Wanted: Hired Gun

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Wanted: Hired Gun Page 9

by Ginny Sterling


  “I know,” Garrison whispered, holding his arm steady and staring down the sight. He’d used this gun for years now and knew that the aim was off to the left and up. Each gun was different, and a marksman had to learn the gun so he knew where to fire. In order to hit the apple, he had to aim for his beloved bride’s clear blue eye. Swallowing hard, he tuned out everything else and slowed his breathing. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears and he was extremely careful taking no more chances with Posey’s life.

  “This will be the last act for tonight, everyone- one way or the other,” he said softly, staring at Posey. He knew that if he accidently harmed her, he himself was finished. He understood her words from her soliloquy and knew he couldn’t live without Posey in his life.

  Garrison said a silent prayer and pulled the trigger.

  16

  Posey felt the whoosh of air the moment the gun fired. She hadn’t realized how fast and deadly everything would be. Garrison had, and she hadn’t listened to him- again. He’d told her no repeatedly and in the split second she’d seen him squeeze the trigger, she’d had a moment’s doubt. Thankfully she hadn’t moved a muscle.

  The apple split atop of her head, lodging the bullet into the wood behind her. She’d heard the thud and immediately thought she was dying – except there was no pain. Had she wanted to die, was that her end goal with such a stupid stunt? Each half of the apple plopped onto the stage beside her as she stared at Garrison’s frightened face.

  Nobody moved or breathed.

  Posey finally stepped forward away from the wall and looked away from her husband in horror. Abject fear and realization raced through her body as she knew in that moment she could have lost everything – and still might have. She looked back at Garrison, seeing tears shimmer in his broken eyes as he stared at her.

  “Butterfly- are you okay?” he whispered, devastated and in sheer disbelief. He took two steps towards her and shakily put his gun in the holster. Posey didn’t know what to do or say to him. She was still stunned and in shock.

  “Garrison,” she breathed fearfully and held out her arms to him, only to have him crush her against him in relief. She didn’t even hear the applause or relief in the audience, her world was right there in his arms.

  Sherriff Alexzander stood up and began ushering everyone towards the door. “Alright everyone. That’s enough for today. This duo has some talking to do, and this moment’s been a long time coming. Let ‘em get it out of their system.”

  Posey clutched at Garrison’s shoulders and held him tightly for several minutes as the theater emptied out into the street. The feel of his strong body was an abrupt reminder of what she’d agreed to. Tensing, she felt him release his grip on her ever so slightly as the moment passed. She was alive and safe. He was here with her, and she’d committed to something that scared her to death. She looked up and saw the relief in his gaze as he realized she wasn’t harmed.

  “I did my job, now it’s time for you to do yours,” he said firmly, throwing her words back at her. “Go home and get yourself ready, wife. I’ll close up here.”

  “I was kidding,” she stammered.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “I just pointed a gun at the woman I love and pulled the trigger. I have never been more serious in my life. Now, go home. I want to see those silk stockings from France,” he taunted with a mischievous glint in his eye, “And nothing else.”

  “I won’t do it. I’m not ready.”

  “Posey, I wasn’t ready to do what you asked of me either- but I promise if I can live through it, you can too. If you want to walk with me, I’ll be done here in ten minutes flat. I just thought I would be courteous to you and give you a bit of space first.”

  “Yes, a bit of space is a superb idea,” she nodded quickly, grasping at straws.

  “Ten minutes, wife, before I invade your space and make you mine.”

  “What?” she screeched indignantly, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

  “You heard me. Nine minutes and counting, butterfly.”

  Posey did an about face and ran from the theater in her costume. His laughter carried on the night air and echoed in her mind. She wasn’t ready to give up herself or give control to her husband, and this part of his personality irritated the fire out of her.

  And lit a new flame in her soul.

  17

  Posey ran like a pack of wild dogs was nipping at her heels. She was scared, there was no getting around it. She’d heard fantastical stories from other performers in Chicago that their husbands were controlling, demanding and tried to change their ways. Several women had children that kept them at home, dampening their spirit, and a few claimed to have been hurt during the act. She knew nothing of what to expect other than what they’d shared. It wasn’t something she and her mother discussed over the dinner table.

  She was going into the marriage bed blindly and leery, desperate for more time to prepare herself for what Garrison was about to force on her. Instead of going inside her house, she ducked down in the bushes on the side of the house and tucked her dress neatly underneath her. She was such a coward, hiding in the bushes and craved a cigarette to calm her nerves. She’d stopped smoking the moment Hattie had told her it could be an irritant to Garrison, and she hadn’t missed it until now. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she lay her head down and prayed that next time she ran into her husband he would understand.

  Hearing the front door to her house open and then close, she muffled a gasp and expected to hear him yelling inside as he searched for her. Instead, moments passed and she heard the door open and close again. The crunch of his boots on gravel nearby had her holding her breath as she waited for him to continue on his way. Mortified, she felt like she was six and playing hide-and-seek, instead of twenty-four and a married woman.

  “Is there room for two?” she heard his voice in the darkness and gasped. Garrison stood nearby awaiting an answer.

  “No. This shrub only holds one little chicken tonight. Go away.”

  “Posey, walk with me and let’s talk.”

  “It’s okay. You go on inside… and I’ll be right there.”

  “Somehow I don’t think so,” he chuckled. “You can either come walk with me in the moonlight or I can join you in the bushes.” She thought for several minutes and realized he wasn’t moving, just awaiting her answer. Frustrated, she flung up her hand into the air and took hold of his, pulling her to her feet.

  “You know, you don’t have to give orders all the time,” she smarted, dusting off her dress from where she’d sat.

  “I try not to,” he countered. “I give options and want you to choose what would make you happy.”

  “Then how come the options are never ones that I like?”

  “Like what? I offered to join you or go for a walk together – you stood up. It was your choice.”

  “You also said to meet you here in ten minutes.”

  “In stockings,” he reminded her with a smile.

  “Exactly- I didn’t get an option.”

  “No, your option was for me to shoot the apple or not. Meeting you here was a result of a choice you made.”

  “Don’t twist my words.”

  “Don’t do it to mine either.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Posey, I want your heart and your trust,” he admitted tenderly. “I want you to walk with me, talk to me- not at me. Let me love you, wife.”

  “I don’t talk at you.”

  “You also don’t share. You don’t let me in. You tell me what you need, and I do everything in my power to give it to you. I haven’t been home because you needed the theater completed. We were out of money, and I took a second job. You need, I will always provide.”

  “That goes two ways, you know?” she retorted. “When I needed a kiss, you refused.”

  “I’d like to kiss you now.”

  “No, you lecher- you want to do more than that.”


  “I want you as a husband desires his wife, the woman he loves.”

  “See?”

  “And it begins with kissing. Is kissing me so very terrible?”

  “No, not at all,” she stammered, embarrassed. “It’s the other things that you are going to try to do that bother me.”

  “What if I said you could tell me no at any time- and I would stop?”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why? Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why can’t you trust me?”

  “I’m scared, Garrison,” Posey admitted fearfully. “I’m scared that fully being your wife might hurt me, or allow you to change me- who I am. I like me, and I don’t want to become a different person… unless it’s something I choose.”

  “Posey, it’s just you and me. Let’s go for a walk and talk privately unless you want to head inside. People are still milling about, and we are already the talk of the town.”

  “I don’t want to go inside, you’ll talk me into the bedroom.”

  “Then walk with me, darling. Take my arm and lead the way. I will follow wherever you decide to go.” She stepped out and placed her hand gingerly on his arm. Thankfully he didn’t make a move towards her or she might have run. Instead, he smiled down at her lovingly.

  “Lead the way.”

  “Where to?”

  “Wherever you feel comfortable talking and we have some privacy.”

  Posey took a step forward and was surprised to see Garrison take a step at her side. She expected him to take the lead or coerce her into heading to the house, but instead she led them into the wide-open streets. They walked for a block slowly together, and she noticed that every time she took a step? He would move a second behind her and kept her pace.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I want you to know I will always be beside you in everything. I might be scared, or worry, but I will be here for you.”

  “Just like Cleopatra, you want a fearless woman leading the way?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “The only woman I want is my little butterfly, my Posey. Don’t ever pretend or act with me. I want you- and I want you to want to be with me.”

  “How about we just talk tonight and see how it goes?”

  “No more bargains, no more acting between us. Tonight, is just Garrison and Posey. A man who loves his girl.”

  “How can you say that when we are still getting to know each other?”

  “I want there to always be a bit of mystery and excitement for us. I want to learn a little bit about you every day for as long as I live, something new to treasure each day.”

  “We are still strangers thrown together by chance”

  “We are man and wife put together by God’s hand. It’s okay to ask me questions or talk to me. I would prefer that then to have you look at me frightened. Where is my brave woman who portrayed Juliet tonight?”

  “Where did you go during that? I looked for you and you disappeared!”

  “I had to go wipe my eyes because I was crying like several women in the audience.”

  “Really?”

  “My heart was breaking for you, and I knew at that moment… you thought of me dying, like that day I passed out. I love you too, Posey.”

  “I do love you, Garrison,” she whispered fearfully, searching his eyes. “I want to love you, and my soul felt like it was dying when you couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t live without you.”

  “How do you think I felt pulling the trigger tonight,” he admitted, shivering in fear and nightmarish relief. “Don’t ask me to ever do that again. Did you want to go inside?”

  Posey glanced up and saw they stood in front of the theater. How ironic that she’d led them to the very place that caused her to reach out to him, bringing them together.

  “Yes, please.”

  Garrison opened the door for her and held it as she stepped inside. He threw the bolt on the door giving them privacy and Posey nearly tripped as her heart skipped a beat. Why was she so frightened? He was doing everything he could to make sure she trusted him.

  “We barely know each other,” she repeated, watching him as he drew the curtains on the windows. Each time he closed a curtain, she felt her body respond and her breath quicken. “Garrison, what’s your first name? What is your favorite food? What do you dislike?”

  “My first name? If I tell you my first name will you trust me?” he asked, closing the last curtain on the theater. “You know, no one ever calls me by my first name- not even my mother. If I tell you, will you tell me a secret?” Extending his hand towards her, he smiled sheepishly. “Now don’t laugh…it’s Barachiel.”

  “Bara- what?”

  “Exactly. Barachiel Garrison. It means lightening of God. My mother named me that because he was one of the angelic princes and she said it just came to her when she first swaddled me,” he explained, blushing. “When I was a boy, she used to tell everyone that. I got picked on quite a bit by kids on the street. So, at my request, she started calling me Garrison. I’ve never told anyone my name since.”

  “Thank you for trusting me with that. I won’t tell a soul.”

  “It’s okay. I’m able to defend myself, and I don’t think I will get bullied for my name anymore,” he shrugged and then smiled, lacing his fingers with hers. “I might get bullied for other things, but never that. Now it’s your turn, my love.” Garrison never batted an eye as he slowly led her onto the stage, smiling encouragingly.

  “I want you in your element and comfortable with me, so you can share or tell me anything. It’s just us, and your secrets will never go any farther.” He raised her fingertips to his lips, kissing the tip of each one tenderly. He then kissed the inside of her wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging at the buttons. As each one freed, her heart hammered in her chest. “Can you trust me?”

  “I do,” she whispered, her eyes locked with his. “I’ve never told anyone this but I’ve never been kissed before you that day, in the hallway. That was incredible, and I still think about it. That is when I first realized I loved you, Garrison.”

  “I knew it the moment you stayed by my side and held my hand. You were my everything, and even if I died that day? I had the chance to love you… and you are wearing those stockings, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” she whispered, heatedly.

  “I’m glad,” he breathed as he captured her lips.

  Epilogue

  3 months later

  Posey stood waiting patiently at the train depot and realized that she wished Garrison was here. He was at the theater repairing one of the broken benches. She’d always wanted the glamor and excitement of opening night but now craved a different excitement in her life. A child. She hadn’t quite decided how to tell Garrison yet but thought having his mother here for a visit at Christmastime might be the perfect setting. She’d written to her a month ago with the invitation.

  The woman who’d given birth to her husband and saved his life would always have a spot in her heart and home. She’d told him that she’d written, but not that she’d invited her out. Posey wanted to surprise him and thought the visit might throw Garrison off the scent.

  As the train pulled forward, she was fondly remembering how she’d first laid eyes upon her beloved husband. The shocked expression on his face then had worried he,r and she’d gone over and above to try and hurriedly get him to the altar in order to put him to work. Nothing would dissuade her from her mission of opening the theater. The irony was not lost on her that she now wanted a different part in running the show. Time and love had changed her heart’s desire. Looking back now she saw that those girls from Chicago hadn’t been upset about the changes, they’d been celebrating the life growing inside of them. Theater had a central focus about making the audience feel like they were part of the show, but it was perspective… just like life. If she had known then what she knew now, then maybe she and Garrison would have had an easier time f
alling in love.

  Truly though, she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  Glancing up from her distracted thoughts, Posey saw Garrison’s mother. It had to be her because she noticed the same features on the woman’s face. He looked a lot like his mother and wondered what a young boy of theirs would look like, if they would have his daddy’s features or hers?

  “Mrs. Garrison?”

  “You must be Posey?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Posey said happily and was pulled into a massive hug, reminding her of Garrison. Laughing, she instantly adored the woman as his mother began to pinch Posey’s cheeks and lay a hand on her stomach.

  “Is that my grandbaby in there? You’ve a glow to your face!”

  “Garrison doesn’t know yet, but I have a favor to ask? Well two of them now.”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “You can’t tell Garrison yet about the baby, and you’ll need to remove those feathers from your hat before we go home.” Posey said knowingly, pointing at the plumes curled decoratively into the air. Her husband had not had an attack since that day, and she planned on keeping it that way. She would never have feathers in the house again, nor anything else that could possibly set him off. If he got the slightest barking cough, they immediately removed it from their lives. She wouldn’t take a chance with his life ever again, just like he wouldn’t with hers.

  “He is still having problems? Should I get rid of the hat?”

  “No ma’am, he’s done much better. Just pluck the feathers off and toss them out. It should be fine.”

  Later that evening, it was wonderful to gather around the hearth and hear stories of Garrison as a boy. Posey adored his shy chuckle at the outlandish and embellished tales of his childhood. There was nothing so beautiful as the memory of something seen through a mother’s eyes… and knew she would love her own child, as much as Garrison’s mother loved her son.

 

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