The Shotgun Proposal

by Barbara Goss

  “I’m in deep trouble. I need your advice.”

  “Go on,” Rance prompted.

  “My mail order bride has arrived,” Wade said. “She’s a monster of a woman. She’s taller and stouter than I am, and she’s got a voice like a man—at first I thought someone was pulling a prank on me. You know, one of the guys, like Ham, dressing as a woman to fool me. But when she got off the train, she was waving my last letter in her hands. I didn’t know what to do,” Wade said. “I’ve managed to put off the wedding by pleading that I needed time to get to know her, but she won’t wait forever. How do I tell her there isn’t enough money in the world to prompt me to marry her?”

  Rance tried to stifle the laugh that had been bubbling to the surface and finally he just let it out.

  “What’s so funny? This is serious, Rance.”

  “It is,” he said, still grinning. “It is. I just envisioned the scene and couldn’t suppress it any longer.”

  Rance finally sobered. “Well, you wrote to her for months, right?” When Wade nodded, he continued. “Did she happen to mention in any of her letters what she disliked in men?”

  Wade hesitated, “Actually, she dislikes a drinking man. I assured her I wasn’t one.”

  “Well, now I think you might become one.” Rance leaned back in his chair. “Or you could introduce her to someone who you think might like her. That way you’d both end up happy. We don’t want her feelings hurt, but you don’t want to be saddled with her either, right?”

  “Right. I’m afraid she’d punch me!”

  “What about Moose Jackson?” Rance suggested.

  “The lumberjack? He’s at least bigger than she is and almost as nasty,” Wade said. “He doesn’t drink, and he’s single. I might be able to arrange a meeting. Good idea, Rance.”

  “Glad I could help. I wish my problems were so easily solved,” Rance said.

  “What problems? You have a successful ranch and a beautiful wife.”

  “A wife who doesn’t speak English. I can’t even have a conversation with her.”

  “But you care for her, right?” Wade asked.

  “I do care for her, but it isn’t love. I know I need to consummate the marriage, but without love, it wouldn’t feel decent, somehow.” Rance put his feet up on the desk and leaned back. “Heaven knows it wouldn’t be difficult to do, though.”

  “You mean you haven’t…yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wait! Aren’t the German Russians in Victoria all Catholic?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “In the first place, her church won’t recognize your marriage to her since it was a protestant wedding…and if it isn’t consummated it can be annulled through the church. So if she wants out of the marriage, it would be simple enough for her to do.”

  Rance brought his feet to the floor and sat up straight. “Is that right?”

  “So if you’ve changed your mind, the marriage could easily be dissolved.”

  “I don’t want it dissolved,” Rance said quickly.

  “Oh. I thought you were unhappy because she didn’t speak English.”

  “I’m not pleased about it, but I care what happens to her. Her father treated her abominably, the poor woman.”

  “So what’s your problem?” Wade asked.

  Rance shrugged. “I was away for over a week and when I returned, Manny told me he’d fired one of my newly hired men. He caught him trying to kiss my wife. I found out from Clara that the kiss was forced on her, and she wasn’t at fault, but it left me feeling…oh, I don’t know, sort of angry and a bit…hurt, I guess.”

  “So you care more than you thought you did?” Wade asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m confused about my feelings, but I do know that if anyone touches my wife, I feel as though I could kill him.”

  As he lay in bed that night, Rance decided it was time to move toward consummating his marriage. He couldn’t risk her leaving him for Emil, or seeking an annulment. If she knew her marriage to him could be terminated, perhaps she’d take advantage of it. He’d have to fix it so it couldn’t ever be annulled. He wasn’t sure if he felt that way because he didn’t want to lose something that belonged to him, or if he really cared for Elsa.

  The more he thought about it, the surer he became. Why did making love need words when his hands and lips could do the talking?

  He decided to take her for a walk, just the two of them, and he’d somehow find a way to become a bit more intimate. A touch here, a smile there, and their relationship might just loosen up a bit. He felt good about his decision fell fast asleep after saying his prayers.

  In the morning, he rushed out to the stables to try to get all the work done that needed doing early, so he could take his wife for a walk. He looked forward to it.

  He’d finished most of his paperwork by noon, and Manny had said he’d supervise the breeding of several horses, so he decided to take a lunch break and then a walk with his wife.

  Clara had set out a simple lunch of cold chicken and a salad. After they’d eaten, and Clara began to clear the table, Rance took the initiative to find a way to ask Elsa for a walk without taking Clara along. He started by smiling at her and then when she turned from him, he touched her hand to get her attention again. He pointed to her, then to himself, made the walking motion with his fingers, and pointed to the door.

  Elsa’s heart beat faster in her chest when she realized Rance had wanted to walk with her. She wondered why, all of a sudden, he wanted to be with her, but she jumped at the chance, nodded, and returned his smile.

  She noticed Clara’s look of puzzlement to see them walking outside together. She’d bet anything Clara had her nose pressed to the glass of the window, watching them go.

  Rance led her past the stables. They walked slowly through a field where Rance pointed to some of the horses in his corral, and she smiled and nodded. They kept walking, and when they'd reached a small babbling creek, he took her hand to help her across as she stepped on the rocks. When she'd made it to the other side, he didn’t drop her hand as she’d expected, but held onto it as they walked instead. He stopped when they reached a log on the ground at the edge of a small forest. He patted the log and she knew he wanted her to sit. He still had ahold of her hand, even after they sat, and she told her heart to be still. She wasn’t a bit afraid of him for some reason, even though they were alone where no one was able to see them; she trusted him completely.

  Elsa was puzzled when he lifted her hand, and pointed to her ring finger, and shrugged. She returned his shrug. He pointed to the jeweled ring on his right hand. She knew he'd finally noticed she didn't have a wedding ring. She waved her hand as if to say, pay it no mind.

  He shook his head and squeezed her hand. Elsa felt like she was floating on a cloud. Here she was, alone with her handsome husband, and his mere touch was enough to wreak havoc on her whole being.

  Slowly he removed his hand from hers and her hand suddenly felt bare and she missed the feel of his hand. Before she was able to miss his touch too much, he put his arm around her, and pressed her head to rest on his shoulder, and patted her arm. Then she felt him kiss the top of her head. She prayed to the saints she wouldn’t faint, though she felt secure and safe in his arms.

  Could he possibly have romantic feelings for her? He’d given her plenty of appreciative looks lately, especially when she’d worn the new clothes he’d purchased. His eyes had lit up each time she’d appeared in one of the dresses. She prayed to the saints again that one day he’d want to hold her tighter and perhaps even kiss her, although she knew if he did it at that moment, she’d surely faint away.

  They sat that way for quite a while. She was content to stay that way forever. His arms were strong and she felt like nothing could ever hurt her again as long as he had his arm around her.

  Everything about Elsa pleased Rance—her smell, and the softness of her skin and hair. Why hadn’t he noticed her beauty before? Of course, the drab clothing and kerchief hadn�
��t done much for her, but now with the colorful, attractive clothes and a more modern hairdo, she was strikingly beautiful.

  She felt so right in his arms. He wished he had the nerve to kiss her, but it was too soon. He had to court her properly or he might scare her. He slid his hand from her shoulder to her waist and pulled her closer, and she didn’t pull away. He marveled at her tiny waist. Perhaps the fact that she hadn’t pulled away showed him she might want a more intimate relationship, too.

  After he’d held her like that for at least thirty minutes, he decided it was enough for the first day of courting, and that they should return to the house. He removed her head from his shoulder and stood. He smiled down at her, and when she returned it, without warning, he felt a flutter in his chest. That was odd, because he’d never felt anything like it before, especially not from a simple smile.

  When they reached the brook, he, once again, helped her across, but as she stepped onto the last rock to reach him, her satin shoe slipped on the slimy rock. Rance grabbed her quickly by the waist and pulled her safely to the bank. She ended up with her body pressed close to his, and to his delight, she grabbed his waist for support. He knew he should move away from her now that she’d landed safely in his arms, but instead, he pulled her even closer for just a moment longer than he should have.

  She felt heavenly against him. His one hand was around her waist and the other was around her shoulders, with her head coming to just below his chin. He came so close to kissing her, but he reprimanded himself. Finally, he released her and she smiled coyly at him, knowing that he’d held her longer than was necessary.

  They walked the rest of the way holding hands. He wasn’t surprised to see Clara sitting on the porch waiting for them. She smiled as they approached.

  “It’s a beautiful day for a walk. I hope you enjoyed it,” Clara said.

  “We did,” Rance said. He handed Elsa over to Clara and went out to the stables, whistling. He felt good about their first courting and hoped she did as well.

  Clara led Elsa into the house. “Tea, dear?” she asked in German.

  “I’d love some, thank you,” Elsa said.

  As Clara poured the tea into their cups she asked, “How was your walk?”

  “It was…enlightening.” Elsa said, hoping she wasn’t blushing.

  “Do you think you could love Rance eventually?” Clara asked. “He’s really a wonderful man.”

  “I think,” Elsa said slowly, “that it’s a very good possibility.”

  Clara put her hands together in a silent clap. “Oh, I’m so glad things are beginning to move forward. I do so love a good romance.”

  “I want a family one day and children,” Elsa said.

  “Of course, you do, but something is bothering me,” Clara said. “Please, be extra careful when you go outdoors. I thought I saw that Emil slinking around behind the bushes by the barn while you and Rance were out on your walk.”

  “Oh, no!” Elsa exclaimed.

  “I don’t think I should tell Rance since I can’t be sure it was him. Rance has so many men working for him that it could have been any one of them. I only had a quick look, for he ducked out of sight when he saw me look his way.”

  “He could ruin everything,” Elsa said with a shudder.

  Chapter 7

  Rance walked into the kitchen, dressed for church. Elsa was sitting at the kitchen table with Clara, nibbling on a slice of toast. He tapped her on the shoulder and tried to make a church steeple with his hands. He could tell by her puzzled look she didn’t know what the gesture meant.

  ““Try using English words‒I’m pretty sure she knows that one,” Clara said.

  Rance asked her, “Church?”

  She shrugged, still looking puzzled. “Church?” she asked.

  “I think her family’s Catholic, Rance,” Clara said.

  Rance rolled his eyes. “I want to take her to church with me.”

  Clara looked at Elsa and said in German, “He would like you to go to church with him. The one where you were married, but I told him you were Catholic.”

  Elsa shook her head and said in English, “No. I vill go.” She stood, said, “Wait,” dashed down the hall, and up the stairs.

  “Good. I think it’s time she met some people, now that she can speak enough to talk to people. She might not get much from the sermon yet, though,” Rance said. “Will you go with us, Clara?”

  “I would, but I awoke with a nasty headache,” she said. “I think I’ll use the time to lie down a while.”

  “Why don’t you lay down now?” Rance asked. “I’ll clear the breakfast table.”

  “Oh, thank you, Rance. Just put them in the sink and I’ll wash them later,” she said before walking up the stairs.

  Rance was standing at the sink washing the breakfast dishes when Elsa returned to the kitchen, dressed in a pink ruffled outfit, and his mouth dropped—she looked stunning. Elsa picked up a towel and dried the dishes he’d washed. He smiled at her, and it suddenly felt like they truly were a married couple.

  When they’d finished, Rance pulled out his pocket watch. He pointed to it and held out his arm. She smiled up at him, she slipped her arm through his, and left the house.

  Rance parked the buggy at the side of the church along with all the others and turned to Elsa. He pointed to her and asked, “Catholic?”

  She waved her hand to dismiss his question and said in English, “God ist in all churches.”

  Rance smiled and lifted her down from the vehicle keeping her close for several seconds longer than necessary. She looked up at him shyly, blushed, and then smiled. She knew he’d done it on purpose and it seemed to please her, which gave Rance a thrill that went through his whole body. She welcomed his advances‒as he knew she would‒but it wasn’t love just yet. How would he know when it was time to kiss her? He thought, perhaps, it was time.

  He held her hand, walked her into the church, and chose a pew in the front section. On the way, he introduced her to several of the elders and a few of his friends. Each time, she said, in English, “A pleasure to meet you,” with the sweetest accent. He was proud of her. She was every bit a lady‒a beautiful one‒and she was his. He felt God had indeed had a hand in this, having given him a wife without him even asking, and while the trap set by her father had been a misfortune, it had turned out to be the most valuable gift. He added a thank you for Elsa in his prayers that morning.

  She sat so attentively during the service that he doubted anyone would know she didn't understand much of what was being said. Often, he'd squeezed her hand and smiled to let her know she was pleasing him and that he was proud of her. When she turned to smile back at him, her green eyes sparkling, his heart gave an extra little beat.

  It was time.

  When they'd reached home, Rance helped her from the buggy, and held her seconds longer than ever before. When she looked up at him, he kissed her forehead. He kept telling himself to take it slow, but there was something about her that made him anxious to move faster. He wondered if she felt the same thrill as he did when they touched. He'd walked her to the steps of the porch and let her climb them ahead of him when, without warning, a shot rang out. He grabbed Elsa’s shoulders, pushed her down, and shielded her with his body. There were no more shots, but he felt a stinging in his left shoulder and he knew he’d been hit.

  “Elsa! Go!” he yelled, standing and pointing to the front door.

  She understood, dashed to the door, opened it, and stood inside, looking out at him with a worried look.

  Once he was sure she was safe, he stood and glanced all around the ranch, but didn’t see anyone. He owned six hundred acres and no one should be hunting on his property except him, but could the shot have come from a careless hunter?

  He went into the house, walked into the kitchen, and Elsa gasped at the sight of blood on his jacket. She pushed him into a chair, helped him remove the jacket, and quickly ripped the sleeve of his shirt, gasping at the ugly bullet hole in the fatty
part of his upper arm.

  Elsa made a tourniquet out of his torn sleeve and ran to the back of the house, to get Clara, he supposed.

  Clara rushed in, pulled rags from out of the cupboard, poured the hot water she always had on the stove into a pan, and handed it to Elsa. She then gave instructions to Elsa in German, ran out of the house, jumped into the buggy they’d just vacated, and sped toward town.

  As Elsa washed his wound, she said, in English, “Doctor. Clara bring doctor.”

  After cleansing his wound, she wrapped a clean cloth around his upper arm, pulling it tight.

  Pain shot up and down his arm, but he knew it wasn’t too serious of a wound. What bothered Rance most was not knowing who had shot at them. His first thought had been Emil.

  He grabbed Elsa’s hand and drew her close. “Emil?” he asked.

  She shrugged but had tears in her eyes, nevertheless.

  If it was Emil, she knew nothing about it. She appeared to be as shocked as he was.

  Rance pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her lightly on the lips, as if testing the waters. She smiled, which was all the incentive he needed. He kissed her passionately, which made him forget all about the pain in his arm. When he felt her arms wind around his neck, he didn’t ever want to break the kiss. While they were still kissing, he reached his good arm around her waist and held her even closer. The kiss was heavenly. He wished it were nighttime already, because he was more than ready to consummate the marriage. Finally, the kiss broke, and he held her to him until he could catch his breath.

  Elsa had been so frightened when she’d seen that Rance had been shot, and she’d feared it was Emil. Hadn’t he said something about 'till death do they part?’ She felt responsible as she nursed her husband’s wound. She knew it had to be Emil‒even Rance had guessed it.

  What should she do?