Bride for Samuel

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Very nearly?” Samuel frowned. “What’s keeping you from being entirely happy?”

  “You haven’t given me a proper kiss hello yet,” she reminded him, and with a grin, he took care of that oversight immediately.

  ***

  The day of the Christmas Ball had finally arrived. Nathaniel was working that evening—they needed Mounties on call—so Samuel and Beth had agreed to escort Claire over to the event and she could meet up with her husband there. Beth went to Claire’s early to get ready. She was glad for a few minutes alone to talk with her friend. Now that the ball had arrived, surely Claire was out of danger. The dresses would be done, and she wouldn’t be spying on that dangerous man anymore.

  “I did it, Beth. I found some counterfeit money in the Hastings’ hotel room and took it to Nathaniel. He’s so angry—I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. But I did what needed to be done.”

  Beth gave her friend a tight hug. “Yes, you did, and now they can put that man away for a very long time.”

  Claire sniffed, then gave a smile. “Yes. And now we have a ball to attend. I believe we were going to fix each other’s hair?”

  They helped each other finish getting ready. Beth didn’t have nearly the skill Claire did—Claire had styled hair for her former employer, and Beth’s fingers felt awkward. But Claire was pleased with the outcome. As for Beth, she simply couldn’t stop looking at herself in the mirror. She’d never had such a lovely hairdo before.

  When Samuel arrived to escort them, his jaw dropped open when he saw Beth. She blushed, not believing she deserved to be gawked over, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and she had to admit, she liked his reaction. With the possible exception of George Duesenberry, she hadn’t caught the eye of too many men, and it was flattering to see her husband blush and stammer at the sight of her.

  They walked along the moonlit street toward the hotel, then entered the grand ballroom. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Beth said, her eyes immediately going to the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. She’d never seen anything lovelier in her life.

  “Would you like to stay in a hotel like this and live this way every day?” Samuel asked her.

  She shook her head immediately, not even having to think about her answer. “If I lived this way every day, I might not appreciate fancy things when I saw them because they would be so commonplace,” she replied. “I rather like staring up at the ceiling and making a fool of myself over something new.”

  He laughed and took her arm. “Well put, my love.”

  Claire had caught sight of Nathaniel, who was now walking toward them. He collected his wife and nodded to Samuel, and Beth smiled at her friend as Samuel whisked her off to the dance floor. Nathaniel had been worried about Claire, and with good reason. Now that the danger was in the past, surely they could patch things up. Now Beth could concentrate solely on the handsome Mountie who was her husband.

  They spun around in each other’s arms, laughing and enjoying being together. This was the sort of thing Beth had always dreamed of when she thought about courtship. Now she was experiencing it—just after her marriage. It was a little backwards, but she wasn’t complaining.

  Far too soon, the Mounties received word that once again, there was trouble at the saloon. “I think we should just make Sam an honorary Mountie so she can arrest anyone who gives her guff,” Samuel said. He gave Beth a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Dance, enjoy the food—have a good time.”

  “I don’t think I really can without you, but I’ll try,” she said with a chuckle.

  She watched as her husband left with Matthew and Easton. Nathaniel’s post was at the ball, so he didn’t have to leave, and she felt mildly jealous. She would have loved it if Samuel could have stayed.

  She spotted her friends over by the refreshment table and walked up just as Claire finished describing some unusual symptoms she’d been having. Within seconds, the girls were laughing and squealing, and Claire was in shock. Sinead was quite convinced that Claire was expecting, and Beth was triply glad that her friend was no longer in Mr. Hastings’ clutches.

  Before too much longer, Samuel and the other Mounties returned from taking care of the scuffle at the saloon, and she was back in her husband’s arms.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked as he whirled her around the ballroom.

  “I really did. It’s boring to be Cinderella at a ball with no prince,” she replied.

  “What? You mean not one of the men here asked you to dance? They’re blind, every one of them.”

  “But I don’t want just any prince. I want you.”

  He grinned down at her, then whirled her around for another turn.

  That was only to last another few moments, though, before the men were called away again.

  “I suppose this is what it means to marry a Mountie,” Sinead said, taking a seat between Molly and Beth on the east side of the ballroom. “Always waiting for them to come back.”

  “Yes, and we knew that when we agreed to this,” Molly replied. “They’re out fighting the good fight, and they need us to come home to.”

  “Where’s Claire?” Beth asked, looking around.

  “Maybe she decided to tell Nathaniel right away,” Molly suggested. “They could be having a certain conversation in the garden.”

  Beth smiled at the thought. She couldn’t be any happier for her good friend—and, of course, she started to wonder when she might have such good news to share. She knew that it took some women quite a long time to conceive, and that others only had one child their whole lives. That was her mother’s lot, and she wondered if it would be hers as well. There was no way to look into the future, no matter how much she might want to.

  Chapter Twelve

  Quite a long time had gone by with no Claire and no Mountie husbands. Beth, Sinead, and Molly each danced a few times with some of the other men in the room, ate a few more refreshments, and kept anxious eyes on the doors. Finally, a messenger ran in saying that someone had been shot, and that Sinead was wanted.

  What a shock it was to find that her patient was Claire.

  “I’ll tell you the whole story later,” Samuel said, wrapping his arm around Beth’s shoulder. “She’ll be all right—I’m sure of it. The best thing we can do now is go home and get some rest. I’m sure you’ll be wanted quite a lot tomorrow.”

  “But she was supposed to be safe now,” Beth murmured, not protesting the fact that she was being led away. She was too numb at the news.

  Samuel paused. “Beth, did you know what Claire was doing all this time?”

  “Um . . .” She couldn’t think. Now that the secret was out, she didn’t have to hide her involvement, did she? It would come out eventually—it was best to get it out now. “Yes, she told me. I was sort of there when she arranged to work for Mr. Hastings.”

  Samuel stopped dead in the middle of the street. “You knew? You were there? Beth, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because she was doing something important. She wanted to help Nathaniel catch his brother’s killer.”

  Samuel opened and closed his mouth a few times like he was trying to decide what on earth he could possibly say. “Sweetheart, do you have any idea . . . This is dangerous. This isn’t fun and games, like reading a detective novel and trying to guess the bad guy before the end. What she chose to do was foolish, but that’s between her and Nathaniel. As for you . . . I’m stunned. I thought you’d have more sense than that.”

  “More sense than to support my friend?” Beth never knew how much temper she had until she got married. Now it seemed it flared up whenever it jolly well liked.

  Samuel released a measured breath. “I wish you’d told me so we could have protected her better,” he said at long last.

  “But she wasn’t shot until after she brought you the evidence,” Beth pointed out.

  “She wouldn’t have been shot at all if we’d known!”

  “And you wouldn’t have had your counterfei
t bills!”

  The two of them stared each other down there on the street, hardly able to make out each other’s features as the moon had changed positions in the sky. “We’re doing no good standing out here arguing,” Samuel said at last. “Let’s go home and get some sleep, and we can talk it over in the morning.” He paused. “Bathtub?”

  “No,” she said wearily. “We’re both too tired to find blankets to put in it.”

  When they got home, they changed out of their party clothes and then fell into bed. Samuel was worn out from the adventures of the night, and Beth was worn out from all the emotions that were coursing through her. What if Claire’s injury hurt her baby? And was every single Mountie stationed at Cougar Springs going to be mad at his wife this week? Should she warn Sinead and Molly? Logic told her that Nathaniel and Samuel had every right to be angry, but she wasn’t ready to listen to logic yet. She was still too wrapped up in wounded pride, and it would take her a little while to unwrap all those layers.

  ***

  Samuel awoke with a start when he heard the sound of shattering glass in the living room. He leaped out of bed and raced through the doorway to find that a lit torch had been thrown into his house. He didn’t bother to grab his boots, but instead, flung open the door and ran outside. Whoever it was couldn’t have gone far.

  The sound of more breaking glass caught his attention, and he headed toward the sound. Another torch had been thrown into the bedroom window . . . where Beth lay sleeping. A shadowy figure dashed across the lawn, and Samuel had to make a choice.

  “Beth!” he screamed. “Beth, wake up!” He took off running after the figure, hoping with all his heart that she’d heard him. He sent up a silent prayer that she would be safe.

  The ground was frozen and covered with twigs and rocks, but he hardly felt any of those things with his bare feet. Someone had just attacked him and his family, and that someone was not going to get away so easily.

  He put on an extra burst of speed and launched himself into the air, bringing the arsonist down to the ground. He rolled the man over to see his face, and was surprised to find Dr. Jenkins lying there.

  “Let me go,” Jenkins said, writhing in Samuel’s grasp.

  “Not hardly.” Samuel wrenched the man to his feet and brought one of his arms up behind his back, forcing him to march back the way they’d come.

  When they arrived back at the cabin, Samuel paused in shock. The entire thing was up in flames, and Beth was nowhere to be seen. Dawn was still a short time off and visibility wasn’t good, but shouldn’t he be able to see her?

  He swallowed a few times, then pushed Jenkins over to the supply shed on the corner of the property. There he found a rope, which he used to tie Jenkins up and anchor him to the doorknob, and then he turned and raced into the house. Every second he’d spent chasing Jenkins had been a second away from saving Beth, and he didn’t know how he’d live with himself if something had happened to her.

  He ran from corner to corner, yelling, calling for her, but the smoke was so thick, he could barely see. He was about to give up and go back inside when he realized he hadn’t checked the store room yet. He threw open that door and saw that the bathtub had been overturned. He lifted the edge, and there lay his wife. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

  He snatched her up and ran outside with her, and together, they watched as their cabin crumbled to the ground. People had raced up the path to help, but their cabin was far enough up that by the time anyone saw the smoke and realized what was happening, it would have been too late.

  Matthew and Easton were among the first to arrive. Nathaniel was no doubt sitting with his injured wife, exactly where he should be. Samuel clutched Beth to his chest, subconsciously rocking her back and forth.

  “What happened here?” Easton asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure.” Samuel relayed waking up to the sound of shattering glass and his race through the woods to catch Jenkins. “He’s tied up over there,” he ended, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Dr. Jenkins did this?” Easton asked, glancing over at the house.

  “I wouldn’t have believed it either, but I saw it for myself,” Samuel confirmed.

  Easton nodded. “We’ll take him down to the station. And the two of you need medical care.”

  Samuel was about to refuse it for himself, but then he looked down at his hands and feet. They were forming blisters, and he realized that he might have a touch of frostbite as well. That’s what happened when he chose to run outside barefoot in Canada.

  “I’ll get the wagon,” Matthew said, moving off into the darkness.

  Beth moved a little in Samuel’s arms, and he clutched her tighter. He never, ever wanted to let her go—not until they were both in their eighties and had no teeth left, and maybe not even then.

  Matthew brought the wagon around about ten minutes later. It was issued to the Mounties, but they hardly ever needed it, so it wasn’t kept in constant readiness. He helped Samuel lift Beth into the back, then gave Samuel a boost. “You’re going to need to requisition some new boots, Mountie,” Matthew said with a chuckle.

  “Don’t I know it,” Samuel replied without nearly as much humor.

  The wagon bounced along the road leading up to the health institute, where Sinead’s office was located. Samuel didn’t know if Dr. Porter would somehow be in, but he hoped so. It would be nice if they could both be treated simultaneously. He didn’t want to be apart from Beth for a moment longer than necessary.

  Matthew pulled the wagon up in front, and Eason jumped out and ran inside. What seemed like seconds later, Sinead met them on the steps, evaluating them as they were hurried inside.

  “Put them both in exam room one,” she instructed, and the one orderly on staff nodded his assent.

  Once they were both situated, Sinead began to examine them in earnest, her expression severe. “Matthew says Dr. Jenkins did this.”

  “That’s right,” Samuel replied. “We’ve got him locked up at the station.”

  Sinead didn’t say anything as she looked at Samuel’s feet. She grabbed a bowl, set it on a chair, lifted his feet into the bowl, and doused them both with hydrogen peroxide. “It could be worse,” she said when he flinched. “I could have used alcohol.”

  He nodded, recognizing that she was being as kind as she possibly could.

  “Your wife is experiencing severe smoke inhalation,” she said, looking at Beth with compassion.

  “I couldn’t get back to the house quickly enough,” Samuel said. “I had to catch Jenkins.”

  Sinead held up one hand. “I don’t need to know those kinds of details,” she replied. “I focus on the problem, not what led up to the problem.”

  It took a little time and a little doing, but eventually, both Sam and Beth had been cleaned up and were lying on somewhat hard hospital beds. Beth was drifting in and out of consciousness, her breathing rough and ragged. Samuel’s feet had been washed carefully, and then Sinead had gone after them with a pair of tweezers. He’d embedded all kinds of debris in the soles of his feet without realizing it. The pain while it was being cleaned was horrible, but he’d do it all again and twice more. Capturing Jenkins was worth sore feet. Now if only he could figure out a way to help Beth.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It hurt to breathe.

  In fact, it hurt to think about breathing. Or to think about anything at all.

  Beth moaned when she tried to open her eyes. They were so dry.

  “Beth?” She recognized Sinead’s voice and forced her eyelids to open so she could see her friend’s beautiful face.

  “That . . . was scary,” she said when she could get her mouth to move. Her throat was raw, and her voice sounded horrible.

  “I’m sure it was.” Sinead smoothed back a lock of hair from her forehead. “So, you remember quite a bit?”

  “I think so.” Beth licked her lips. “Could I . . . water?”

  “Just a little at a time.” Sinead brought a
small cup to her lips. “It will be a while before breathing doesn’t hurt.”

  Beth nodded. “Where’s Samuel?”

  Sinead stepped to the side to reveal Samuel asleep on the other bed in the room. He had bandages on his hands and on his feet, and he slept with his mouth slightly open. His hair was mussed, and Beth’s heart melted. “He saved my life.”

  “Matthew told me. Said he went back into the burning cabin for you.”

  “I knew he’d come.” Sinead licked her lips again. Being asleep had been easier. She’d rather be asleep.

  “You hid under a bathtub?” Sinead asked.

  “Front door was on fire. I thought the tub would protect me.”

  “I believe it did. Your lungs are bad, but they could be so much worse. You made a wise decision.”

  Beth smiled her appreciation for the compliment, but her eyes wandered back over to her husband. The best decision she’d ever made was deciding to come out here, house fires notwithstanding.

  “I think I need another nap,” she said, and Sinead nodded.

  “Sleep is the best thing for you.” She left the room and closed the door, leaving Beth to drift off to the comforting sound of her husband breathing.

  ***

  It was two more days before Beth felt well enough to hear what all had happened. She made Samuel tell her everything—first, she needed to know what had happened to Claire. Samuel told her the whole story, then made sure she knew that Claire was recovering well and would be in to see her as soon as she possibly could. Then she asked what happened to their house specifically.

  Samuel made an automatic movement to take her hand, but as his were still bandaged, the best he could do was pat her arm. “It’s completely gone, sweetheart. The fire took everything. The only thing still there is the bathtub and a small patch of floor right under it.” His voice grew thick, and he cleared his throat. “You chose the safest place you could possibly have chosen.”