A Bride for Tobias

by Linda Ellen

  “Deputy Keller?”

  He shook himself and turned his head to find the voice’s owner. It was Dave. Smirking. Toby had a feeling he had called his name more than once, but Toby’s mind had been otherwise occupied—and it was glaringly obvious. Chuckles reverberated around the table.

  Clearing his throat, he reached up and tugged at his neckerchief. “Yeah, Sheriff?”

  “You about done? I want to go over things with the constable before we get the show on the road. We’ll be leaving on the nine o’clock train. See you at the office.”

  He gave a nod as his boss turned and headed toward the door.

  “Will the trip be dangerous?” a sweet voice asked from his immediate left.

  He turned, noting Pauline’s concerned scrutiny and he corralled his thoughts enough to think about her question. It should be a straight, by-the-book, routine prisoner escort. It’s not as if Hobbs was a wild, rabid killer. On his own, two lawmen would be plenty. The threat came from the unknown question of whether any of Hobbs’ gang had heard he had been arrested, and if they might try anything. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

  Now, he smiled into Pauline’s worried, brown eyes. “It shouldn’t be. We’ll take every precaution.” Then as her brow furrowed and her eyes searched his, he added softly, “Don’t worry.”

  He saw her swallow and answer with an affirmative move of her head. “I know you’re good at your job. I just…I don’t…” she paused and he smiled again, leaning over to press his lips to her cheek and let them linger there, as he understood what she wasn’t saying. Somehow, knowing that she would be concerned about him while he was performing his duties, filled him with a satisfied warmth he’d never quite felt before.

  Several minutes later, Tobias finished his breakfast and excused himself from the table. He bent down and gave Pauline a goodbye kiss, taking his time, as if softly memorizing her lips. She closed her eyes and brought up one hand to gently caress his neatly trimmed beard and mustache as she enjoyed his farewell.

  “See you later,” he promised before bidding everyone else adieu. Then, he headed for the door, grabbing his hat on the way out.

  Pauline watched until the door shut behind him, and then turned back to her plate.

  “Look at that big smile.”

  At John Lawson’s comment, Pauline looked up from her last bite of blueberry hotcakes to find everyone at the table grinning at her. She felt her face immediately infuse with crimson.

  “So…you and the hubby are getting along quite well, I see,” Monroe Haggler said with a chuckle. Pauline blushed even more remembering the man opening his door the night before to find her and Tobias in the act of a very thorough kiss.

  “Yeah…think you might be staying here in Brownville?” Henry Mester asked with mild interest.

  “Looks like you two are a match made in heaven, if you ask me,” Iris crooned, her countenance a large grin and misty, wistful eyes.

  Pauline wasn’t sure what to say. What she wanted to say was, “YES! Yes, I’m staying here in Brownville, as a true wife to Tobias! Yes, yes, yes!” But she clamped her mouth shut. Although Tobias had kissed her—and oh my merciful heavens, had he ever, and she had kissed him back, thank-you-very-much—he hadn’t said what he was feeling for her.

  Her mother had always cautioned that a girl should never forget that a man didn’t need to be romantically or emotionally involved with a woman in order for him to…well…want her. If she’d heard it once, she’d heard it a thousand times—men were guided by their physical hungers more than their emotions. After all—isn’t that one reason why the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?

  Well, be that as it may, right now she was feeling some pretty strong physical hungers for Tobias, as well as having her heart engaged. She knew it now. She had fallen for him. Completely, utterly, supremely, bonnet-over-boots in love! So much so that the thought of leaving him to go back to Louisville when her family gave her the all-clear was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

  But…what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he doesn’t want to be…well…married till death do us part. Yes, he’s giving her kisses. He smiles at her with affection in his eyes. He’s sweet, caring, polite, and wonderful whenever he’s with her. But he hadn’t come right out and asked her to stay. He hadn’t said those three magic little words that her heart so desperately needed to hear.

  What if he never did?

  What if he found himself physically attracted, but his heart wasn’t quite as captivated as hers…

  What if she gets the telegram from Dwight, and Tobias just stands there mute without saying a word? Would she have the boldness to ask him if he wanted her to stay?

  Aggh. Enough!

  The same line of thoughts had been chasing one another around and around in her mind all night like marbles in a bowl.

  She shook her head and placed both hands, palms down, on the table.

  Determinedly, she pushed up from her chair and set about gathering her reticule, shawl, and other items. School would start in twenty minutes, and she didn’t want to be late.

  Soon, she and Milton Hicks were walking down the street idly chatting about the rigors of teaching. At the corner, with a tip of his hat and a polite wish for her to have a nice day, he turned to head toward the large secondary school up on the hill while she continued on down to Main Street to the two-room grammar school building.

  As she approached, she admired the look of the school, painted stark white with red trim all along its good-sized windows and doors.

  She reached the building and smiled at Martha coming from the other direction with several early birds at her side.

  “Good morning,” Martha waved before ushering the children over to the school yard until she was ready to ring the bell to start class.

  They climbed the steps of the covered front porch together, exchanging morning pleasantries, and went inside.

  “Hmm, Annabel seems to be running late this morning,” Martha commented as the two came into the wide cloakroom that spanned the front of the building and glanced over at the right side. The right-hand interior door was closed and darkness was evident through its glass panes, as if the window shutters were still fastened.

  “That’s not like her. She’s always early,” the older teacher mused as she unlocked the left side and she and Pauline went in, opened the shutters on the two windows, and set about wiping the blackboards to make preparations for that day’s lessons.

  Pauline glanced over at the connecting door that they shared between the two rooms. A gloom was, indeed, visible through the glass. She whispered a quick prayer that the other teacher wasn’t sick. If so, she and Martha would have to handle both classes…

  A few minutes later, several of Miss Annabel’s students arrived, but finding the other classroom locked, they began to shuffle into Martha’s.

  “Good morning Andy, Jarrod, Henry,” Martha greeted the students, all of whom she had taught in previous years. “Miss Annabel seems to be running a bit late, but I’m sure she will be here shortly.”

  The boys answered with grins and ran back outside to toss a ball for the few more minutes left until the start of the day.

  Soon, another voice inquired from the doorway, “Morning, Miss Martha. Hey Pauline,” Tad Shoup called to them with a wide grin. “Miss Annabel isn’t here yet?”

  Pauline and Martha exchanged amused glances. “No, Tad, she isn’t,” Martha answered.

  “Well, could I go on in? I’m supposed to wash the boards in the mornings and I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “All right,” Martha nodded in the direction of the other room.

  Pauline was busy writing an assignment on the chalkboard when a commotion sounded near the front.

  Tad had reached the door between the two rooms, but before he could open it, the morning’s tranquility was shattered into chaos as the door was yanked open from the inside. Startled, Martha let out a squeal and hurried toward Tad, who h
ad stepped back with a squawk of surprise.

  Everything seemed to happen at once. Four men, their faces covered with bandanas, charged into the room like hornets in retaliation of a kicked nest. One of them had a vicelike hold on Miss Annabel, who was gagged with her hands tied behind her back. Her eyes, behind a smallish pair of wire-rimmed glasses, were like dark pools of fear. Several children came in through the cloakroom door at that moment and began screaming in terror, including Pauline as it was all so jarringly unexpected.

  However, she quickly scrambled to harness her own fear in order to comfort her charges. The rest of the children out in the school yard heard the commotion and came running in, adding to the cacophony and confusion.

  Martha tried to scurry away and drag Tad along, but one of the men charged at her, brusquely grabbing her arms from behind as she cried out in startled pain, while another made a beeline toward Pauline. Tad tried to stop him, but he merely shoved the boy down on the floor in his haste to reach her.

  Her own eyes wide with terror, Pauline looked into the man’s eyes that were a cold, steel gray above his tightly tied mask. Before she could get away, he reached out and grabbed her from behind as the other man had done to Martha.

  Meanwhile, the fourth man began issuing orders. “All you stinkin’ kids, sit over there on the floor against the wall, and keep your traps shut!”

  When the youngsters didn’t instantly obey, he bellowed, “Move it! Now! And stop that squealin’ like stuck pigs, or I’ll give you all somethin’ to squeal about!”

  Whimpering, the girls trembled and wiped away their tears, clinging to one another as they complied with his orders. Scrambling over to the wall, they huddled together on the floor, the older ones doing their best to comfort the youngest.

  “Wh…what do you want?” Pauline tentatively asked, although she had a good idea what they wanted and who they were. Tobias had shared with her a bit of information about the gang of which the man named Hobbs was reportedly a member. Silently, Pauline racked her brain to remember names. They were odd names…Plumb Hobbs, Ezra Beebe…Thomas something. Others named Loomis…Grove? Wheeler? Dino? She wondered who these four were and if more were hiding somewhere in the town.

  Simultaneous jolts slammed her brain—Hobbs, being taken from the jail to board the train…Tobias possibly in the line of fire. A cold sweat broke out along her back and a terror threatened to overwhelm her good sense. For a split second, she entertained the thought of wrenching away from the outlaw who held her and attempting to take off running to warn Tobias and the other lawmen.

  As if the man—who stunk of horseflesh, sweat, and strong cigars, even through the mask—heard her thoughts, he sneered next to her ear. “Don’t even think of trying to get loose and warn your deputy husband…Mrs. Keller.”

  God in Heaven! He knows who I am…and he knows Tobias. He probably knows Tobias is the one who tracked and captured Hobbs.

  On the heels of that thought, the outlaw confirmed it. “All the stupid local yokels over at the Lucky Buck braggin’ about what a dang hero the deputy is. I say he had no cause to drag Hobbs back here and arrest him like he done. It ain’t like he killed that girl.” Swearing rudely, he added a nasty term for girls like her and that they were two bits a dozen and not worth such fuss. “Hobbs is a friend of mine. I take that kind a thing personal.”

  Meanwhile, across the room, the fourth man, who seemed to be in charge, yelled, “Everybody shut up and listen. This is the way it’s gonna be. All we want is our friend outta the jail. We get him, you all go free. We don’t get him…well, you won’t like the outcome.”

  Annabel’s eyes first sought out Martha’s and then Pauline’s, clearly displaying the message that the men meant what they said and they weren’t bluffing.

  Then, the outlaw looked around the room at his captive audience full of wide, tear-filled eyes, and he walked over to a boy of about ten. Pauline knew the child; he was the older brother of a girl in her class. The man yanked him up by his arm and the younger sister gave a yelp and blurted, “Don’t hurt my brother!” but quickly slapped both hands on her mouth as all the men swung irritated glares her way.

  “What’s your name, boy?” the fourth man demanded.

  The child, trembling in fear, swallowed and stuttered, “P…Peter. P…Peter H…Holladay.”

  The rude man snickered. “Well, P…Peter. You’re gonna do somethin’ for me. You know where the jail is?”

  The boy bobbed his head. “Y…yessir.”

  “Good. Take ‘em a message.”

  Toby wondered if the small jail had ever been so full of lawmen at one time.

  With a snicker, he managed to snag the last cup of Sheriff Dave’s delicious coffee, put the pot to one side, and turned to observe the deputies standing around the desk. Each man was dressed similarly, boots, pants, square-collared shirts, vests…shiny stars. Toby felt right at home.

  “Constable Filkins, since you are the senior lawman here, I’m going to turn this meeting over to you. What’s your plans, sir?”

  The older man cleared his throat and looked around at the assembled men.

  “Well, I’d say the plan is pretty basic. Several of you men will take a turn around the town to make sure everything looks shipshape. Then, when we hear the whistle that the train’s arrived, we’ll take Hobbs out of his cell and escort him onboard, not that the Ft. Kearny and Pacific is too happy about that,” he added with a chuckle.

  Sheriff Dave gave a nod and pulled out his watch. “We’ve got about an hour. She’s usually right on time.” Closing the watch with a snap, he looked around the room.

  “Phil, Keith, Toby, you three go on out and make the rounds. Make sure nothing—and I mean nothing, looks out of place. Question any strangers you see out and about. Then when you’re done, come ba—” he stopped as they all heard fast moving steps pounding down the boardwalk just seconds before the door burst open.

  Several deputies drew their guns, but stopped in the nick of time when they all realized it was just a boy of about ten, heaving in great gulps of air where he stood on the threshold. The boy had jolted to a halt when he saw guns aimed his way.

  Dave moved forward through the throng and bent over to be at eye level with the boy. “Peter? What’s wrong, son?”

  Toby was suddenly hit with a very bad feeling. He put down his cup and moved a few steps closer as the liquid he had consumed, as well as the breakfast he’d eaten just thirty minutes before, began to sour in his gut. His pulse sped up. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Very wrong. Matter of fact, something had been niggling at the back of his mind since he’d stepped out of the boarding house earlier, but he’d pushed it aside. Truthfully…he’d been distracted. A distracted deputy is a dead deputy!

  The boy kept gulping in air from having run at full speed all the way down the street, and the sheriff reached out and placed both hands on his scrawny shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Peter. Just relax now. Tell me what’s got you upset. Is someone hurt?”

  The boy shook his head, his eyes wide, and stuttered, “N…no sir…least I don’ think so…”

  The constable stepped forward, concerned. “What is it, son? Spit it out.”

  The boy took one last big breath and blurted, “Four men, in the schoolhouse. They’re holdin’ Miss Annabel and Miss Martha…and that n…new teacher, Miss Pauline!”

  Toby felt ice shoot through his veins like a double-barrel shotgun, followed immediately by red-hot anger.

  They’ve got Pauline!

  He made to dash out the door, but Dave grabbed his arm and stopped him cold.

  “Hold on there, man. Don’t go runnin’ over there halfcocked. That’s just what they want.”

  The boy nodded vigorously and piped up, “They know Miss Pauline’s your wife, Mr. Toby! The man that twisted her arms behind her—I heard him say that outlaw you caught is his friend!”

  Heart thundering, bile rose in Toby’s throat, and it was all he could do to swallow
it back down. The man knew who she was…that means he knew he had tracked and apprehended Hobbs… He was holding her, physically, with her arms twisted behind her…Oh my God…

  “Lemme go,” he growled at Dave, yanking at his arm that was still firmly in the sheriff’s grip. “They’ve got my wife! They’ve got Pauline!”

  “I know that, Tobias! But I ain’t gonna let ‘em get you, too!” Dave shouted in his face to shock him into attention as two of the other deputies grasped onto Toby for good measure. “Now, son, you just calm down and think like a deputy trained by Hampton Gibson, or I swear I’ll lock you up back there in one of those cells. I mean that, don’t you try me!”

  Nearly hyperventilating, Toby nevertheless did his best to rein in his rioting emotions. Tormenting images of Pauline, tears streaming as an exaggeratingly evil man twisted her arms and laughed, rolled across his mind. Why didn’t we take more precautions? How did we let the gang get so far into town that they could commandeer the school?

  The boy, Peter, tugged on Dave’s vest. Dave looked down and saw a slip of paper in the boy’s hand. “The m…man said to give this to you.”

  Toby’s heart skipped and he swallowed hard as Dave let him go and took the paper from the boy’s grip. Unfolding it, he read out loud, “Hobbs for the women and kids. You won’t like what happens if he gets on that train.”

  “Son of a—,” he bit off the angry word and grumbled, his eyes sweeping around to collide with every other pair in the room.

  “Okay boys, change in plans.”

  Chapter 13

  P auline warily eyed the three men. Two were stationed at the windows, keeping watch as the head man watched them, and, all the while, a fourth brute was positioned in the other classroom of the large, two-room schoolhouse.

  Turning her head, her worried eyes connected with Martha’s and they shared small, nervous smiles, trying to encourage one another.

  Annabel had set about comforting the girls in her class as soon as the outlaws had, mercifully, untied her hands and removed the gag. When Annabel raised her head and acknowledged her concerned attention, Pauline saw a woman most people would categorize as the poor, spinster schoolteacher—complete with reddish hair twisted up in a now-unkempt bun and wire-rim glasses. The woman’s dowdy dress only helped to cement the image. But Pauline saw past her exterior to a warm, caring educator who loved each of her pupils as if they were her own.