After locating a barber, an elderly gentleman who’d charged too much in his opinion, and getting his first shave and proper bath in weeks, he returned to the mayor’s office feeling like a new man. He nodded and smiled at a finely dressed woman with hair the color of a raven’s wing and pushed open the office door.
The lovely mayor motioned him to a chair and finished signing a document in front of her. When she’d finished, she looked up with a smile. “Settled in?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” She folded her hands on the desktop. “We’re a peaceful town, but men will be arriving. Strangers. Crime may rise. I expect you to be visible at regular intervals and to be present during the auditions. This will, hopefully, dissuade any man from making improper advances to the women of this town. We’ll be having the men set up temporary housing in tents outside of town once the inn is full. You’ll need to monitor that, also.”
“I can do that.”
“Wonderful. I’m sure we will get along famously. If you change your mind about auditioning—”
“I won’t.”
“But if you do, just let me know and I’ll place you in the round up.” She laughed, the sound as pleasing as a babbling brook. “The women of this town are going to swarm you, Mr.”—she glanced at his application—“Ingram. You clean up nice, you’re of marriageable age, and have a job.”
He leaned forward. “To keep me as sheriff, Mayor, you’re going to have to let these fine women know I’m not interested or I’ll be riding out at sunset.”
Chapter 2
Abby arrived at work the next morning with optimism in her step. She’d hired a sheriff and moved ahead to find the town’s women husbands. Maybe she was a good mayor after all. She inserted the key in the door of her office.
Loud footsteps pounded behind her, followed by giggling. Sheriff Ingram, followed by a bevy of smiling beauties, headed her way. Oh no. She’d forgotten to make the announcement that he was off limits.
Sheriff Ingram grabbed her elbow and dragged her inside then slammed the door. His frown made the cleft in his chin more pronounced. Would her finger fit perfectly in that spot? She raised her hand.
He stepped back. “What are you doing?”
“Oh. Nothing.” Heavens to Betsy! She’d almost lost all decorum. Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “How may I help you, Sheriff?”
“Have you already forgotten our agreement? A man can’t go anywhere in this town without a gaggle of twittering geese in dresses following him.”
“Yes, about that … I planned on making the announcement at the next town meeting.”
“Which is when?” He crossed his arms, drawing her attention to the muscles bulging under the cotton of his blue shirt. A shirt that matched his eyes, in fact.
She licked her lips. “Next month.”
“I can’t wait that long. They’re driving me loco.” He pointed at the women ogling him through the window. “Go tell them now.”
“Very well.” Chin high, she opened the door and stepped outside. She held up her hands to quiet the group. When they continued chattering, she put her fingers to her lips and gave an ear-piercing, very unladylike whistle. That got their attention.
Multiple sets of eyes focused on her.
“Ladies, the sheriff has informed me that he is not looking for a wife and for you to please leave him in peace, unless you have an emergency or something that requires his expertise.” There. Finely said.
“I’ve got an emergency,” one said, laughing. “My heart is breaking. I’ve a hankering for that tall drink of water.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Madeline Foster that is an inappropriate thing for a lady to say out loud.” No need to mention she agreed with her.
“It’s the truth. I always speak the truth.” The woman motioned her head. “Come on, gals, we’ll think of another way to attract that man’s attention.”
“Wait until the auditions, please. I’m sure you will all find men to your liking.”
“I doubt there are two men like that one in the world.” Madeline led her troop toward the restaurant.
Abby returned inside. “Done, Sheriff Ingram. It was relatively easy. Something a man such as yourself could have handled.”
“I tried. They wouldn’t listen.” He sat at the desk opposite hers. “Does anything happen in this town that requires me not to laze around?”
“Chicken thefts, disappearing cattle.” She sat in her chair. “Nothing too violent. There used to be the occasional fight … before the men left. I’m sure your job will be more exciting once men start arriving again.”
He glanced out the window. “I hope so. I feel like a rock rattling around in the back of a wagon.”
She chuckled. “Not as bad as that, I hope. My mother asked me to extend an invitation to supper tonight. We eat at five.”
“I reckon that will be all right, seeing as how I’m not looking for a wife and your family is clear on that.”
“Very. My mother is twenty years your senior and my sister much too young. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She shuffled some papers, hoping he’d take the hint. She couldn’t concentrate with him sitting across from her.
“Go ahead. You won’t bother me.”
She sighed and glanced over the latest petition. A ridiculous request for a floral shop. Seriously, the women of Turtle Springs did put on airs. She wrote declined on the petition and set it aside. The next was for a shoemaker. She had no idea any of the women knew how to … wait, they wanted her to find and bring in a shoemaker. Well, an advertisement in the nearest paper should work.
“You seem very engrossed in your work,” the sheriff said.
“Very.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Find the town a shoemaker.”
He appeared to be deep in thought. “I ran across an elderly gentleman in my travels that might be willing. I can send him a telegram, if you’d like.”
She lifted her eyes. “You’d do that?”
“Sure.” He shrugged and plopped his boots on the desktop. “I could use a new pair of boots.”
Judging by the hole near his right big toe, he surely did. “I would appreciate the help.”
“I’m starving. My stomach is saying hello to my backbone. Let me buy you breakfast and you can tell me what’s on the rest of those papers.”
“I’ve already eaten.” Mercy. Sitting across the table from him, in public, would start all sorts of gossip.
“Then have a cup of coffee.” He gave a lopsided grin.
The grin decided for her. So be it. If the gossip vine said she had her cap set for the sheriff, who was she to stop them? “I’ll accept, gladly.” She grabbed the stack of papers and followed him out the door and down the street to the diner.
Heads turned as they walked in.
The hostess, a young girl, barely sixteen in age, twittered. “Looks like you found your man.”
Abby’s neck heated. “We have a strictly business relationship.”
“So that means he’s available?”
“Absolutely not.” The sheriff took Abby’s hand. “My fiancée is shy. We’re an item.” He dragged her to a table, pulled out a chair, and whispered, “I’ve decided it’s best we pretend I’m spoken for. I can’t do my job effectively if I’m constantly dodging eager females.”
“Don’t you think that is something we should have discussed?” Miss Melton glared across the table. “How am I supposed to audition the men if I’m spoken for?”
“Once the men have arrived, we’ll have a falling out.” What had her dander up? It was a simple solution.
“When I give my word, Sheriff, I keep it.” She put her hands over her face. “You’ve put me in a predicament. The women will think I gave that speech to claim you for myself.”
Josiah felt a twinge of remorse. “I tend to speak without thinking. I apologize.”
She peered through her fingers. “How will I survive the embarrassment of a broken
engagement, real or imagined?” Her hands lowered, and she folded them on the table. “I’m the mayor. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“You’re a lovely woman, first. I’ll act like a total cad. You’ll count yourself lucky.” He picked up a handwritten menu.
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Sheriff?”
“Might as well call me Josiah, since we’re engaged.” He winked, enjoying the bright spots of scarlet appearing on her cheeks.
“Well, Josiah.” She tossed her napkin in his face. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.” She bolted to her feet and stormed from the restaurant.
He glanced at the women sitting at the closest table. “Lover’s spat. Nothing serious.” Ducking his head, he hid behind the menu. He had to be the biggest fool this side of the Mississippi River.
By five o’clock, Josiah had worked himself into quite a frenzy. He only had one good shirt and he’d worn it that day. Having already insulted Miss Melton by opening his big mouth, he couldn’t show up for supper in a dirty shirt. Sighing, he donned a white muslin shirt that, while clean, had seen better days. He ran his hand over his chin and cheek. Stubble rasped against his palm.
He gave himself a quick shave, nicking himself several times, then slicked his hair back with water. He was as ready as he would ever be. Hopefully, his hostess would accept his apology.
Outside, he headed for the white house at the end of Main Street. Women smiled and waved, falling in behind him. What was wrong with these people? Wasn’t a declaration of engagement deterrent enough? He tugged his hat low on his head and increased his pace.
The mayor’s house seemed a mile away. When he approached the small path leading to the front door, the women held back. They didn’t head away until the front door opened.
A small woman on the round side, but not overly so, opened the door. A big smile graced her unlined face. “You must be Sheriff Ingram. I hope you like beef stew and flaky biscuits. Come on in. I’m Lucille.”
“My favorite type of meal. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” He hung his hat on a rack near the door and smoothed his hair again.
He entered the kitchen to see Abigail setting out bowls and a young girl, who had to be her sister, folding cloth napkins. The resemblance between the three Meltons was uncanny. All three were good-looking women. The youngest had to be setting the hearts of every man under the age of twenty thundering in his chest.
“I’m Lucy, named after my ma. Sit there.” The girl pointed at the head of the table. “We’re ready to eat.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re right on time,” Lucille said. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
Once they’d stopped fussing over him, and Lucille said a short blessing, they dug into their meal. It wasn’t until Josiah’s second bowl of stew that he decided to address the fact that young Lucy hadn’t stopped staring at him during the entire meal.
“Do I have something on my face, young lady?” He swiped his mouth with the napkin.
“I don’t want you to marry Abby.”
“And why is that?” He glanced over at a red-faced Abigail.
“Because I want you to wait three more years and marry me.”
He clamped his mouth shut. What did a man say to that? Especially a man who had no plans on ever getting hitched? “Um, well … I don’t reckon I want to wait too long. I’m only getting older, you see.”
“Hogwash.”
“Lucy!” Abigail slapped her hand with the back of a spoon. “Your language.”
“It’s fine, Abigail.” Josiah took his time folding his napkin and setting it beside his bowl in hopes of finding just the right words to say. “You see, young lady … God has made a man for every woman. I reckon rather than you asking me to wait on you, that you wait for God to bring the right man to you.”
Lucy didn’t seem pleased with his response, but Abigail’s and Lucille’s faces beamed. He ruffled Lucy’s hair, wanting to remind her she was a child yet, then turned his attention to Abigail. He raised an eyebrow in question.
She nodded and ducked her head.
Good. He’d handled the situation fine.
“Is that truly what you believe, Josiah?” Lucille leaned forward. “I’ve already had the love of my life, and I’m not against having another husband to spend what’s left of my years with. Do you think God has another one for me?”
“Sure. Since the time of Adam and Eve there’s been one man and one woman. But I don’t believe that means a man or woman should spend their life alone should one pass away.” He raised his coffee to his mouth.
“It’s good to know this town has a godly man for a sheriff. I’m glad you’re marrying my Abby.”
“Ma!” Abigail’s eyes widened. “I told you it was just a ruse.”
Lucille patted her daughter’s hand. “We shall see, dear.”
Josiah spit coffee across the starched white tablecloth.
Chapter 3
After what Abby considered a disastrous supper with Josiah, she readied herself for another day of approving and disapproving petitions. She was determined to have a quiet, peaceful day in which to get her work done. A quick glance in the foyer mirror to make sure her hat sat straight on her head and off she went.
Her boots clomped out a quick rhythm on the wooden sidewalks. She smiled and nodded at the townsfolk she passed, stopping to give tips to the elderly men who gathered in front of the mercantile, without fail every morning, to play checkers. When the weather turned cold, they sat in front of the woodstove inside. She pointed out a move to one of them, winked at his sputtering opponent, and continued on her way.
As she prepared to cross the street, a commotion outside the sheriff’s office drew her attention. Six women gathered on the sidewalk, jostling for position in front of the window. Abby sighed and squared her shoulders, prepared to do battle. As mayor, it was her job to help keep the town in a semblance of control.
“Best get them hens under control, Mayor,” one of the checker players called out. “This is a respectable town.” He cackled and bent back over the game board.
A year as mayor and still the old timers didn’t take her seriously. Ignoring their jests, Abby marched to the sheriff’s office. “Break it up, ladies.”
“But he’s shaving.” One of them swooned, actually swooned. “Right where we can all see him.”
Silly man. Hadn’t he learned anything? “Move along. I won’t say it again.” She shoved open the door to the sheriff’s office and barged inside. “Sheriff Ingram.”
“Miss Mayor.” He turned, his shirt unbuttoned several buttons and his strong chin covered with shaving cream.
Abby breathed deeply, inhaling its woodsy aroma. “Are you aware of the spectacle you’re presenting? Why aren’t you shaving in your private room?”
“The light is better out here.” He glanced over her shoulder. His eyes widened. “Can’t a man get any peace around here?”
“Not in a town starving for husbands. I suggest you take more care in the future.”
He grabbed a towel and wiped his face, then buttoned his shirt, hiding a fine chiseled chest from view. A pity. Abby hadn’t seen anything so fine in ages.
As she turned to leave, the women crowded inside. The poor sheriff looked like a cornered animal. Sweat beaded on his brow. He fell into the chair behind his desk and stared with wild eyes at the chattering group who converged on him like starving dogs, shoving Abby to the side.
“I have an emergency,” they all said at once.
Josiah took a deep breath, his chest straining against his shirt. “One at a time, please.” He fumbled around his desk.
“Pencil?” Abby pulled one from her reticle. “Or shall I write down the requests?” Which were bound to be trivial and nothing more than an excuse to have the sheriff make an appearance at their homes.
“Please assist. I’m more used to cowboys than ladies.” He lowered his voice. “Fran
kly, they scare me to death.”
She nodded then turned to the women. “One at a time, list your needs. The sheriff will attend them in the order he deems necessary.”
The women looked at each other. Clearly, they had no idea how to proceed.
Abby raised her eyebrows.
“I’m missing some chickens,” said one.
“Someone broke my fence,” stated another.
On and on it went with things so trivial Abby thought the pencil would break from her grip. “Does anyone have anything life threatening?”
“There’s been a man peeping in my windows.” A middle-aged woman spoke up from the back. “It’s the gospel truth. If he shows his face again, I plan on giving him a taste of buckshot.”
A loud thud reverberated through the room as Josiah let his feet fall to the floor. “You aren’t joshing?”
“No sir.” She pushed herself to the front of the group. “I’ve no need to pretend. I’m not looking for a husband.”
He grinned and grabbed his hat. “Very well, then. I’ll follow you back to your place.”
The other women groaned.
“Mayor?” Josiah tipped his head. “Would you like to come along? You know this town better than anyone, I’d wager.”
She smiled. “I’d be happy to.” While a stack of petitions awaited her on her desk, she’d love to see the new sheriff in action. After all, she’d hired him on sight, with no interview. What if he wasn’t qualified, other than wearing a gun at his hip and being handsome enough to charm a badger? Not that a sheriff needed to be handsome, but it certainly didn’t hurt.
She followed him to the livery, where she mentioned there was a buckboard for his use. Josiah nodded and hitched a horse to the wagon, then helped her climb onto the seat. “I know the way to Mrs. Wilson’s farm. I’ve sent her ahead,” Abby said. “It will take us close to thirty minutes to ride out there.”
“It’s a beautiful day.” He climbed up beside her and took the reins. “Seems a bit strange for a peeping tom in a town with very few men. Wouldn’t the women have noticed a stranger in town?”
Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection Page 2
