“Well?”
She wasn’t aware he’d asked her a question. “Pardon me?”
“You are not with me, Abigail.” Mr. Nelson frowned. “I believe it’s time I took you home.” He stood and helped her to her feet. After folding the faded quilt and tucking it under his arm, he led her past the church and into town. “I do believe I’ll be quite pleased when the saloon opens.” He peered through a crack in one of the boarded-up windows. “A man needs some pleasurable pastimes.”
Her steps faltered. “Wouldn’t he find that within the walls of his home? With his wife and children?”
He gave a patronizing smile. “You are sweet. There are things about a man that women simply cannot understand.”
It took all her willpower not to groan. He really was insufferable. “I’m going to plead a headache.” She stomped away from him.
“I’ve said something to upset you.” He hurried to catch up with her. “Is it the saloon?”
“Partly. We’ve managed just fine for a year without one. No loose women, no rowdy drunks.” Well, until Mr. Watson. “We’ve enjoyed the peace, Mr. Nelson.”
“Dearest.” There was that simpering smile she’d thought charming three days ago. “Things are different. Men have arrived.”
She opened her mouth to give a sharp retort when she caught sight of Josiah whittling outside the jail. Her heart fluttered. How different he was from the man standing next to her.
A young woman stopped beside Josiah. Whatever she said made him laugh. Jealousy rose in Abby faster than a jackrabbit bolting from its burrow. She squelched the emotion. She had no hold on him. Obviously, he’d decided to stay in Turtle Springs. People were going to speak with him, women included.
Mr. Nelson tugged her arm. “We’re engaged now. Ogling other men is not proper.”
“I’m the mayor. The sheriff and I often need to work closely together.”
“Perhaps I’ll become sheriff. I’ve been told I’m a fair shot.”
She cut him a quick glance. “You’re a rancher.”
“I could do both. The man rarely moves from that spot, it seems.”
“Because this is a peaceful town. Reopening the saloon will change that.” She thought of the petition still on her desk. If possible, she’d never sign it or bring it before the other women in meeting. No, that wouldn’t work. Any town meetings would now involve men. Men who wanted a saloon.
“All right, dear. We won’t bother your pretty little head anymore with a subject so distasteful to you.” He stopped at the bottom of the steps to her home. As he’d done every night since the audition, he tried to steal a kiss. Just as she’d done every time, she turned her head to where his lips only grazed her cheek.
“Good night, Mr. Nelson.”
“Please call me Lawrence.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve asked several times.”
She stepped back at the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Of course … Lawrence.”
He smiled. “Very good.” Whistling, he headed toward his room above the restaurant.
Abby plopped into a rocking chair on the porch. How was she going to end things with Mr. Nelson? It became more and more apparent that marriage to him was far worse than spinsterhood.
But probably not bad at all, if she were married to Josiah. As if her thoughts had conjured him, he strolled toward her home. He stopped and propped a booted foot on the bottom step.
“Evenin’, Abigail.” His deep voice cut smoothly through the darkening night.
“Josiah. What brings you here?”
“The town wants to meet on the saloon.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. “I’m sick of talking about the saloon.”
“You can’t put it off forever.”
“Fine. We’ll discuss it at the next town meeting.” She pushed her toes against the floor and set the chair to rocking.
Josiah bounded up the stairs and sat in the rocker next to her. “What’s wrong?”
She rolled her head to peer through the dark. “I don’t want to marry Mr. Nelson.”
“Then don’t.”
“I gave my word.”
“So?” His teeth flashed. “You broke off with me easily enough.”
“Our engagement wasn’t real.” Pain squeezed her heart.
Josiah reached over and took her hand. “You aren’t hitched yet. There’s time to back out. Think long and hard, Abigail. Marriage is until death do you part.”
His touch burned her, and she pulled away. “I know.”
“The tone of your voice tells me you’ve decided.”
Was she imagining the hope in his voice? “I don’t want to die a spinster,” she whispered.
“Darlin’, there is no chance of that happening.” He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Pray about it. I think you forgot that important step when you came up with the audition idea, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I’ve always been one to jump ahead without asking God whether I should or not. I will pray about it, Josiah. Thank you.”
“Make sure you wait for the answer.” He chuckled and stood. “I’ll be seeing you around, Mayor.”
The next morning, Josiah woke with a smile on his face. Not that he wanted Abigail to be unhappy. Not at all. He only wanted her to be happy with him. Which was selfish and unfair, he knew. Still, his heart knew what it wanted. Why else had he stayed away from her? She needed to miss him as much as he missed her. He saw a glimpse of that last night.
Swinging his legs off the side of his cot, he tugged on his boots, splashed water on his face, then grabbed his hat, ready to start the day. As was his morning routine, he got coffee at the restaurant and strolled the two streets before unlocking the jail. Since releasing the two women last week, he hadn’t had any overnight visitors. Mrs. Watson kept the place so clean you could eat off the floors, and her husband stayed busy painting and nailing all over town.
Not once had Josiah regretted his decision to hire them. He glanced at the boarded-up saloon, the place of so much discussion and dissension in town. He spotted Mr. Nelson and Mr. Harper in deep discussion in front of the building. What possible interest could Mr. Nelson have in the saloon, other than a place to grab a nip once in a while? The two men didn’t appear to be strangers.
Josiah moseyed closer, pretending to be interested in a loose board on the livery.
“I’m telling you, I can control the mayor,” Nelson said. “She’s wrapped around my finger, completely ensnared by my charm.”
Josiah scoffed. If the man only knew.
“I need this saloon to open,” Harper said. “I’ve no other way of making a living, and I’m not inclined to be a traveling man. If we set up gambling tables here, bring in a few soiled doves, we’re bound to rake in the coins. Men will be starved for entertainment within a few weeks’ time.”
Not good, God-fearing men, Josiah thought. There were church socials, the occasional barn raising, the upcoming Founder’s Day celebration, all wholesome, clean fun for families. Not that the town had hosted any … yet, but he knew they were coming once the weddings commenced.
“What are we going to do about that sheriff?” Nelson asked. “He acts like he’s lazy and not aware of his surroundings, but my guess is he keeps an eagle eye on everything that goes on in this town.”
Josiah smiled, stepping farther around the corner, out of sight. He moved still closer to the men.
“He might know what’s going on around here,” Harper added, “but that’s nothing a bullet can’t put an end to. You let me handle the sheriff. You keep working on the mayor. Use force and threats if you have to.” Footsteps sounded, heading away.
Josiah leaned against the side of the building. He needed to warn Abigail. Since she was already adverse to marrying Nelson, anything Josiah said wouldn’t affect her decision unless to confirm it. He pushed away from the wall and headed to her office. He peered through the open window.
He was too late. Nelson had beat him there.
&
nbsp; The man perched on the corner of Abigail’s desk. She stared up, unsmiling, then shook her head and stood. Whatever she said made the man angry.
He bolted over the desk, scattering papers and pencils to grab her arms. He shook her, his voice rising. “How dare you! No woman breaks up with the likes of me. Especially some low-down prairie mayor.”
Josiah banged open the door. “Problem here?”
Abigail shook free. “Not at all. Mr. Nelson was just leaving.”
“You haven’t heard the last of this, Abigail. Mark my words.”
Chapter 9
Abby stared over the sea of faces in the pews and squared her shoulders for battle. Her gaze landed on the glare of Mr. Nelson. Let him stare. She wasn’t afraid, not with Josiah standing mere feet away.
“Good afternoon, good people of Turtle Springs. So many new faces. So many newly blended families. Welcome to our humble town.” She gripped the sides of the podium. “We have only one item on our agenda today, and that is the possible reopening of the saloon.”
Cheers and groans filled the church.
She held up her hands for silence. “We will have folks speak their opinion on the matter then place it to a vote. Before I hear any complaints, men and women will have the right to vote in this. Is it fair to forbid the women, the very ones who kept this town running, the right to vote on the town’s welfare? I think not.” She glanced at the papers in front of her. “The first to speak is Mrs. Bombay.”
The woman bustled down the aisle, practically shoving Abby out of the way. Mrs. Bombay took her time looking around the room then spoke. “I say no. That building should have been torn down months ago. My dearly departed husband liked his drink, oh yes he did. That caused no small amount of trouble between the two of us.
“I say, we turn the saloon into a meeting hall. A place for social events. Not a place for loose women and whiskey that addles a man’s mind.”
Abby stepped close and whispered, “Tell us why it’s a bad idea, Mrs. Bombay. List the facts, not your personal opinion.”
“Very well. Drunkenness, unfaithfulness, rowdiness, that is what will come of reopening the saloon. Good points … there are none. Thank you.” She stepped down and marched back to her seat.
“Sheriff?”
Josiah took his place behind the podium and tossed her a wink. “Now, folks, I’m an impartial party to this debate, but I’d like to tell you how things will go if the saloon is opened.” He met the curious looks of several in the audience. “Yes, crime will rise. Yes, I’ll take care of any infractions in a timely manner. Laws will be posted outside the saloon. Anyone who removes those laws will be dealt with severely. This is a God-fearing town, and I’d like to keep it that way. One thing I will forbid, should the saloon open, is prostitution. Should that occur, the doors will be nailed shut immediately. You can have a peaceful place for men to gather. I’ve seen them. A place where men talk business, smoke cigars, have a drink, and play cards. Loose women are not needed in such a place.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Abby called out the next name. “Mr. Lawrence Nelson will speak on behalf of the saloon.”
“Now, my good people of Turtle Springs.” He gave a charming smile. “Do not listen to the naysayers. This saloon of Mr. Harper’s will be nothing like the passionate Mrs. Bombay described. It will simply be a place for men to gather, play cards, smoke a fine cigar, imbibe in the best whiskey, just as your fine sheriff said. Yes, there will be women, but they are only there to sing and to serve. Nothing more.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I swear on my dear mama’s grave.”
It was all Abby could do not to scoff out loud. The man was as slick as oil spilled across water. All it would take to cause destruction was a spark.
“Soon,” he continued, “I will be a prominent rancher in these parts, and intend to run for mayor in the next election, alongside my beautiful fiancée. What a competition that will be!”
Anger, hotter than a July sun, rose in Abby. Her face heated as applause broke out. The man had once been a preacher, he’d said. How could he behave this way if that were true? She cast a worried glance toward Josiah.
He smiled and winked again, reassuring her. All would be well as long as he was near.
Abby took the podium. “Thank you, Mr. Nelson.” She lowered her voice and hissed, “We are no longer courting. Remember?” She forced a smile and turned back to the others. “There are ballots in the back for your votes. One says yay, the other nay. Simply sign your name and drop into the appropriate box. One vote per person, please, or your vote will be discarded.”
She stepped next to Josiah. “I think it best to wait until the line dies down a bit, don’t you?”
“Go with me to the June social.”
“What?” She glanced up.
“I want to dance with you. It’ll be the best way to show the townsfolk that you aren’t with Nelson.”
“But, I’m not with you, either.”
He grinned, a dimple winking in his cheek. “They’ll think we had a lover’s spat and made up.”
“Another ruse.” She couldn’t. Her heart couldn’t take another pretend romance with Josiah.
“It doesn’t have to be.” His eyes darkened. “I meet your criteria, Abigail. Give—”
Shouts erupted from the makeshift voting booths. Josiah exhaled sharply and headed toward the commotion.
Abby eyed the simple cross on the wall behind her. God, please help her deal with Josiah.
With more force than necessary, Josiah yanked the two squabbling men apart. Just as he was about to pour out his heart to Abigail, they had to go and ruin it! “Settle down or I’ll haul both your sorry behinds to jail.”
“He started it, Sheriff.” One man so skinny a strong wind would knock him over pointed at another man as wide as he was tall. “He said that I wasn’t capable of voting because I was a few rocks short of a ton.”
Whatever that meant. Josiah turned to the heavier man. “Everyone gets a vote.”
“He don’t even live here. He lives outside the town limits. Only citizens should vote.”
“Where do you live?” Josiah crossed his arms. “Above the restaurant? As a guest? Or have you procured permanent lodgings?”
The man’s face darkened. “That’s what I thought. You have no more right to a vote than this gentleman. Listen up!” Josiah faced the line. “Unless you’ve made Turtle Springs your permanent home, please leave. If you’re only passing through, you don’t get a vote.”
Grumblings rose at his word, but several men stepped out of line and stormed from the church.
Josiah grinned. Those men would have voted on the side of the saloon, no doubt. He eyed the others. The men still outnumbered the ladies, but there was nothing more he could do to help Abigail’s cause.
Withdrawing a telegram from his pocket, he headed back to the front where Abigail kneeled. He stood back and waited for her to finish her prayer, then helped her to her feet when she made to rise.
“I have something for you.” He handed her the telegram.
She read it then raised her head, a questioning look on her face. “What does it mean?”
“Nelson is no more a preacher than I am. I had a friend of mine do some checking. That isn’t all.” He took her by the elbow and led her to a far corner of the room. “I overheard him and Harper talking. Nelson plans on forcing you to agree to the saloon while Harper will take care of me.”
“Take care of you?” Her eyes widened. “Does that mean he intends harm?”
“Most likely. Don’t worry, Darlin’. I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“He wouldn’t dare.” She crossed her arms and glared to where Nelson stood off to the side watching every ballot that went into the voting boxes. From the pleased look on the man’s face, more were going into the yay than the nay.
For that reason only, Josiah wasn’t overly afraid for Abigail. The man wouldn’t harm her if the town voted in favor of the saloon. Unless
…
“Who has final say in the voting?”
Abigail grinned. “I do. It’s in the town’s bylaws. Of course, I usually side with the majority. I won’t allow the saloon, at least not right away. I’m going to do everything in my power to see those two men run out of town.”
Concern for her safety rose again. “The saloon will pass by a large margin. Let me handle the men.”
“You don’t think I’m capable of ridding this town of a nuisance? How do you think we survived the last year? All I need to do is get a group of like-minded women—”
“Some men don’t have any qualms about harming women.”
“I daresay we’ll be fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
“Abigail—”
She pushed to the front of the line, signed a ballot, and dropped it into the nay box with a defiant glare at Nelson and Harper. Then, pretty head held high, she strolled from the church as if they’d just had a service.
Josiah kept a close watch on the two men, following when Nelson left through a side door. Staying out of sight, he watched as the man increased his pace to catch up with Abigail.
She whirled, her cheeks a bright pink. Whatever Nelson said didn’t sit well with her. She tossed her head back like a spirited filly and let loose a barrage of words Josiah couldn’t make out.
Didn’t she see she was only pouring kerosene onto an already blazing fire? When Nelson grabbed her arm, Josiah rushed forward. “What’s going on?”
“This man refuses to see reason.” Abigail crossed her arms. “He can’t seem to fathom that I’m serious about not marrying him.”
“She’s quite serious.” Josiah slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “She can’t marry you, sir, because she’s marrying me. A week from Saturday.”
Nelson stepped back. “So, Miss Melton only toyed with my affections.”
“No.” Abigail shook her head. “I’ve come to the realization that we are not a likely couple. It’s better to know that now than later.”
“You’d marry a drifter over someone with an affluent future?” Nelson glanced from Josiah to Abigail. “You’ll regret this decision, my dear.” He turned on a well-shined shoe and marched back to the church.
Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection Page 6
