“What about school?” Mabel asked, moving in front of Mikey to stand next to Samuel. “He’s clearly intelligent.”
“That boy’s no good. He’ll never amount to anything. Least I’m keeping him out of trouble by putting him to work.”
“Are you aware that someone’s been beating him?”
Howard’s indolent shrug infuriated Mabel.
“Someone’s got to keep the boy in line. You want to do it?”
Maybe I do. But she kept her mouth shut. There was no point in arguing with a man who would treat his nephew so badly. She had to find a way to protect the boy. She looked at Samuel.
Samuel sighed. “You said the boy stole money from you. And the gun.”
“That’s right. Near fifteen dollars.”
“In that case, I’m going to have to arrest him.”
Arrest? A child who was clearly being abused? But Mabel’s outrage lasted only a moment. Mikey would be much safer in a jail cell than in his uncle’s custody, she realized.
“Give your uncle his gun back, son. And whatever money you have left as well.”
Howard grabbed Mikey by the back of his shirt and took the gun from his pocket and a fist full of cash from the other pocket, then tossed the boy to the ground. “Maybe a night in the jailhouse will teach the little robber to stop stealing. Especially from those people kind enough to put a roof over his idiot head.”
Mabel swore to herself right then and there, she would see this boy out from under his uncle’s influence.
“And then there’s the matter of the duel,” Samuel said through gritted teeth. “That’s illegal here.”
“If you want to give the boy a few lashes, I won’t object. Saloon down that way?”
Mabel took Samuel’s hand and squeezed it tight. He looked at her and she gave him the slightest of nods. She knew without a doubt that he felt exactly the same way she did about protecting the boy.
They waited until Howard disappeared into the saloon before escorting Mikey inside the solid brick building that was the sheriff’s office. But when Samuel began to usher the boy into a cell, Mabel couldn’t help herself.
“Is that really necessary? He could stay with us.”
Samuel’s eyebrows went up. “If I don’t lock him up, I have to release him to his uncle. That’s the law.”
She couldn’t argue with that. And the cell wasn’t terrible, she had to admit. It was clean. It had a cot. There weren’t any other prisoners in the nearby cells, either. No one to bother the boy.
She sighed as the door of Mikey’s cell clanged shut. Samuel locked it and hung the key on a peg on the wall.
“Mikey,” she began, “you don’t really want to hurt Deputy Cruz, now do you?”
The boy’s expression was grim.
“It was hard after he killed Pa, but now that Ma’s gone…” His lower lip quivered for just a moment. “…living with my uncle, it ain’t worth it. If I don’t kill the deputy then he’ll kill me, either way it’ll be over.”
Mabel’s heart ached, and she looked at Samuel. “Talk to him, tell him how sorry you are.”
Samuel looked stricken. She couldn’t imagine how awful he must feel to know he was the cause of the boy’s suffering.
He cleared his throat. “Mikey, if giving up my life would bring your pa back, I’d gladly do it, but it won’t, son. You’re young and have a lot to live for. A risky duel with a grown man who has a lot of practice shooting isn’t something you should even think about getting into.”
“I ain’t going to spend the rest of my life working in a factory,” the boy replied.
Maybe the boy needed some thinking time. Mabel laid one hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “They probably sell lemon drops at the mercantile, don’t they?”
Samuel didn’t even blink at the change of subject. “Why, I believe they do.”
“Do you have time to show me the way?” she asked.
Samuel glanced at Mikey. “One of the other deputies will bring you lunch soon.”
“I’m not giving up,” Mikey said. “I swore a vow to my Ma before she died, and I intend to keep it.”
“I can see that you’re a person of honor, son. I respect that.” Samuel took Mabel’s hand and led here out the door. Only after he’d shut the door behind him did he speak.
“Mabel, you have to believe me, I didn’t want to do it. I had no choice.”
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about shooting the boy’s father or locking him up. But it didn’t matter. Samuel was a good man with a strong conscience. “I believe you.”
The relief that washed over his face was almost as intense as his frustration had been earlier. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend our wedding day. I was thinking dinner. A quiet evening of getting to know each other better.”
“We don’t get to choose what God sends our way. All we can do is choose between right and right. We have to get that boy away from his uncle.”
“His uncle’s kin. We don’t have the legal right to interfere.”
“His uncle has no interest in Mikey beyond what the boy was making at his factory job. What if we pay him to relinquish his rights over the boy?”
“Mikey himself says he has no other family to raise him. And he’s too young to live on his own.”
“Of course he can’t live on his own,” Mabel replied. “That’s why we have to adopt him.”
“Um.” Samuel looked like he was thinking hard about what he would say. “You do remember that the boy’s sworn to kill me?”
“He’ll come around.”
Samuel look at her incredulously, but he didn’t disagree.
“You’re very understanding, Mabel.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “It looks like I choose the right lady to be my wife.”
Mabel blushed and ducked her head. Samuel took her chin in his hand and placed a kiss on her forehead. She giggled. “How about those lemon drops?”
It turned out that the mercantile was well-stock with goodies. Mabel’s mouth watered as she examined the row of candy jars. Horehound candies, gumdrops, lavender pastilles, and caramels. The lemon drop jar nestled between the butterscotches and the rock candy.
Mabel grinned. She didn’t want to spoil Mikey, but she was already looking forward to seeing his face light up. It was clear that he’d had far too few treats in his life.
After the cashier rung them out, Samuel tried to hand Mabel the bag.
She refused. “I want you to give Mikey the candy.”
Samuel sighed. “A couple of lemon drops aren’t going to make the boy forget I shot his father.”
“No, but they are going to show him that you’re a man with honest intentions who doesn’t hold a grudge. Don’t you think he could use a positive example or two?”
He smiled a little sadly at her. “You’re a good woman, Mabel.”
“No more than you and Mikey deserve.”
Once they were in the jail again, Mabel hung back and watched Samuel pass the bag through the bars of the cage. Mikey took the bag hesitantly, looked inside, closed it again. Frowned, like he was trying to decide whether he should accept a gift that he clearly wanted.
A tall, dark-haired man with sharp features strode in. Light streaming in through the dusty window glinted off the badge pinned to his vest. Sheriff, it said. Mabel remembered Samuel describing the man as completely dedicated to his job. Ethan, she thought his name was. Ethan Phillips.
Sheriff Phillips looked at Mikey, then turned to Samuel. “Why is there a little boy locked up in my jail?”
Mikey stood up and grabbed the bars of the cell, his face red with anger. “I ain’t no little boy! I’m thirteen and I’ve taken up a man’s responsibilities.”
The sheriff didn’t answer Mikey’s outburst, he just raised an eyebrow and waited for Samuel to respond.
Samuel looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Long time ago, the boy’s father drew on me and I shot him. The boy’s come to challenge me to a duel.”
The sheriff blinked. Then he turned to Mikey. “Dueling is illegal in my town. You’ll need to settle your differences with Deputy Cruz another way.”
“I ain’t afraid to die,” the boy said fiercely.
“Most people aren’t,” Phillips replied. “Most people are afraid to live.”
Then he returned his attention to Samuel. “Outside, now.”
Once the men had left, Mabel pulled a chair over from one of the desks and sat by Mikey’s cell. “Let’s say you manage to kill my husband-to-be. Then what?”
Mikey set the bag of candy down on his cot like it was a precious thing, then leaned against the bars of his cell with arms crossed. Trying to be a tough guy. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. I’ll be a widow. You’ll still be your uncle’s ward.”
The boy shrugged. “So?”
“So, what if there was another option?”
“I told you, I ain’t got no other family.”
“Do you want one?”
The boy shrugged again, but the hope in his expression at her question told her that he did.
“Think about it Mikey. There’s always a third option. We just need to figure it out.”
And she would, she promised herself as she headed out to find Samuel. She’d start by having words with Mikey’s uncle.
Jean Jones made her way back to the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a deck of cards in the other. She hated serving drunk, rowdy men here in the saloon, and she hated serving them upstairs even more. But she’d only been twelve when Madame Dominique had bought her from the orphanage. The Madame made sure none of the girls earned enough to buy their way out of service. Then she tossed them into the streets when their looks started to go. At seventeen, Jean knew she only had a few years left before the Madame replaced her with a younger girl.
So Jean continued to deliver whiskey and cards to men who felt like they owned her just because they had a couple of dollars in their pockets.
One of the men at the table had smacked her on the behind earlier, then introduced himself as Howard Stevens. His manner had suggested that she was supposed to recognize him by reputation. The other two were strangers as well, and they looked like card sharps.
Men like that never tipped. Or if they did, they expected something extra for it.
Jean placed the cards on the table and the glass of whiskey in front of Howard. “Here you are, sir.”
A lustful smile stretched his face as he reached out and grabbed her, placing her solidly on his lap. “Don’t be shy, girl.”
“I’m working, sir,” she said, suppressing a shudder of revulsion as she tried to stand up.
But he held her fast, one large hand on her waist. “Stick around, I’ll be purchasing your services later.”
Jean’s stomach tensed up, but she kept her expression neutral. She’d learned from experience that showing her feelings often meant the customers would ask for her anyway, and then treat her worse than they would’ve otherwise.
“You’ll have to take that up with the Madame, sir.” She tried to stand again, and this time he let her. Soon as she got her feet under her, she hurried back to the bar.
Howard was loud and obnoxious. He hollered, “Keep your hands off this one fellas. She’s mine tonight!”
Loud cheers and hoots filled the room. As the evening progresses, she kept one eye on the man, noticing that he made ugly remarks to the other men at his table and tossed cards down angrily when he didn’t win. Lovely. She was torn between being glad he was losing and hoping he’d win. He was a rat. But she’d bear the brunt of his anger later that night if his losses were too big.
Unless he lost everything and couldn’t afford her.
Please, Lord. Let him lose.
Chapter 3
Birds chirped outside her window, awakening Mabel to a strange room. Faded blue walls and ceiling, small table near the bed and a dresser at the other end of the room. Her trunk sat next to the dresser.
Boarding house. Wedding day. Samuel. It all came flooding back to her.
She couldn’t help wondering how Samuel had slept. Or if he was thinking about her right now.
Or if he was as nervous as she was.
Mabel took care to secure her long blonde curls into a neat bun at the crown of her head with a multitude of pins—it never quite stayed where she wanted it. After donning her nicest dress, she slipped her small feet into a pair of white lace-up boots and pinned her grandmother’s brooch to the neck of her dress. The brooch had been one of the few pieces of jewelry she’d been able to keep when the bill collectors had finally come to her family’s home—and only because it had been cheap paste. But Mabel loved it, because she remembered her grandmother wearing it. Grandmother, who always had time to read her stories and take her for walks when Mabel’s parents were screaming at each other.
Mabel missed her the most. She closed her eyes and brushed the brooch with her fingertips as she imagined that her grandmother was here, fussing over her dress, tucking back a strand of hair that Mabel had missed, hurrying her to the church.
She wiped away the tear and hurried herself out the door.
Samuel waited for her in the boardinghouse parlor. He wore what looked like a new black suit and shoes. A smile ran clean across his freshly shaven face. He took her breath away.
“You are so beautiful,” he said as he took her arm in his.
Pink stained her cheeks at his comment and she found herself feeling shy, but she pushed it all back and said, “That’s kind of you to say, Samuel.”
He pinned a pale blue flower to her dress, his deep brown eyes seeming even darker as he gazed down at her. “It’s not nearly as beautiful as those blue eyes of yours, but it’ll give you something to press in your Bible, to commemorate this day.”
Mabel’s heart was pounding. The Samuel of her letters was thoughtful and reasonable. The Samuel she’d seen yesterday as he handled Mikey’s challenge was kind and a little bit tortured. But this Samuel, the way he looked at her…she wondered if she’d spend the rest of her life with him holding her breath and waiting to see what he’d do next. “Th-th-thank you, that’s so sweet.”
As he walked her to the church, she saw the town of Resurrection with new eyes. Everything seemed sharper. More vivid. More real. She was here and she was about to marry Samuel, and this would be her home for the rest of her life.
The sheriff’s office was only a little ways down the busy street. Mikey would still be there—had he been frightened in his jail cell? Did he stay up all night eating the candy they’d brought him?
Mabel whispered to Samuel, “Can we pop in and see how he is first?”
Samuel didn’t ask who she meant, he merely nodded and changed course.
Mabel’s eyes landed on the small boy and her heart sank to see him slumped forward on the edge of his cot. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved a good home and parents who took care of him.
She forced herself to smile. “Good morning, Mikey.”
He got off the cot and stood by the barred door.
“You look pretty, Miss Mabel.” He swallowed hard. “Almost as pretty as my Ma was.”
“I’m sure your Ma was twice as pretty as me,” Mabel replied. “Do you need anything?”
The boy broke into a grin. “I still have most of the candy. Been eating it slowly.”
“Mikey, today I’m going to be making a decision that’s going to affect the rest of my life. Soon you’re going to be making a decision like that too.”
His lips firmed up into a tight line. “A man’s only as good as his word. My Ma used to say that.”
“Wise men learn from other people’s mistakes, but a fool learns from his own. My mother used to say that.”
The boy looked away.
“One of the other deputies will bring you breakfast,” Samuel interrupted. “Mabel, the minister is waiting for us.”
The jail door slammed open, revealing Sheriff Phillips, with the boy’s uncle o
n his heels.
“I’ll take the boy now,” Howard said imperiously.
Even from across the room, Mabel could smell the whisky the man had no doubt been drinking since the night before. His eyes were red and his clothes were wrinkled.
Mabel wouldn’t have trusted him to take care of a cactus, let alone a thirteen-year-old boy who was grieving for his mother.
But Samuel removed a key ring from his desk and, with obvious reluctance, opened Mikey’s jail cell.
The boy was set free he went straight to Mabel. “Good luck with you marriage.”
Then he looked at his uncle and hesitated.
“Come here, boy,” Howard said grumpily. “You’re in a heap of trouble.”
She couldn’t let it end like this.
She placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Mr. Stevens, Samuel and I would very much appreciate it if you would allow Mikey to attend church with us this morning and attend our wedding and reception.”
Samuel took her hand in his and added, “After what I’ve cost the boy, I’d like the chance to apologize for all I’ve taken from him, if you don’t mind.”
Howard narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
“I am, sir.” A woman’s voice came from the open doorway. As Howard turned, Mabel caught a glimpse of Jean, the saloon girl she’d invited to attend church. She wore a cheap but respectable cotton dress that covered her from chin to toes, and a yellow bonnet that didn’t match the blue of her dress at all. Probably borrowed. She’d gone to a great deal of trouble to make herself presentable.
It warmed Mabel’s heart.
At the same time, she couldn’t believe the girl was offering herself to Howard to protect Mikey. Another sign that she’d been right to invite Jean to church. Mabel resolved to do whatever she could to help the saloon girl back to the straight and narrow.
“I’ll return to my shift at the saloon in a few hours,” Jean continued.
“Really?” Howard asked. “You look as if you’re about to attend church. Is that a thing they allow in this town? Are whores allowed in God’s house?”
Poor Jean looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Samuel's Secret (Mail-Order Brides of Resurrection 1) Page 2
