RNWMP_Bride for Michael

by Amelia C. Adams

  “I’m not educated formally, but I was blessed to work in several large houses with expansive libraries, and in some of those houses, I was permitted to read the books as long as I took excellent care of them and didn’t remove them from the room. I read everything I could get my hands on, from philosophy to geography to world religions.”

  Michael whistled. “You’re likely better educated than I am, then. They don’t teach some of those things at the academy.”

  “Maybe that’s for the best. We wouldn’t want me to bore you, would we?”

  He turned and looked at her again. “That’s not possible, Kathryn. Not in any way.”

  The tone in his voice sent shivers down her arms. Was this what it was like to fall in love? She knew she was attracted to him and that she enjoyed spending time with him, but she could probably say that about any number of handsome men. There was something about Michael, though, that seemed to go beyond any of those things. When she looked at him, she could picture sitting across from him at a breakfast table or going on Sunday afternoon strolls pushing a baby carriage. She’d never anticipated feeling such a sense of permanence with someone, such a sense of belonging to someone and with someone.

  “I think I’d like to go back inside,” she said, suddenly feeling worn out. They’d spent far longer under these trees than she’d first planned, and she wondered if that had been a mistake.

  “Of course.” He stood and held out his hand. When she took it, she looked up into his eyes and became lost in them. He slid his arm around her waist, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.

  She’d heard stories about first kisses, how wonderful and tingly and amazing they were. She’d always smiled and nodded, not believing any of it. In thinking about it, kissing was a rather odd custom. What could be so wonderful about pressing two mouths together? And who thought of it in the first place? Surely the person they practiced on thought they were deranged. All these thoughts disappeared, though, as she reached up and wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck. Whoever invented kissing must have been a genius.

  When Michael ended the kiss, he smiled into her eyes. “What do you think, Kathryn? Will you marry me as soon as you’re well?”

  “Yes,” she replied, a bit breathless. “But only if we can discuss calculus often.”

  “Guaranteed. I’ll stop by the church and make the arrangements. Do you think a few days would be all right?”

  “I think that would be perfect.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, and she wouldn’t have minded at all. Instead, though, he picked up the chair in one hand, held her elbow with the other, and escorted her back to the house, making sure she didn’t stumble along the way. Now her knees really were weak, and she wasn’t sure if it was the illness or the kiss. At that point, it could have been either.

  Michael escorted her back inside, and she sank gratefully onto the chair near the window again. She looked around and saw that Nettie had set some of her few things here and there on the mantel or a shelf, and the place was starting to look like a combination of both her and Michael. The thought made her smile.

  When Nettie came in a short time later, Michael took his leave, saying that he needed to get some rest before his next shift. He brushed a light kiss across Kathryn’s forehead before pulling the door shut behind him.

  When Kathryn turned to look at Nettie, she couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d found an old sheet in the cupboard, and after a little bit of experimentation, she’d come up with a pattern for a somewhat cute bonnet. Now each of the girls had a Rocky-proof hat of their own, something they could wear to protect their heads, and their nicer hats wouldn’t have to be sacrificed to the cause. Nettie was taking hers off and hanging it on a hook by the front door. Apparently, it had worked.

  “Things are going well?” Nettie asked as she began to pull things from the cupboard for supper.

  “Very well. He asked me to marry him.”

  Nettie turned and gave Kathryn a quizzical look. “Aren’t you already planning to get married?”

  “Yes, but it was nice to get an actual proposal. It was romantic.”

  Nettie grinned. “Romantic things can be fun.”

  “They can. And since you’ve decided not to run back to Ottawa right away, you can stay until our wedding, can’t you? We’ve decided to hold it in a few days, and I really can’t imagine it without you.”

  “I think that can be arranged.” Nettie smiled again. “Now, what do you think? Can you manage anything more than broth? We do have some—Mrs. White brought more—but there’s also some bread and some milk that might work for you.”

  “That actually sounds good, believe it or not.” Kathryn couldn’t wait until she’d finished healing. She kept having visions of roast beef and fried chicken and breaded veal, but as soon as she’d have one of those thoughts, her stomach would turn sour, and she knew it wasn’t time yet. Bread and milk, on the other hand, was a definite possibility, and she found herself looking forward to it, which made her laugh. Funny how going through something like this would change her perspective and make even the simplest food seem like a feast.

  Chapter Six

  Michael picked up his mail from Old Joe at the general store and flipped through it. There wasn’t much—just a few odds and ends and a letter from his younger sister, Sarah. He tossed the things he didn’t need into the stove at the Mountie station, then sat down at the desk to read the letter.

  Dear Michael,

  Thank you for your letter. I’m glad to hear that you’re still doing well on PEI. However, I was quite startled to read that you’ve sent for a mail-order bride. In fact, it has taken me several days to compose this letter because I’ve struggled to know what to say.

  Mother’s dearest wish was to see all her children married and happy. She passed before seeing that happen for the two of us, but she believed you’d found your potential bride, and that idea pleased her very much. You know how much she always loved Rebecca Farley, and considered her to be the perfect match for you. Rebecca always thought the same, and it was only your determination to become a Mountie that eased her pain when you left. She understood that Mounties live solitary lives.

  But now you’ve chosen to go against conventional wisdom and get married, but instead of sending for Rebecca, a girl you’ve known your whole life, a girl who would love you and take care of you and be a blessing to you, you’ve sent for a perfect stranger from who knows where? Michael, I don’t understand. You are guaranteed a loving, committed wife in Rebecca, but it seems that you’d rather take a huge gamble and tie your fate to someone chosen for you . . . by someone who’s never met you!

  Since I received your letter, I’ve had many sleepless nights trying to puzzle this out. Is there something wrong with Rebecca that none of us noticed but you? We all thought you were quite smitten with her—you certainly showed her enough attention the winter before you left to give that impression, and that’s what you made her believe too. I don’t understand how my own brother could play with someone’s emotions like that. That’s certainly not the kind of behavior I expect from you.

  I really can’t decide what’s worse—the fact that you led her to believe you were interested in her, or the fact that you’re going against Mother’s dying wishes. Both have left me speechless. I thought Mounties were men of honor. I thought the Hadderly men were as well. This has disappointed me in so many ways, I find it hard to write them all down.

  I hope I’ve sent this letter in enough time for you to come to your senses, send for Rebecca, and make things right. If I delayed too long and you’re now married to whatever girl was chosen for you out of the long list of potentials, I have myself to blame for the timing, but you are still responsible for the outcome.

  Michael, I know I’ve been harsh in my words, but please understand that it’s because of my love for you. We have always been close, you and I, and your happiness is important to me. Rebecca would make you happy. It would be
her entire focus. You know that about her, how devoted she is to you. Please, brother. I’m begging you to make the right decision.

  Sarah

  Michael sat back in his chair, feeling as though he’d been punched in the stomach. Sarah had never spoken to him so sharply before, and he supposed he deserved it. There was so much she didn’t understand, though—so many details she was unaware of. He would write back to her, and soon, but just as she had needed time to formulate her words, he needed time to formulate his. He wanted her to understand his position, and to know that he hadn’t purposely set out to hurt anyone. In fact, it was the furthest thing from his mind, and what he’d been trying to avoid since the beginning.

  He tucked her letter away, deciding that he’d write out an answer the next day. For the time being, he had work to do, and it was piling up again. He sighed. Every incident required a report, whether it was a missing hammer or a squabble between neighbors. If the Mounties were called, the Mounties had paperwork. Such was life. He couldn’t wait until the next rotation, when he’d be out on patrol again and someone else would be stuck here at the office writing endlessly.

  Aaron had found a scrap of paper that pointed to Jamie MacDonald as Timothy’s killer, and the other Mounties would be staking out the MacDonald property that night to try to apprehend him. Michael chafed at being left behind at the office, but it was his turn, after all.

  He finished all the reports that had been left for him to do, then grabbed a broom and swept the floor. He felt antsy, wishing he knew what the other Mounties were doing, and wishing he could talk to his sister. Most of all, he wished he was visiting with Kathryn at that moment. She had a way of calming him that he knew would be a great help to him throughout their married lives together—his profession definitely created that need.

  After tidying up the station as best as he could, he flopped back into his chair. He had just decided to succumb to his interminable boredom and doze off when the door banged open and in came the other men, leading a restrained Jamie MacDonald between them.

  Michael came to his feet. “You got him. Anyone hurt in the process?”

  “No,” Aaron replied. “Just Angus MacDonald’s pride.”

  Ernie grabbed a chair and told Jamie to sit on it. Then he leaned against his desk. “So, Jamie. We’ve arrested you for the murder of our commander. Now we’d like to hear everything you have to say, from the beginning.”

  Jamie looked around, his eyes wide. “When my pa—”

  “Your pa’s not coming. No one is. You’re in our custody now, and I think it’s best you start talking.”

  Jamie licked his lips and pulled in a deep breath. Michael almost felt sorry for him. As the youngest of the MacDonald clan, he was not only the darling of the family, but the one where most of the fault fell when it came right down to it. It was a confusing position to be in, Michael was sure. But Jamie had made the choices he had—no one could force you to break the law if you felt strongly about it.

  “It was that night, you know, the night we had the fight at the saloon.”

  That could mean any number of nights, really, but Michael didn’t point that out. They all knew which night he meant.

  “I was sitting here in the jail, and I still had some whiskey in me, and I started talking. I said some things I shouldn’t have said. It was the whiskey, I swear.” Tears started rolling down Jamie’s cheeks.

  Ernie nodded. “Whiskey can have that effect. Then what?”

  “Well, that other fellow, he talked to the commander and they made a deal. He’d tell the commander everything I said in exchange for being let go. The commander liked that idea, so he took a statement and wrote it all down, and that fellow went free.” Jamie brought his right forearm to his face to wipe at his tears.

  Michael leaned forward to hear better.

  “Do you have any idea where that man went?” Ernie asked.

  “No. He just lit out of here. Can’t blame him.” Jamie licked his lips again. “Could I get some water?”

  “Sure, sure.” Ernie nodded at Michael, who fetched a drink and carried it over to their prisoner. He held it to Jamie’s mouth.

  “Can’t I even hold my own cup?” Jamie whined.

  “Not setting you loose even for that,” Ernie replied.

  Once Jamie had his fill, Michael took the cup away.

  “Go on, Jamie,” Ernie prodded.

  “Well, the commander brought me out here and had me sit down, and he started asking me some questions about what the other man said. I knew I couldn’t let that get out, so . . .” He swallowed. “I slit his throat, stole the paper, and burned it.”

  “How did you get a weapon?” Michael asked, forgetting his place for a moment.

  Jamie smiled unpleasantly. “Maybe us MacDonalds know a thing or two that you Mounties don’t.”

  “What I know is that you just confessed to murdering an officer of the law, and that you’ve hinted at other illegal activity as well,” Ernie said. “Would you care to make a total clean breast of it and tell us about that too?”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Jamie said, lifting his chin. “I’ve said all I’m gonna say.”

  “So, you’re taking responsibility for your own crime, but not saying anything that could implicate your family,” Aaron said, musing.

  “If you knew my family better, you’d understand,” Jamie replied. Michael noticed that the times when their prisoner looked the most afraid, it was when his family had been brought up in some way. They had a hold on him that superseded even the law.

  “We’ll be getting to know your family quite a lot better,” Ernie said, standing up. “We’re not letting this rest until we have all the answers. Into the cell.”

  Jamie seemed to have given up his fight as he walked behind the bars and sat down on the cot in the corner. Bryce closed the door to the cell and rattled it to make sure it was secure.

  “Bryce, I’ll have you transport this man to Charlottetown once we’re done processing him here,” Ernie said.

  Bryce gave a nod. “Happy to.”

  ***

  As the morning wore on, each of the Mounties tried again to get Jamie to talk about his other illegal activities, but he wouldn’t let up. Aaron asked to step away so he could go speak with Elizabeth. Apparently, her brother-in-law, a man named Charles, had shown up the day before and caused some trouble, and Aaron wanted to get things ironed out with her.

  He came back fairly soon, though, without saying much, and the other three Mounties looked at each other in confusion. Finally, Bryce asked why he’d come back. Seemed to all of them that Aaron would be spending some time with his bride, making sure everything was all right.

  When Aaron replied that she wasn’t home and had likely chosen to go back home with her brother-in-law, Ernie shook his head and called foul. She wouldn’t leave like that—none of the men believed it, Michael included. He didn’t know her well, but what he did know, he trusted, and he’d also seen the way she looked at his friend. There was no way that a woman who looked at a man like that would simply leave him. Something didn’t feel right.

  Ernie walked over to the window and looked out. “There they are,” he said, and the other Mounties craned to look as well. Charles was boosting Elizabeth into a wagon, but she didn’t look eager to be climbing aboard. In fact, Michael thought he saw her slapping at him.

  “I’m an idiot,” Aaron said, leaping out of his chair and heading toward the door. “Something’s definitely wrong.”

  Ernie and Bryce followed on his heels, and Michael took a minute to check the cell and make sure it was secure before following. The last thing they needed was for Jamie to break loose while they were distracted by something else.

  Aaron leaped onto the back of his horse. Ernie and Bryce mounted theirs as well. Michael hadn’t prepared his because he didn’t have anywhere to go, so after a split second of thought, he clambered up behind Ernie, and they all chased after the wagon, Aaron in the lead.

  They caught up
to the wagon at the edge of town. Michael saw Aaron call out to the driver. The man put his arm around Elizabeth’s back, but it didn’t look at all friendly. Then Michael saw the glint of metal in Charles’s hand. Elizabeth was being abducted.

  Michael glanced at Ernie and Bryce and saw that they’d noticed it too. They nodded at each other, and Ernie guided his horse into the trees. The other two Mounties took up positions as well, waiting for some sort of signal from Aaron.

  Michael slid off Ernie’s horse and pulled out his pistol, holding at the ready. Aaron was trying to talk Charles down, but it seemed they were equally matched in stubbornness. Charles didn’t seem to realize that he was surrounded, which would definitely play in the Mounties’ favor.

  Just as Michael was getting ready to edge even closer, he heard a rustling in the trees, and he looked up to see Rocky flinging himself from one of the trees and flying overhead. He let loose one of his presents, which fell right into Charles’s eyes. Michael had never seen anything so funny in his life as Charles yelling and swiping at his face. Aaron took advantage of the moment to disarm him, and Elizabeth jumped down from the wagon. Within minutes, Charles was handcuffed, Elizabeth was on the back of Aaron’s horse, and Charles’s wagon was being led back to town. Michael grinned. They really should deputize that squirrel.

  ***

  Kathryn clung to Michael’s arm as he guided the buggy around a curve in the road. He wasn’t driving dangerously—she just liked the feel of his arm beneath her fingers, and the way the moonlight shone down through the trees made the evening magical. At the moment, though, she wasn’t thinking about the magic. Michael had been telling her about the events of that afternoon. “Oh, my goodness. Is Elizabeth all right?”

  “She’s fine, but a bit shaken up. She’s still laughing at the role Rocky played in coming to her rescue.”

  Kathryn chuckled. While Michael had been telling the story, she could almost see the whole thing in her mind’s eye. “That nuisance is actually turning out to be quite the helper. Didn’t he also bring that scrap of paper to Aaron, the one that led to Jamie’s arrest?”