Conner's Contrary Bride

by Barbara Goss

  “Now, what can I do for you newlyweds?” Babcock asked in a husky voice that fit his looks.

  Conner spoke first. “My wife left her small town in West Virginia because her stepfather had attacked her. She took refuge with a widow who took her under her wing. Now, the monster has terrorized this woman into telling him where Elsie has gone, and he threatened to come after her. We want you to be on the lookout for the man. His name is Frank Timmons, and he’s a big hairy ape of a man as Elsie described him to me.”

  The sheriff leaned back in his chair. He looked at Elsie. “Can you describe this Timmons man?”

  “He’s as tall as Conner but much larger in the shoulders and he has a rather pot belly. He’s bald except for a rim of brown hair around the side of his head. And as my husband said, he’s quite hairy everywhere except on his head.”

  “Any scars or noticeable features?”

  Elsie tapped her chin. “He has a tattoo on his left arm of a bird...an eagle, I think.”

  “What happened back in West Virginia, exactly?”

  Elsie blushed and looked up at Conner.

  Conner spoke for her. “When he attacked Elsie, she got away by kicking him in the groin. She ran, but he followed her. Elsie said that because he tripped, it gave her a good head start. That was the last time she saw him. And she’s quite worried.”

  After hearing Conner, Elsie’s courage strengthened, and she spoke up. “You see, I also saw him push my mother down the stairs, and she died from a broken neck. I was hiding under my bed, but I saw it through a crack in the door. He got away with it by saying that she fell on her own.”

  “Frank Timmons, eh?” The sheriff made notes as they spoke. “Does he know that you saw him murder your mother?”

  Elsie cast her eyes downward. She knew that telling Frank had been a big mistake, but once again, her temper had gotten the best of her. Elsie nodded in reply.

  “So, we’re looking for a murderer as well. He has a good reason to want to find you, ma’am.” He made more notes on the paper. “I’ll telegraph some of the other sheriffs with his description, too. If he’s coming all the way from West Virginia, it could take him a while to get here.” He looked at Elsie. “Do you think he could afford to take a train?”

  Elsie knew he couldn’t since he always drank up every penny he had earned. “No, sir. He’d probably try to ride here on his horse, stopping at every saloon on the way.”

  Sheriff Babcock let out a roaring laugh. “Then, don’t worry. He’ll most likely get killed in a saloon fight before he makes it near Hays City, but just in case, we’ll be waiting for him.”

  Elsie let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  Conner asked her, “Would he take a stagecoach?”

  “He works in a coal mine, and if he didn’t drink all of his pay, he might pay for a stage, especially if he rode on the roof since it’s cheaper. I could refuse that option since I had enough money, thanks to Conner.”

  The sheriff stood, signaling that the meeting was over, so Conner and Elsie rose too. He walked them to the door and reassured them he’d be on the lookout for Frank.

  Conner puzzled Elsie. When she’d read Mae’s letter and trembled, he’d gone immediately to her side, and he hadn’t hesitated to put his arms around her to pull her close, but now, he was the same cool, distant Conner. She’d hoped they’d crossed a bridge that would help span their awkwardness with each other the other day.

  Spring was unseasonably hot that year, making the clinic warm and humid, causing Elsie to use her paper fan when she could. They were seeing many children in for falls and scrapes. The school was out for the season, and they had at least two children for patients nearly every day. While treating the children, Elsie wondered if she’d ever have any. She loved children, but it wasn’t a subject she felt comfortable discussing with Conner. He seemed professional and kind with the children patients, but she wasn’t sure if he ever thought about having them. He’d never have any if he continued to be so cool with her, but she felt ready to move their relationship up a notch or two.

  Conner and Elsie were cleaning up after a busy day and were preparing to close the clinic for the day when some men on horses galloped up to the clinic and came storming in.

  “Doc, my brother here’s been shot.”

  Conner patted the closest bed, as cool as ever. “Bring him over.”

  The two other men half-walked, half-carried the man whose chest was bloody and his face looked pale as death. Elsie knew enough from working in the clinic it didn’t look good.

  Once on the bed, Conner ripped the man’s shirt open to examine the wound, while the other two watched anxiously.

  “The bullet,” Conner told them, “is near the heart. I know it couldn’t have hit his heart, or he’d be dead by now. The bad news is I must operate to remove the bullet, and being so close to the heart, it’s a dangerous procedure.”

  “Well,” the tallest of the scruffy men said, “we’ll take your assistant here, as collateral.” The man grabbed Elsie and held her in front of him. “If Mac dies, we kill her.” The man held a knife to Elsie’s throat. “So, you’d better make sure my brother lives.”

  Elsie trembled in fear. The man’s hands were rough, and her arms hurt from his grip on her as he held the icy blade of his knife to her throat. She hadn’t prayed in years, but what else could a human in trouble do but pray? If there was a God, He’d help her. She thought about what she’d gleaned from the Sunday sermons that she’d pretended not to hear. She could still recall Reverend McDougal once say something like, “I will protect him who acknowledges my name.”

  Conner cut into the man’s chest, and she prayed, “God, I have never acknowledged you, but I’ve been rethinking things lately. Conner is an intelligent man, and not only does he acknowledge you, but he loves you. I’d like that, too, and not just because I’m in deep trouble but because I’ve grown closer to you by each of Reverend McDougal’s sermons, and I’m asking You for help. Please don’t let the patient die. Amen.”

  The surgery took a long time, so the men took some seats. The one who was holding her let her sit in the chair beside him, but he still kept the knife to her throat.

  Elsie watched Conner stop to wipe his brow continuously. Was it the warmth of the afternoon or was he nervous? He glanced her way a few times but gave her no clue as to his status with his patient.

  Finally, she saw Conner drop something into a metal cup with a loud clink. “I got the bullet out,” he said, “but we’re not out of the woods just yet.”

  Elsie felt the man tighten his hold on the knife at her throat. “Ya’d better pray he makes it, Doc,” the man said.

  Conner sewed up the wound and then beat on the man’s chest. “His heart has stopped,” Conner cried as he kept pounding.

  Elsie felt faint. If the man died, so would she.

  Conner worked on the man until he finally relaxed and plopped down on a chair near the patient. “He’s breathing, and his heart is beating.”

  Elsie thought they were the best words she’d ever heard, and she silently thanked the God whom she’d ignored her whole life.

  “Can we put him on a horse?” the man who was holding her asked.

  “No,” Conner told him. “We can’t move this man for a few days yet. He actually died for a few minutes. The injury bruised his heart.”

  The man who wasn’t holding the knife stood. “So, he has to stay here?”

  Conner walked to the sink and poured water from the bucket on his hands. “If you want him to live.”

  The man who was holding the knife to her throat tightened his hold on her. “If he dies, she dies.”

  Conner dried his hands and walked over to them. “Look, I’m the doctor, not this woman. Kill me if he dies. She has nothing to do with it.”

  “Who is she to you that you care so much?” the tall one asked.

  Conner looked at Elsie and said, “She’s just my hired assistant.”

  The man with the knife put it
back into his sheath. “All right, Doc. If he dies, you die.” He turned to Elsie and said, “You can leave now.”

  “Wait!” The other man blocked the door. “Are you crazy, Gus? She’ll go get the sheriff. He’ll know how and why Mac got himself shot.”

  “How’s he gonna know that, Pete?”

  “He knows the bank was robbed today, and he is probably pretty sure he shot one of us, so when he comes here, he’ll know we was the ones that done it.”

  Gus scratched his head. “I guess yer right.” Gus grabbed Elsie by her shoulder and plopped her down in the chair. “Looks like you get to live, but I can’t let you leave.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Elsie saw Bertie peek in from the kitchen. She brought a finger to her mouth to warn Bertie, who caught the warning and closed the door quietly.

  “We haven’t had our dinner yet,” Elsie said. “I’d be happy to go into the kitchen and rustle us up a quick meal.”

  “Good idea,” Gus said, “but one of us will have to go with you.”

  Elsie strained to come up with a reason why they didn’t need to go with her. She finally blurted, “There’s a backdoor off the laundry room. That’s the only way out besides this clinic door. One of you men could stand outside the backdoor to make sure I don’t run out.”

  The men looked at each other as if trying to decide what to do.

  “I think Conner put a roast in the oven earlier. I know I’m hungry,” she added.

  Gus ordered Pete to stand outside the backdoor and then nodded at Elsie. “Be quick about it.”

  Once in the kitchen, Elsie pulled Bertie into the sitting room to explain the situation.

  “I think it’s best if you stay out of sight until I serve them dinner. Then, I think you should run down to the sheriff’s office and bring him here. Use the backdoor.”

  “All right,” Bertie said. “I’ll hide in your room. There’s a ham in the oven and—”

  “I’ll find everything, just go—quickly.”

  Bertie ran into the room that was now Elsie’s, while Elsie went into the kitchen and dished up a plate of ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, and squash for each of them. It took her three trips, but she finally brought all the food out to the clinic.

  Gus called Pete back inside, and the men gobbled down their meals. Conner ate, but he checked on his patient frequently. Elsie could tell by the look on Conner’s face the situation worried him.

  She collected the empty plates, took them into the kitchen with one of them following her, and returned to the clinic, hoping to see Sheriff Babcock storm in at any moment.

  Chapter Eight

  Elsie fidgeted as she waited for Babcock to burst through the door to arrest the men, but nothing happened. Didn’t Bertie go to the sheriff’s office? Maybe she did, and the sheriff hadn’t been there. Something was wrong. She watched Conner fuss over the patient—his forehead creased with concern. Elsie remembered how he’d asked the men to take him instead of her if their partner had died.

  What an honorable thing to say. It warmed her heart, but cooled when she thought about what might happen if the man died. Conner dead? It made her realize how much she cared for him. Despite his cool manner, he was an upstanding and moral man. Were all church-goers like him? Was believing in God what made him so kind?

  The sheriff didn’t rush into the clinic as Elsie had imagined. Instead, he walked in casually, stood in the doorway, and said, “Looks like you two are busy tonight. I rarely see the clinic lights on so late, so I thought I’d check and make sure everything was all right.”

  Conner nodded at the patient. “This man is in a delicate condition.”

  The sheriff walked over to where the patient was lying, putting his back to the other two men who were still sitting against the wall. Then, he turned, quick as lightning with his gun out and pointed it at the men.

  “Drop your gun belts!” he ordered. When the gun belts hit the floor, Babcock said, “The knife and sheath, too.” The knife in its sheath hit the floor. “Can you kick those weapons into the corner, Mrs. Van Gates?”

  Elsie did as he’d instructed. She noted that it was the first time anyone had addressed her as such, and it sounded so wonderful she smiled, despite the situation.

  In his thundering voice, Babcock ordered, “Now, put your hands behind your heads.” When the men complied, he walked over, took the roll of rope from his belt, and tied the men’s hands behind them.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “And I want to know where the money from the bank robbery is, too.”

  Before leaving with his prisoners, Babcock turned to Conner. “You can keep that man here until he’s well enough to join his friends. Is he armed?”

  Conner lifted the sheet covering the man, removed his gun belt, and checked his boots for other weapons. “He’s clean, now.”

  “I’ll come back tomorrow for their gun belts and the knife.” With that, Babcock tipped his wide-brimmed hat, and said, “Goodnight.”

  As soon as they’d gone, Elsie moved to Conner’s side near the unconscious bandit. He put his arms out, and she flew into them.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I am now,” she whispered.

  He tightened his hold on her. “You’re very brave, Elsie. How did you fetch the sheriff?”

  “When I went in to get the food, I told Bertie to go out the backdoor after the men had eaten and bring him back. I thought Babcock would never get here.”

  “We’ll have to thank Bertie.”

  Bertie poked her head through the door connecting the clinic to the house. “Did I hear my name?”

  “Thank you for getting the sheriff,” Conner said.

  “It was all Elsie’s idea. Trouble was, the sheriff was out of the office for supper. I looked for him at the eatery, but he wasn’t there, so I had to go to the hotel dining room, and there he was, calmly finishing his supper while I told him what was going on. He was so calm about it.”

  “Well,” Bertie said, “I have to finish washing up these dishes, then I’m off to bed. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.” She closed the door.

  Elsie sighed. “I think I’ll do the same. Will the patient be all right?”

  “I think he’ll live. I had to put him under to operate, and I’m fairly sure he’ll sleep all night. Even if he wakens, I doubt he’ll go far in his condition, so, I’m going to bed, too.” He took her arm. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

  When they reached Elsie’s room, Conner thanked her for helping.

  Elsie had so much respect for the man. When he’d told the bandits to take him instead of her, it had melted her heart. He was one of the humblest, kindest, and the most handsome man she’d ever known. She got a thrill whenever he was near her, and she thought she just might be in love with her husband.

  “Did you mean it when you told the bandits to take you instead of me?”

  “I did. There are more ways they could harm you than me. Besides, they’d need me to keep their brother—or friend, whoever he is—alive.”

  Elsie smiled up at him. “It was the noblest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you.”

  Conner gave her a half-smile, said, “Goodnight, Elsie. Sleep well,” and he turned and walked into the room across the hall.

  Elsie didn’t knit or crochet. She undressed, washed in the basin Bertie always left for her, put on her nightgown, crawled into bed, and wondered how one went about thanking God—if there was one—for saving them. She blew out her lamp, folded her hands, and whispered, “God, if You’re there, thank You. You can’t blame me for doubting You’re real since I’ve always thought You weren’t there for me while I was growing up, but I feel strongly that You were there for me today. Is it because I’m going to church now? It really isn’t that bad, and I’ve been listening to the preacher, but I faked the praying. I guess I didn’t know what to say. If You are real, could you make Conner and me a real married couple? I want to be his wife in every way... You know what I mean, right?” Elsi
e chuckled. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m supposed to ask You questions. I wish I could because I have a lot of them. For now, I just want to be Conner’s wife in every way. Thank You, God.”

  Conner woke up early to check on his patient, who had awakened and was moaning in pain. “Easy,” Conner said as he rubbed the man’s shoulder with compassion. “What’s your name?”

  “Robert MacDonald, but everyone calls me Mac.”

  “Are you in pain, Mac?”

  “Hel—Heck, yeah.” Conner knew he’d been about to say something else, but he saw Bertie walk into the clinic.

  Conner examined his wound and changed the bandage. “If you can stand the pain, I’ll let you rest, otherwise, I’ll give you something to take the pain away, but I warn you, it will knock you out for the rest of the day.”

  “I don’t reckon I’ll be leaving soon anyway, so give me the stuff for pain. Before you do, though, where’d my brothers go?”

  “The sheriff stopped by, recognized them, and took them to jail. You’re safe enough here, at least until you’re well enough to join them,” Conner said.

  Mac sighed. “Give me the pain medicine, then.”

  Conner gave the man a shot and then turned to Bertie. “What is it, Bertie?”

  “Elsie’s eating breakfast, and she’s wondering if you’ve eaten yet. I told her you hadn’t, and she’d like for you to join her.”

  Conner joined Elsie at the kitchen table. “How did you sleep?”

  “Like a baby. I didn’t even stay up to knit.”

  “Remember that I promised to take you to look at some land? How about we go out today? The banker told me there were two nice parcels for sale.”

  Elsie gave him the smile a kid wears on Christmas morning. “I’d love to! Can we walk there, or do we need the buggy?”

  “The buggy, I think. It’s not far, but it’s a rough, dusty walk. They’re small lots that most folks in Hays City don’t want since there aren’t enough acres to farm or raise cattle, sheep, or pigs, but we won’t be doing any of those things. I’d like a nice yard, though, enough for a vegetable garden.”