The Anonymous Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 1)

by Vickie McDonough

  Carly nibbled her lower lip. “Guess it don’t matter no more. When them two brides was fixin’ to make their pies, I switched the salt and sugar.”

  A shaft of guilt speared Rachel. She’d blamed Jacqueline for that little stunt. No wonder her daughter had gotten so mad. She’d been innocent, but Rachel thought her daughter had tried to fix the contest so that she would win. She leaned her head against the chair leg and closed her eyes. I’m sorry, sweetie.

  “I knew it was you when I saw that blue shirt. I ... uh, saw it when you showed me all them shirts. Later I snitched the tan one from your drawer.”

  Rachel’s eyes popped open. “You stole one of James’s shirts?”

  Nodding, Carly turned back toward her. “I’m right sorry for doin’ that, Rachel. I just knew I’d never be able to sew nothin’ that could equal what them other brides was makin’. I’d hoped to borrow it and put it back, but after the contest, all of them was gone.”

  Rachel felt violated. Someone living in her home had stolen from her. Granted, the shirt held no value to her, but just the thought of Carly snooping around her room gave her the shudders. Had she noticed the gun in the bottom of the drawer?

  And Jacqueline had told her that one of the shirts had been stolen—but she hadn’t listened. Rachel hung her head, feeling guilty for not believing her daughter. She prayed she’d get a chance to apologize.

  “I know you’re probably mad at me now, but if I had to do it over, I wouldn’t take it.”

  A part of Rachel wanted to stay angry. Angry at feeling so helpless. Angry at Luke for his stubborn refusal to forgive. And angry at Carly for violating her trust.

  But she knew this could be a pivotal moment for the young woman. Shoving aside her hurt, she forced herself to smile. “It was just an old shirt, Carly. I wouldn’t let that affect our friendship.”

  Carly sniffed. “It was more than that, and you know it.”

  “God has forgiven me a lot. How can I not forgive you for something so small?”

  Tears made Carly’s eyes glisten, and she dipped her head and tried to wipe them on her shoulder. “Oh! I’ll kill my brother for this. I can’t even blow my nose.”

  Rachel winced at the harsh words.

  “No, wait. That’s just a figure of speech. I’ve never killed anyone, and I’m not gonna start with Ty, even if he deserves to be shot for what he did to us.”

  Rachel just hoped he didn’t return and do more to them. “‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I hate to think what Ty will have to suffer if that’s true. He’s done lots of bad things.” Carly shuddered, and her face went pale. She looked at Rachel. “What will God do to me?”

  This was the moment Rachel had waited for. Give me Your words, Lord. “God will forgive you, if you only ask Him.”

  She shook her head. “I ain’t never killed nobody, but I’ve done some real bad things.”

  “It doesn’t matter to God. If you believe that Jesus Christ is His Son and that He died on the cross for your sins, all you have to do is ask forgiveness for those sins. And then try to live a life that’s pleasing to God.”

  “Ma took me to church when I was a young’un. I do believe that Jesus is God’s Son. I just never thought much about it.”

  Rachel smiled. “That’s wonderful. Now all you have to do is ask God to forgive you of your sins.”

  The young woman scowled. “It sounds too easy. Shouldn’t I have to do some kind of penance?”

  “No, Carly. Just tell Him you’re sorry and that you want Him to come into your heart and forgive your sins.”

  A myriad of expressions crossed Carly’s face, and then she slowly nodded. “Will you help me?”

  Rachel smiled. “Of course I will.”

  They bowed their heads, and in a matter of seconds, the angels were rejoicing in heaven over another lost lamb that had been returned to the fold.

  Jack stood at the crossroads and looked back toward town. She was too far away to see Lookout, but she knew it was only about a mile over the last hill she crossed. She’d never been this far out of town alone, and though it was an adventure of sorts, hesitation nagged at her like a pesky gnat.

  Ma had always lectured her on the dangers of wandering too far from town. Besides wild animals like coyote or even a wolf, there were outlaws, and the possibility of a renegade Comanche slipping across the Red River from their reservation in Indian Territory. Jack brushed her hair from her face. Did Comanches scalp people? She swallowed hard and looked at the road to town again. If she turned and walked back that way, the road would eventually turn into Bluebonnet Lane and lead right to her front door.

  But what if her ma was out there somewhere, waiting ... praying for someone to save her? She looked across the open prairie. Both Ricky and Jonesy lived out that way, though she’d never been to either’s home.

  She was dying for a drink of water. Why hadn’t she thought to take some?

  If she kept walking straight, she’d eventually come to the river, but if she turned and went to one of her friend’s homes, she could get a drink and maybe discover news about her ma.

  One thing was for certain: She wasn’t stupid enough to venture any farther from town unarmed. She tugged the gun from the bib of her overalls and removed the tin from her pocket. She opened the can and found eight bullets. Though she’d never loaded a gun before, she’d watched Luke do it several times.

  She slid open the cylinder, and with a shaky hand, dropped one of the bullets into the empty hole. One by one, she filled each slot and then snapped the cylinder in place. With the tin back in her pocket, she lifted her chin and walked away from town. The gun weighed heavy in her hand, but with it loaded, she was afraid to put it back in her overalls. Besides, if she needed the weapon, she wanted it to be handy.

  Her feet ate up the dry ground, and the heat from the sun made the top of her head hot. Ma would berate her for not wearing a bonnet, but she could hardly do that when she was wearing overalls. What she needed was a decent felt hat like her friends wore.

  As she topped the next rise, a small, white house rested in the distance. Two people walked her way, both carrying fishing poles. Jack’s heart jumped. Ricky and Jonesy. She jogged toward them, but as she drew close, both boys’ eyes widened and stared at the gun.

  “Who you gonna shoot?” Ricky asked.

  “Not us, I hope.” Jonesy laughed, but it sounded forced.

  “Am I ever glad to see you.” Relief washed through Jack, giving her energy that the sun had threatened to drive away. “My ma is missing. Nobody’s seen her since last night.”

  “Whoa! What happened to her?” Ricky’s blue eyes glistened with curiosity.

  “Why are you way out here?” Jonesy asked.

  “Luke found some tracks behind our house. I was following them, but I lost them somehow.”

  “The marshal let you come clear out here alone?”

  Jack shrugged. “He don’t know I’m here. He told me to stay at home with those two brides, but they were cooking up a storm in Ma’s kitchen. I couldn’t stay. I have to find her.”

  Jonesy took his pole off his shoulder and leaned on it. “What makes you thinks she’s out here?”

  “The tracks headed out of town in this direction, but before long, they got mixed with the other prints on the road. I just kept walking, hoping I’d find her.”

  Ricky looked around then refocused on Jack. “Why would she be out here?”

  Jack stomped her foot, and tears stung her eyes. “Aren’t you listening? I told you someone took her. I saw a man last night in Miss Blackstone’s room, and I told Ma, but she didn’t believe me. When I got up this morning, I noticed Ma had never been to bed. And Miss Blackstone was missing, too.”

  “Maybe that bride took her.” Jonesy offered.

  “But why?”

  “Well, you said Luke liked your ma’s pie best. Maybe she decid
ed to get rid of the competition.”

  Jack hadn’t considered that angle. “But how would she know Ma was the anonymous bride?” She narrowed her gaze and scowled at her friends. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  Both boys shook their heads and eyed the gun again as if they thought she might shoot them if they had. Jack nearly laughed at their comical expressions, but she wasn’t in a laughing mood.

  “Is that thing loaded?” Ricky lifted his hat and raked lines with his fingers in his white-blond hair.

  “What good would it do me if it wasn’t?” Jack wasn’t about to tell them that she’d just loaded the gun.

  “You even know how to shoot it?”

  Jack shrugged. “Just point and pull the trigger. How hard can it be?”

  Her friends glanced at each other, and their brows lifted. Ricky turned back to her and held out his hand. “Maybe you’d better give that to me. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt—or uh, shoot one of us by accident.”

  Jack backed up two steps and held the gun against her chest. “But I need it to find Ma.”

  Ricky shook his head and handed his fishing pole to Jonesy. “No, you don’t. Give it to me, and we’ll help you search for your ma.”

  Tears sprouted in her eyes. “You will? Truly?”

  Both of her friends nodded. Ricky stepped forward, hand held out in front of him. “C’mon. Gimme that gun. You’re too young to be messing with it.”

  Jack glanced down at the heavy black weapon. Truth be told, the gun made her nervous. She handed it over to her friend. “But I gotta get that back and hide it before Ma finds out I took it.”

  Ricky quickly unloaded the gun and put the bullets in his pocket. He shoved the revolver into the waistband of his pants and crossed his arms. “Now, start at the beginning. When did you last see your ma?”

  Jack related the story to them. “I think Ma must have gone upstairs to check Miss Blackstone’s room, and the man must’ve taken her prisoner.”

  “Why would he do that?” Jonesy asked.

  Jack flung her arms up. “I don’t know.” She told them about the key and unlocked door and Luke finding the trail. “So I followed the prints.”

  “Hey!” Jonesy shoved Ricky in the arm, receiving a glare from the taller boy. “I just remembered something. The other evening I went out in the far pasture to bring in the cows for milking. You know that old shack we used to play in?”

  Ricky nodded. “Yeah, so what?”

  “I saw a stranger go into it, that’s what. I meant to tell my pa but got busy milking and forgot until just now. And guess what else. He had two horses.”

  Ricky’s eyes lit up at the same time hope sparked within Jack. “Maybe that’s where he put Ma and that bride.”

  “Yeah, let’s go check it out.” Ricky spun around, his hand resting on the gun handle.

  “Wait! Someone needs to go tell Luke about this,” Jack said.

  Ricky faced her again. “That’s probably a good idea. You go.”

  Jack shoved her hands to her hips and glared at her friend. “I’m not going. It’s my ma that’s missing.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” said Ricky. “But you’ll have to be quiet and do what I tell you.”

  Jack nodded. Ricky was only a few years older than her, but he was bigger—and he was smart, for a boy.

  “Then you need to go to town and fetch the marshal, Jonesy.”

  Their friend scowled. “I’m the one who saw the stranger. I should get to go.”

  “I’ll let you have the pick of any of my commies if you’ll do it.” Ricky reached into his pocket and pulled out several clay marbles.

  Jonesy’s eyes widened. “You will?”

  Ricky nodded, though his face looked pinched. His collection of marbles was his most treasured possession. Jack knew he was sacrificing one for her, and that meant a lot, considering how little money his family had.

  “All right, I’ll go to town and tell the marshal, but I’m coming right back, so wait on me before you do anything. And I’m not taking these fishin’ poles.” He dropped them to the ground and took off running toward town.

  Ricky snatched up the rods. “C’mon. Let’s run these back to my house, get some water, and go check out that cabin. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find your ma.”

  Jack walked alongside her friend. Her ma had said both boys were too old for her to hang around with, but they’d always watched out for her and treated her like a sister. Maybe if the boys helped her find Ma, then her mother would allow her to spend more time with them. At least she could hope.

  She followed Ricky back to his house, noting peeling paint and how it leaned to the right. A skinny brown and white hound dog lay with its nose hanging off the end of the rickety porch. She never knew Ricky had a dog. Ricky’s pa was known to drink a lot and spend too much time at the saloon. Suddenly, she realized the sacrifice her friend was making for her by giving up one of his treasures. He didn’t have many nice things in his life.

  She hoped he didn’t get hurt. Hoped they didn’t have to use that gun. Her gaze darted upward at the pale blue sky.

  Please, Lord, help us find my ma. Let her be all right. I’m sorry for not being a very good kid, and I promise to do better—if only You help us find her.

  CHAPTER 32

  Luke stared out over the town, itching to get back out there and look for Rachel. Mark had gone to Polly’s to fetch them some dinner, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Luke hadn’t eaten since yesterday, he’d be out searching right now. Mark had talked him into taking a short break to see if any of the townsfolk had found Rachel.

  They hadn’t.

  Luke’s hand tightened around the porch railing. What was the point of being marshal if he couldn’t protect the woman he loved? Where could she be? Was she injured?

  He knew Rachel would be worried about Jack. His gaze flitted to the boardinghouse. Was the kid at home, or had she gone out somewhere with her friends? He was half afraid those two older boys were going to get her into serious trouble one day. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen much of them since school had ended for the summer.

  “You ready to eat?” Mark walked past the stage office and stopped in front of Luke, carrying two plates of steaming food.

  Luke started to shake his head, thinking he couldn’t eat while Rachel was in danger, but then he caught a whiff of the beef stew and saw the golden corn bread Mark carried. His stomach let him know refusal wasn’t an option. Besides, he needed to keep his strength up so he could keep searching.

  Mark set the plates on Luke’s desk. “What will you do if you don’t find her by dark?”

  Luke poured them both a cup of fresh coffee he’d just brewed. The inside of the jail was sweltering from the stove, but a man couldn’t function without his coffee. “I’ll keep looking.”

  Mark’s blond brows lifted as he buttered his corn bread. “In the dark?”

  Luke shrugged. “I don’t know.” He shoved a bite of stew in his mouth, but it tasted like paper. He shoveled in just enough food to keep him going.

  “Look, you’d help Rachel better by getting some rest and being fresh in the morning. If you’re overly tired, you might miss something.”

  Luke ran his hand across his bristly jaw and shoved the bowl toward the middle of the desk. “I know, but I can’t stand the thought of her being out there, maybe hurt. Maybe alone.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Luke stared intently into his cousin’s eyes. “No, you don’t. I still love her. I want us to have a second chance.”

  Mark’s brow rose nearly to his hairline. “Just when did you figure all that out?”

  Luke fought a shy grin tugging at his mouth and lost the battle. “Last night. I realized I harbored an unforgiving spirit toward her when what happened was my own fault.”

  “How you figure that?” Mark shoved a corner of corn bread into his mouth.

  Luke explained how he was responsible for James’s attack on Rachel. Mark leaned back in his
chair and shook his head. “You’re not at fault for what James did.”

  “But I’m the one who sent him to meet her.”

  Mark frowned and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Only James is responsible for what he did.”

  Luke slammed the desk. “No, it’s my fault. I should have gone and met her myself. It would have only taken fifteen or twenty minutes. But no, I had work to do.”

  “You were trying to make money for a home so you and Rachel could get married.”