The New Year's Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book Two) (3 page)

Yes, she was pretty,
but there was more, so much more.  He could see it in her eyes, though she was obviously worn out from her trip, and sense it in the way she held herself.  There was determination in her eyes, and a fighting spirit.  As if no matter what, she was going to come out west and fight with everything she had to make this work out between them.  What man wouldn’t want a woman with that kind of spirit at his side?

But then she faltered and almost went
down
at his side.  He’d supported her by the elbows and gotten her to the hitching post.  He was prepared to lift her up to sit on it while he held her to him if need be.  Thankfully it hadn’t come to that … but … now that he thought on it, it would have been rather nice …

Spencer snorted one last time before he got his laughter under control.  His new bride ate with gusto and he discovered he liked it.  She wasn’t afraid to let him know what she needed though he was upset to find her in her current state, famished and faint.  When
was
the last time she’d eaten?  Spencer was determined to find out.  He knew his mother had sent plenty of money along for her to make the long journey out west.  Had she run into some sort of trouble along the way?  Had she been robbed?  Yet surely she would have told him so by now if she had.

“I’m sorry,” he began on a chuckle as he remembered his manners. “I’m not laughing at you, really I’m not.”

“If it were me, I’m sure I’d be laughing by now,” she said matter of fact.

He looked into her eyes that were much more alive then before.  The food had done her good.  “Have you had enough, or would you care to join me in a piece of pie?”

She delicately licked her lips and the action about sent Spencer through the roof.  He wasn’t made of wood after all, and no matter how he argued with himself over this whole mail order bride business, there was still a part of him that looked forward to the whole affair.  He was a healthy vibrant male full of life, strength, and … well suffice to say he needed a wife!

He took a deep breath to calm himself.  “Hank!  How about some pie?”

“Good Heavens!” Mrs. Riley suddenly exclaimed.  “Where on earth has Clayton been all this time?  Didn’t he say he’d join us?”

“He probably went back to the Sheriff’s office first, you know how he can’t stay away.” Spencer said, never once taking his eyes from his intended sitting next to him.

Mrs. Riley watched them and smiled.  “No matter, I’m sure he’ll eat something when we arrive home.  Shall we be on our way?”

“What about the pie?” he asked.

“Oh dear, I’d quite forgotten about that.”  No sooner had Mrs. Riley said it, Hank came back to the table with another tray laden with pie and coffee.  He laid it all out before them and Spencer watched as his bride-to-be looked at the dessert with a renewed gleam in her eye.

He couldn’t hide the mischievous side of him any longer.  “Tell me Miss Barstow, are you as good a
t cooking as you are at eating?”

She looked at him, her eyes aglow with something new.  Had he insulted her?  Did he just go too far?  Oh good grief, maybe it
was too soon to be teasing her!

“That Mr. Riley, you’ll just have to wai
t and find out.  And if say I
am
as good at cooking as I am at eating… well then, aren’t you the lucky one?”

Touché’.

Spencer smiled as Miss Barstow dug into her pie.  Mrs. Ridgley of the ‘Ridgley Mail Order Bride Service’ had indeed made good on her choice of a bride for one Spencer Riley.

Three

Finished with their lunch the three of them left Hank’s and headed back to the wagon.  Spencer was right. They found Clayton at the Sheriff’s office speaking with a man out front.  He was tall, dark, and dashingly handsome in a farm-boy sort of way, and Elle wondered how many other young men there were in Nowhere. Other girls would have to leave the orphanage.  Would Mrs. Ridgley send them here?

“Spencer,” Mrs. Riley began.  “Who is that talking with Clayton?”

“I have no idea.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.  He must be a stranger in town.”

Mrs. Riley peered at him a little closer.  “I don’t think he’s a stranger. If he was he wouldn’t look familiar to me.”

Spencer looked between his mother and the young man speaking with his brother.  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he said as he made his way across the street to the pair.

“Come along dear,” Mrs. Riley told Elle.  “Let’s find out who it is.”

Elle shrugged.  Either way, she was sure
she
didn’t know the man.  Not after just arriving in town herself.

“Ah, here he is!” Clayton said as Spencer hopped up onto the boardwalk. “This is Sheriff Riley.”

The stranger looked at the two brothers.  “Sheriff Hughes told me to report to Sheriff Riley, but I thought you were the Sheriff,” he said to Clayton.

“I gave it up, that’s wh
y uncle Harlan sent you our way,” Clayton told him.  “Good old Spence here is the newly appointed Sheriff in town.  You’ll work with him, not me.”

The handsome young man scratched the back of his head and looked Spencer over. “Well, if you say so.” He held his hand out to Spencer. “Deputy Thomas Turner reporting for duty, sir. Sheriff Hughes down at Clear Creek sent me.  Heard you were short handed.”

“Uncle Harlan sent you?”  Spencer asked.  “All the way up here?”

“Harlan sent you a deputy?” Mrs. Riley chimed in. 
“Well now, isn’t that nice.  I thought you looked familiar!  Why, I must have seen you the last time I went to visit my brother. What did you say your name was?”

“Thomas Turner
, ma’am.’”

“Thomas Turner, Thomas Turner,” she said to herself.  “Oh yes!  Now I remember you!  Your folks are farmer
s down that way.  Isn’t your mother’s name Mabel?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Elle watched and listened as Mrs. Riley managed to pull the young man aside and get caught up on all the happenings in a town called Clear Creek that was a few hundred miles to the south.  Her brother Harlan Hughes was the Sheriff there and when he found out Clayton was going back to apple farming and that Spencer was now Sheriff, he sent one of his deputies up to help out.

“We could have found a deputy here,” Spencer told Clayton while their mother continued to interrogate the young man for scraps of new
s and gossip from the other town.

“Well, you know how Uncle Harlan li
kes to help.  Besides, this will give Charlotte Davis someone new to chase.”  Clayton turned to Spencer and smiled. “Maybe then she’ll stay out of your hair and let you court Miss Barstow in peace for a few weeks.  That is still your plan isn’t it?”

Spencer looked to Elle who could hear every w
ord they said, but feigned interest in a horse across the street.  “Yes, that’s my plan.  Convincing mother of that is another story.  If she had her way, she’d have us married this afternoon.”

Clayton glanced to Elle, than slapped him on the back.  “Would that be so bad?”

Spencer rolled his eyes at his brother, left Thomas Turner to deal with his mother’s long string of questions, and went to stand next to Elle.  “Are you feeling better now?”

“Oh yes, quite.  Lunch was lovely.”

“Yes, all three courses.”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Courses?”

“Soup, the roast beef, dessert … you know. Courses.”

The truth was she didn’t know.  Growing up in the orphanage didn’t exactly consist of fancy dining.  She gave him a weak smile and nodded.  She had a lot to learn.  Which reminded her, “Do you have a telegraph office in town?”

“Yes, why?”

“I … ah … wanted to let Mrs. Ridgley know I
’ve arrived safely.”

“Oh yes, of course.  But w
e can take care of that later.  I’d like to see you home to the farm if you don’t mind.  It looks like I’ll need to come back into town and get Mr. Turner settled.”

She watched as Mrs. Riley grabbed the young man’s arm and dragged him back to where they stood. “Oh it’s just too wonderful the stories this young man has to tell!”

“Mother, we haven’t time.  I need to take you home now,” Spencer told her.

“Oh but Mr. Turner has been telling me all about the townsfolk of Clear Creek!”  She turned to Elle. “They have some very interesting folks living down there in that
little town.”

“Not now, ma.  Another time perhap
s,” Spencer told her then gave his attention to Mr. Turner.  “I’ll need to take the women home, but I’ll be back and we’ll talk about your position.”

“Yes, sir.” Thomas Turner said.  He then turned to Elle and Mrs. Riley, tipped his hat, and followed Clayton inside
the Sheriff’s office.

“Isn’t Clayton coming?” Mrs. Riley asked.

“He’ll have Mr. Turner fill out some paperwork, then get home about the time I have to come back.  Don’t worry ma, I’ll return in time for supper.”

“Oh
but Spencer, do you have to work this afternoon?  Miss Barstow just got here.”

“Don’t worry ma, I
expect to come home and try some of Miss Barstow’s cooking.  Maybe then she’ll tell me how she came to town with such an unnaturally healthy appetite.”

Elle blushed.  He wanted to know what happened to the money he sent Mrs. Ridgley.  But could she trust him enough to tell him what happened?  Would he lock her up in jail the moment he fo
und out?  No, best to wait to hear from Mrs. Ridgley first, then she’d do what she had to do.  What ever that was.

“I’m sure the last thing on Miss Barstow’s mind is cooking.  She’ll need to rest after such a long journey
.  Besides, Summer will have supper prepared in no time.”

Elle perked up at that.  “Summer?”

“Yes, dear. Summer is Clayton’s wife.”

Elle’s eyes widened.  Could it b
e? “Summer?” she couldn’t help but blurt.  “Her name wouldn’t happen to have been Summer James would it?”

“Why yes, but it’s Summer Riley now.”

“Oh my Lord!” Elle cried as both hands flew to her mouth. “Summer!” She quickly turned and in a very un-lady like move, all but leapt down the stairs of the boardwalk and ran for the wagon.

“Oh dear!” Mrs. Riley said.  “Did she just do what I think she did?”

“Think?  What, you don’t have eyes?” Spencer scolded. “Of course she did what you think she did!  You just watched her do it didn’t you?”

“Spencer, you’re making no sense,” his mother shot back as she lifted her sk
irts and made her way down stairs to the street.

Spencer watched her go then saw Miss Barstow climb up onto the wagon without any help at all.

“My, my,” a voice cooed from behind him. “Somebody’s bride is certainly in a hurry to get home.”

Spencer again rolled his eyes but not like he did whe
n Clayton joked with him.  No, this was out of pure annoyance.  He turned and looked down into the preening face of Charlotte Davis.  “Better hurry on home Spencer.  She looks like she’s ready to bust a gut she’s so excited.”

“Hello Charlotte,” Spencer said flatly. “I was just about to do that.”

“Do give my best to your brother,” she purred.

Spencer kept his eyes on her.  He didn’t dare give away the fact Clayton was just behind her inside the Sheriff’s office with their new deputy.  He wasn’t that cruel.  Everyone knew Charlotte still had it bad for Clayton.  It didn’t matter to her he was now married. She flirted with him every chance she got.  Of course, Charlotte flirted with everyone, but especially Clayton.  Spencer suddenly felt sorry for the new deputy.  The poor man had no ide
a what was coming the moment Charlotte set eyes on him.

He t
ipped his hat, hopped off the boardwalk and hurried across the street to the wagon.  He had more important things to worry about than Charlotte Davis.  For one, why did his future bride just leap off the boardwalk like some hellion?  Not to mention climb up onto the wagon like a monkey?  Just who was this woman?  And why did she get so excited about Clayton’s wife Summer all of the sudden?  Did the two of them know each other?

What other sorts of surprises did his future bride have in store for him?

Spencer Riley was about to find out.

* * *

No sooner had they gotten home and out of the wagon …

“Elle?”

“Summer!”

The two women looked the other over for a scant second before Elle launched herself at Summer Riley.

“Careful!” Spencer cried as he grabbed Elle’s arm to keep her from toppling them both over. “Summer’s had an injury!”

“Oh!” Elle exclaimed then looked Summer over a second time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“
Are you always this excitable?” Spencer asked as he shoved his hat off his forehead in relief.

“I’m sorry Mr. Riley, it’s just that…”

“Elle and I know each other,” Summer finished for her then threw her arms around her friend. “Oh how I’ve missed you!”  She let go of Elle and stepped back to study her.  “Mrs. Teeters?”

Elle smiled. “She’s well, and crankier than ever.”

“And the others, what of the others?”

“Which group?”

Summer’s smile faded. “Ours.”

Elle glanced to Spencer, then back to
Summer.  “I’ll tell you just as soon as I’m settled, and I want to hear all about your husband, the wedding, everything!”

Summer’s face brightened.  “All right, I’ll show you to your room.”  With a swish of skirts
Summer turned and limped into the house and down a hall.

“What happened?” Elle asked as she followed her, Spencer on her heels.

Summer stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. “Oh, it’s nothing really.”

“Nothing?” Spencer quipped.  “You call being shot nothing?”

“Shot?” Elle squeaked.

“Spencer, let’s not upset Elle after she just arrived,”
Summer told him calmly.

“You were shot?” Elle asked again.

“It was an accident.” Summer and Spencer said in unison.

Elle looked between the two, her attention finally settling on
Summer. “Who on Earth shot you?”

“Clayton,” she answered on a sigh, opened the door and went into the room.

“You were shot by your husband?”  Elle squeaked again, her voice rising up an entire octave.

“It was a
n accident!”  Spencer repeated, his own voice on the rise.

“Let’s not talk about it any more, I’ll explain later,”
Summer said. “Right now you should rest.  I remember what a long, exhausting journey it was coming out here from New Orleans.”

“Elle looked at her and their eyes locked.  She swallowed. “Yes, it was exhausting.  I could do with a few moments to myself.”

“Are you hungry?” Summer asked. “Can I fix you anything?”

Spencer began to chuckle.

Elle resisted the urge to glare at him and smiled instead.  “I’m fine.”  She was still going to have to explain why she ran out of money during her long journey, but first things first.  She really did need to rest.  She was incredibly tired all of a sudden and didn’t relish facing Spencer Riley or even Summer when the questioning started.  And they
would
have questions.  Both of them.  Spencer would ask about the money and Summer would ask about the other orphans.  Had any of them been adopted?  Who was next to leave?  Had she had any trouble getting out?  Summer had spoken to Elle before she embarked on her journey out west to become a mail order bride.  She also mentioned to her about the man called Mr. Slade and what his kind did with girls from the orphanage, that is, if they could get their hands on them. Mrs. Ridgley was trying to make sure such girls had an alternative to the streets of New Orleans.  Jobs were scarce in their world, protection from the likes of Mr. Slade practically non-existent. Too many of their lot had already fallen victim to the brothels and underground slave blocks at the hands of men just like him.

But Elle had a bigger problem.  Sure, she’d left Mr. Slade behind in New Orleans, but did she also leave
behind a dead man?  And if so, was it only a matter of time before the law caught up to her?  Wouldn’t it be better if she turned herself in?  Of course, the only problem with that was, she was supposed to marry the very man she would have to turn herself in to.