Mail Order Bride- Fall

by Sierra Rose

  “Thank you, Ben. You are so reassuring. I knew there was a reason Camellia brought you into our family.” She managed a thin, watery smile of her own.

  As they reached the boardwalk, he cupped a supportive palm beneath her elbow. “Glad to hear that. I was beginnin’ to wonder.” A chuckle, then as his hand brushed hers, he frowned. “Cold as ice. You gonna be able to get some sleep?”

  “I doubt it. I may never sleep again. Ben.”

  “Ahuh.”

  “You’re happy he’s here, aren’t you? Reese, I mean? Or Cole, or—oh, drat the man!” she broke off in near-tearful exasperation. “What am I supposed to call him?”

  “That’s somethin’ else you can work out. Tomorrow is another new dawn, Letty. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, y’ know. And, yes, I’m about over the moon to have my only brother part of my life again. Didn’t realize till now just how much I had missed the boy.”

  “And you’ll really, truly, see how you can help?”

  From his position on the outer edge, as they strode quietly along, he patted her forearm. “I gotta check in at the store first. Jimmy and Elvira are the greatest workers I could ask for, and I trust ’em to handle just about anything. But I been gone a week. Need to see what’s goin’ on, put out any fires. Paul and me, we figured we’d get together with Cole after dinner.”

  “And then you’ll let me know what’s been decided?”

  Again that reassuring pat. What a kind and caring man her brother by marriage was!

  “Reckon I won’t have to, Letty. By the time we’ve finished talkin’, I have no doubt Cole will be makin’ a beeline outa there to hunt you down. Beat though he was, he was almighty upset with me for sendin’ him back to his hotel just now. He’ll for sure be ready to spend time with you tomo—well, good gracious, not tomorrow. Today. This afternoon.”

  A few steps behind them, the sheriff and his lady were having their own conversation as they strolled arm in arm, as airily if they were just out for some romantic excursion.

  The pretty moonlight aided the scene, painting even a few more unpalatable details—horse droppings, here and there, and a half-barrel of flowers overturned and rooted through by a couple of wandering hogs—with a pearly white sheen. Wagon wheel ruts also abounded to turn an ankle of the unwary passerby. Luckily, a thoughtful, random lantern here and there provided enough illumination to avoid these pitfalls.

  Several blocks away, the Firewater Saloon was doing a landmark business, judging by the noise of an inebriated someone pounding the piano keys, someone else’s off-tune warbling, and occasional gales of laughter.

  Paul considered taking a casual amble over their way, after he had returned Molly to her temporary sanctuary—just to pay a friendly little visit, ensure that all was as it should be. However, reconsidering, he decided against the idea. Burt Freeman’s premises were no more raucous than usual, and he hadn’t heard the sound of any gunshots, breaking glass, or screams. He figured the place would close down soon, with everything intact.

  The courting couple seemed untouched by any of these distractions. Molly was murmuring; Paul was accommodating, bending his tall frame toward her to listen. While much of what she said concerned the momentous events of the evening just past, some must necessarily concern their upcoming wedding, the plans to be made, and how much they loved each other.

  Things were not quite so chummy between the third couple, who were not really a couple at all but rather more like two mismatched fighting cockerels, spurs out, blood up. The doctor was accompanying Miss Hannah Burton strictly as a courtesy, and he had come to thoroughly regret his impulsive overture.

  They had barely set foot outside the Forrester front door when the grumbles and grievances had begun. The hour was late; she was tired; her head was aching; and couldn’t he possibly walk any more quickly?

  “For Heaven’s sake, woman, can you not stop squawkin’ for a minute?” he finally implored.

  “I do not,” said Hannah coldly, “squawk.” She jerked her arm free from his distasteful grasp and clumped resentfully at his side.

  How long could it possibly take to be conducted what had once seemed but a short distance to the boarding house? And why did her escort have to be this obnoxious individual, anyway? She could have made it by herself, in the company of these other two strong and stalwart males.

  “Look, can’t you be happy about the good news put out tonight?” Gabe, stopping in the middle of the street, demanded irascibly. “Ben and Cam bringin’ the next generation into the world, Paul and Molly finally settin’ a date for their nuptials...even Cole’s return, howsoever things might be complicated.”

  “Of course I’m happy about their good news. You really consider me to be such a dog in the manger, do you?”

  “I ain’t really sure about the manger part. Then how’s about you get rid of that sourpuss look on your face and try smilin’ for a change?”

  “I smile all the time,” she offered him something that looked like a death’s head rictus, “when you aren’t around.”

  In the semi-darkness, in the semi-quiet, he peered at her with disappointment and something else. “Y’ know, if you ain’t careful, you’re gonna hurt my feelin’s beyond recall.”

  “Hooey.”

  “Hooey? Whatddya mean, hooey?”

  “I mean that no one can get past the incredibly thick skin of a wart hog to find his feelings.” Her arrow had been shot and spent; it stuck, invisible but quivering nonetheless, straight through the good doctor’s breast. Unheeding, she picked up her skirts and started to move on.

  Swallowing hard against the unexpected sting of her attack, Gabe followed after, hurrying to catch up. Hannah could march briskly with the best soldier, when she put her mind to it, and when she had worked herself up enough into high dudgeon. Must be because of all that physical labor she did with planting and such. Well, maybe. Maybe not.

  “Well?” Hannah, surprised by his lack of response, looked up questioningly when he reached her side once again. “No retort?”

  He merely looked down at her in a way that left her feeling vaguely ashamed. “Nope. Mark the calendar, Miss Hannah. Got nothin’ to say.”

  “Hmmph. Imagine that.”

  They continued to plod from dusty street to boardwalk to dusty street to boardwalk, listening to the soft hum of conversation emanating from both couples ahead. As they passed by, one of Abel Norton’s livery pups set up a lively bark, joined by his colleagues, until a whole chorus of canine greetings rumbled together. Finally they were shushed by Abel himself, who lived in a small cottage to the rear and side of his corral.

  “I agree that it was happy news about the baby and the wedding,” Hannah conceded out of the blue.

  Gabe’s hat almost fell off his head in astonishment. “Bless my soul, are you apologizin’ for your outrageous behavior?”

  “I’m not apologizing, because there’s nothing to apologize for,” she snapped. “Grow a spine, Gabriel Havers. You don’t determine my moral code.”

  “Well, somebody needs to, since you can’t seem to do it on your own. Lordamighty, Hannah, do you ever hear yourself talk? Do you ever listen to that voice in your head? You sound like the worst shriveled-up spinster that ever lived.”

  Suddenly she ground to a halt, turning to confront him with both pugnacious hands on hips. “And if I am, so what? If I’m the laughingstock of the town, so what? If I’m some eccentric shunned by any reasonable citizen, so what? Why should you care? It’s no one’s business but mine!”

  Furious, she set off at a racer’s pace and stormed away. Since they were within a few steps of Mrs. McKnight’s, anyway, he let her go. He was still standing at the corner, completely kerflummoxed, when the others, having courteously seen their charges to the front door and inside, returned.

  “You and Hannah havin’ it out again, son?” asked Ben, with a whimsical curl to his lip.

  “Man, we can’t take you anywhere,” Paul added, just as whimsically. “I thoug
ht you two might be comin’ to fisticuffs.”

  Gabe rubbed his bewhiskered chin as if he were actually recovering from the blow of Hannah’s swift right hand. “That woman can brew up a storm of temper outa nowhere,” he complained, with reason. “It does beat all how quick she flies off the handle.”

  “Well, I reckon we’re all a little hair-trigger right now,” the sheriff did his best to soothe. “Prob’ly we all need to get away from each other for a bit and sleep on what’s been goin’ on.”

  “Sleep,” agreed Gabe, yawning. “Yup. Good advice. I’m headin’ back to the office and sack out in my single cot. What about you, Paul?”

  “Oh, thought I’d stop over and see what’s goin’ on at the jail. Slow times right now, but I wanna check in with Austin.”

  “Me, I’m gonna go spend what’s left of the night in my own bed, with my wife. Five o’clock rolls around mighty early.” Ben paused, looking from one to the other. “I thank you for bein’ part of all this,” he gravely told them. “I appreciate both of you pitchin’ in to help out when I need it, and I appreciate—oh, shoot. I’m just mighty lucky you’re my friends.”

  A smile and a firm handshake from Paul; a nod and a slap on the shoulder from Gabe.

  Friendship indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Interlude: Sleepless in Turnabout

  BOARDING HOUSE, BED One: Sleep. How is anyone supposed to sleep, with all that’s happened? I’m delighted about Cam bringing a baby into the world, of course; and I’m delighted that Molly has finally been courted enough to set a wedding date. And it took her long enough, at that. But I suppose I can’t really blame her.

  And what about me? In spite of Ben’s encouragement over whatever is happening with Reese, I can’t help feeling I’ll never be happy again. I feel I’m doomed to lose the only man I’ll ever love, lose him to some terrible retribution I know nothing about. How can anyone ever make that right?

  Oh, I can’t keep switching from side to side and front to back like this, with my head about to explode—I’ll keep the others awake. Why can’t I just stop thinking? Why can’t I force myself to relax, and close my eyes, and rest? I will need to be alert tomorrow, to keep my wits about me.

  What was Reese mixed up in? How terrible was his crime, that his poor scarred face must be displayed on a wanted poster somewhere? And, is it “Wanted, Dead or Alive”? Dear God, how can we straighten this out before he is hunted down and shot full of bullets?

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feeling so worried.

  Boarding House, Bed Two: Hugging my pillow is as close as I’ll get to hugging Paul any more tonight. Paul. What a love. I was so afraid, after all my mistakes with Quinn, that there were no sweet, kind men left in the world, that I would be left alone for the rest of my life. Silly woman. Whatever force brought him to me, I will be forever grateful. And in less than a month we’ll become husband and wife. He’ll be mine, and I’ll be his. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

  That moonlight shining through my window is just about the color of my dress. I’m so relieved Paul decreed I should have a new one, instead of using Cam’s for a second time. He is so wise. So strong. And such fun to tease. I wonder what changes he will actually allow me to make in his house. We need to start on those soon, to have all the dust and noise cleared out before we settle in as a couple. Paul. My darling. I shall dream of you this night. If I can ever go to sleep.

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feeling so overjoyed.

  Boarding House, Bed Three: Oh, the nerve of that man. The nerve! He deliberately goes out of his way to antagonize and infuriate me. How can any sensible person bear to be in his company? How can Letty continue to work with him? He’s a boor, an absolute boor.

  To insinuate that I might actually be jealous of my sisters...just because one is having a baby and one is having a wedding, and neither event is happening to me. Well, really, I do hope I’m not as petty as he makes me out to be!

  Lord, I am tired. I am so tired. Why can’t I sleep? All these thoughts keep going round in my head, and I can’t turn off my brain. Are there sheep to count? It’s never worked in the past, but perhaps if I try it again, and I concentrate very, very intently on the numbers...One. Two. Three...

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feeling so frustrated.

  A rather barren bedroom in the Winslow house: Here I am, staring up at the ceilin’, grinnin’ in the dark like some kinda loon, thinkin’ how almighty tirin’ this day has been and what a lucky sonofagun I am. Good thing I finally got up enough nerve to latch onto my girl as soon as she was free of that mongrel Hennessey, b’fore somebody else snatched her away. Loved that sweet, brave lass right from the beginnin’, and now we’ve finally set things right.

  She’ll be makin’ over my house prob’ly startin’ tomorrow, and she’ll be makin’ over my clothes and maybe me, to boot. But I’ll be makin’ over Miss Molly—in my bed. Gonna help her put all the bad memories right outa her mind, so we can start buildin’ new ones, together.

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feelin’ high as a kite.

  Forrester House, Bedroom Occupant One: Man, what a long day. Been almost asleep on my feet for the last few hours, and now I’m too fagged out to sleep. How’s that for irony? Got a lot on my plate for tomorrow, too. No wonder I’m still awake.

  Gotta spend some time at the store, see what’s goin’ on there, find out if any problems cropped up whilst I was gone. Gotta talk to the town council, check in on somea the stuff they’ve been wantin’ to discuss at the next meetin’. This bein’ the mayor gets to be a hassle sometimes, but I sure do like the job.

  Man, what a long day. Findin’ out I’m gonna be a father...feel like I’m in over my head, facin’ a world of responsibility. I’m excited and scared and just about foamin’ at the mouth, all at once. But at least I know what not to do. No bairn of mine will ever be treated like Pop treated his sons. Wonder if Cam is carryin’ a boy or a girl? Not sure I’m ready for this. Still, lookin’ ahead, just thinkin’ about a little one around here...Gotta make sure Cam takes care of herself, too. She’s always doin’ for everybody else, can’t have her gettin’ rundown and such...

  Molly’s gonna be settlin’ down soon, and Paul will look after her. No need to worry any more about that’n. I can cross one name off my list of Burtons that haveta be rounded up and hogtied. And who’da figured Letty would go puttin’ herself into the same predicament as Molly had, and that her mail order husband would end up bein’ Cole! Here I was, so bothered about another Quinn Hennessey haulin’ into town, and her bein’ stuck with him!

  Cole. What kinda mess has he gotten himself in? A wanted man? Well, I’ll find out more tomorrow, at Paul’s office, with Paul’s help. Good to have the law on your side. Good to have the boy back under my wing again.

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feelin’ so inadequate.

  Forrester House, Bedroom Occupant Two: I’ve never felt so exhausted in my life as right now. Not even after our two month trip traveling here from St. Louis, by wagon train. Recovery from that took only a day or two; I suspect, from here on, I will just be growing more and more fatigued. And fat. And foul-tempered. I can only hope my dear husband will find the patience to put up with me!

  Still, I’m happy, I’m so very very happy. A baby. Our own baby. And Ben will make a wonderful father. He has all the attributes I wanted to find in a man, to hand down to our children, and he’ll take good care of us. Oh, all the things I want to dream about for our future, and I simply can’t fall asleep.

  What a relief that Molly has finally made up her mind. Between all the plans for this little one, and all the plans for her wedding, we will be indescribably busy for the next few weeks. What joy. I can’t wait to start telling people in the town. Elvira, and Mrs. McKnight, and the sewing circle at church.

  And now we have Cole back with us. Ben has spoken very little of him, but it must have been such a heart scald, nor knowing where he’s been all thes
e years, or how he’s been faring. Or if he was even alive! But Ben and Paul between them should be able to clear up any trouble the boy is in, I have no doubt. Ben can do anything.

  Oh, Lordy, Lordy, my ankle bones feel as if they’re being driven straight through the soles of my feet. I think perhaps I’ll let Ben coddle me just a tiny bit tomorrow. Meanwhile, I want to just snuggle up against him, feel his warmth and solidness on this cool night, breathe in the outdoor scent of him. My big, strong Ben.

  And to think we had the most awful fight, the day after we were married, to the point that I feared we’d never be able to make amends and go forward. Well, we got over that soon enough. All it took was the two of us, reaching out to each other.

  Which, if I reach down just far enough, now, I can graze across the top of those big ole feet of his with my toes. Ah. I do love to nestle up against this man. When he looks at me in that special way, and calls me his darlin’, I just melt. And he knows it, the devil. He knows he can get away with anything, then.

  I wonder, if I touch him lightly here...and here...no, I mustn’t. He’s dead tired, he has so much to do, I mustn’t...oh, I am shameless. A whole week together, doing this very thing, and I’m still not satisfied. Hungry, I am hungry...and shameless...and...

  Please let me go to sleep. Please. I am feeling so randy.

  Room No. 9 at the Drinkwater Hotel: Roll over here, roll over there; back and forth, back and forth. This mattress is so lumpy that it must be filled with rocks, and the pillow ain’t much better. Feathers, my fanny. I’d do better tryin’ to sleep out next to a dry creek bed, under the stars.

  Not that I’ll manage much sleep anyway. Got a headache to beat the band, and a heartache to match. Never shoulda planned on tryin’ to see my brother again. All I’ll do is bring him scandal and shame, involve him in stuff that is way beyond his knowin’. Never shoulda answered that ad in the Denver newspaper. All I’ll do is cause pain for that girl who’s everything I ever wanted in life.