Golden State Brides

by Keli Gwyn

  “I’m sorry, M–miles.”

  Dead-Eye snatched the envelope out of her hand. He tried to slip it in the inside breast pocket of the trail coat with his free hand while maintaining eye contact, but he was forced to look down to locate its whereabouts in the new garment.

  In that brief instant Miles inclined his head ever so slightly in the direction of his revolver. She gave him the barest hint of a nod in return.

  “Well now, that’s a right nice turn of things. I come in for some new togs and to clean out your till, and I get a bonus for my work.” The outlaw patted the bulging pocket. “Now, Ellie girl, open that there drawer and give me everything in it, or your man’s buzzard bait.”

  She pulled out the currency and slapped it on the counter in front of him. With hands now shaking violently, she scooped up the coins. They slipped through her fingers and rolled across the floor. “Oh no! I’m sorry.”

  “Dumb fool woman! Don’t stand there gawkin’. Get down and pick ’em up, every last one. And be quick about it. I got places to go.”

  Dead-Eye’s finger was on the trigger. Her vision swam, and the blood pounded in her ears, but she mustn’t lose her head now. She scrambled around on her hands and knees. When she’d gathered a handful of coins, she dropped them on the counter. They clattered on the varnished wood surface.

  She hadn’t fired Miles’s Colt in months, but he’d been right about the range during a holdup. No way would she miss at this distance, even with a trembling trigger finger.

  The next few seconds seemed like hours. She tossed a few more coins on the counter.

  While Dead-Eye scraped them into his hand, she grabbed Miles’s gun, pulled back the hammer, stood, and pointed the revolver at the outlaw. In the same instant Miles smashed his clasped hands down on Dead-Eye’s arm.

  The outlaw’s gun went off.

  Glass shattered

  His revolver hit the floor.

  Miles kicked the weapon out of the way.

  The outlaw went for his other gun, but Miles grabbed Dead-Eye’s hands, pinned them behind his back, and shoved him forward. “Move it, mister! We’ll deal with you out back.”

  Elenora kept the revolver aimed at the outlaw as she walked along beside the two men.

  Dead-Eye let out with a raucous laugh. “Ain’t this a sight. A girlie with a gun. You even know how to use that thing?”

  “I killed the last intruder that came in my shop,” she said without hesitation, her voice firm. “Unless you want to suffer the same fate, you’d better do what my husband says.”

  “And don’t even think of trying anything,” Miles snarled. “If you value your life, you’ll go nice and easy. She’s a crack shot.” He shoved Dead-Eye forward.

  When she was past the counter, Elenora got in position behind the outlaw. She had the gun trained on him, her finger poised and ready to slip before the trigger and squeeze it if need be.

  They made it out the back door and onto South Street without any trouble, but without warning Dead-Eye rammed his heel into Miles’s shin.

  Miles groaned and dropped to his knees.

  The outlaw tore the gun from Elenora’s hands.

  Two shots rang out.

  Dead-Eye fell on top of Miles.

  Elenora screamed and rushed to Miles. With strength born of necessity, she dragged the outlaw off him and beheld a sight that caused her deeper agony than anything she’d ever seen.

  Miles, the man she loved, lay motionless in the dusty street, the front of his white apron drenched with blood.

  She threw herself on top of him. “No! Dear Lord, no! Not Miles. Please, not Miles.”

  Chapter 30

  Mrs. Watkins.” Sheriff Henderson placed a hand on her shoulder. “Come now, Elenora, let the poor man up.” He helped her stand. “Miles is fine. Look.”

  He unfolded himself and got to his feet.

  “You’re not dead!” She was in his arms in an instant, clinging to him and shaking violently. “Miles! Oh Miles, I was so scared.”

  “It’s all right now. I’m fit as a fiddle.” He crushed her to him, his heart drumming against her ear.

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “I know this has been a shock and all, but I’ve got a dead man to deal with and will need to ask you two some questions.”

  She ended the embrace. For several seconds she stared at Miles with her mouth agape, still as a statue. She’d thrown herself at him in full view of the sheriff and several others. She’d even called him by his first name. And yet he didn’t say a word, smile, or give her any indication of his feelings.

  How could she have misread things so badly? She’d been so sure he cared about her as much as she did him.

  Somehow she managed to regain her speech and did her best not to come across as a hysterical female, even though she must have sounded like one when she’d forgotten herself moments before. “That awful man shot you. I heard the shots, and you both fell.”

  “He got off a shot that missed me mere seconds before Hank shot him. He knocked me backward when he fell on me.”

  “The sheriff shot him? But I didn’t see anyone else.”

  “He and the others were behind the shrubs in my yard.” He motioned to the men who’d emerged from the hedge across the alley from the mercantile. “You were so focused on the outlaw, you didn’t notice them. But I did. I dropped after the scoundrel kicked me so I could give them a clear shot.”

  “I’m sorry I let him get your gun, but he took me by surprise.”

  “If it hadn’t been mine, it would’ve been his. Don’t discount yourself. You were remarkable.” His eyes shone.

  Miles was pleased with her. Really, truly pleased with her. And that knowledge pleased her to no end.

  “Mama! Mr. R!” Tildy flung herself at them. “You’re all right.”

  “Miles!” Mrs. Rutledge stopped short when she saw his bloodstained front. “Merciful heaven. Are you all right, son?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “They told us you and Elenora were in trouble and to stay inside, but we heard the shots and the scream.”

  “I know it looks bad, but this fellow missed me.” He nodded toward the outlaw, who lay facedown on the street.

  “Do you have any idea who he was?” Sheriff Henderson asked.

  “None,” Miles said, “but whoever he was, he died wearing some of the finest clothes Rutledge Mercantile has to offer. That’s what he’d come in for. That and all the money he could get his hands on.”

  “I think he was Dead-Eye Dan, Sheriff,” Elenora volunteered. “Tildy saw his name on a wanted poster, and when I noticed that his right eye roamed, I made the connection. I’d be willing to testify he’s the same man who held up the stagecoach the day Tildy and I arrived in town.”

  “Oh, Mama. He would’ve shot us that day if hadn’t been for the Talbot twins, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, dear. I believe he would have, but the Lord used them to protect us.”

  Sheriff Henderson shook his head. “We won’t be able to put a stop to Tommy and Timmy’s boasting when they hear who they ran out of town. Dead-Eye Dan was wanted for three murders up in Placer County. I’ll send a telegram, and they’ll have someone here to identify him right off.”

  Miles laid his violin in its case on the table in his parlor. Ellie had managed to make it through their duet, although after two weeks with little practice, she was rusty. “Are you sure you feel up to performing tonight?”

  She put her instrument away and sank onto the settee. “My first morning back might have been more draining than I’d expected, but I’m not about to let that man rob me of anything else. I’ve looked forward to this concert for months.”

  Tildy plopped down beside Ellie. “But the sheriff said he wouldn’t have made off with too much money, just the new clothes from Mr. R’s shop.”

  Miles chuckled. “That’s because your mama put one big bill at the front of her deposit, but all that was behind it were outdated fliers. That was some shrewd plannin
g if you ask me.”

  Ellie rewarded him with a smile. She’d been amazing. When he’d taught her to shoot, he never expected the life she’d save would be his.

  “Oh Mama, you were so brave. I wish I could’ve been there to see you take on an outlaw.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t. I had enough on my mind without having to worry about you.”

  “Would you have shot him?”

  Now that the excitement was over, there would be no end to Tildy’s questions. Poor Ellie would be answering them for weeks.

  “I don’t like to think about it, but yes. If I hadn’t been afraid I’d miss and shoot Mr. Rutledge by mistake, I think I would have. I’ve never been as scared in all my life as I was when that awful man put a gun to his head.”

  Miles settled into his armchair. “And I’ve never been as proud as I was when your mama figured out how to get Mrs. Dupree to help us. The sheriff said she got the entire town to come to our rescue. There were men on roofs, up trees, and behind my shrubs.”

  Tildy scrunched her face. “What did Mrs. Dupree do?”

  “When she came in the shop, the outlaw ordered your mama to get her out fast, so she told Mrs. Dupree I was sick and asked her to let the sheriff know we’d not be at fiddle practice.” And she’d referred to him as her husband.

  If only that were true, but she still insisted she was leaving the day after tomorrow, even though she’d thrown herself at him and shrieked his name at the top of her lungs—his first name. She’d clung to him, and he’d wanted to hold her and never let go, but she’d pushed away just as she had after the wall of her shop had collapsed. And she’d kept her distance ever since.

  He’d promised the Lord he would let her go if that’s what she wanted, but honoring his promise could turn out to be far more difficult than he’d expected.

  “I was glad Pearl understood what I was trying to say and that you figured out some of the men who’d come to help us would be out back and led us there. That was clever.”

  “Not as clever as you telling that outlaw you’d killed the last intruder in your shop. If he’d known you meant a snake…” Miles laughed.

  “I know Sheriff Henderson shot Dead-Eye Dan, Mama, but I still think you should get the reward. But there’s one good thing. I won’t be in trouble for reading wanted posters now, will I?”

  Ellie cupped Tildy’s face in her hands. “You can read them to your heart’s content, sweetheart, and I won’t say a thing about it.”

  Miles rubbed his ear as if to clear it. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’ve changed.”

  “Oh, I do hope so.”

  She had. She’d overcome one obstacle after another and grown stronger in the process, and yet at the same time she’d softened into someone who didn’t take life as seriously. Her faith had deepened, and she’d welcomed the townspeople into her heart. She was a wonderful mother, a good friend, and a successful businesswoman.

  But it wasn’t enough. Ellie wanted more, and she was going elsewhere to find it. He’d known Grayson was trouble the minute he’d laid eyes on him.

  Miles had one thing to offer Ellie the older man didn’t, though. Would it be enough?

  Elenora stood before the mirror in the guest room of Miles’s house and smoothed the skirt of the satin gown Mrs. Rutledge had made for her. The dress was several shades lighter than the two wide strips of dark purple velvet running the length of the bodice on either side of the buttons. Hopefully people would focus on the stunning creation and not her pale complexion.

  Battling the measles for two weeks had taken its toll. Her face was as white as the one on Tildy’s porcelain doll. Elenora felt as fragile as the ceramic creation. When she’d seen Miles flat on his back in the alley behind his shop with bright red blood covering his chest, she’d been so sure she’d lost him. At that moment she’d come face-to-face with the truth. She loved him with every fiber of her being.

  But he didn’t love her. If he did, surely he would have said something by now. After her display that morning, he had to know how she felt. As it was, she’d spent the rest of the day struggling to remain outwardly calm, while inside her heart was breaking. If she were prone to tears, she’d have exhausted her supply of handkerchiefs by now.

  She joined Mrs. Rutledge and Tildy in the parlor.

  “You look pretty, Mama.”

  “So do you.”

  “Watch me.” Tildy spun so Elenora could admire her peach chiffon gown from every angle. “Did you notice my skirt goes all the way down to my boot tops? I feel so grown up.”

  Mrs. Rutledge patted Tildy’s shoulder. “You’ll be ten in a few weeks, so I thought a young lady like you should have a longer skirt.”

  “She’s right, Tildy. You aren’t my little girl any longer. You’re growing up.”

  “You’ve changed, too, my dear, in many ways.” Mrs. Rutledge adjusted the ribbon flowers on either side of Elenora’s collar. “You’ve let God work in your life, and it shows. And you’ve shown El Dorado what a difference one woman can make. You’ll make us all proud tonight.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the encouragement—and the beautiful dress. I feel more confident knowing I look my best. I need to be going now. I’ll see you both in a few minutes.”

  Elenora shuddered when she reached the place on South Street where the shooting had taken place. God had kept Miles from harm. But she must bid him farewell.

  She mounted the stairs to Rutledge Hall, her violin case in hand. Tonight was her debut performance. Sadly it would also be her last.

  The spacious room grew quiet when the curtains opened half an hour later, and Mr. Morton addressed the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you to the Mud Springs Musical Society’s fall concert. Please join me in acknowledging our gracious benefactor, Miles Rutledge, whose generous contributions help make the Society the fine institution it is.”

  Miles stepped forward. “I want to thank you for your support as Mrs. Watkins and Tildy battled the measles. God graciously spared them, and there were no other cases in town. And then this morning you rallied around Mrs. Watkins and me as we dealt with another threat. The Lord used you to minister to us in our time of need, and I’m grateful for all you’ve done. I hope you enjoy the concert.”

  Abe introduced the first selection. “We’ll be starting off with a lively piece that warms our fingers up nicely, the final movement of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik, which my German friends tell me means a little smooth music at night.”

  They began, and Elenora was transported to another place with no measles, no murderers, and no man expecting her in Marysville—a peaceful place where her soul took wings.

  A violinist announced the next number. She did her best to focus on it and not to think about her impending move.

  When the applause died down, Sheriff Henderson rose to introduce the third selection, and she gulped. Despite her attempts to keep her feelings under control, her eyes stung and her throat grew tight. Somehow she made it through the piece.

  Before she knew it, Miles informed the audience that she was to join in him in a duet of the closing number, Bach’s Double Concerto for Two Violins and Orchestra. She stood and moved into position.

  Lord, You know my heart. Please be with me as I play.

  She and Miles faced each other, their violins in position, their bows poised above the strings. Mr. Morton lifted his baton. Moments later the room was flooded with the beauty of Bach’s creation.

  Everyone but Miles faded from view. She played for him alone. The music became the words she longed to share. She couldn’t tell him how much she loved him, but she would do her utmost to show him.

  Never in all the months they’d practiced had the piece sounded like this. Their transitions as lead were seamless, the sequences where one violin seemed to chase the other exquisite, and the sections during which they accompanied each other a perfectly balanced duet. She thrilled at the intimate dialogue between their instruments
.

  When the concerto ended Miles took her hand, and she curtsied. The appreciative audience jumped to their feet and filled the room to the rafters with their thunderous applause.

  After his bow, he put up a hand to silence them. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you’d like to offer your congratulations to Mrs. Watkins on her fine performance, but I’ve waited all day for a few minutes alone with her. So if you’ll excuse us…”

  He handed his violin to Abe, and Hank took hers. Every pair of eyes followed Miles and her as he escorted her to the door, where Tommy and Timmy flanked it.

  What was Miles doing taking her out of the hall like this? Why didn’t someone say something? Why didn’t he?

  “Is everything ready, gentlemen?” he asked the twins.

  “Yes siree, Mr. Rutledge. And we’ll take care of the other, too.”

  Tommy handed Miles a lit lantern, and he led the way to the street below. He released her hand and put his at the small of her back.

  “Where are we going?” Could it be he had something special planned after all? Or perhaps he simply hoped for a farewell kiss.

  “I have something to show you.”

  She half expected him to take her into his garden where they’d sat on the bench beneath the large oak tree, but he turned toward Main Street instead. “What is it?”

  “Have patience, Ellie.”

  Patience? She’d waited all afternoon and evening, and he’d said nothing. Once they’d finished their practice, he’d insisted she stay at his house and rest while he oversaw the repairs to the door of his shop. If she hadn’t been so tired, she’d have protested, but she needed that nap.

  And now he wanted to show her something when all she really wanted was to hear something? Something that would give her a reason to remain in El Dorado.

  They rounded the corner, and he guided her down the walkway toward the mercantile. The glow of the lantern revealed two half-barrels filled with plants, one on either side of the door. They drew closer, and she squinted. “Are those…violets? They’re lovely.”