“Yes, sir.” Watson turned in a slow circle. “We left the church and headed straight out this-a-ways. Maybe we ain’t gone far enough yet. It was quite a walk with six young’uns tagging along.”
“Where’s the still, Mr. Watson?” Josiah’s patience floated to the treetops.
“Past the house. I didn’t want it too close to town, you understand.”
“Of course.” Josiah took a deep breath and counted to ten. The day had to be one of his most trying since the war. “Continue.”
Another half-hour walk brought them to a dilapidated cabin. Small children in various stages of undress played in the dirt yard. A three-legged dog lifted its head from the sagging porch.
“Home sweet home,” Watson said. “Howdy, young’uns. Where’s your ma?”
A little girl pointed to the back of the house.
“She’s hanging laundry,” Watson said. He waved for Josiah to follow. “I reckon you’ll be getting hitched soon to the mayor, right, Sheriff?”
“Why do you say that?”
“The audition is next week. If you don’t snatch her up now, someone else will.” He grabbed a rail-thin woman around the waist and lifted her off her feet. “Like I did my gal right here.”
She slapped his shoulder. “What’s the sheriff here for?”
“I was bad.” Watson shook his head. “I imbibed too much of my own creation and grabbed the mayor.”
Mrs. Watson, formerly Mrs. Richards, frowned. “Did you apologize?”
“I didn’t have the chance. Now, the sheriff is here to close down the still. I don’t know how I’ll pay for food in those little ones’ mouths.”
“We’ll manage.” She patted his cheek. “Thank you for bringing him home, Sheriff.”
“I’ve got to see the still, ma’am.” He hated taking food out of babies’ mouths, but it was his job to uphold the law.
“About a hundred yards that way.” She took her husband by the arm and led him into the house. “Let me feed him first, then he’ll join you.”
Josiah nodded and headed in the direction she’d pointed. As he walked, his thoughts returned to something Watson had said.
Abigail could very well be married next week, or shortly after. Josiah sat on a stump, his gaze landing on a crude still. If that happened, he wasn’t sure he could stick around Turtle Springs. He hadn’t stopped there with the intention of falling in love, yet …
Did he love Abigail? He certainly admired her and enjoyed her company. But enough to give up his freedom? What about his vow not to marry in case the country went to war again? Josiah had some deep thinking to do. The thought of Abigail marrying someone else cut to the quick.
Feeling as if life had grown too heavy, he doused the fire under the still and poured out the whiskey. The fumes made his head spin. He didn’t find pleasure in destroying the only way for a man to feed his family.
“So, it’s gone.” Mrs. Watson crossed her arms and glared.
“Yes. Where is your husband?”
“Run off.”
Josiah’s shoulders sagged. “On his own or with help?”
She shrugged and gave him a defiant look. “I need a job, Sheriff.”
“I reckon the jail needs a cleaning lady.” He kicked at a rock as he passed her. “Tell your husband to come on home. If he’s worth his salt, he won’t mind doing some odd jobs for money. I’ll put the word out.”
She grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “I reckon that is just fine. We’ll be there in the morning. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say what happened here today.”
“I’d appreciate the same.” He didn’t need word getting out that Turtle Springs had a soft sheriff. He’d be the laughing stock of the county and riffraff from miles around would converge on the town, if they hadn’t already.
Back in town, he paid for a shave and a bath in preparation for his supper with Abigail. When she showed up at the jailhouse a while later in a green dress that set off the same color in her hazel eyes, his resolve to stay single wavered again. What kind of fool didn’t want to marry her?
He forced a grin and offered his arm, catching a heady fragrance of lilac this time. The woman was a walking garden!
“What happened with Mr. Watson?” she asked as he held open the restaurant door.
“I hired him to do odd jobs. Him and the missus.”
She caressed his cheek. “You’re a big softie, Josiah Ingram.”
He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. “I reckon I am. How are the prisoners?”
“Bickering again. I don’t think locking them up is having any effect whatsoever on their behavior.”
He chuckled. “I’ll release them after supper. Lord, help the town.”
She giggled, sending his heart soaring. “I think we’ll survive. Their beau skipped town. I’m sure they’ll find another man to fight over.” She shook her head as he pulled out a chair for her. “I had no idea this audition would be such a circus.”
“People are funny creatures, Abigail.” He took his seat and studied her fair face. “Have you thought of your requirements for a husband?”
“Of course. He must be upstanding, family oriented, a good provider, and a godly man.” She spread her napkin in her lap. “That isn’t too much to ask, is it?”
“What about love?”
She tilted her head. “Surely, you don’t think a man and woman can fall in love during a fifteen-minute interview?”
“No.” His heart fell to his stomach. He fit her requirements, at least he thought he did. What in tarnation was he going to do?
“Do you have to go through with it? You can’t know anyone well enough in fifteen minutes.”
Her eyes shimmered. “I have to, Josiah. It was all my idea. I can’t ask the other women to do something I’m not willing to do as well.”
Chapter 7
Why so sad, dear?” Ma wrapped her arms around Abby. “Today is a grand day. It’s audition day!”
Abby burst into tears. “That’s why it’s awful.” She slipped free and plopped onto the bed. “I don’t want to sit across from strangers. I want to marry Josiah.”
“Have you told Lucy?” Ma grinned and sat next to her.
“Don’t jest. This is serious. I’ve created a mess.” She fell to her back on the mattress.
“How so?” Ma pulled her back up. “This town needed men and you made that happen. There are already several very happy women because of what you’ve done.”
Abby refused to listen. “He asked me what I wanted in a husband and I rattled off a list as if I were going to the mercantile.” She draped her arm over her eyes. “I’m a dunderhead.” Not to mention she’d lost any chance of a happy ever after.
Ma sighed and grabbed her hand. “Up. You are not going to miss the audition. You’ll put on your best suit, walk in there, do what needs doing, then follow your heart. The same as you always do.”
Groaning, she allowed Ma to pull her to her feet. “Hand me the blue suit. It looks the best on me.”
An hour later, Abby surveyed the restaurant, where punch and finger sandwiches were being served. Men lined the sidewalk in preparation for the interviews. A reporter, J. R. Lockhart, from Godey’s Lady’s Book shook hands with men near the middle of the line then made a beeline for Abby.
“Mayor, a question please.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like clarification on the rumors that you are engaged to the sheriff. Yet, here you are, prepared to take part in the audition.”
Abby sighed. “It was only a rumor, nothing more.”
“Really? But the sheriff himself started the rumor.” He pulled a notepad from an inside pocket of his jacket.
Abby choked back a groan. “I have no intention of marrying the sheriff. Now, please excuse me, I must take my seat.” She left the reporter standing in the center of the room. When would the silly statement Josiah made die?
The women took their seats at the tables. Nervous expressions flitted across their
faces. Caroline Kane’s older sister, beautiful and aloof, picked at a spot on the table. Frieda Lomax, a widow, looked as if she were about ready to lose her lunch. Save for Jane Ransome, none of the ladies looked as self-assured as Abby had hoped. She put a hand over her own nervous stomach and nodded to have the doors open, then hurried to a table of her own.
The first man inside was Josiah, who had taken up position right inside and glared at each man who entered. If he didn’t look a bit more pleasant, he’d scare them off.
“Howdy.” A handsome man in a threadbare woolen suit sat across from Abby. “You’re a fine-looking woman.”
“Thank you.” She forced a smile and folded her hands on top of the table. “Are you a God-fearing man, Mr—”
“Dixon. Name’s William Dixon. Yes, ma’am, I am.”
She should have brought the questions she’d written out. “What do you do for a living?”
“Well, I reckon iffen you pick me, I’ll take over as mayor. I’ve a good head on my shoulders and a talent for figuring.”
Give up her job as mayor? The thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I’m not thinking of giving up my position, sir. I rather enjoy the act of mayor. Besides, it’s an elected position. It wouldn’t pass to you just because we got married.”
His smile faded. “It wouldn’t do for a man to run for the office against his wife, now would it?”
“No, I guess not.” She sighed and endured his endless chatter until the next man sat, and the next. All of whom thought they’d become mayor should she choose them.
She flicked a glance at the stony-faced Josiah. Would he expect the same? Did all men believe the role of mayor wasn’t fit for a woman? She’d thought so herself, once upon a time. Now, she realized the women of Turtle Springs were every bit as capable as men at running the businesses. Would they all have to hand over the reins after marriage?
Josiah met her glance and winked. Immediately, her nerves settled. A smile spread across her face, giving hope to the man sitting across from her.
He prattled on about his dreams of owning his own ranch. She kept smiling and tuned him out. Not one man that afternoon set her heart aflutter. Not one man other than the one wearing a shiny star on his vest, that is. The one man in the room who wasn’t there to find a bride.
“Are you hungry, ma’am?” A nice-looking man in brown pants and a crisp tan shirt handed her a glass of punch and a plate of sandwiches. “I couldn’t help noticing you didn’t get up to imbibe in refreshments.”
“Thank you.” She lifted her gaze to meet the dark brown ones of a man around her age. “I’m Abigail Melton.”
“Lawrence Nelson, at your service.” He reached out to shake her hand. “I’m pretty sure I have the answers to any questions you might have. I love the Lord, attend church regularly, and until recently spent much of my time as a circuit preacher. Then the war came, and after a stint as chaplain, I realized I wanted to settle down with a wife and family. I’ve purchased a bit of land outside of town and hope to grow a fine herd of cattle.”
He sounded too good to be true. “Are you adverse to a time of courtship, Mr. Nelson?”
“Not at all. I think it quite prudent. Marriage vows are not to be taken lightly, Miss Melton.”
“I agree.” She toasted him with her glass of punch and sipped the sweet drink as she studied him over the rim. If she couldn’t have Josiah, Mr. Nelson came in a close second. “How do you feel about a woman mayor?”
“I reckon I’ll be too busy ranching to undertake the position myself.” He grinned. “You seem to have done a fine job, so far.”
She narrowed her eyes. The man was nothing like the others. She waited for a niggling from the Lord that he was not as he appeared. When none came, she returned his grin. “I’d like to invite you to supper tomorrow night, Mr. Nelson.”
“I’m pleased to accept your invitation.”
Josiah wanted to shoot the man laughing with Abigail. Especially when fifteen minutes was up and the man waved on the next interviewee. His fingers twitched toward the gun at his belt.
Hold up, pardner. You’ve no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who told Abigail you weren’t looking for a wife.
He needed some air. He shoved through the door, emerging into the dusk. Who knew two hours could seem like forever? The men were all well-behaved. Josiah wasn’t needed in there any more than he was needed out here. He fell onto a bench and slumped against the wood. He was a coward. If he wasn’t, he’d march in there and tell Abigail what a fool he was, and ask her to forget the grinning imbecile across from her and marry him.
He wanted to leave. Not just the restaurant, but the town. But, he’d given his word to oversee the auditions. Then he’d start thinking about finding a man to replace him as sheriff and drift to the next town. One where the women weren’t crazy and man hungry.
The restaurant door opened. “Josiah? Are you all right?” Abigail sat on the bench next to him.
“Shouldn’t you be inside laughing with that … sheep head?”
She chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“Well I’m not.” He lunged to his feet. “I’m just tired of the circus.”
Her face fell. “We’re finishing up. You’re free to go.”
He couldn’t help but wonder whether she meant to his one-room home behind the jail or free to leave town. He opened his mouth to clarify then snapped it shut. With a touch of his fingers to the brim of his hat, he turned and stormed away.
His walk didn’t stop at the jail. Instead, he passed the church, then the shack of Mr. and Mrs. Watson, until he reached the creek. He stooped and chose several rocks good for skipping and skimmed them across the water.
If he left, the Watsons would be without work. If he left, he’d never see Abigail again. Could he bear to stay and watch another man court then marry her? Oh yes, he’d been eavesdropping. He’d heard all the ways the man met her silly list of criteria.
“Hey, mister!”
He turned to see one of the Watson boys, he didn’t know the name before the woman remarried, standing behind him in dirty overalls and no shirt or shoes. “What ’cha doing?”
“Thinking.”
“About something sad from the look on your face. A girl? They’re always making fellas sad.”
Josiah laughed. “How old are you, son?”
“Ten.” The boy skipped a rock farther across the creek than any of Josiah’s had gone. “Am I right about what you’re thinking?”
“Yes.”
“A waste of time in my mind. Girls are trouble. They don’t like to get dirty, and they run and tattle on every little thing.”
“I reckon.”
“I’m Owen. You’re sweet on the mayor. Ain’t you engaged to her? Is that what has you so sad?”
How could Josiah have forgotten? The town didn’t know he and Abigail were only pretending to be engaged. She couldn’t court another man when everyone thought she belonged to him. He started to head back to town then stopped.
She had to have said something. No one seemed surprised to see her sitting in the auditions. He glanced back at the boy. “I think our relationship is dissolved.”
“If you don’t want it to be then fight for her. That’s what my pa would have said. Iffen he were here.”
Josiah ruffled Owen’s hair. “You’re wise beyond your years, son. Thank you.” He turned and jogged back through the trees. He’d made up his mind. Forget his vow to never marry. He’d rather spend the rest of his life with Abigail than wait for a war that might never come.
He stopped a few feet from the restaurant as those inside began filing out. Abigail and her new beau were one of the last to leave. Just as Josiah stepped forward, the scoundrel bent and placed a kiss on Abigail’s cheek.
Her face turned the shade of pink that was quickly becoming Josiah’s favorite color. When he was the one to put it there. He clenched his fists. How dare the man take such liberties?
; “Hey! That’s my girl.” The words burst forth before his mind could register the fact they’d formed.
“Josiah.” Abigail’s eyes widened. “Our engagement wasn’t real.”
“Maybe I want it to be.”
“What kind of game are you playing? I’ve agreed to let Mr. Nelson court me.” She turned to the man at her side and excused herself. She grabbed Josiah’s arm and dragged him between two buildings. “Explain yourself. You’ve embarrassed me.”
He didn’t know what to say.
She stomped her foot. “Well? Is it only that you’re afraid of losing face? I’ve dropped hints here and there for the last couple of days that we are no longer together. I’ve made it out to be all my fault.” She glanced toward the street. “Which will probably cost me the next election, but I know how much your freedom means to you.”
“My freedom?” he whispered. He didn’t want to be free. Not from her.
She turned red-rimmed eyes his way. “Yes. You’ve made it very clear that marriage is not in your future. You’ve mentioned not sticking around Turtle Springs for long. Now, you’re free to decide what it is you want.” With a swish of her skirt, she flounced down the sidewalk and away from him.
He wanted her. Only he was too dense to know how to tell her so.
Chapter 8
Abby sat with her back to a giant oak tree next to the creek and listened to Mr. Nelson rattle on about the different types of cattle, and the pros and cons of each. It’s all the man talked about. She pulled a blade of grass and twirled it in her fingers.
“Am I boring you, dearest?” He glanced up from where he reclined on one elbow.
“Of course not.” Yes. After three days of agreeing to a courtship and spending every supper hour with him of those three days, she was bored out of her mind. They had absolutely nothing in common. The man was well-mannered, polite, and as pompous as a person could be.
Ma tolerated him, Lucy avoided him, and Ma’s beau, Hank Weldon, didn’t speak to him, only grunted. It didn’t help that at every meal Lucy asked when Josiah was going to visit again. That comment only made Mr. Nelson talk more.
Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection Page 5
