Her uncle had fallen on hard times after her aunt had passed away, asking that her mother send help to aide him in his time of need. Posey’s mother couldn’t travel as she was still healing from yellow fever. The bouts were taxing on her and she didn’t stray far from her physician who kept her supplied with laudanum and quinine. Her mother complained about the ringing in her ears, so she would take a dose of laudanum and sleep the afternoon away. There was simply no way she could travel and aide her brother, so Posey had volunteered. It was getting stuffy in town and frankly she was upset that she’d been passed up for a lead role in a new play releasing, Barbiere Di Siviglia.
That was fine.
She’d show them all and set up her own theater, her own shows and perform what she wanted. As she arrived in Silverpines she was met with an entirely different drama full of horror and heartbreak. She would never forget that first day, seeing the chaos that had occurred. People were running through the streets in one direction, crying and screaming for help. Several had shovels and buckets- or looked completely befuddled and lost.
It didn’t take long for Posey to realize that something horrific had just occurred nearby. As she listened and walked with the others in the general direction, she overheard stories of the earthquakes and mine collapse. Her uncle had been a miner, according to her mother and she knew deep in her gut that she’d been led to this place for a reason. In no time at all, word was spreading about a mudslide in the nearby town, that effectively wiped it off the face of the map.
Posey had rolled up her sleeves and immediately put herself to work. She had no idea who these people were, nor did they know her – but she was an eager, healthy set of hands during a crisis. She took her rest breaks under the trees just like the others, ate when possible and mourned when her uncle’s body was pulled from the debris.
Welcome to Silverpines, she thought sadly.
Her only family out here was gone and she was stuck unless she was going to tuck tail and return to Chicago. The next few days revealed that she had been deeded his small cabin on the outskirts of town providing her a home. Her uncle’s description of ‘hard times’ had actually been his health had been failing. When he’d received word, she was traveling out to stay with him. Her uncle had been so happy that he’d immediately changed his will and transferred his meager funds to her name.
Posey had added her own monies and purchased a small wooden building to set up a theater, thus giving her dreams substance. It would take months to make any progress or get to a position where she could actually do a true performance on a stage. She had trunks full of costumes, but no way to store them much less a place to perform them.
The building had no true character to it. It was four wooden walls with a potbelly stove in the corner for those cold winter nights. Posey had set out to sketch what she wanted inside the building, going so far as to draw on the floor with a charcoal pencil an outline of her stage. It would take money, time and hard work- things she had plenty of. Money was available, but she wasn’t rich by any means. She had her savings from Chicago and a few baubles she could sell if needed. Time was simple – she had nothing but time on her hands now…and hard work? That would be the tough part.
Posey had never lifted a hammer in her life.
She wasn’t dissuaded in the slightest either. If she could learn how to stitch up a man, cook over an open fire, or make bandages – she could learn how to build a stage. She would make friends, gather information and once she put her mind to it – there was nothing she couldn’t do!
Looking from the boy to the stack of goods in the corner, Posey sighed. Perhaps now wasn’t the right time to focus on line-work with a boy who looked like he didn’t really want to be in her theater after all. Maybe she should just concentrate on finishing some of the repairs to the building, whitewashing the walls and eventually building a stage. The lumber had sat there for over a week now, taunting her silently.
“Thank you, young man. What do you say we are finished for the day? Take your coin and I will be in touch when the time arises, okay?” Posey said brightly with a smile. He snatched the coin from her hand and darted out the door, causing her to adjust the heavy wig pinned to her head. She loved to dress up and make believe, that is why theater called to her very soul. There was something so special in getting to pretend she was someone else, someone important.
Today, she was going to play the biggest part in her life – the part of a bride. Posey had realized that she knew nothing about construction, nor had the upper body strength to do repairs to the building. She also had a few ruffians that had been harassing her a bit over her ‘get-ups’, as they put it. Her costumes were garish and outlandish, sparkling from beads and sequins when she dressed up.
Posey was also a modern girl, indulging in a cigarette here and there. She wanted to be something special, someone that was recognized, and everyone knew. Putting on a charade, she’d strutted into the bar and played faro, having a drink, and relishing the thought of acting like the infamous Pearl Hart… but all of that landed her in more trouble. People said she was loose and talked about her on the sly. It wasn’t vivacious or exciting – it was more of a headache and she was starting to fear for her safety being alone all of the time. When she heard several women had sent off to the Groom’s Gazette, Posey realized that this was a perfect opportunity to cross off a few things on her ‘to do’ list.
A husband could save her good name, be strong, and help her build the stage. If he was skilled with a gun – he could be a sharpshooter, a hired gun, for her show. Gun shows were all the rage right now and vaudeville posters had been plastered all over town in Chicago. Plus, she didn’t want to admit that she was frightened of being alone if something happened again. The thought of going through the trauma when you didn’t know anyone was hard enough, but now that she’d been here a few months – she had friends and recognized people. She’d been rocked to her core, as well as many others, by the tragedy. A husband, a friend, and coworker could be a shoulder to rely on in a time of need – something she’d never realized she needed before.
Sitting there daydreaming, Posey realized that it must be getting late and her mail order groom would be arriving in town soon. Glancing up, she heard the train whistle blow and jumped to her feet. It must be later than she thought because that was the signal for an upcoming departure. Opening the door to her soon-to-be theater, Posey didn’t bother with changing clothing and getting out of the costume…rather, she decided to greet her new husband in full regalia.
Who else better to be, than Marie Antoinette?
3
Garrison glanced out of the train window as the swaying slowed down. “Silverpines, Oregon ahead!” the conductor called and Garrison clenched his bag. All he had left in the world was in that small bag. His gun, a small box of bullets, a Bible, a handkerchief, and a clean pair of drawers. He’d rolled his eyes as he saw the contents, wishing for a few other things instead. Money, a knife, a clean shirt? Anything else would have been welcome, making him feel almost ungrateful for the most important thing of all: his life. He was sure his mother had been a nervous wreck when she had hastily packed the bag.
He pulled the letter from his shirt pocket as the train arrived in town. Posey Jones. He would be meeting a young lady by the name of Posey and taking her to be his wife. Her elegantly written words had seared his brain over the last several days, making him feel so grateful for a second chance at life.
He had prayed and begged for a chance, a path, and now he’d gotten it. That path led directly to the other side of the continent, to a world most foreign to him. He’d grown up in town and spent time in the military – the stretch of plains, trees and open sky had him awestruck. He glanced at the worn letter, re-reading the carefully crafted letter once more and hoping for a bit of insight to the woman he was tying his life to.
To whom it may concern:
My name is Posey Jones and I am in desperate need of assistance. It has come to my attention that I mu
st have help. I need to draw attention to my fledgling business, thus inspiring myself and others. Most of the townsmen perished in the mine collapse and I would rather have someone that arrives here with a fresh outlook, rather than pity or sadness I see on the people’s faces.
You see, I am fairly new to Silverpines – only relocating from Chicago myself just after the earthquakes. Can you imagine the horrors that presented themselves upon my arrival? My uncle, whom I was supposed to take care of, passed away in the quake and I have found myself needing a strong man. A husband who will not try to assert control- yet allow me to be myself. I do not need a beau, simply I am looking for a hired gun.
I have included a one-way ticket to Silverpines and as my hired gun, you will have access to funds and freedom to start your life here. It’s a strange request, but one carefully thought out, to be sure. Keep an open mind and be ready for quite the performance, kind sir! You’ll find me at the station easily as I am quite comely and easily spotted. Search for the brunette with the largest smile- and that shall be me!
Sincerely,
Miss Posey Jones
Garrison allowed himself to chuckle as he felt his cheeks heat up at reading the last sentence. Did she mean to phrase her sentence like that? Quite the performance? Just what was he getting himself into? Truly it didn’t matter at this point. He was free and looking forward to meeting Ms. Posey Jones. The train gave a sudden lurch as it came to a halt, causing him to glance out of the window and look for the ‘brunette with a smile’.
As the people filed off the train, he slowly made his way to the doorway. He could have rushed right out, however, he was feeling a bit nervous. It wasn’t every day you met your bride, sight unseen. Look for the brunette, he kept repeating to himself silently as he scanned the crowd. Several began to meet up with their loved ones, a few shy smiles told him that he might not be the only one meeting a bride here for the first time at the depot.
Garrison raked his fingers through his shaggy hair and glanced up only to see the most beautiful, yet strangely clad woman walking towards the platform. A large, fancy elaborate powdered wig was atop her head and it looked mighty heavy. Her dress was completely outrageous- as the corset was scandalously placed on the outside of the gown, tied with a massive blue bow made out of wide ribbon.
As she approached, he saw her scrubbing her face with a washcloth as she stepped lively towards the group of people, stopping to say hello a few times. She ran the washrag over her face one more time, smearing the thick cosmetics before yanking off the enormous white wig – revealing a chestnut brown mess in a loose bun. Smoothing back her flattened hair, she smiled widely and waved. Garrison actually turned around and looked to see if someone was standing behind him.
“Hello there!” she called again in a high-pitched voice, her grin would have been infectious if he wasn’t so surprised. Was there a celebration going on and maybe she forgot her over-gown? Garrison felt his face flush red with anger and embarrassment as he realized she might be a lady of the night.
“Are you Posey Jones?” he asked tightly.
“Yes, sir I am. Are you my hired gun?”
“I believe there might have been a ghastly error,” he told her, staring at her costume and trying desperately to avoid looking at her bosom that was exposed to the sun. As if she could read his mind, Posey reached down and grabbed the fabric of the corset giving it a mighty yank upwards. It moved perhaps a half an inch, not enough for his modesty.
“Are you an excellent shot?”
“I was a marksman in the military. Yes,” he began, only to be cut off.
“Perfect. Than you are exactly who I was looking for. I need someone that can shoot straight and hit their target. I don’t want to die, you see? That is why I am going to marry my sharpshooter – one, he won’t shoot his wife and I’m not keen on dying anytime soon. Two, he can actually hit what he aims for. Are you all those things?”
“What are you talking about?”
“My show and becoming my husband,” she said with a wry smile, cocking her head to the side. “What did you think I was talking about silly man when I offered the job? I told you to be ready for the performance. I need a marksman for my newest skit at my hall. I own a Vaudeville theater and I need you to shoot in it.”
Garrison felt himself swallow hard as he glanced down at her bosom uncontrollably. Mercy and sakes alive, she was really pretty! “Could you cover up with something?” he asked quietly, staring up at the sky. “You said you needed a hired gun, I assumed you were in danger.”
“I’m always in danger,” she laughed. “Just look at me. I go around in costume, some quite scandalous, and I have a reputation starting that needs to be subdued. People are starting to talk because while Silverpines is growing. It’s certainly not Chicago. There I could go out on stage in a belly dancer costume and be revered. Here, I might get booed for showing so much skin. It’s just a different environment, a different world.”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, let’s check off a few boxes and get ourselves married. Are you hungry?”
“I’m afraid my head is quite spinning.”
“Oh no, are you going to faint?”
“No, no- nothing like that. It’s just this is all happening a bit fast- well, you are fast.”
“Have you heard the rumors then? I assure you- it’s not true. I am not a fast or loose woman. I like to play a part in my theater and that’s about it. Other than that, I’m a normal Midwest girl.”
“I don’t think there is anything normal about you, Miss Jones.”
“Awww,” she said with a grin, patting him on the cheek boldly. “You are a sweet thing, aren’t you? Why don’t you call me Posey? Now, can you shoot?”
“Yes.”
“Are you really darn good at it?”
“Very. I was a marksman, remember?”
“You said that- just doublechecking,” she said with a nod, watching him with hard, canny eyes. “Unmarried, correct?”
“Yes. I’m not married.”
“Okay! You’ll do!” Posey chirped brightly, grabbing for his hand. Garrison pulled back for a moment in surprise only to see Posey laugh as she reached for it again. “C’mon silly. We are heading to the church. I never thought I’d get married in Marie Antoinette’s costume, but c’est la vie. Let’s get this business done with and make it official.”
“Don’t you want to marry someone you love?” he asked, gawking at her as she walked ahead of him, pulling at his arm. He couldn’t help but admire the sway of her corset and think of what it would look like if it was hidden by a dress like designed. Didn’t she feel ashamed walking around town in pantaloons, chemise, and corset?
“Look,” Posey said with a sigh, coming to a stop in front of the small church. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can simply just hire you, if you want? You could go on about your way but this gets me a little bit more respect in town and gets you a roof over your head. I’m not a bad person,” she finished softly, looking around. “I promise.”
Her doe-brown eyes held his transfixed and Garrison realized that nothing would ever be the same again. His old life was gone and he had the opportunity to marry this elaborate, beautiful woman that took his breath away.
“I never said you were a bad woman, I asked if you wanted to marry for love someday?”
“I don’t know that I will get that luxury.”
“It’s not a luxury, it’s necessary to be happy in a relationship.”
“Well then… I guess I love you, big guy,” she quipped playfully and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Come on, you sweet romantic fella. Let’s make this official and you can decide on the love thing later on, if it strikes your fancy.”
“You don’t care?”
“I’m too busy to care right now,” Posey said, annoyed. “Are we doing this or not? If you don’t want to be my sharpshooter for the show I can get you a ticket back to wherever you came from…”
“No!” Garr
ison quickly interrupted and snatched Posey’s hand, hauling her up the church steps bodily as she struggled to keep up with him. He’d had a noose around his neck before and lived… he figured a marital noose would be more acceptable and palatable than the actual thing occurring again.
“I’m not going back.”
“Well, welcome to Silverpines… husband.”
4
This had to be the strangest afternoon for Garrison – actually it had been a week for the record books. On the verge of hanging one day and getting married another. Watching the woman out of the corner of his eye as he listened to the preacher’s words faintly, he noticed that Posey Jones was a very lovely woman. She was classical, to say the very least, with high cheekbones and a sweet pert nose that almost looked to be too long but seemed to be perfect for her face. Wide eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes made him itch to see laughter dancing in them. Her gown, or lack of, was awfully revealing and he blushed hard enough for the two of them when the preacher caught sight of her. The poor man’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when they walked into the church. It was a very informal wedding between the two of them and witnesses pulled off the streets to make it official.
Garrison heard the preacher clear his throat and saw Posey looking up at him expectantly. “Well?” she asked softly, a teasing lilt in her voice, “He’s asking your name, Mr. Garrison.”
“Land sakes, Miss Jones. I’ve seen a lot of things that would make a saint blush or weep but I have never married a girl in her underthings, much less to a stranger. You should at least know each other’s names before joining in matrimony,” he scolded.
Wanted: Hired Gun Page 2
