Chase (Prairie Grooms, Book Four)

by Kit Morgan

“We'd best join the others for tea,” announced Apple as she shoved her way past them and continued down the boardwalk.

  “Is your sister always so impulsive?” asked Chase.

  Lena let out a heavy sigh. “Always,” came out a groan.

  “Shall we then?” he said as he waved his hand after Apple.

  “Yes,” she said. “After all, I can always do with a spot tea.”

  * * *

  They'd barely reached the hotel when Constance came rushing out. “Chase!” she cried. “Did you see him? Did you see Cutty?”

  Chase let go of Lena's arm and grabbed Constance before she could run past him. “Hold on there,” he told her as he swung her around to face him. “You'd best stay here until your husband gets back to town. Let him be the one to identify the man.”

  “He's not dead is he?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  “No ma'am, but he's been through a lot, and he doesn't look good at all.” He glanced at each of the women in turn. “Now I don't know how tough you ladies seem to think you are, but if it were left up to me, none of ya would see him. Not yet anyway.”

  Constance put her hands to her mouth as she gasped. “Is he that bad?”

  “Yes ma'am, I’m afraid so,” he said. “Now why don't you go back inside and get re-acquainted with your cousins. As soon as I see any sign of Ryder, I’ll come fetch ya.”

  Constance looked at Lena and Apple. “I'm so sorry, where are my manners?” She grabbed Lena to her in a fierce hug. “It's good to see you Cousin. It's been so long.” She released her and turned to Apple. “You've grown up.”

  Apple looked at herself and brushed the skirt of dress. “We all do.”

  Lena took Constance by the arm. “Come along, let's go inside and talk.”

  She looked over her shoulder at Chase, with what he swore was a look of longing. It made his heart race. He tipped his hat, then crossed the street as the women went into the hotel. Sheriff Hughes stopped him. “Some of the boys ran their horses pretty hard out there, son. Looks like we’re gonna keep you busy for a few days.”

  “Did Ryder and Seth return with you?”

  “No, they stopped off at Ryder’s place to see what supplies they might be needin’ when he takes his wife home.”

  “I bet you're mad as a rattler comin’ back to town empty-handed. I'm sorry you didn’t have much luck out there.”

  “I've had better weeks, I’ll attest to that. I see we’ve had some additions to our fair town while we were gone,” he said as he nodded toward the hotel.

  Chase smiled and followed his gaze. ‘That we do Sheriff,” he said. “And they're very pretty.”

  The sheriff let go a heavy sigh. “Poor Sam never even got to lay eyes on his new bride. Blasted shame that.” He shook his head, his eyes full of sadness. “Poor little thing he left behind is probably fretting somethin’ awful.”

  “I don't know about that,” said Chase with a chuckle. “She seems to have recovered from the shock quite well.”

  “Resilient,” commented the sheriff. “That's the kind of women we need out here. I'm sure Sadie Cooke will find a replacement in no time.” He slapped Chase on the back, turned, and headed back toward his office.

  Chase watched him go a moment then went to the livery stable. Horses already occupied three out of six stalls. Chase took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and set to work. From the looks of it, each horse had lost a shoe. As he led the first horse out of its stall, he wondered what Lena and the others were doing at the hotel. He kept bringing to mind the look on her face, the one that told him, don't go, stay with me and talk a while… He began to wonder how he was going to manage that with all the work he had now. Almost a dozen men had returned, and more would be coming. He'd end up working on at least half of their mounts, considering the rough terrain they'd been in. How was he to manage going out to the Triple C with this much work? When would he have a chance to see Lena?

  “Ah, there’s a good lad. I see you’re taking care o’ Grady first.” Chase looked up from the hoof he'd been working on and grinned as Bran O’Hare entered the livery. “Hello Deputy,” he said. “Where'd Grady lose his shoe?”

  “Comin’ back down the ridge, which is lucky. Poor Henry's horse lost his going up.”

  Chase released the horse’s leg and stood. “Shame that,” he said. “The way Henry came riding into town earlier, I wouldn’t doubt if his horse is lame by now.”

  “Got the job done,” said the deputy. “Transporting that man in a wagon was sure quicker than dragging him behind a horse on a stretcher. He gives his horse enough time, he'll heal up.”

  “I hope so. Nothing worse than seein’ a good horse get lame and not recover.”

  “Sheriff Hughes told me about Sam Jamison's bride. Crying shame that.”

  Chase bent down and picked up Grady’s hoof again. “Yeah, horrible thing to happen to a girl that traveled all this way to get married. But she’ll get along, Sadie will see to that.”

  “Are they pretty?” asked the deputy.

  Chase stopped working on Grady and again stood. “They all are, mine especially.”

  “Is she now? What is she, brunette? Blonde? Red-head?”

  “Reddish-brown, I'd say. You know, dark auburn? Why, are you interested in Sam's bride?”

  “Me? Heavens no! What would I do with a wife?”

  Chase laughed as he bent to his work. “The same thing any of us would do.”

  Bran scratched the back of his head. “A wife's no good for a man like me.”

  “What do you mean, a man like you?”

  “You don't see Sheriff Hughes hankering after a wife do you?”

  Chase thought a moment. Come to think of it, he'd never heard Sheriff Hughes mention any interest in women. Had the sheriff ever been married? “No, I guess I haven't.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” said Bran. “Or reasons, I should say. Sam shot, then the poor devil we brought back burned, dying of thirst. You can hardly recognize half of his face. Being a lawman out here don't mix with marriage. I'd be too afraid I’d leave behind a widow.”

  “That don't make no sense,” said Chase. “Sam was just a cowboy. He weren’t no lawman.”

  “Yeah, but how often do men like Sam have to go out and chase down outlaws? It's only because these were special circumstances,” Bran informed him. “Usually we don't need that big of a posse, but in this case, every man counted.”

  Chase stood and leaned against Grady, then patted the animal. “I guess being a blacksmith is a mite bit safer than being a lawman, unless of course you get kicked in the head or have an unhappy customer who up and decides to shoot ya.”

  Bran laughed at that. “You have a point,” he conceded.

  “Seems to me it don't matter what you do out here, things are gonna happen. There's danger everywhere, deputy, we all face it every day in one form or another.”

  “That being said, I'd rather not put a woman through all the things I have to face. It wouldn't be fair.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out some money, and set it on a bucket. “This here’s for Grady. Keep the change. Think I’ll mosey on over to the hotel and have me a hot bath and some supper.”

  “You do that,” said Chase. “Oh, and Bran?”

  The deputy stopped and turned to look at him. “Aye?”

  “It was a real honor to ride with you all week. Makes me appreciate what Sheriff Hughes, yourself, and Henry do for this town.”

  Bran smiled, tipped his hat, and left for the hotel.

  Chase watched him go and wondered if he'd come across his intended and her sisters. They'd be hard to miss if they were still having tea in the dining room. A sudden pang of jealousy struck him in the chest. What did he have to worry about? According to Deputy Bran, he was never going to get married. What interest would he have in the women?

  * * *

  “A rattlesnake? A real rattlesnake?” Apple's eyes were wide as Constance regaled them with the story of how she rescued Ryder not weeks be
fore.

  “Yes, it's much easier to speak of it now, than it was at the time,” said Constance. “I'm not sure I could do such a thing again. But I suppose if I had to, I would.”

  Apple sat back in her chair, her mouth hung open in astonishment, and looked at her other two sisters. Fina sat, her face locked in the same expression. Lena, on the other hand, stared at the doors to the dining room in anticipation.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” Imogene asked her.

  Lena jumped in her chair, and quickly straightened the napkin in her lap. “No, no, not at all.”

  “Did anyone hear when Ryder and Seth would be getting back?” asked Eloise, changing the subject.

  “No,” said Constance. “I wonder if they stopped by our place on their way back, or perhaps Penelope and August’s.”

  “When will we get to see Penelope?” asked Apple.

  “As soon as she comes to town,” said Constance. “Tomorrow I suspect.”

  “We don't know if we’ll be in town tomorrow,” said Lena. “It would be a shame to miss her.”

  “Couldn't you arrange to have Colin or Harrison bring us to town tomorrow, Cousin Imogene?” asked Fina.

  “One thing at a time, my dears,” consoled Imogene. “I know how anxious you are to reconnect with all of your cousins, as am I. But the town is in an upheaval at the moment, and I'm afraid there's nothing we can do but be patient.”

  “Things ought to settle down now,” said Constance. “From the looks of it, most of the posse has returned, except of course for Seth and Ryder.”

  “Is the man at the doctor's house the one who saved you?” asked Apple.

  “He must be, he's the only man that was in the barn while it was on fire”

  “Did you see Harrison when you were at the doctor's house?” inquired Imogene.

  “No,” said Lena. “If he was there, he was in the patient room, and Mr. Adams wouldn't allow Apple I to go back there.”

  “It's just as well. Ladies should not see such things,” commented Imogene.

  “It has to be the same man,” said Constance. “Otherwise I'm sure Harrison would have come for you by now. He must be questioning him.”

  “Oh what does it matter?” asked Imogene with a flippant wave of her hand. “You and your sisters are safe, as are the rest of the women who suffered through the ordeal.”

  Constance stared at her in open-mouth shock. “You might think differently if it was your life that had been saved by the poor wretch. I'm grateful to him, we all are. We owe him our lives.”

  Imogene looked her in the eye before she let her gaze wander elsewhere. “I apologize,” she said. “I do not mean to take your lives lightly.”

  Lena tapped Constance on the shoulder. “Our journey was very long, as you well know, and we've only just arrived. We've not had as much time to adjust as you and the others. Please forgive us if it appears that we do not understand what you’ve gone through. In truth, I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you, Cousin.”

  “It's the not knowing, that gets to you,” offered Eloise. She looked at each of them. “For a short time, none of us could even walk down the street and be safe.”

  “It wasn't only us, someone was after our husbands too,” Constance explained to them.

  “Sadie and Belle told us some of this,” said Imogene. “Be it a thoughtless act or planned executions, no one may ever know. But you’re all safe and sound, and now we're here. Can we not speak of something happier, such as Lena's wedding?”

  Lena started at the remark, and looked about the table. “My wedding, yes of course, let us speak of my wedding.” She looked at every one again. “What is it exactly, we should speak of? Where do we start? With the invitations?”

  Constance and Eloise giggled. “Oh cousin,” said Eloise. “You have a lot to learn about how weddings are done out here.”

  Seven

  As it turned out, Lena found there were quite a few differences between the weddings in Clear Creek and the weddings she been to in London. For one, you didn't send out a formal invitation as was proper in England. Instead, in Clear Creek, one simply had to go into the mercantile and inform Wilfred Dunnigan of any news they wanted spread about town. The local mercantile was the main source of news and gossip in Clear Creek, just as it was in many a small town. But in this case, when Wilfred found out about something, he made sure everyone was well informed. Within a day the whole town knew she was to be married soon. Unfortunately Wilfred had not given an exact date, so the townspeople-- bless their hearts-- were coming up with dates of their own.

  Lena and her sisters were sitting at the kitchen table of the Triple C, when Jefferson Cooke walked in. “I hear you're getting’ hitched in a couple of days.”

  “Who told you that?’ asked Lena.

  “Logan's wife, Susara. She done heard it from Mrs. White down at the schoolhouse.”

  “Are your children not on holiday at this time of year?” asked Fina.

  “Yep,” agreed Jefferson. “Susara’s been down there cleanin’ the place up a bit, makin’ improvements.”

  Lena straightened in her chair and looked at him. “To set the record straight, sir, I must inform you that I’ve not been made aware of the day I’m to be married.”

  “How can you not know what day you’re gettin’ married?” he asked. “You're the bride ain’t ya?”

  “As I told you, we've not set an exact date.”

  “Well then, how come Mrs. White told Susara that you’re gettin’ married in two days?”

  Lena threw her face in her hands and rested it there. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she mumbled through her fingers.

  Imogene began to drum her own fingers on the table in annoyance. “I say, but if this keeps up, you'll have been married at least three times before you actually do have your ceremony.”

  Lena brought her face out of her hands and gave her cousin a half-hearted smile. “I'm glad I only have one true wedding to worry about.”

  Fina and Apple giggled.

  Imogene glared at them. “And what is so funny?”

  Apple’s shoulders shook as she covered her mouth with both hands, then just as suddenly removed them. “Are the people here all daft?”

  Jefferson sat at the table to join them. “No, they're just excited.”

  “Over a simple wedding?” asked Lena.

  He stared up at the ceiling as he thought about his answer. Finally, after a moment, he looked at her. “It's not just a wedding this time. It's like a celebration of life for the townsfolk. You see when those outlaws tried to out right murder our women, that hit the town hard. No one's felt safe since. So this here barn-raisin’ we’re doing next week combined with your weddin’, helps folks have a sense of peace and calm. They like to know they’re safe in their own homes, and doing a little celebratin’ will help get things back to normal around here.”

  Lena could only stare at him as her gut twisted with guilt. She'd been thinking only of herself since she and her cousins talked about her wedding yesterday at the hotel. She’d not given any mind to how the town people felt about it, nor that it would bring them such healing in the wake of a horrible disaster. One none of them had any control over at the time. To top it off, the sheriff and posse coming back empty-handed, also hurt and frustrated the town. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for telling us.”

  “Just want to set the record straight,” he drawled.

  “Perhaps the people here would do better if they did have an actual date,” suggested Imogene.

  “Like the barn raising?” Apple asked.

  Jefferson leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Now that's a right good idea.” He looked at Lena. “What do ya think? Ya wanna get hitched at the barn raisin’ next week?”

  “Well I… I…”

  “I think it's an excellent idea,” said Imogene. “You already have your wedding dress and we don't need to sew anything for you-- thank Heaven for that-- and it will still give you a week
to get to know your betrothed.”

  Lena sat, her eyes darting from one face to another, as her body tensed. It was one thing to talk about her upcoming nuptials, another to actually set up a definite date. For some reason she felt very nervous. “I will have to speak with Mr. Adams, of course.”

  “Of course my dear,” said Imogene. “He'll want to know the date we’ve set, he is the groom, after all.”

  “Maybe he won't want to get married at the barn raising,” said Lena. “What if he wants a smaller affair?”

  Jefferson burst into laughter. “Darlin’, around here there is no such thing as a small affair. The town's gonna show up to your weddin’ anyway, so ya might as well get hitched at the barn raisin’. Besides, there’ll be a heap of food for folks to eat. Then the womenfolk only have to do the work once, and not have to worry about doing it again if you got married on another day.”

  Lena gawked at him. “I must say, but your charming town is like one big happy family isn't it?” Her voice wasn't sarcastic, but close enough.

  Jefferson's smiling face, the results of his earlier laughter, faded. “Don't get me wrong, girl, if you and Chase want to get hitched with just Preacher Jo and his wife Annie present, then you go right ahead, but I think you'd be a fool to do so.”

  “Why?” asked Apple, her expression one of curiosity.

  “Like I said before, this town needs somethin’ like a weddin’ to pick up their spirits.” He looked at Lena. “Don't take that away from them not now.”

  “Mine is not the only wedding, Mr. Cooke,” said Lena.

  “Maybe not, but it is the first, and it's the one that’s gonna help them the most. Not sayin’ you have to do it, but at least think about it, will ya?” With that he got up from the table, and slowly left out the kitchen's back door.

  Why the nerve of that man, huffed Imogene. “He has no right to tell you when you should, or shouldn’t get married.”

  “He meant no disrespect, Cousin Imogene,” said Lena. “He’s simply looking out for his friends and family. We must remember, we did arrive in the midst of tragedy.”