Mail Order Megan (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 11)

by Elissa Strati

  Dear Tom,

  I am so sorry to leave you in the lurch but it has been utter chaos here. I arrived anticipating all would be in readiness for our journey, only to discover Rachel ill in bed complaining of a fever. The doctor was summoned and he advised I had best be prepared for an extended bout of sickness in the family unless measles had already made their rounds. It seems Rachel helped a neighbor tend her sick child and contracted the disease from her. While he assured me that Rachel is young and strong and should recover, he did warn that adults suffer far more acutely than children—and then asked if I recalled having had the illness.

  Yes, I had, and had been miserable for weeks, but, obviously, eventually recovered. But that leaves the boys who have not yet shown indications but I am warned to be aware of the symptoms of fever and rash.

  But all this means I shall not be returning timely.

  I am wondering whether you should, perhaps, try to close off the entrance to make it unknown from the outside so you can go ahead to be with your wife for her confinement?

  While we agreed one of us should remain with the claim at all times to prevent poaching, I think the mine will prove able to withstand some minor losses should another stumble upon it, and we have, after all, obtained a legal right to the property.

  You should take notice of the timber within. I noticed some of the shoring looked as if termites had infiltrated. We may wish to put some time into restoring it when we are both there again. Just be careful in there alone!

  Best of luck with your journey home. Be sure to let me know about your new child when it comes.

  Again, my apologies that this turn of events, albeit beyond my control, puts you in a tight spot, but I am actually glad to have arrived when I did as I fear the boys are too young to have alerted a neighbor to fetch a doctor in good time.

  Sending my prayers to you and your family,

  Most Sincerely,

  Randy

  Megan shook her head. Well that explained why he hadn’t made it back right away. She glanced at the other letters but decided she need not pry further. Although they might illuminate the further delays, those were no longer of direct concern to Tom’s case. Although she did say a quick prayer for the health of the entire Evans family.

  So Tom stopped getting his mail even before he knew his partner would be late getting back. I wonder if he was working the mine while his partner was away. Is it even safe to work alone? Well, it must be if so many of them seem to do it. I guess a visit to the mine is in order.

  Removing her travel costume, she lay on top of the sheet in her chemise and was soon asleep.

  Ted awoke her some hours later with a slightly beery kiss on her cheek. She rolled over just enough to return the kiss, and then pushed him away, laughing, as she sat up.

  “How much did you have to drink?”

  “Enough to quench my thirst, minx! You wouldn’t have me drink the water, would you? I’m sure they don’t boil it and I’m not sure of its source!”

  “Now you sound like a doctor, but I am glad you think to take care of your well-being.”

  “Said like a proper wife!”

  “Well, you can act like a proper husband and help lace up my stays and button my gown. I’ve gotten spoiled by having Maria to assist me. It makes me realize how truly unsatisfactory was Lucy as my abigail.”

  They had arranged to meet the O’Henrys at Maison Doree where one could enjoy fresh oysters among other delicacies. Megan hadn’t been away from Philadelphia long enough to miss the fresh seafood available, but Ted took the opportunity every time he came to Tombstone to enjoy at least one meal there. The women looked approvingly at each other’s costumes as they greeted one another warmly, and introductions were performed all around. Despite their disparate backgrounds, there were few awkward pauses but much laughter as they enjoyed their meals, discussing favorite foods from home, before settling in to the topic of Camellia’s father’s whereabouts.

  It was decided that a trip to the mine would be the first order of business in the morning, with the hope of encountering Mr. Evans there and perhaps even Tom McNeel, although his failure to collect his mailed argued he was no longer in Tombstone. Flora would not be joining them as she had started a small school for the younger children near their house, but Megan was adamant; she insisted on accompanying Ted to try to find Camellia's father, and Ted was inclined to indulge his bride whenever he could.

  CHAPTER TWENTY – Kidnapped!

  The honeymooners awoke reluctantly to the knock of the maid delivering hot chocolate and pan dulce (sweet bread) to the room, as requested the night before. They had decided not to bother with a full breakfast, in order to make a faster start, but had arranged for a luncheon basket to take with them.

  Hefting the basket, Ted suggested he pick up the buggy from the OK Livery and come back for it and Megan. Megan smiled sweetly and turned to the porter.

  “Can you just hold that for us until we are back with our conveyance?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Bristol!”

  Looking back at Ted she rested her hand on his arm and looked up at him winsomely. “I’d really much rather accompany you on this fine morning.”

  The desk clerk grinned and shook his head indulgently as the couple strolled out arm in arm.

  Droopy Pete had been leaning on the wall just outside Hafford’s Saloon, keeping an eye on the Grand. His luxuriant mustache blended in with the variety of facial hair to be seen on the local male population, he thought smugly. He waited until the Bristols had strolled past him on the opposite side of the street before straightening up and following them slowly. His horse was hitched in front of the Can Can, and he took his time untying the mare and checking his saddle girth. In a few minutes he saw Ted hand Megan up into a rented buggy, then climb in beside her and take the reins. They drove the scant block back to the hotel and Ted went inside to secure the lunch hamper.

  Looking around the largely deserted street, Pete acted on impulse. Moving swiftly, he mounted his horse and rode over to where Megan was sitting. As she turned to see who was coming up beside her, he leaned over and scooped her right out of the buggy and onto his lap.

  Her shriek had passers-by looking their way, but Pete bent down and planted his lips on her face, effectively shutting her up. It also served to make the onlookers shrug and start walking away.

  Off balance and flailing, Megan scratched at the foul-smelling face attacking hers and found her fingers entwined with what felt like one of the fox tails that trimmed her winter coat. Yanking her hand to free it, the fur came away and she nearly fell as the man jerked back, trying to grab at his face. He kicked the horse into a gallop as she managed another scream, his flailing arm pinning her as he tried to reach his face, only to find her body in the way.

  Aware of the panicked horse’s growing speed, her fingers grabbed what they could. She felt more greasy hair and grabbed tightly as the man’s yelp of pain was added to her own continued high pitched vocalizations. The dead animal—well she hoped it was dead!—still clung to her other hand as she struggled for a handhold on that side. Digging in her nails and pulling, she felt the fabric she was clutching give way as the shirt tore open and several buttons popped off. She scrabbled again for purchase and this time her fingers snagged the neck of the knit undergarment he wore beneath the shirt. Shuddering at the thought of what she was touching, but reluctant to fall to her death beneath the horse’s hooves, she clung tightly as they soon left the town behind.

  Pete was in quite a lot of pain from his torn-off mustache and pulled hair, and was in a fair way to being strangled by the tight grasp on his garments, but he forced himself to focus on controlling his mount. Realizing no one was behind them, he gradually regained control of the bit and eased the horse off the road and into the dips and crevices that made up the hilly landscape. Once out of sight, he pushed toward the river, where the cottonwoods would screen them, should anyone try to follow.

  ~~~

  Ted smiled at the des
k clerk as he retrieved their picnic hamper. Reaching out to accept the basket he became aware of a commotion outside the door and then heard a woman scream. That was Megan’s voice! What was happening? He should never have left her alone outside, unprotected.

  The basket dropped back onto the counter as both men raced outside and saw the fleeing horse with its double load, Ted confirming the color of Megan’s riding habit.

  “Stop! Thief! Murderer!” he called out, leaping up into the buggy.

  One of the onlookers came up to Ted, exclaiming, “Say, that was Droopy Pete that went off with the lady. I just saw his poster at the jail! But I thought from the way he kissed her she was his wife.”

  “No!” cried Ted. “That's my wife he just kidnapped. Where's the sheriff? Tell him which way he went!” he called out as he snapped the reins and started to give chase. The man who’d identified Pete managed to scramble aboard as the carriage gained speed, and yelled out to someone in the gathering crowd to bring his horse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – Following Clues

  Pinkerton Agent Ned Brandt had been busy. Willie “the Dip” was a vile character and they had enough evidence against him to lock him away for a good, long time, whether he confessed or not. But when he learned he was being accused of the murder of Nettie, a hanging offense, he broke down.

  “She’s . . . dead?” He turned deathly pale. “She was fine when I left her, cursing up a blue streak when I told her I wasn’t coming back to her.”

  “And why was that?” asked Ned.

  “Why that no good tramp was two-timing me with ‘Red’ Culver, that’s why! She’d been telling me he was her brother but I found out from Pete’s wife, Maddie, that Nettie didn’t even have no brother!”

  Now we’re getting somewhere! This is the first time he’s even admitted knowing Pete!

  “So you didn’t stab her?”

  Willie goggled.

  “Stabbed? Someone stabbed her?” He shook his head in disbelief. “If you told me she’d stabbed someone . . . But she’d never let someone near enough to cut her.”

  “But you did beat her up.” Ned spoke flatly.

  Laughing harshly, Willie admitted, “I hit her. But just once, with the back of my hand when she tried the brother thing again.” He looked down at his right hand where the imprint of a ring remained on his pinkie finger. They’d taken the diamond from him when they booked him. Looking up again he added, “Cut her mouth, and may have cracked her tooth. But she had that blade out so fast she almost cut me, if I hadn’t been backing away from her so fast.”

  He shook his head again. “Meaner’n a snake, that one, but she could be might nice, too.” He sighed.

  “But I never killed her!”

  Ned stared at Willie. What he said rang true. He’d seen her body and her face had been bruised and her lip cut, but those marks had been at least a day old. The knife had been what killed her.

  “Red” Culver? First time his name had been mentioned, but Red had a reputation. Folks wouldn’t have crossed him by bandying his name about. He’d get Randy on it.

  “So, now, let’s talk about Pete Gunder.”

  ~~~

  Sheriff Johnny Behan was at his desk, rereading the wire he’d just received from a Pinkerton agent, a Ned Brandt. Hmmm, he’d heard that name. He usually worked the railroads in the east.

  Intercepted mail from “Droopy Pete” Gunder stating he’s in Tombstone. Arrest on sight.

  That was where he’d seen the name. On one of the Wanted posters that just came in. Robbery and murder on a train. The Sheriff looked up at the wall and zeroed in on the one for “Droopy Pete.” Hard to tell what the man looked like behind that bush of a mustache hanging lushly down to below his chin.

  His head swiveled toward the door as he heard running footsteps pounding along the boardwalk. The door burst open and one of his deputies stumbled across the doorstep.

  “‘Droopy Pete’ just kidnapped some woman! Her husband and Steve Coleman took after them in a buggy but Neal Foster saw Pete cut toward the river as soon as he was out of town. We need to ride after them! The husband didn’t even look armed! Steve said to bring his horse.”

  “Best grab two. That buggy’ll be no good if he’s going off trail. Get Beau Smith, too. He’s our best tracker!”

  Word went out quickly and a posse was rounded up to join the chase. Moses had gotten in touch with Randy Evans, Tom McNeel’s partner, and had been waiting at a small café for the Bristols to swing by on their way to the mine. They’d heard the hullabaloo on Allen Street and rode up in time to be deputized into the posse.

  ~~~

  Ned Brandt had sent off two telegrams, one to Tombstone and one to Miss Maddux; no, surely she was Mrs. Bristol now. To be sure, he put both names on the wire. It had arrived safely, but too late. Megan was already on the Tombstone stage. The wire now rested with other mail on Ted’s desk, and Ned was on a train heading west, hoping to get to Tombstone before Pete could cause any more mischief.

  ~~~

  Neal Foster led the way to where he’d seen Pete and his captive take off into the brush; then Beau took over, easily tracking the crushed undergrowth.

  It wasn’t too long before they came upon the buggy, stuck between a pair of saplings. Tom and Steve had removed the horse from its traces and were debating who’d head back on the beast bareback when the posse arrived. They hobbled the carthorse and left it grazing while each happily accepted saddled mounts.

  The tracks were still clear until they reached the river. Beau then split the group into four parts sending each in a different direction and along a different side to pick up the trail. It wasn’t long before a holler was heard.

  “They’ve doubled back toward the mines!”

  Beau again took point and they continued to follow Pete’s trail as it wound through the rocks and hills.

  Moses rode over toward Randy, who was with Ted and Steve Coleman.

  “I have a notion where your claim is,” said Moses “and, it looks like we're heading right for it.”

  “You’re right,” replied Randy. “Tom and I always took care not to leave a track so we wandered a bit as we approached. But I know a shortcut from here.”

  “I’m willing to take your lead,” Ted agreed.

  Steve Coleman agreed. “If they aren’t there we can double back and pick up the track this group is leaving.” He headed over to Beau to let him know what they were intending. Beau, thought it made sense for him to keep following the trail in case the others were on a wild goose chase, but worth a shot for the four of them to head out in case the chase panned out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – The Mine

  Pete had managed to get at least a half hour head start on the posse, and had previously checked out the mine location. He hadn't gone much beyond the entrance, as a cave-in had blocked much of the opening, but once he and Megan arrived, he thrust her limp body into the adit and, using his bulk, rolled a stone to block her way out.

  She had done her best to scratch, bite, and otherwise free herself of Pete, attempting to fling herself from the horse when they slowed down, until finally he had sworn at her and used his big fist to knock her out. For a man of his size and strength her light weight was nothing, and he had tucked her against him for the remainder of the ride.

  Having rid himself of his burden for the time being, he drew his horse out of sight and proceeded to get above the mine in order to have an overview of the location. He was cursing his impulse to snatch her as he climbed.

  In the mine, Megan gradually came to. Her head hurt abominably and her jaw was bruised, and her hand wouldn't open completely and seem to have a dead animal in it. Forcing her eyes to focus, she stared at the mass in her hand and tried to open her fingers wider. As she did so the mass of fur reshaped itself into Pete's mustache, sticky from the spirit gum he used to keep it on his lip. Well that would explain why he was yelling. It must have hurt to have it ripped off like that. She slipped the mustache into her pocket and surve
yed her surroundings.

  She appeared to be in a cave. Maybe the mine? Pain in her head stabbed at her but she managed to stand. Holding onto the wall she closed her eyes and breathed deeply a few times. Opening them again, she was pleased to note the dizziness had passed.

  Light filtered around the rock blocking her exit. She tried, in vain, to move it, then began looking for another escape route.

  Off to the side were some boxes that appeared to be neatly stored, awaiting future use. Among them she found several lanterns, a box of matches, and a pick and shovel, Lighting one of the lanterns, she raised it above her head and started moving deeper into the cave, where she could see marks on the walls where the opening had been enlarged. The way was now partially blocked, however, by fallen rock and debris.

  Some of the rocks gleamed in the light from her lantern but she kept moving, searching for a way out. Ahead she spotted a patch of blue that looked like cloth. As she got closer, she realized it was the edge of a trouser leg. A large rock trapped the cloth, but she was able to pull some of the smaller stones aside to confirm what she’d feared: she had found a body.

  Holding the lantern up, she could see where the roof had collapsed onto the person below, but there did not appear to be enough space at the top for her to crawl through. The thought passed through her mind that she should be screaming and panicking, or even fainting, were she any type of proper maiden.

  And then she grinned, thinking to herself that no, she was a happily married woman now. And, with that thought, knowing her husband would have come after her, she headed back to the entrance of the mine.

  If she had to, she would use the pick and dig herself out. But as she approached the entrance she could hear noises in the background, including shots and cries. Perhaps she had better wait to start digging. The last thing she wanted to do was catch a bullet on her way out.