Snatching The Bride

Home > Romance > Snatching The Bride > Page 13
Snatching The Bride Page 13

by Elliee Atkinson


  “Well, tell me what it is.” Becky looked curious. She couldn’t imagine anything he could have for her.

  Kenny stood for a moment before turning back to the door. He opened it again, reached out and picked up two of the bags. He set them inside the door without looking at her and retrieved the third bag. When he set it down with the others, he looked up at her. She was staring at the bags and hesitated a moment before taking a step closer to them.

  She looked up at him. “What are these?”

  “Open it up and see.”

  She leaned down to one of the bags and pulled it open. Kenny watched her face so he could see her reaction. The bag she had opened was the one containing her stuffed animals. He was glad that was the one she opened first. Her face lit up in surprise and her eyes darted to his face.

  “My animals! How did you get my animals?” Without waiting for an answer, she opened the other two bags and stared at the contents. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, what did you do? How did you get these?”

  She picked up the bag of stuffed animals and took them to the couch. She sat down on the couch and began to pull them out one by one. He sat next to her and watched as she examined each one, a look of pure love in her eyes.

  “My little friends, my little friends,” She hugged them to her chest and a few tears spilled from her eyes. “Oh, Kenny, thank you so much. I don’t know how you did it but this really makes me so very happy. Thank you.”

  “You are welcome, my dear.”

  “Please tell me how you got them. And all of my clothes and my other things. Did you go in when Bruce wasn’t home?”

  “Actually no, he was there.” He spoke cryptically, a sly look on his face.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, no. Is he all right?”

  Kenny had to laugh. “Do you think I beat him up? No, I wouldn’t do that. I’m a nonviolent man. I made a plan. I asked the doc for some suggestions on how to get to sleep naturally. He told me of a few different methods I could try. I put a sleeping powder I mixed myself from a root in a bottle of vodka. I didn’t drink any of the vodka, but he didn’t know that. I told him I was a friend of Adam Collins and he had told me of the search for you. I’m sure that Adam knows about it. He’s the one everyone goes to when they are having trouble.”

  “I know them, too. Alice is my friend.”

  Kenny smiled. “Of course, she is. They are friends with everyone in Wickenburg.”

  “And other places, too.”

  “Yes, and other places, too. But he invited me in when he saw the vodka bottle. I got him to drink it and when he passed out, I gathered all of your things together. There are a few other things I got that I think you will be happy about.”

  She watched as he went to the other two bags and brought them over. He pulled out the dresses he had placed on top of the crystal bowl and pulled it out. Again, her eyes lit up and she looked like she might burst out crying. “Mama’s bowl. Oh, Kenny! How did you know?”

  “I got him to talking before he passed out. Asked him if there was anything in the house that was special to you. He said you loved this bowl. I wanted to make sure to get it for you. I don’t know if you will ever return to that house, so I wanted to get whatever I could.”

  “Oh, Kenny.” She took the bowl from him and lowered her head, hugging it to her chest. “This is… I have no words. Thank you so much. I don’t know why I deserve to be treated so well.”

  “Everyone deserves to be treated with love and respect, Becky. Especially someone like you. You have been deprived happiness long enough. I want to make you happy. I want you to feel peace and comfort.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I’ve gotten to know you from afar for a while. And, now, you’ve been here several weeks, and I do realize that you are worth every effort I can put in to making you have a good life.”

  Becky shook her head. His kind words warmed her heart. She couldn’t help shedding tears, light droplets that dripped from her eyes and landed on the crystal bowl in her arms.

  With a start, Kenny remembered the other gift he had brought from Becky’s home. Without a word, he reached into the same bag and felt for the praying hands. He knew she was watching him, curious to know what else he had in store for her. He pulled out the ceramic hands and held it out to her. She gasped. She set the bowl next to her on the couch and took the hands from him.

  “Kenny, oh Kenny, how did you know?”

  “I thought it would make a nice decoration for our cabin.”

  Becky noticed when he said “our” cabin. She ran her hands over the ceramic piece and squeezed it to her chest, just as she had the bowl. “These things mean so much to me,” she whispered.

  “I had hoped they would,” he replied softly. “I want you to be happy, Becky. I’ll do whatever I can to see that you are.”

  Becky sniffed. She could almost feel her mother’s spirit in the praying hands. They had been her mother’s favorite gift from her father when they were married. “When my Mama and Daddy married, he gave her these and told her that they would bless the marriage. That God would bless them. And that they would be reminded to pray every day about how blessed they were to have the life they had. They had shelter, food, and love. He said that was all they needed to live. You know what she said?”

  Kenny smiled. “What did she say?”

  Becky laughed softly. “She said not to forget about water.”

  They both laughed at that.

  “Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her. And your father.”

  “They were so good to me. They tried so hard to raise me differently than they had Bruce. However, I don’t think it was their fault the way Bruce turned out. Some people are just mean by nature. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “I agree. It’s all Bruce. Had nothing to do with your parents.”

  “You were brave to go in there and take these things. How long did you have to talk to him before he passed out?”

  “Well, I’m sure you realize he was ready to drink the vodka the moment I entered the house. So he was out fairly quickly. I don’t think I had to spend more than a half an hour with him while he was sober.”

  “He probably wasn’t sober when you got there to begin with.”

  “No, you’re right. He probably wasn’t. I didn’t see him drinking anything but that doesn’t mean anything, does it?”

  “No. He’s always drinking. From the minute he gets up. There were always liquor bottles next to his bed and I picked them up every morning when I went in for his soiled clothes.”

  “You cleaned his room for him, too?”

  Becky gave Kenny a sarcastic look. “Of course, I did. I cleaned everything. Inside and outside. All the time.”

  Kenny looked around the cabin. “I noticed when I came in that you have this place looking like some kind of mansion. Only the rich keep their homes this clean.”

  Becky couldn’t help but laugh again. “Not necessarily. Unless they have a maid, I’m sure they would keep their homes as dirty as they want.”

  “Who wants a dirty home? Here, look through your other bags. You have some very pretty dresses. And you made these yourself, didn’t you?”

  “I did, yes. My mother started teaching me to sew before she died. After she was gone, the ladies in town who took me under their wings taught me everything else I needed to know. How to wash clothes, cook, clean up around the house, darn socks, sew clothes. They thought I was going to be on my own eventually and would need to know how to take care of myself. But Bruce put that knowledge to a different use and made me do everything around the house.”

  “Didn’t you get tired of that after a while? After all, you are almost thirty years old, aren’t you? I would have thought a woman as beautiful as you would have been ready to get away from him when you were 20 years old if not younger. What kept you there?”

  “I felt obligated to help him since he had to give up his freedom to raise me. I didn
’t want to leave him when he was so obviously incapable of handling himself on his own.”

  “You aren’t your brother’s keeper. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

  “Probably not, but it was the way I felt.”

  “It was what he told you. He probably hounded it into your head as you were growing up that you would owe him a debt you couldn’t repay.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “You deserve a life of your own. That’s what I want for you. If you want to stay with me, I will show you all the love and attention you could possibly need. If you want to venture out on your own, I’m willing to help you do that, too.” He smiled softly. “But I do hope you choose to stay here with me. I enjoy your company very much.”

  She smiled back at him. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon, Kenny.”

  He wasn’t going to reveal that he had taken the papers she had written until he felt she would not be angry at him for reading them. He didn’t want to hide anything from her, but he couldn’t bring himself to confess to it. Not yet. She also didn’t confess to him that the one stuffed animal she loved the most was missing. She tried not to think of what could have happened to her special tiger. She knew if she mentioned it to Kenny, it could possibly make him feel bad. That was the last thing she wanted to do.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BRUCE ASKS THE SHERIFF FOR HELP

  BRUCE ASKS THE SHERIFF FOR HELP

  His head was in a fog. Bruce pressed his hand to his forehead and groaned, sitting up. He looked out the window beside the couch and noticed that it was completely dark outside. It was dark inside the house, too. No lanterns had been lit. He tried to remember what had made him pass out so early in the day.

  He vaguely remembered opening the door to someone but had only a minor vision of the man he’d seen in his head. He didn’t know who he was and didn’t remember the man’s name. He looked around the room and saw that nothing was missing. There weren't even any liquor bottles anywhere around. So how much did he drink and where was the bottle?

  It was all too confusing for him. He sat up and reached over to the side table. The light coming from the moon outside the window was enough for him to see the lantern and the flint box next to it. He carefully lit the lantern. He’d always been paranoid he would get drunk, knock over a lantern, and burn the house down with himself inside. He was equally careful when lighting them, even when he was somewhat sober.

  He still felt woozy. He pushed himself up from the couch once but didn’t succeed. He fell back into the sitting position and grunted. He tried again, managing to get to his feet that time. He stumbled across the living room and went down the short hallway to his room. He passed by the closed door to Becky’s room and glanced at it, wondering where she was.

  He knew why she was gone. Whether she’d gone on purpose or not, he knew why she was gone. He had not respected her. He had taken advantage of her. His guilt and shame bogged him down and made him bitter.

  Why should he care that she was gone? He wouldn’t have to worry about feeding her anymore, listening to her voice when she tried to talk to him about anything, listening to her beg to go somewhere, when she knew full well he wasn’t going to let her go out with anyone. He knew she would tell them about the way the two of them lived and he didn’t want anyone knowing his business. It was his life and he would live it the way he wanted to.

  He made it to his bedroom, went in and threw himself flat on the bed face down. Within moments, he was asleep again.

  Bruce woke up to the sun streaming through his curtain-less window. He lifted one hand and shaded his eyes, turning over onto his other side. He had to go to work today. He’d been taking too much time off and it was hurting his wallet.

  He sat up in the bed and looked down, noticing he was still wearing the clothes he’d had on yesterday. He frowned, trying to remember what had happened the night before. He quickly undressed and got redressed for the day, tossing his clothes to the corner of the room.

  “Becky will get those,” he murmured. He was out of the room before he remembered that Becky wasn’t there anymore and he’d basically just tossed the clothes onto the rest of the pile he hadn’t washed. He growled low and thought to himself that he was going to have to hire a housekeeper. He didn’t want to waste money on a housekeeper. Becky should be doing her job.

  His mood became even fouler when he left his room and went into the empty kitchen. He’d gotten used to the smell of coffee and fresh bread every morning. Now the air smelled stale and there was no coffee to be found. He didn’t even want to make it himself. He wanted Becky to make it. She knew how he liked it.

  He went to the door of her room and put his hand on the knob. He didn’t like going in her room. He hadn’t liked going in there when she was still here. He turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  He stood frozen, staring at the empty room. The only things left in the room were the bed and dresser. The closet door stood open and it was completely empty of her clothes and shoes. The dressing table drawers had all been pulled open and they were empty. The stuffed animals were gone.

  “What is going on?” Bruce was in shock. He tried his best to remember what had happened the night before. Someone had come over. A man. Bruce squeezed his eyes together and tried to think of who it was. He couldn’t remember the man’s name for anything. He could barely see his face. He hadn’t exactly been sober when the man came into his home and he did remember seeing a large vodka bottle at some point. He left Becky’s room and stomped into the kitchen. There were two glasses in the wash basin. Both had been washed clean.

  Enraged, he yanked on his boots and went out the door. He jumped up on his horse, who was none too happy to have the large, angry man on his back and the two of them bolted from the house. Bruce was going to get to the bottom of this.

  He raced his horse to the sheriff’s office and jumped down, tossing the reins over the post so that his horse wouldn’t try to run away. He took the few steps up to the small porch area and threw open the door to the sheriff’s office.

  A deputy was sitting in a chair, his feet up on the desk in front of him. It was a typical stance for the deputy, as nothing major every really happened in Wickenburg. It was always a peaceful town.

  Surprised by the sudden entrance of the large, angry man, the deputy brought his feet to the ground and stood up.

  “Bruce! What is the meaning of this?”

  “Where is the sheriff? I need to talk to him.”

  “If you have questions about Becky, I can tell you we don’t know anything new. We’ve been…”

  “It’s not that!” Bruce bellowed. “I wanna talk to him now! Where is he?”

  “He will be back in a minute. But you gotta calm down, Bruce. We really can’t have any outbursts in here. We are a peaceful town and you need to calm yourself and get along with everyone. You might start by not drinking so much.”

  Bruce’s face turned red in his rage. He took a step closer to the deputy, balling up his fists. The deputy looked back at him calmly, resting one hand on the pistol at his side.

  “I think you better take a step back, sit down, and wait for Sheriff Anderson. I won’t tolerate any of your shenanigans. Doubtful he will either. Get yourself sat, Bruce, before I make you sit in one of the cells back there till you calm down.”

  Bruce reluctantly sat in a chair near the front door, refusing to meet eyes with the deputy. Satisfied that Bruce was sitting and wasn’t going to start trouble with him, the deputy also sat back down at his desk. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together.

  “Bruce, I don’t know you that well, and I’m glad I don’t. I mean that because I am part of the law enforcement here in Wickenburg and I don’t recall having to deal with you often. But I know the sheriff has and that a lot of the men in town don’t think much of your behavior. You ever thought about trying to be a nicer guy to people? Might get you more friends.”

  “I have friends,” Bruce respo
nded resentfully.

  “Oh, yeah? Not that I’ve noticed. You’re a bitter man and you don’t know where to take that rage out now that Becky is gone. I hope you understand that we can’t tolerate your behavior in this town. If we have to run you out, we will.”

  “I have a house here!” Bruce tried to keep himself from yelling, which wouldn’t have done him any good. “You can’t run me out of town! That’s my house!”

  The deputy shook his head and responded in a low, calm voice. “That’s not our concern. You can sell your house, pack up your possessions, and go to a different town where they will put up with the way you are. We want good citizens in Wickenburg.”

  “I’m not a good citizen?”

  “No,” the deputy responded in a blunt voice. “You are not a good citizen. You are a bully and a scoundrel. You are a drunk and a gambler. You don’t provide any good services for anyone here.”

  Bruce narrowed his eyes at the man, dropping his eyes to the name on the small badge on his chest. It said “T. Barnes”. He looked back up, realizing he didn’t know who the deputy was.

  “I don’t know you. When you get here?”

  Deputy Barnes shook his head. “I’m not here to answer your questions, Mr. Dupont. All I can tell you is that you are a public nuisance and if I was your sister, I would have left you long ago.”

  Bruce jumped to his feet but the deputy was faster. He was around the table and tackling Bruce faster than Bruce could take a few steps forward. The deputy turned Bruce around and locked his arm behind his back. Bruce cried out in pain and the deputy pushed up harder.

  “You’re gonna break my arm!”

  He could hear the deputy’s voice in his ear, whispering menacingly. “I may be new in town, but it doesn’t take long for me to spot the local scoundrel. You need to behave while I am here, do you understand? You won’t be starting any fights and if anything goes wrong, you will be held accountable. Even if you aren’t a suspect at first, you will be after I’m involved. Do you understand me?”

 

‹ Prev