by Kit Morgan
CRASH
“Oh! Merciful Heavens!” Mrs. Riley cried then quickly collected herself. She smiled. “Wait right here, dear, while I go see what’s keeping Matthew.” She turned, hurried down the hall, and disappeared around the corner.
Rose listened as she knocked on a door and asked, “Is everything all right? May I come in?” The sound of a door opening came next, followed by …
“Good Lord! How did that happen?”
Rose could stand it no longer. She went down the hallway, turned the corner, and stopped up short. Matthew was sitting in a kitchen chair, grasping the seat with everything he had, while his mother tried in vain to pull a bucket off his foot. The woman’s rump was almost on the floor, she was pulling so hard. It was more than Rose could take. A giggle escaped.
“I’m glad someone finds it amusing,” Matthew quipped. “I certainly don’t.”
Mrs. Riley put a hand to her mouth to stifle her own chuckle. “How ever did you manage?”
Mrs. Quinn straightened, and dropped her load. The bucket-covered foot crashed to the floor.
“OW!”
“Oh, stop. It can’t hurt that much.” Mrs. Quinn scolded. “You always did have big feet.” She turned to Rose. “We were discussing your … arrival, when Matthew backed up and stepped into it.” She turned to him again. “If you had put it back in the storeroom, this never would have happened.”
“I didn’t think to put it in the storeroom,” he said through clenched teeth. “It was sitting there, full of dirty water, and I dumped it so you wouldn’t have to.”
“Why, thank you, son.” She looked again to Rose, a smile on her face. “He always was a considerate boy.”
Matthew took a deep breath, held it, and glared as his mother.
“How ever are we going to get that off?” Mrs. Riley asked.
Rose watched as Matthew let out his breath, and then stared at the bucket. He shook his foot a few times, but the bucket appeared permanently attached.
“Does it hurt, dear?” Mrs. Riley asked.
“Actually, it does.” Matthew stated as he tried to push it off with his other foot.
“I’m afraid we’re gong to need some help,” Mrs. Quinn said. She glanced around the kitchen. “Oh fiddlesticks! Wait here, I’ll be right back!” She hurried off before anyone could comment.
However, it didn’t keep Matthew from doing so, once he realized what she was about. “Mother!” he called after her. “No! Don’t!”
“I’m afraid she’s gone, dear,” Mrs. Riley said. “Besides, none of us are strong enough to help you. But I don’t’ see why you weren’t able to push it off by yourself.” She bent over and peeked at the damage. “Oh! No wonder!”
Rose went to take a look. “Oh, my …”
“Indeed,” Matthew commented dryly. His foot was twisted at an odd angle. It must’ve been mighty painful when his mother tried to pry it off.
“Maybe some lard would help?” Rose suggested.
“Excellent idea, dear,” Mrs. Riley said then glanced about the kitchen. “Now, where does your mother keep it?”
Matthew was about to tell her he had no idea, when his mother came in through the kitchen’s back door. “I found help!”
It was all he could do not to moan. The last thing he wanted, was for the entire town to hear of his mishap. Not only that, but what about the dance? His foot was so twisted he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk on it, let alone dance. At least the Valentine celebration wasn’t for another couple of weeks.
A young man followed his mother into the kitchen. He was tall, with hair dark, his jaw shadowed. He rubbed it as he studied Matthew’s predicament. “Looks like you plumb got that foot stuck good, sir.”
“Matthew,” Mrs. Riley began. “Meet Tom Turner. He’s my brother Harlan’s deputy from Clear Creek, come to help Spencer out until he can hire on another man.”
Matthew grimaced as he looked at him. He then noticed he wasn’t the only one looking. His future bride was out right staring, her mouth flopped open like a fish. “Er, pleased to meet you.”
The deputy turned to his mother. “Ya got any lard?”
Rose stepped forward. “That was my suggestion.”
Tom turned to her, and … Stared. Only instead of his mouth flopping open like a fish, he opened and closed it, but no sound came out. Hmmm, isn’t that what most fish do? Matthew thought.
Tom shook himself as if chilled, then turned to Mrs. Quinn. “Lard, ma’am. Ya got any lard?” he repeated.
“Yes!” she said, and sprang into action. She hurried to a cupboard, pulled down a jar, and handed it to him.
“This ought to do the trick,” Tom said as he bent down on one knee. He reached into the jar, got a handful of lard, and slathered each end of Matthew’s boot with it. “Try pushing it off yourself. It that don’t work, I’ll pull.”
Matthew nodded, gripped the chair, and gave the bucket a push. He did it several times, ignoring the pain with each try, until finally, Tom grabbed it, and together, they worked the bucket off his foot without doing further damage.
“Aaaaooohhhhh,” Matthew moaned as he leaned forward to examine the injury.
“Can ya stand?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll give it a go.”
“Come dear,” Mrs. Riley said to Rose. “Let’s go look at fabric for your wedding dress while they get him fixed up.”
The deputy’s head shot up at the statement. “Weddin’? Is somebody gettin’ married?”
“My Matthew and Miss Smith, here!” Mrs. Quinn said proudly. “Just as soon as they’re able.”
Matthew watched as Tom’s mouth began to flop open again, before he snapped it shut. He cleared his throat, and looked again at Miss Smith. “Congratulations.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile. It was her only response.
Hmmm, Matthew mused as he looked from one to the other.
Mrs. Riley gave Rose a small shove in the direction of the door. “Come dear, Betsy- Mrs. Quinn I mean- has some lovely ivory brocade, just come in yesterday.”
“Don’t start without me, Leona!” Mrs. Quinn chimed after them. “Show her the shoes first!”
Matthew buried his face in one hand as Tom set the bucket down. “Oh, we’d better put this in the storeroom,” Mrs. Quinn said as she snatched it up. “We don’t want any more accidents.” She eyed her son. “Now hurry and change your clothes, Matthew. We’ll pick out some fabric, then we can all sit down for coffee and cake.”
Matthew groaned. He’d not had a chance to give any reasonable protest to the affair. He was about to let his mother have it with both barrels, when he’d stepped in the bucket.
“That is one pretty gal,” the deputy commented after his mother left the room. “You’re a right lucky man, Mr. Quinn.”
Matthew looked up at him. “I don’t know if I agree with you on that. I only just found out about her this afternoon.”
“What? You mean you just met her?”
“That’s what I mean.” He tried to stand, stumbled, and fell back into the chair.
“You might want to give yourself a minute. I guess that foot of yours ain’t ready to take weight. Maybe Doc Brown should look at it?”
Matthew eyed him and nodded.
“Can I ask you somethin’, Mr. Quinn?”
Matthew sighed. “Go ahead.”
“What sort of man marries a woman he just met?”
“He doesn’t.”
Tom pushed his hat off his forehead. “I was kinda hopin’ you’d say that. I know I couldn’t do it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. My mother and that Mrs. Riley must have cooked this up. I heard Spencer and his brother both got married recently. My mother must have thought it would work for me, too.”
“Sure is a lot of marryin’ that goes on in this town.” Tom commented as his eyes gravitated to the door. “At least she’s pretty.”
Matthew followed his gaze, and looked back to him, an idea forming. “She certai
nly is.”
“She don’t look mean either. Some women got that mean look in their eye, like a rogue horse. We got us a lady in Clear Creek like that. Mrs. Dunnigan. She can turn a man stone cold with a single glance.”
“You ah … you married, Mr. Turner? Matthew asked.
“No, sir. Never so much as courted a girl. Course there was these English ladies come to town some years back, but they all up and married quick-like. Heck, they weren’t in town but a few months before each one was spoken for.”
“Why didn’t you court one of them?”
Tom looked down at him. “On account I was only fifteen.”
“Fifteen?”
“I told ya it was some years back. Ain’t too many females come to town since them English ladies. The only reason they did, was cause they were Duncan Cooke’s cousins. He’s this English Duke fella. Any how, I guess in England when you’re a man with female relations, you gotta be the one to see they get married.”
“Tough job.” Matthew commented dryly as he prodded his injured foot and wondered if what he said was true. “I think it’s my ankle, that’s the problem…” he mused.
“You gonna court that gal?”
Matthew looked up. “Doubtful.”
“You just gonna up and marry her?”
Matthew sat back in his chair. “Deputy Turner, what I do is my own business, and …” What was he saying? He took a closer look at him and noted the seriousness in his eyes. Was he protecting the girl? The idea that sparked earlier was back. “I’ll do things right by her, if that’s what you mean.”
“I meant no disrespect. But a gal needs courtin’ if’n she’s gonna get married. Especially being as how the two of you just met and all.”
“Yes, I couldn’t agree more.” Matthew glanced around the kitchen as his mind raced. “And I suppose that means we’ll be spending lots of time alone together.”
“Alone?” he asked, his voice turned up a notch. “Won’t the womenfolk in this town think that’s improper?”
Matthew hid a smile by rubbing his chin with a hand. “Yes … I guess I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right, we’ll definitely need a chaperone.” He looked up at him, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “You ah … well, you wouldn’t be interested, would you?”
“Me! Why me?”
“Well, on account you are the law, and I’m sure Miss Smith wouldn’t object, let alone my mother.” His last words came out flat.
Tom’s eyes flicked to the door again. “That I am.” He turned back to him. “The law, I mean.”
“Yes, and I’m sure Miss Smith would feel quite safe knowing you’re just feet away from us. I know I will.”
Tom took a few steps toward the door, his eyes once again fixated on it. “When’s the weddin’?”
“I have no idea, who knows how long we’ll court. Could be months …”
Tom sighed and slowly turned to him. “I’m not sure I could stand chaperonin’ for months …”
“Or weeks!” Matthew piped up. “Days, who knows?”
Tom scratched his jaw as he thought. “I can’t be with you all the time, you’re gonna need more than one chaperone.”
Matthew couldn’t hide his smile. “I know.”
Tom finally turned back to him. “You got any body in mind for the job?”
“Oh trust me,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I know just the right person.”
Three
Rose couldn’t concentrate. Mrs. Riley and Mrs. Quinn droned on and on about wedding details, and didn’t let her get a word in edgewise. She glanced more than once toward the hall, hoping to get a glimpse of the handsome deputy that came to Matthew Quinn’s rescue. If she’d come to marry him, maybe she wouldn’t have such an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. One that told her she didn’t belong there. But what could she do? She knew what she was getting into, coming to marry a man she hadn’t even exchanged a letter with. She’d signed a contract, traveled all the way across the country to be there, and had already laid eyes on her intended. She had to go through with it.
Matthew seemed like a nice enough fellow, albeit somewhat bookish. But she liked books, she wouldn’t mind if he had a library full. He was nice looking too. But it was also obvious, he didn’t expect her, and hadn’t the slightest clue she was coming. Which of course, would explain why he didn’t seem excited in the least with her arrival.
“What about this color?” Mrs. Quinn asked as she held up a bolt of fabric. Of course, she wasn’t talking to her, she was talking to Mrs. Riley.
“Why, that’s lovely! What do you think, Miss Smith?”
Rose looked at the ivory brocade and felt about as excited as a doorknob, Now she understood how Matthew Quinn felt. “Lovely.” What had she gotten herself into?
“We’ll have the wedding as soon as the dress is done.” Mrs. Quinn declared.
Rose felt herself cringe. “How long will that take?”
“Well, dear,” Mrs. Riley said as she took the bolt to the counter. “If we can get Abbey Davis … oh, I mean … good Heavens,” she exclaimed and looked to Mrs. Quinn. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever heard what Billy’s last name is? We’ve only ever called him Billy.”
“Who is Billy?” Rose asked.
“He married Abbey Davis,” Mrs. Quinn explained. “The sister of the girl you saw when you first arrived? They got married at the same time Leona’s son Spencer did.”
“Oh, it was a lovely, double wedding, however there was a slight interruption … but I won’t get into that now.” Mrs. Riley said told her. “You should have been there. Enough of that, let’s talk about your wedding!”
Rose now understood what the term, “faint of heart” meant. Hers became fainter with each passing moment as the women chattered on. They seemed to thrive on making plans for her wedding, and everyone else’s too, if her guess was right. Praying for a distraction, she got one. Tom Turner helped Matthew into the storefront. Limping, he went to the nearest chair and sat.
“Oh dear!” Mrs. Riley said.
“Tarnation, Matthew!” was his mother’s remark. “What happened? Is it that bad?”
“It’s my ankle. Deputy Turner insists he fetch Doc Brown so he can take a look at it.”
“Can’t you stand?” his mother asked.
“If I could, don’t you think I’d be doing so?”
“Oh, this is terrible!” Mrs. Quinn wailed. “We can’t have a wedding with you sitting down!”
“Don’t I know it,” Mrs. Riley mumbled under her breath as she smiled.
Rose caught the remark but didn’t understand it. She furrowed her brow in curiosity before she stole a glance at Tom Turner.
He casually leaned against the counter and observed her, looking her over like a painting on a wall. Did he like what he saw, or was he still making up his mind? Rose bit the inside of her cheek. What did it matter? She wasn’t marrying him.
“We’ll discuss this wedding business after Doc takes a look at my ankle. In the meantime, I would like to get to know Miss Smith better. Of course, we’ll need a chaperone.”
Rose stiffened. He wanted to marry her after all? Wait a minute … was she hoping he wouldn’t?
“Deputy Turner has graciously volunteered,” continued Matthew.
Rose sucked in a breath. Everyone turned to her.
“Are you all right, Miss Smith?” the deputy asked, as he stepped away from the counter.
“I’m … I’m fine. Tired. Yes … it was a long journey.”
“Oh, Betsy,” Mrs. Riley sighed. “What ever were we thinking jumping into wedding plans the moment this poor child arrived?”
Mrs. Quinn shook her head as she examined Rose. “Seems to me like she’s holding up all right.”
“Mother, let the poor girl lie down! She’s spent weeks on the road and …” he stopped and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Good grief, where is she going to stay? We’ve only the two bedrooms here.”
“Oh, that’s all taken care of
, dear,” Mrs. Riley consoled. “I’ve made arrangements for Miss Smith to stay with us out at the farm. You can do your courting out there if you like.” She chewed her lip as she scrutinized his ankle. “That is, if you think you’re up to it.”
“Why, that’s a wonderful idea!” Mrs. Quinn chimed in. “There so much more privacy out at your place.”
Matthew looked like he’d swallowed a handful of crickets. “No. No, that will never do.”
All three women looked at him. Even Deputy Turner cocked his head in curiosity. “What I mean is, my ankle. It’s probably better if, say … the deputy takes our wagon out to the Riley place, picks her up, and brings her here.”
Mrs. Quinn’s eyes widened. “Matthew, what will people think? Miss Smith can’t be riding to town alone with Deputy Turner.”
“Which is exactly why my second chaperone will be accompanying him to the Riley farm to fetch her.”
“Who?” voiced the matrons in perfect unison.
Matthew cleared his throat. “Charlotte Davis.”
“Charlotte Davis!” Mrs. Quinn cried. “What in Heaven’s name possessed you to think of her? Why, the whole town will know every single thing you do! That girl is nothing but a…”
“Mother, calm yourself, think of your heart.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my heart!” she shot back.
“Think of mine then. She is the logical choice.”
Mrs. Riley shook her head. “I’m afraid I have to agree with your mother, Matthew. You can’t have a single woman traveling out to our farm alone with a single man.”
“Well then, no courting, no wedding …” Matthew mused.
“This is ridiculous!” said Mrs. Quinn. “And all because of a stupid bucket!”
Deputy Turner had moseyed his way toward Rose during their discussion, and now stood next to her. “I hope you’re not too wore out from your trip, ma’am,” he said softly as the others conversed.
A chill went up her spine at the sound of his smooth, gentle voice. “I am a little,” she told him. “It was a long journey.”
“Guess you weren’t figuring on comin’ all the way out here and getting an earful of this.”
