte turned toward her. Her eyes were indeed red from crying. “Well, I suppose I could do that.” She turned away, wiped at her tears, then looked to Elle again. “I could do with a licorice whip.” She lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs and brushed past Elle when she opened the door for her.
Elle watched as the girl went straight to the store counter. “Mrs. Quinn?” Charlotte called. “Some service please!”
Elle shook her head, closed the door, and went to join Summer near the pot bellied stove.
* * *
“I can’t lose him, Clayton. Do ya hear? I just can’t!” Milly Brown cried before she buried her face in her hands.
“He’ll pull through Milly, I know he will,” Clayton said to console her. Whether that was true or not he didn’t know.
“Milly, we’ve made him as comfortable as possible,” Spencer added. “What else do you want us to do?”
“I … I don’t want to be alone with him. What if he wakes up and wants out of bed? You know how stubborn he is!”
“One of us will stay with you then,” Spencer offered.
“I’ll stay, you take the womenfolk on home,” Clayton told him.
Spencer nodded his agreement then looked to their mother as she tucked a quilt around Doc Brown. “You’ve seen this sort of injury before, Milly’” his mother said. "You know he can pull out of it. We’ll be praying.”
“I know, Leona. But I also know that half the time, folks don’t recover. He may never wake up.”
“Now don’t you go thinking that!” Mrs. Riley scolded. “Doc’s a stubborn man, just like you said. He’s too stubborn to up and die on us! Isn’t that right Clayton?”
Clayton put an arm around his mother. “That’s right, if anyone knows it it’s me. Now, how about some of your famous soup, Milly? If I’m gonna stay here and be just as stubborn over Doc livin’ as you are about him dyin’ then I don’t want to do it on an empty stomach.”
