The Emperor's Bride

by Caylen McQueen

  Fifteen

  “Oh my god!” Carol exclaimed as she sloppily dismounted from the back of Josiah's horse. She ran to Gravestone's wooden poster board so fast, her bright yellow boots kicked up a storm of dust. “Josiah look!” she gasped, pointing at the wanted poster that was pinned to the center of the board. “You're on here!”

  Josiah made his horse trot a bit closer to the poster board before he dismounted. Sounding significantly less enthusiastic than Carol, he responded, “So I am.”

  “Wanted for arson, robbery, assault...” Carol read allowed. “Ohhhh Jojo... you bad boy you... did you really do all of those things?”

  “Maybe,” he shrugged. “And can you please not call me Jojo?”

  “Wow, they're offering a five hundred dollar reward!” Carol exclaimed. “Heck, for that much money, I'm tempted to turn you in myself!”

  “Alright.” Josiah rolled up his sleeves and winked. “But I won't come without a struggle, you know.”

  “Oh, hush. I'm not serious!” Carol freed the poster from the board and brought it closer to her face. In order to properly see it, she donned an unusually large pair of spectacles. “Hey, this is a pretty good likeness of you!”

  “Kinda,” he agreed.

  “You don't have this mustache anymore, though!” Carol sneered as she pointed at the sketch's upper lip. “Thank god you shaved it! Now you just have to get rid of that rotten chin beard, and you might actually be a good-looking guy.”

  “If I shave, I look about ten years younger. In the business I'm in, looking my brother's age isn't all that beneficial,” Josiah placidly explained. “And besides, I am a good-looking guy, beard or no beard.”

  Carol chuckled at his boast. “Well, aren't you confident!”

  As he listened to her laugh, Josiah hitched a shoulder. “Women have told me I'm good-looking. Why should I doubt them? Besides, I don't think you need to be commenting on my beard when you're wearing those glasses and that pink bow tie.” He wagged a finger at the colorful strip of cloth around her neck.

  Carol's bottom lip protruded at his words. “Aww... you don't like my bow tie?”

  “I'm sorry to have to say this, but I don't think anyone would like your bow tie all that much, Miss Cassady.” Josiah suddenly spun on his heel, turning in the direction of the jail. “And now, if you don't mind, I need to check on Pat.”

  “Oh, look! Your brother's here too!” Carol exclaimed as she ripped Flynn's poster from the board. “And he's worth two hundred dollars less than you. Does that make you happy or sad?”

  While walking away, Josiah replied, “Neither.”

  “Hey, they made him look kinda cute in his poster! And arson's not on his list of bad boy stuffs. What in the world were you burning down, Josiah? Gee, you're so naughty.” When Carol realized he was walking away with his horse, she pocketed both posters and chased after him. “Now I kinda feel like I want to be on a wanted poster!”

  “No... you don't,” Josiah mumbled over his shoulder.

  “I kind of do! Having a wanted poster means you're famous!”

  As he tied up his horse in front of the jail, Josiah shot her a scowl. “No, girl, it doesn't. It means you can get arrested at any time.”

  “Well... if that's the case, why are you walking into a building that says Sheriff over the door?” Carol gestured toward the enormous wooden sign that loomed in front of them.

  “Because I have an arrangement with the sheriff here. Sheriff Montgomery,” Josiah explained as they headed toward the door.

  “What kind of arrangement? Is it a sex thing?”

  “God, no. He's got my friend, Patrick Amberley. The reward for Pat's capture was worth even more than mine, and if you really want to know, the arson was his fault.” Josiah paused in front of the jail as he explained the situation to Carol. “Patrick's been locked up for months now... and the sheriff's threatened to hang him. If I don't bring him money by a certain time, my friend's going to swing.”

  “So the sheriff's blackmailing you? Or wait... is that extortion?” Carol tapped her chin as she tried to think of the appropriate word. “What the sheriff's doing doesn't seem completely legal, Josiah. Can't you stop him?”

  “And who would I tell?”

  “I don't know. There's got to be another lawman out here that can help you.”

  “And then what would happen, Miss Cassady? Did you think of that? That lawman would arrest me, and Patrick would swing anyway.” As he pushed his way through the jail's creaking door, Josiah shrugged. “At least this way, Pat's still got a chance.”

  When Carol followed him into the jail, she expected to see a grizzled old sheriff guarding a roomful of disgruntled detainees. Instead, she saw a young woman sitting at the sheriff's desk, reading a book, guarding an empty cell. The girl had her feet on the desk, and her long denim skirt had a slit up the side. Most of her bare legs were exposed by the pose, so Carol expected her to cover herself when they entered. Instead, she did the opposite. As soon as she saw Josiah, the girl shifted in her chair, intentionally putting her knickers on display.

  “Josiah!” As the girl cried his name, she clasped a hand over her heaving bosom. “Oh Josiah... it's so good to see you again! I didn't think you'd return to Gravestone so soon!”

  “Nope. Me neither. But here I am.” Josiah sounded bored, if not a bit vexed.

  “I've missed you!” the young lady exclaimed. “Do you ever think about me when you're out there on the road?”

  Josiah started to shake his head, but he decided against it. As annoyed as he was, he didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings.

  “So... wait,” Carol held up a finger. “Is this the sheriff of Gravestone? She's, uh... she's not what I was expecting.”

  Josiah chortled at the thought. “No. This isn't the sheriff, Miss Cassady. This is the sheriff's daughter, Gwen.”

  “Ahhh!” The lines on Carol's forehead were immediately smoothed. “Okay. That's good to know. She didn't look anything like the badass sheriff I was picturing in my mind.”

  Gwendolyn Montgomery, the sheriff's eighteen-year-old daughter, was Gravestone's most sought-after beauty. She had thick thighs, a slim waist, and incredibly large breasts that were often the first thing people noticed. Next, they noticed her huge emerald eyes, which glowed brightly on her angelic face. There was an adorable smattering of freckles across her nose, and her lips were wide and full. Her hair was brown with a hint of red. Her mother used to say it was “auburn.” A smitten poet once described the color as “cherry chocolate.”

  Josiah's arms crossed as he swaggered closer to the girl's desk. “Where's your father, Gwen? I've got business with him.”

  “But wouldn't you rather see me?” asked a pouting Gwen. “And you never answered my question! Don't you ever think about me? Because I think about you all the time, Josiah Cole. You're always on my mind.”

  “I usually don't think of anything beyond surviving, sweetheart. Now, where's your Pa?”

  “He's... away,” Gwen replied with a sigh. “But if you want to, you can discuss your business with me. I can pass the message to him when he gets back.”

  “Nope. Sorry. I'm only talking to the sheriff about this.”

  Gwen's lips dropped into a frown. She was gutted by Josiah's disinterest in her. “Well... to be honest, he's taking a lunch break. He should be back soon enough, I guess. I'm guarding the jail while he's away.”

  “Uhh...” When Carol spoke up, she thrust a thumb at the empty jail cells. “What are you guarding, exactly? Dust? There's no one here.”

  “My Pa keeps the prisoners in the basement now,” Gwen said, indolently twirling a lock of mahogany hair around her finger. “Including Pat.”

  “Can I see him?” Josiah asked.

  “No. Sorry, Jo. My father wouldn't like that.”

  Josiah leaned against Gwen's desk and used his most disarming smile on her. “You won't even make an exception for me?”

  Gwen's gaze drifted below his belt. When she realized whe
re she was looking, she had to drag her eyes back to his face. “I-I... I'm sorry, Jo. I really shouldn't.”

  “Maybe...” As Josiah leaned closer to Gwen, his voice dropped to a whisper, “Maybe he wouldn't have to know?”

  “I...” Gwen's resolve was slowly crumbled by the brilliant blue eyes of the handsome Josiah Cole.

  “How am I supposed to know Patrick's still alive if I don't get to see him?”

  “O... kay,” Gwen gave in. “But don't tell my father I let you into the basement. If he finds out, he'll never let me--”

  Before Gwen could finish speaking, the door opened, and a tall, rugged man entered the sheriff's office.

  “Well, shit. If it isn't Josiah Cole!” the man exclaimed as he doused his cigarette on the door. “You weren't flirting with my daughter, were you?”

  “No, sir.” Josiah moved away from Gwen's desk, feigning innocence.

  “Good. Because I wouldn't like it if you were.”

  Anton Montgomery, the sheriff of Gravestone, was a tall, bearded, blue-eyed man in his forties. Patches of gray were scattered throughout his otherwise dark hair. His eyes were small and shrewd, and as they studied Josiah, they were especially unfriendly.

  “I've got something for you, sir.” Josiah said. As he reached into this coat, the sheriff's hand moved to the gun at his hip. When Josiah pulled out a jingling brown bag instead of a pistol, Anton's hand relaxed. “It's the money for Patrick's release. All of it.”

  Josiah tossed the bag to Anton, who caught it in midair. As he peered into the bag, the sheriff's lips were dragged into a wicked grin. “So, you finally managed to scrounge it up, huh?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Good boy.” Anton tossed the money on Gwen's desk and demanded, “count it.”

  His daughter opened the bag and let the coins and cash spill across the desk. Everyone was silent as she sifted through it. A few minutes later, she announced, “it's all here.”

  “Ah, but there's only one small problem.” Anton shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You forgot about interest, Josiah Cole.”

  “Interest?” Josiah's brow was furrowed by the word.

  “Yeah. I've been keeping Patrick here for awhile now. Like a bank, you've got to pay interest on that debt.” The room went completely silent again, apart from the soft scratching noise as Anton stroked his beard. “I'd say you owe me another eighty dollars.”

  “That's bullshit!” Josiah suddenly kicked the desk, making Gwen gasp. “This is the first I've heard about any interest! Have you been thinking about this for a while, Sheriff, or did you just pull that one out of your ass?”

  “Hey, fair's fair.” Anton shrugged. “And you can either pay it, or you can join your friend in the cell. It's your choice, Cole.”

  Under his breath, Josiah muttered again, “Bullshit...” When he briefly glanced at Gwen, he thought her eyes looked sympathetic.

  “So, what'll it be?” Sheriff Montgomery asked. “Are you going to pay it, or should I take you down to the basement?”

  “I'll pay it,” Josiah said. “It shouldn't take too long to find another eighty dollars. But do I have your word that Pat will be released the next time I come?”

  “You have my word, son,” Anton said, ignoring the fact that Carol was glaring at him. “Now... I'm gonna ask you to leave before my daughter gets any dumb ideas about you. I think she might be nursing a damn crush on you already, so--”

  “Pa!” gasped a mortified Gwen.

  “I'll go.” As Josiah left, he motioned for Carol to follow. “Come on, Miss Cassady, let's get out of here.”

  Josiah wasn't especially tall, but he moved quickly, so Carol had to sprint. He was already untying his horse by the time she caught up to him.

  “Umm... I have some questions,” Carol spoke up.

  “Alright. Maybe I have some answers.” Josiah tugged his horse away from the hitching post and started down the road.

  “Why do you trust that guy?” Carol hovered at Josiah's side as she asked her question. “He seems seedy to me, especially for a sheriff. I mean... what's to stop him from asking for more money the next time you come? And the next time? And the next time?”

  “He might. But I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I wouldn't if I was you! I kept looking at his smug, stupid face, and he gave me a lot of reason to doubt!” Carol grabbed Josiah's arm, momentarily halting him. “I just don't want to see you get screwed over.”

  “That's awful nice of you, Miss Cassady, but I can look after myself.” He tugged his sleeve from her grip and continued down the road. “Now, was there something else you wanted to ask?”

  “Yeah. It's about Gwen.”

  Josiah rolled his eyes. “What about her?”

  “She wanted you. She wanted you bad. I've never seen a more obvious attraction in my entire life!” Carol exclaimed.

  “So?”

  “So why did you seem so disinterested?” As she followed Josiah down the dusty road, Carol skipped. “She was a gorgeous young woman, and she was practically throwing herself at you! Why not reciprocate? You're not gay, are you?”

  As if to prove his masculinity, Josiah spit on the ground. “Hell no!”

  “Okay then... why didn't you want her? Dare I ask?”

  “Well, for one, she's the sheriff's daughter,” Josiah explained as he mounted his horse.

  “Is there a for two?”

  “Yeah. There's another reason.” Josiah offered her a hand. When Carol accepted it, he easily hauled her onto the back of his horse. “I've spent a lot of time in Gravestone, so I've known her since she was a little girl. It'd be too strange.”

  “I dunno. Even so, I think you should just go for it.”

  “Miss Cassady... if I succumbed to every woman who wanted me, I'd never get anything done.” Josiah's back was facing her, so she missed his grin. “And speaking of getting things done, we should head to Santo Feo. Maybe we can meet up with my brother on the road.”

  Sixteen

  To catch his brother on the road to Santo Feo, Josiah rode at top speed as long as his horse's stamina allowed the pace. But his mare was starting to get tired—as were his ears, because Carol talked nonstop.

  “So I have this ex-boyfriend, Kieran McCray,” she rambled. “I really thought I'd landed myself a good guy. He was strong, funny, clever, and he knew how to please a lady. Basically, he was everything I could ever want... and then he got drunk and cheated on me with a prostitute in Bordeaux. It really broke my heart, you know. I always thought he'd find me and beg for forgiveness, but the next time I saw him, he'd hooked up with someone else. Oh well. Wherever he is, I hope he's behaving himself.”

  “Did I need to know this?” Josiah lethargically mumbled.

  “Well, no. I just thought you might be curious about my romantic history.”

  “Not really.”

  Carol ignored him and continued, as she always did, “I think I'm going to have a difficult time trusting men again. When you expect someone to be faithful and then they succumb to temptation that easily, it really hurts! And don't even try to blame it on all the whiskey he was drinking. Sure, alcohol can lead to poor judgment, but he still made a mistake. Anyway, Kieran was the last guy I dated, so I haven't had a boyfriend in over a year. Isn't that depressing?”

  “Heartbreaking,” Josiah followed his answer with a sigh, which sounded more irritated than sympathetic. “Why are you telling me all of this? Are you expecting me to do something about it?” He slowed his horse to a trot, and eventually to a halt.

  “Oh heck no!” Carol snorted with laughter. “Did you think I was asking you to be my boyfriend or something? Yeah... no. I wouldn't date you. To begin with, you're kind of rude. I guess you're kinda cute, but as far as looks go, I feel like you're a little overrated.”

  “Is that so?” Josiah hopped down from his horse and offered a hand to Carol. She often struggled to climb down, and even though she was insulting him, he didn't want to see her fall on her
face.

  “Well, yeah!” Carol held Josiah's hand as she slipped from the saddle. “Don't get me wrong, you're not a bad-looking guy, but according to you, girls are swooning for you everywhere you go. You make it sound like you're tripping on ladies' underpants when you walk down the street. I don't think anyone deserves that much attention.”

  Josiah scratched his chin. “Especially not a guy who gets a six-point-five out of ten on Carol's scale, huh?”

  “Ehh... maybe I'd give you a seven now.”

  “I'm really moving up in the world.”

  “I know, right?” Carol gave him a congratulatory pat on the back, but if the scowl between his eyes was any indication, he didn't appreciate it. “So, by the way... why are we stopping?”

  “I needed to give my horse a rest.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Carol watched him slip an apple from his bag and peel away its skin. When he was done, he cut it into wedges. He fed the first wedge to his horse, while the second wedge went into his own mouth. For some reason, she found it fascinating. “Does Carol get a piece?” she asked with a pout.

  Without a word, Josiah cut another wedge and stuck it through Carol's lips.

  “Mmm. Thanks. It's good,” she said as she chewed. “It might be a little on the mushy side, but still good.”

  “So... Carol...” Josiah decided to tackle a new topic as he continued to feed his horse. “You want to be taken seriously as a cowboy, right?”

  “Cowgirl,” she corrected him. “But yeah. That's the dream.”

  “Well then, for starters, you need to do something about those clothes you wear,” Josiah said. “You want to be unique. You want to stand out. I get that. But no one's going to take you seriously when you're wearing a vest with a bird on the back of it.”

  “No?”

  Josiah shook his head. “Basically, if you want to keep traveling with me, we're going to have to do something about these crazy clothes you wear.”

  “Awww! But I like my clothes. Nicky liked them!”

  “Well, Nicky's a... a rare kind of guy. The fact that he liked them should tell you something.” When the last wedge was cut from the apple, Josiah pitched the core over his shoulder. “Just humor me. Will you wear my coat?” He was already shrugging it off, as if he had already decided for her.