RNWMP: Bride for Easton (Mail Order Mounties Book 11)

by Cassie Hayes

  “Ma’am, don’t listen to him. He’s a charlatan, a fraud. Whatever he’s selling you won’t help your condition, and it may harm you.”

  “Now listen here—“ Kinderhawk objected, just as Sinead pulled the stopper from the bottle labeled Magnificent Mother’s Milk and took a deep sniff.

  “Phew!” she said, squinching her face up in distaste. “Grain alcohol, with maybe a hint of mint and camphor thrown in for good measure.”

  “The ingredients in my patented medicines are proprietary,” Kinderhawk insisted, his desperate eyes darting from Sinead to Molly, then over to Mrs. Hildebrand. “They’re proven effective!”

  “Says you,” Molly snorted.

  “Take your hands off me!” Mrs. Hildebrand said, wrenching her arm away. “You’re that little thief who tried to steal my glove. Go on, shoo! Leave me to my business and mind your own.”

  Kinderhawk smiled at Mrs. Hildebrand, while shooting a triumphant glare at Sinead and Molly. “Let me package these up for you while to find your coin purse, my good lady. Please ignore these dubious doubters.”

  “Ma’am,” Sinead said, “these medicines could hurt you and your baby.”

  The woman huffed, and looked Sinead up and down, much as she had Molly weeks before. “How would you know?”

  “Because I’m a doctor. A real doctor, not some imposter who tacked on the title to his own name. If that’s even his real name. I can tell you that this one—“ she picked up the unguent “—is made up of nothing more than petroleum jelly and camphor, and the one meant for your newborn baby almost certainly contains opium. Isn’t that right Mister Kinderhawk?”

  Kinderhawk grew red-faced and blustery. “I told you, the ingredients—“

  “Yeah, yeah,” Molly interrupted. “You just don’t want people to know how useless or dangerous they are.”

  “That’s a lie!” He stormed around the table to confront her.

  Molly stood her ground and glared up at him with the full might of her fury. “You’re the liar! Your fake medicines could hurt this woman and her child! You’re a fraud who should be run out of town on a rail!”

  Kinderhawk loomed over her, his fists at the ready. “And who’s gonna make me?”

  Molly’s vision turned red, and before she knew what was happening, she leapt at the man, fists pounding and fingernails scratching. The attack only lasted a few seconds before strong arms enveloped her and pulled her off Kinderhawk.

  “Enough of that, now,” a familiar voice growled in her ear, and Molly calmed in an instant. Easton was here. He’d take care of everything.

  “Mountie, I want that woman arrested,” screeched a hysterical Kinderhawk. “Just look what she did to me!”

  The formerly tidy ‘doctor’ was no longer so tidy. His slick hair wasn’t just mussed, it was actually…crooked! Before she could stop herself, Molly barked out a loud laugh.

  “Is that a wig?”

  Kinderhawk quickly adjusted the hairpiece, but it still sat slightly askew. “It’s called a toupee, you halfwit!”

  Easton stepped forward and bumped the man with his chest. “Easy now, that’s my wife. Now what’s going on here?”

  Everyone but Mrs. Hildebrand spoke at once, and somehow Easton managed to listen to all of them. Finally, he turned to Kinderhawk with an expression that would have sent a bear running.

  “Out,” he said quietly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t make me repeat myself again. Get out. Out of town this very day, or you’ll regret every minute you stay here in Cougar Springs — because it will be in a cell. I’ve seen dozens of your kind pass through here, and I’ve seen even more trusting people duped into buying your junk. I’ll say it one more time so you hear it right…”

  Easton stepped so close to Kinderhawk the man had to tip his head back to look up into Easton’s glowering face. “Out.”

  It was barely a whisper, but Kinderhawk jumped as if Easton had shouted. Within seconds, he’d packed up his bottles and was practically sprinting for the train station. They all watched his retreating form until he disappeared from view.

  “So…” Mrs. Hildebrand ventured quietly, “he really was a fake?”

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am,” Easton said. “I’m sorry about all of this. But Mrs. Montgomery is a doctor, and my wife is a midwife. They were only trying to help you.”

  Mrs. Hildebrand turned to the women, her eyes misting up. “I’m sorry for not believing you, ladies. I’m just so tired and uncomfortable, and the hot springs aren’t helping at all.”

  Easton shifted his feet as the woman broke down in tears. Molly patted his arm, then pulled Mrs. Hildebrand into a deep, comforting hug. “Don’t think of it again, dear one. Shh…”

  After a few minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, Mrs. Hildebrand finally composed herself. Easton proffered a handkerchief, which set Molly’s heart pounding. Always the gentleman!

  “I need help,” Mrs. Hildebrand murmured, then caught Molly’s gaze. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to come stay with me until the baby’s born, or until my husband returns in a week’s time? I have a full suite in the Institute, and I’ll pay you handsomely.”

  The fee she quoted sent Molly reeling backward until she bumped into her husband. His warmth seeped into her, giving her the strength she needed. “That’s more than I earn in a month cleaning rooms, and you can’t be more than a week away from giving birth!”

  “Your lips to the good Lord’s ears. Is it a deal?”

  Molly could barely believe her good fortune. More than anything, she wanted to use her skills as a midwife, but she had a husband to think about now. She turned hopeful eyes up to him. “Is it all right with you?”

  He brushed a lock of her tousled hair from her forehead. “I know how important this is to you. I’ll miss you.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth, ignoring Mrs. Hildebrand’s shocked gasp and Sinead’s snicker. Warm tendrils snaked around her heart as he responded, pulling her close to him. When they finally broke apart, she whispered into his ear.

  “Now you can arrange the house any way you like. Just be careful of my things when you put them away.”

  Surprise flashed across his face for a moment, then he grinned. “I promise.”

  After escorting Molly to Mrs. Hildebrand’s suite of rooms, Easton’s first stop was the station, where he instructed Matthew to make sure the fake doctor boarded the next train out. His second stop was Sam’s.

  “Here ya go, Commander,” Sam said, setting a plate in front of him. “And your iced tea, as usual.”

  The steak still sizzled and the steaming baked potato melted a huge hunk of butter. Perfection! The tantalizing combined scents caused his stomach to rumble in anticipation of the tasty meal. Not that Molly wasn’t a wonderful cook, but this dinner seemed special to Easton. He’d taken a few meals at Sam’s since Molly blew into his life like a tornado, but he’d barely tasted the food because he’d been brooding over whatever argument they’d just had. The meal before him was a reminder of a time before, a time that seemed so far away, yet just out of reach.

  Reaching for his glass, he stopped and smiled. A huge icicle stuck out of it, acting as the ‘ice’ in his iced tea.

  “Cute,” he said to Sam, who was in the process of settling herself in the chair across from him.

  She shrugged. “I work with what I got. We don’t get much call for iced tea this time of year, Commander, but you know I always keep a pitcher of it made up just for you.”

  “Thanks, Sam.” Easton cut his first hunk of steak and popped it into his mouth with a smile. The smile faltered as he chewed the leathery steak. Strange…usually Sam’s food was impeccable.

  “You seem to be in a better mood than the last few times you’ve been in,” Sam said, leaning back to appraise him.

  “Molly was hired by a mother-to-be to stay with her for a week or so. Said I could put the cabin back to rights while she’s gone.”

  �
��Ah, and you can’t wait for your life to return to normal, is that right?”

  Easton pointed his fork at Sam and winked as he chewed…and chewed and chewed. He gulped down half the glass of tea just to wash it down. To cleanse his palate, he dug into the potato. No one can mess up a potato, he thought.

  He was wrong.

  It was tender enough, but something didn’t taste quite right. Not as if it had gone bad, just that it wasn’t as tasty as he remembered. He added salt and pepper, thinking that might help.

  It didn’t.

  “Any good gossip you’d like to share?” Sam asked.

  “Pretty quiet since Jenkins lit out. Ran a snake-oil salesman out of town this afternoon, though.”

  “Oh, that tall, lanky chap? Something-hawk?”

  “Kinderhawk.”

  “That’s the one. He tried to hawk — pardon the pun — his wares in here earlier. I chased him out with a broom. Good riddance, I say.”

  No one messed with Sam or her business. She’d held little regard for Dr. Jenkins, the former head of the Institute, and the feeling was mutual. He had often complained to Easton about how harmful her liquor and meat were to his patients, but Easton didn’t think they were any more harmful than the ridiculous ‘medicines’ the man had poured down the gullets of his patients. At least Sam was honest about what she was selling.

  “Well, Commander, I hope you enjoy this time on your own as much as you think you will,” Sam said, pulling herself upright and tipping him a wink before heading back to the bar.

  He mulled over her words in his head, trying to make sense of them. Of course he was going to enjoy his time alone. Ever since the brides had arrived in town, he’d barely had a minute’s peace. Between his normal work load, trying to keep Matthew’s wife alive, and building a life with Molly, he’d had precious little time just for himself.

  Pushing the plate of disappointing food away, he carefully set his hat back on his head and shrugged into his winter coat, before tossing money on the table and heading for home. Ah, home. He hadn’t really felt like calling it that for a few weeks now, but tonight it would be all his again.

  Throwing open the door, he was taken aback for a split second at the cabin’s cold, dark interior. Right! Molly’s not here to light the lamps. Stamping the snow from his boots, Easton carefully stepped on a rug Molly had made from a pile of old sheets the hotel had thrown out. It made a perfect mud mat, and the knotted scraps of fabric gave the entry a warm, homey feel.

  “It’s got to go,” he mumbled, stooping to pick up the little rug. It was just the first item that didn’t belong in his home.

  For the next half-hour, he happily collected all of Molly’s things — so few, in fact, that it surprised him — and stored them in a crate, carefully placing her precious trinkets on top so they wouldn’t be damaged. He slid the crate under the bed, then went about the business of putting all the furniture back where it belonged.

  Only…he couldn’t quite recall exactly where his small bookcase had sat. He knew which wall it should sit against, but was it near the corner or closer to the fireplace? And something about the table and chairs didn’t look quite right, but he couldn’t figure out what. At least he knew where his rocker belonged, because that was one item Molly hadn’t rearranged.

  For the better part of a month, he’d rocked quietly, reading a book or sipping a cup of tea — oftentimes both — while Molly prattled away about her day while she knitted or embroidered or whatever it was called. In the beginning, it had felt like an intrusion, but he’d learned to live with it. With her.

  Easton breathed out a sigh of utter contentment when he finally leaned back in his rocking chair near the fire and breathed in the scent of his favorite English tea. Just like it used to be. He allowed his gaze to flit around his cabin, wondering why everything seemed just a little out of place, but a knock at the door startled him before he could figure it out.

  Matthew stood on the doorstep, grinning like an idiot.

  “What?” Easton asked perfunctorily.

  “Good evening to you too! Just wanted to report that the man you wanted out of town boarded the last train of the day, and I watched it pull out. He’s gone.”

  “Kinderhawk. Good.” The man had come altogether too close to threatening Molly, and it still made Easton’s blood boil.

  “So…” Matthew continued, peering over Easton’s shoulder, “how’s everything?”

  Easton huffed and rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man enjoy a quiet evening alone without his coworkers coming to bother him?” The question came out a little gruffer than he’d intended.

  “Yeah, I heard you were going it alone for the next week,” Matthew said, poking his head inside and taking in the newly rearranged interior. “Boy, you didn’t waste any time putting thing back to rights, did you? It looks as charming as a prison cell in there, as usual.”

  Easton looked around. Everything seemed normal to him…well, almost normal. He still couldn’t figure out why the furniture placement didn’t look right.

  “What’re you on about, Matthew? Looks fine to me.”

  Matthew shrugged. “Looks like a monk’s cell to me. Then again, I like how Sinead made my cold ol’ cabin into a real home.” He tipped his hat and hurried off into the night.

  Easton closed the door slowly, almost absentmindedly, as he looked around the cabin with fresh eyes. What he’d always considered ‘efficient’ now looked stark and barren. No family photographs or heirlooms decorated the place. That required having a family in the first place. Not even a knitted afghan hung over the back of his rocker, as he’d seen in many homes he’d visited.

  No wonder Molly had immediately set about making the cabin more homey. She’d grown up in a big family and had moved to a convent at a young age. He’d never stepped foot in one, but he assumed their accommodations were ‘efficient’ too. She’d put that life behind her to come west to marry him, and then she’d found herself in a home with just as much charm and warmth as the convent she’d fled.

  Easing back into his rocker, Easton finally realized why his home didn’t seem right. “Huh, whaddya know,” he whispered to the roaring fire. “I miss my wife.”

  Chapter 6

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here all by yourself, Constance?” Molly asked Mrs. Hildebrand, who had insisted on being called by her first name.

  Constance lay back on her fainting couch and waved a hand. “It’s only for one night. Charles’s train arrives in the morning — or is supposed to, if it doesn’t get delayed again. Besides, I’m much better now that I’ve stopped taking all those silly potions. I really can’t believe I was so gullible.”

  There’s no shame in trusting someone who claims to be a doctor,” Molly said as she packed up the small bag she’d brought with her. “I just wish your husband could be here with you.”

  “So do I, but Charles had a very important meeting with the board of directors this week. And between you and me, I think my moods might have been getting to him a little. I’ll try to be better.”

  Molly laughed. “If he thinks that’s bad, just wait until the baby wakes up screaming every couple of hours. He’ll wish for the days when only you were peevish.”

  Though they hadn’t started off on the best foot during their first meeting, Molly had grown to truly care for Constance Hildebrand. She lived in Toronto with her husband in what sounded like a mansion. They’d come to the Institute for help alleviating her normal pregnancy symptoms.

  All of the woman’s clothes looked too fine to even touch, much less wear, but she had no qualms about leaving them lying around her suite of rooms in piles. Over the past week, Molly had practiced her maid skills as much as she had her midwife skills.

  “And you promise you won’t go to the hot springs anymore, right? It’s not healthy for the baby and the most it will do for you is ease your backache, which you can do just as easily with a hot water bottle.”

  Constance nodded. “I promise, I promise.
Now will you get out of here already? I feel guilty enough as it is that I’ve taken you away from your new husband for so long.”

  Molly clenched her jaw as she slipped her mother’s shawl from her shoulders so she could shrug into her coat. “I wish I knew if he felt the same. He seemed pretty eager for me to stay with you.”

  Constance clucked at her, then threw her legs over the side of the couch and tried to pull herself upright. Molly rushed to help her.

  “No! I can do it, I just need—” she leaned backward “—a little—“ then forward “—momentum.” With a mighty grunt, she hauled her swollen body upright and held onto an end table until she was steady on her feet. “See?”

  “Very impressive,” Molly said, choking back a snicker at the display.

  “Now, as I was going to say, just be patient. I see the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks you’re not looking. He cares for you deeply. I must admit, I’m a little envious. It took months for Charles to look at me that way.”

  In such a small town, it hadn’t taken long for Molly and Easton to run into each other, but their time together had always been brief and very public. As much as she’d wanted to fling herself into his arms and kiss him greedily, she was also very aware of his position in town. Plus, he certainly hadn’t made the first move by so much as touching her, and it would be unseemly for a woman to be so forward in front of others, even with her own husband.

  “I just wish I could make him laugh,” Molly grumbled. “Just once.”

  Constance pulled her into a hug, or as much of one as a nine-month-pregnant woman could give. “He will, trust me. Just be patient. Commander Cooper doesn’t seem the type of man who laughs easily, so when he finally does, that’s when you’ll know he truly trusts and loves you.”

  The ornate brass clock on the mantel dinged, and Molly gasped. “Oh! I meant to be home by now to make Easton breakfast. Now remember to send someone to fetch me as soon as labor pains begin, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Constance said, but Molly barely heard her as she sprinted out the door.