Mail Order Mistake

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Mail Order Mistake Page 14

by Kirsten Osbourne


  Wesley grinned and took a big bite of his stew, chewing it slowly while he watched her. “You really were worried, weren’t you?”

  “Of course I was worried! I love you!” She hadn’t meant to blurt the words out like that. The first time they were said, weren’t they supposed to be kissing or something?

  Wesley put his spoon down and stared at her in surprise. “You do? Why haven’t you ever said so?”

  She shook her head at him. “Why did you think I married you when I’m afraid of being poor if I didn’t love you? Can you think of another single reason I’d have done it?” She made a face at him.

  He laughed. “I guess not.” He tilted his head to the side. “You know I love you too, right?”

  “Well, I kind of figured you must to put up with all my nonsense, but I’m glad to hear you say it.” All at once, it was as if a dam burst inside her and she started crying. “You need to make sure you never get shot again. Do you hear me?” She was shaking with the fear that still coursed through her.

  He almost laughed at her abrupt change in mood, but then realized she was serious. “I understand. I’ll be more careful.”

  “No more approaching wanted men. If you think you see one, you find someone to go after him with you!”

  He nodded just to appease her, knowing as a sheriff there was no way he could ever make sure to do that. He reached out and took her hand in his good one, squeezing it. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She sniffed and wiped her nose with her napkin. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

  “I know.”

  “What were you thinking approaching him that way?” She glared at him.

  Wesley almost laughed at the anger in her voice. She was going through a full range of emotions in a matter of minutes. He knew she was shocked by what had happened, but he was truly enjoying watching the different emotions tumble through her. “I didn’t have time to get someone else. I had my gun out before I said his name.”

  “A lot of good that did you!” Her face turned gray. “What if he has friends who come after you for killing him? You have to teach me to shoot!” She looked around the room absently. “Where’s your gun?”

  Wesley simply shook his head and leaned back against the headboard to watch as she went from angry to scared and back to angry again. Over and over she raged at him and feared for his life. Finally, he understood his new wife.

  “Are you always this worried about things that happen around you?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, no wonder you were always worried about money. You need something to worry about.” He sighed. “Are you going to start worrying about money again now that I’m going to be off work for a few weeks?”

  She shrugged, blushing. “Well, we can use the money I have saved to pay for bills, but I’ll probably want to replace it as soon as you’re better.” She glared at him. “Right now, you’re the most important thing, though. You have to get well.”

  He sighed. “Stop worrying about money. And stop worrying about me. We’re going to be fine.”

  After she’d cleaned up their room and washed the dishes, she helped him get comfortable before settling against his good side.

  “We’re going to be okay. You know that, don’t you?” he asked. When he didn’t receive an answer right away, he asked the question again louder. Only then did he look down and see that his wife was sound asleep.

  *****

  Malinda was standing over Wesley with her hands on her hips the following afternoon. “The doctor said you were going to rest, and you are going to rest if it kills us both! You are not getting out of that bed except to take care of necessities until you’re healed!” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “You have to get better!”

  Wesley glared at her, knowing he was being unreasonable, but unable to handle spending another moment in bed. “Just let me sit up in the parlor and read the paper. I won’t even get dressed.”

  She sighed. “Fine, but if you try to get off the sofa for any reason, I’ll get your handcuffs and fasten you to the sofa. Don’t think I won’t!” She gave him a look that was meant to keep him from even thinking about disobeying her.

  She helped him into the parlor and made sure that he was comfortable before running to the kitchen to get him a big bowl of chicken soup. He’d protested that chicken soup was for sick people and not for gunshot wounds, but she’d refused to listen.

  She’d just set the soup on the small table beside him when they heard a knock at the front door. “Don’t get up! I will handle it.” She glared at him when he started to stand, so he sank back down onto the sofa.

  She opened the door and peeked outside. “I’m Steven Bishop, U.S. Marshal.” He held up a badge for her to look at and she studied it closely, still somewhat concerned Jim Madden had friends who would come and find Wesley.

  She blinked. “Are you here to see my husband?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is he up to visitors?”

  She sighed and opened the door wide. She wanted to tell him to go away, but she knew Wesley would be upset, and right then keeping Wesley quiet and calm was the most important thing. “Come in.”

  She led the marshal, a tall man with blond hair and green eyes, to her husband. “Can I get you some coffee?” she asked.

  The marshal shook his head. “No ma’am. I’ll just be here for a moment.” He turned his attention to Wesley. “The man you killed yesterday was wanted in five states for bank robbery and multiple murders. Were you aware of that?”

  Wesley nodded. “I received a wanted poster with his face on it just yesterday.”

  The marshal frowned. “Those posters should have been here over a week ago.” He obviously was not happy with the slow mail into Gammonsville.

  Wesley shrugged. “It’s a small town and our mail is notoriously slow. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  “I guess not.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s your reward. Five hundred dollars.”

  Wesley took it and laid it on the table in front of him. It was a check in his name, and that’s all he needed to see. “Thank you, Marshal.”

  The marshal shook his head. “We appreciate the good work you did bringing him down.” He tipped his hat at Malinda. “Take good care of him. He saved countless lives by shooting that man yesterday.” He nodded at Wesley. “You have our thanks.” Without another word, he left as quickly as he’d come.

  Malinda stared at Wesley in shock. “You didn’t tell me there’d be a reward for shooting him.” Why hadn’t he said anything?

  Wesley shrugged, a funny one armed shrug with his other arm still in the sling. “You never asked.”

  Malinda looked down at that bank draft. “I’ll put this up. Patrick said he’d come visit you this evening, and he can deposit it for you.” She rushed off into the kitchen.

  He watched her as she calmly put the check on the work table in the kitchen. “Why don’t you seem more excited by the money?”

  “I don’t really care about money. I just don’t want to be destitute. I already knew we wouldn’t be, so having more isn’t a big deal to me.” She knew people thought she was money hungry, but the truth was, she wasn’t. Stability mattered to her, not riches.

  Wesley shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

  “You don’t have to. You just have to eat your soup so you can heal.” She sat down beside him, and picked up her own bowl of soup so he wouldn’t have to eat alone.

  “You’re being bossy again.”

  “You’re being a bad patient again.” She took a bite of her soup and smiled at him over the top of her bowl.

  “I’m glad you don’t care about the money.”

  “I never did.”

  Epilogue

  August 1886

  Malinda sat back in her chair at the kitchen table as she thought about how she wanted to respond to the letter she’d just received from Harriett Long. She wa
s thrilled with the other woman’s news, of course, but it was taking a minute for it all to sink in.

  After a moment, she put pen to paper and wrote, “Dear Harriett, Your news has both stunned and excited me more than I could ever express. I’m so happy you’ve found happiness at last. Over the time I’ve known you, you’ve always seemed as if you were merely content, but I have finally read true happiness in this letter. I can’t wait to tell Ellen. She’s going to be just as overjoyed for you as I am. Has she written since she had the baby? It was a girl, and they named her Sally. She’s a perfect little thing who looks like a porcelain doll. Jonathan isn’t quite sure what to think of her, because she’s taking up a lot of attention from his mama that he’d come to expect. Thank God she has Angela to help her.” Malinda looked down at her own rounded belly. “I have another two months to go before my little one will arrive, but Wesley and I have decided on names. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, we’re naming it after you. Harry if it’s a boy or Harriett if it’s a girl. You have been such a wonderful influence in my life, I couldn’t live with myself if my firstborn wasn’t named for you. You’re not only a dear friend, but you saved Ellen and I from the unknown. So thank you. I’ll close now, before I get tears all over your letter. Much love, Malinda.”

  She folded the paper in thirds and set it aside, getting slowly to her feet to set the table for dinner. Wesley would be home any minute. She couldn’t wait to give him Harriett’s news.

 

 

 


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