Adam shook his head. “Ma and Pa’s place is all right. I was going to check the roof for any damage, but I don’t see anything laying around. I think it missed us completely.”
“Do you need any help?” Trey offered.
“No, thanks for coming by. Go on home and help your folks. If they need my help, let me know.”
The two young men shook hands and Trey mounted and headed towards home.
“He’s a nice young man. I like everyone I’ve met in town so far except maybe for that new saloon owner. He seems a bit, let’s say, untrustworthy. His former wife seems pleasant. It’s hard to believe she’s going to open up one of those places,” she turned her head away knowing her cheeks were heating from the thought of a brothel.
“I imagine she needs to be pleasant to attract customers. I want to tell you that I will never be one of them. I promised to take all my vows seriously,” Adam said as they strolled back to the house.
Becca stopped and looked into his eyes, “I didn’t bring that up to say or think that you’d ever, oh you know. I know you’d never…”
He stopped her with a kiss. “You’re right, I never will. Now, let’s check out the house.”
An hour later, Adam came into the house to find Becca making tea and setting bread and sliced ham on the table. “I thought you might be hungry and it’s still a few hours before we head back to your folk’s place for supper.”
“That I am. I take it you didn’t find any leaks in the house because the roof looks sound to me. The barn roof didn’t sustain any damage either.”
“That’s good,” Becca answered and poured tea into two mugs on the table. “I checked the walls and ceilings, and everything is dry. We were truly blessed today.”
“That we were. The Lord will always watch over us, Becca.”
“I know, and that gives me hope even when things are frightening,” she said before taking a sip of tea. “Do you have any more ideas about the wedding? Anything you’d like to add? I think your mother has it all planned, but if there’s something else, we can do it.”
“All I can think of is getting on a train tomorrow morning, heading to Prairieville, and finding the preacher. We wouldn’t have to wait another week,” he winked at Becca.
She blushed and then gasped at the thought of doing what he said. “Do you know what your mother would do if we ran away? She’s making all sorts of plans and can’t wait for your sister to arrive.”
“That’s right. She should be here by the middle of next week. You’ll like Elise. She’s a younger version of Ma. My nephew and niece are cute, but they can keep you busy. Her husband is a decent man who puts up with her,” he laughed. “You’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will. Your mother is a dear, and I love her already,” Becca shared. “She made me feel a part of the family from the day I arrived. Winifred, too.”
“That sounds like Ma. Do you have plans for tomorrow? I need to get some things done here. I don’t know if I’ll make it over to Ma’s at all,” Adam explained.
“Winifred and I wanted to go to the mercantile and buy a few things. If you don’t mind, I’d like to return on Monday and hang the curtains. It would be nice to get that finished before we get busy with your sister’s arrival.”
“I don’t mind. You come here anytime you want. If you are buying things for the house, just put them on my account at the mercantile,” Adam offered.
“Oh no, I have money.”
“If it’s for the house, it’s my responsibility. Actually, I’d prefer to pay for everything you need. You’re going to be my wife, remember,” he smiled and bit into his sandwich.
“I remember,” Becca sighed her mind whirling with thoughts of being Adam’s wife.
Chapter Seventeen
The following morning broke bright and sunny with no trace of the previous day’s storm. Becca and Winifred headed for town for Becca’s final dress fitting and to shop for the last minute items Becca needed for the house. They decided to treat themselves to pie and tea at Callahan’s before visiting the dress shop.
Sarah and Molly laughed as they walked down the stairs from Nell’s apartment back to the restaurant. They noticed Becca and Winifred sitting at a table enjoying tea and a slice of Nell’s famous apple pie. Famous, at least in Gentle Falls, and more popular than ever since Nell spent most of her time with her babies and little on the restaurant’s desserts.
Becca waved and invited them to sit with her and Winifred. Just as they settled into chairs the bell above the door jingled and Winifred’s face turned as pale as the white teacup she held.
“Ambrose,” Becca hissed.
“Who?” Molly asked.
“Ambrose Pomeroy. He’s the man Winifred was engaged to before we left Ohio.”
“The one who broke off the engagement two days before the wedding?” Sarah asked.
Becca nodded.
All four women and the rest of the customers stared at the short, stocky man dressed in a black suit more fitting for a funeral than a visit to a small farming town. His bowler sat ridiculously on his large head while small eyes squinted and roamed the room.
He pulled his hat off his balding head and called out. “There you are, Winifred. No sense in trying to hide behind Rebecca. I see you now.”
He strode straight to the table and glared at Winifred who cowered behind her hands hiding her face.
“Get out of here, Ambrose,” Becca insisted rising to her feet. “Winifred does not wish to see you. If you don’t leave now, I will have someone summon the sheriff.”
“Ha,” Ambrose shouted. “The sheriff might be just the person we need. Mother was right about you all along, Winifred. I should have listened to her and stayed home, but I thought I should try to explain.”
Winifred peeked out from between her fingers and cringed, “Your mother hates me. Go away.”
“You know I must marry before I turn forty and you seemed a likely candidate. Mother convinced me you were wrong for me, but it seems I am unable to find another bride. You will have to do, and for some reason, I do find you beguiling,” Ambrose exclaimed loud enough for all the customers to hear.
Winifred, embarrassed but angered, looked up at Ambrose and said, “So you think you can come here and insist I marry you because you will lose your inheritance if you don’t marry before next week. I wouldn’t marry you if you threatened to shoot me. Marrying you means living with your mother and that is something I would not wish on anyone. Go away, Ambrose.”
Ambrose’s eyebrows arched and he took a step closer to the table. “I don’t understand why you are refusing me, Winifred. Look at me and look at you. You are fortunate I would ask a woman like you for your hand. Why Mother says, you should have thanked me for considering you. Mother was right to tell me to break off our engagement, but I suppose she will get used to you. I still find you appealing.”
Winifred considered throwing her teacup at him but took a deep breath instead. She would be a lady at all costs and not allow Ambrose to force her to act in an unruly manner. “Ambrose, go away. Go home. Go anywhere. I will never marry you. Staying unmarried for my entire life is preferable over a life with you.” She lifted her chin and did not break eye contact.
Ambrose threw his hands in the air. “I knew it. Mother was right. There is no way I should be attracted to a woman like you. You must have bewitched me. That must be it. Mother said you were a witch and now I believe her.” Ambrose glanced around the restaurant and saw that every customer had stopped eating to listen to him. A man at the corner table was writing furiously on a small notepad, an old man watched his every move, and women clung to their husband’s arms. This was what he needed. He would embarrass Winifred into marrying him. If he didn’t have a wife in a week, he would lose all his grandfather’s money.
Ambrose turned back to Winifred. “You see, all the people here do not understand why I find someone like you attractive. You will marry me. If not, I will report you. You have stolen my heart. That could
only be done with magic. You are a witch just as mother insists.”
Winifred covered her mouth with her hand trying to stop the fear she felt creeping up her spine. Ambrose was insane. That was the only explanation, and she nearly married him. Her eyes pleaded with him.
“Go home, Ambrose.”
“No, you are coming with me. If not, I will report you to someone in charge of disobedient women, and you will hang, be committed to an asylum, or worse. Mother is quite influential as you know.”
Winifred let out a frightened cry. He was truly insane. She said a prayer of thanks that he broke off their wedding plans. Being married to him frightened her beyond rational thought.
Ambrose took one more step toward her table, and before he could utter another threat, Otis stood. His hand struck out faster than a rattler, and Ambrose Pomeroy lay unconscious on the floor.
“Someone get the sheriff,” Otis suggested and turned to Winifred. “Do not be alarmed, Miss Winifred. That man will never bother you again.”
“You don’t understand. He stands to lose a small fortune and for some reason has decided that I will marry him. We were once engaged. I think worrying about the loss of his inheritance has driven him mad,” Winifred explained hoping Otis would not think she was the type of woman Ambrose insisted she was.
“Not to worry, Miss Winifred. I believe the sheriff will deal with him and perhaps your best course would be to find a husband to offer his protection.” He winked at her before he turned back to assure that Ambrose didn’t move from his spot on the floor.
Winifred blushed, and Molly whispered, “I had a feeling Otis liked you. I think he just flirted with you. Perhaps you and Becca will have a double wedding.”
Winifred blushed a deeper shade of red and breathed a sigh of relief when Sheriff Clay entered the restaurant.
“What’s going on here?” Ben Clay asked. His eyebrows raised when he saw his wife sitting at the table with Sarah, Winifred, and Becca and an unconscious man lying next to their feet.
“I can explain,” Otis said stepping forward.
“No need,” Judge Magarey’s voice announced from across the room. “I saw the entire confrontation. The stranger on the floor is obviously mad or drunk. He threatened Miss Winifred and was babbling about needing to be married and witches. Two weeks in jail will give him ample time to think about respecting women. Otis stepped up and stopped the man before he could harm Miss Winifred.”
“Works for me,” Ben said and hauled Ambrose to his feet. Ambrose had begun to come around and heard the end of Judge Magarey’s statement.
“Wait, wait,” Ambrose begged. “You can’t jail me for two weeks. I need to get home and find a wife since Winifred denied me. It is of the utmost importance. I demand to be released. Do you know who I am? I am Ambrose Pomeroy. I demand you release me at once.”
Ben gripped his arm tighter, and Judge Magarey spoke, “I have no idea who you are. You walk into a quiet establishment and raise a ruckus. You threaten a defenseless woman and spout nonsense. You are fortunate I don’t sentence you to thirty days.”
“Well, I never,” Ambrose sputtered. “I demand to send a telegram to my mother.”
The judge shrugged. “If you have the money, Sheriff Clay will send the telegram after he locks you up.” The judge retreated to his table and sat back down.
Ben pulled Ambrose toward the door, but Ambrose pulled away. “Do something, Winifred,” he shouted. Winifred dropped her head as low as she could without hitting her forehead on the table.
Ben called out to Otis. “Give me a hand getting this guy to the jail, will ya?”
“Certainly,” Otis answered and helped haul an angry Ambrose, who had resorted to using crude language, to jail.
When the door closed, Winifred raised her head and wiped a few tears from her cheeks. “To think I nearly married him. I thought he truly cared about me. He only wanted to use me to gain his inheritance, and I think his mother would have found a way to have me put away somewhere.” She shuddered, and Becca hugged her.
“No need to worry now. You’re safe here, and the people in town will stand by you, and I think Otis is sweet on you,” Becca said causing Winifred to blush again.
“If only I were that fortunate,” she whispered in Becca’s ear.
A few minutes later, Otis returned and approached their table. He took off his hat and addressed Winifred. “Miss Winifred, he’s safely locked behind bars. He’s unable to hurt you. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Perhaps you would accompany me to dinner at the hotel this evening to help take your mind off this difficulty.”
Winifred smiled, “I would love to, but I’m going back to the Greiner ranch this afternoon.”
Sarah spoke up, “You can come home with me, and Otis can pick you up there. We’ll send word to Miranda, so she doesn’t worry. Giles and I have a big home. You and Becca are welcome to spend the night.”
Winifred nodded and smiled.
“Splendid,” Otis said. “I will pick you up at the Bowen’s at six if that is acceptable.”
“Yes, thank you,” Winifred answered.
When Otis left, Sarah suggested, “Come along to my shop. We need to do the last fitting for Becca’s dress, and you need a new dress for this dinner. I have several that will look lovely on you and Molly, and I have time to alter one of it doesn’t fit right. Let’s hurry.” She took Winifred’s hand, and the four women hurried to Sarah’s shop.
~ * ~
Two days later, an elderly woman wearing a dark blue traveling suit, her gray hair pulled tightly into a severe bun under a matching hat with a bright peacock feather fluttering in the breeze stepped off the morning train. She was accompanied by a young woman of no more than seventeen or eighteen and a man wearing a preacher’s collar. They headed straight for the sheriff’s office.
Sheriff Clay was enjoying his second cup of coffee when the woman and her companions barged into the office demanding she see Ambrose immediately.
“I am Hortensia Pomeroy, Mrs. Randolph Pomeroy,” she said to Ben as if it explained it all. “I am here to see my son.”
Ben shrugged and pointed to the cell. “He’s right there asleep.”
“Ambrose,” the woman shrieked. “Get up. I brought your bride.”
“What? Who? Mother?” Ambrose answered. “Who are these people?”
“Shut up and stand. This is Miss Collins and Pastor Wittenberg. He’s here to marry you and Miss Collins.”
Ben noticed the surprised look on Ambrose’s face and the apprehension on Miss Collins’ face but he sat and listened to the pastor marry the couple. Ambrose was old enough to be the young woman’s father, but he had a feeling interrupting them and telling the woman her son couldn’t get married in jail would cause him more trouble than he wanted this early in the morning. When the wedding, if you could call the few words spoken a wedding, was over, Mrs. Pomeroy turned to Ben.
“Thank you, sheriff. Is there somewhere in town we can rest and wait for the next train leaving town heading back toward Ohio?”
“The next train heading East won’t be here until this evening, Ma’am. There is a hotel with a dining room across the street and a bit further down you’ll find Callahan’s Restaurant.” He glanced at the three wondering who was more upset--the woman who didn’t seem to want to wait for a train, the young, bewildered bride, or the pastor who seemed uncomfortable with the situation.
Mrs. Pomeroy sighed, “Very well. We will find a place to wait. Let’s leave,” she addressed the pastor ignoring the young woman.
“Wait,” Ambrose called gripping the cell bars in his hands. “Don’t I get to spend some time with my bride? How can I have a wedding night in jail? You need to get me out, Mother.”
She called over her shoulder, “You caused this Ambrose. You must pay the price. We will see you at home in two weeks. Try not to mess up again.”
Ambrose groaned as he watched his three visitors leave. Ben’s curiosity got the best of him, and he had to as
k. “Who is the young woman.”
Ambrose shook his head. “My wife. The pastor called her Alice. I never saw her before this morning.”
“You married a complete stranger without even knowing her name or anything about her?”
Ambrose shrugged. “I suppose mother knows all about her. We married to save my inheritance. I will find out when I return home,” he grumbled and dropped back on his cot.
“Does that mean you will now leave Miss Winifred alone?”
“Of course. If mother told me I could marry someone as young and pretty as Alice, I never would have come after Winifred. You do realize she’s thirty-eight years old. Alice will make a much better wife.” Ambrose grinned.
Ben fought the desire to land a punch on the man’s face. Instead, he picked up his hat and left the jail. He crossed the street to find Joseph to have him sit with the prisoner while he ate breakfast. Then he’d find his wife. He missed Molly last night when he had to sleep at the jail. Tonight Joseph would take the overnight watch. He couldn’t imagine marrying the way Ambrose had. He loved Molly, and he needed to let her know and tell Winifred that Ambrose wouldn’t bother her again.
Chapter Eighteen
A few hours later after Ben found his wife hard at work at Sarah’s Seamstress Shop and enjoyed a few quiet moments with her in the back room, he rode into the Greiner’s yard. Cody hurried out to take his horse. “Mrs. Miranda, Miss Winifred, and Miss Rebecca are in the house, sheriff. I’ll take care of your horse.”
“Thanks,” Ben replied and strode to the front door and knocked.
He heard laughter before Miranda swung the door open. “Ben Clay, good to see you. Come in. Roy isn’t here at the moment, but I have fresh coffee and some cherry pie.”
Ben removed his hat and smiled, “Thank you, Ma’am. I always enjoy your cherry pie, but I did come here to speak to Miss Winifred.”
“Then follow me, she’s in the kitchen.”
As soon as Miranda entered the kitchen, she spun to speak to Ben. “Sit down. Winifred is right here. She can sit and talk to you while I get your pie and coffee.” She spun back around and set a cup of coffee before him before he completely settled in his chair.
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