Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six)

by Morgan, Kit

  “Oh dear,” said Penelope. “Then what happened?”

  Apple studied her fingernails. “I thought the best way to take care of the situation would be to push him into the safe and shut it.”

  “Why was the safe open in the first place?” asked Penelope.

  “Mr. Van Cleet locks the bank, but he hardly locks the safe,” explained Fina. “Levi had been there earlier and left, but dropped his key in the street out front. Apple found it, went into the bank looking for Mr. Van Cleet, and, well, that's when Deputy O'Hare came along.”

  “I hid under a desk and couldn't see him, only his boots and part of his legs. When I saw him bend down to look into the safe, I thought he was robbing it. Not only that, I didn't fancy getting shot. So you see, I had several reasons for doing what I did.”

  Penelope stared at her a moment before she spoke. “What a brave thing to do.”

  “It was a stupid thing to do,” Apple said, her face downcast. “He almost died because of me.”

  Penelope reached across the table and took her hand. “But he didn't, did he?”

  “No, but he sure is mad at me,” Apple said with a pout. “And probably will be for the rest of his life.”

  Fina studied her sister. “Let's not talk about this anymore,” she said then turned to Penelope. “It upsets Apple and she needs to not think about it for a while.”

  “I agree,” said Penelope. “It must've been horrible for you, not knowing if the man was going to live or die, not to mention the time it took to find Mr. Van Cleet so he could open the safe.”

  “That's just it,” said Apple. “Mr. Van Cleet wasn't in town, he stayed home sick that day.”

  “And Levi had gone out to help Colin and Harrison at the Triple C,” added Fina.

  Penelope gasped. “Then how did you get the safe opened?”

  “Dr. Drake opened it,” said Apple.

  “The doctor?” asked Penelope, perplexed.

  “He wasn't always a doctor,” explained Apple as she stood up from the table. “Should I go tell Levi it's time for supper?”

  Fina gave the soup pot another stir as she peered into it and smiled. “Yes, I think it's done, and the subject of Deputy O’Hare is closed, all right?”

  Apple looked at Penelope. “I'll not say another word if you don't want me to,” said her cousin.

  “I'd appreciate it,” said Apple. “I really don't want to think about it anymore.”

  “Very well, we shant speak of it further,” said Penelope. “And I'm sure by the next meeting of the ladies sewing circle, folks will have forgotten all about it.”

  Apple blanched. “Sewing circle?”

  “Of course, cousin,” said Penelope. “It meets every week, and we are in dire need of practice.”

  Apple closed her eyes and cringed. “Do I have to go?”

  “I think it would be good for you if you did,” answered Penelope.

  Apple stared at her them a moment before giving in. “Very well, I'll be there.” With that, she left the house like a woman walking to the gallows, and let the men know it was time for supper.

  * * *

  Over the next week, Apple did her best to avoid any and all conversations regarding what happened with Deputy Brandon O'Hare. Thankfully, her family was sensitive to her need not to talk about it, and so let the matter lie.

  The ladies sewing circle, on the other hand, wasn't quite so compliant. Especially Fanny Fig, who gobbled up the news with relish, chewed on it, and then spit out her own version of the whole affair. “I heard that when they finally got poor Deputy O’Hare out of the safe, he was dark blue!”

  “Tarnation Fanny!” snapped Grandma. “If the man was that blue, he'd be dead!”

  “He was blue, just the same,” countered Fanny. “I heard Doc had to hit him on the head just to get him breathing again.”

  Grandma rolled her eyes and put her sewing in her lap. “You do not hit a man on the head to get him breathing!”

  “How should I know these things?” huffed Fanny. “I'm not a doctor!”

  “Well I'm married to one and live with another, and I'm telling you, you do not hit a man over the head to get him to take air into his lungs!”

  “I'm only saying what I heard,” countered Fanny.

  “Maybe if you held your breath, we could watch you turn blue and see how long it takes before you pass out,” suggested Mrs. Dunnigan with a wry smile.

  “Irene!” gasped Fanny. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”

  “The same way you can spout out a pack of lies,” put in Mary Mulligan.

  “Ladies, please,” said Mable Turner. “The Cookes and their cousins will be here any moment, and I'm sure they're not going to want to hear this.”

  “I, for one, will be glad when they’re here,” said Fanny. “Then maybe we'll get the real story of how hard the doctor had to hit poor Deputy O'Hare to get him breathing again!”

  Grandma groaned just as the door of the mercantile opened. The Cooke women had arrived. Sadie entered first, little Honoria in her arms, followed by Belle and Apple. “Where is everybody?” asked Belle.

  “Ain’t here yet,” said Grandma then turned to Apple. “I don't know if Constance is coming to town today, but I'm sure the rest of your cousins will be here.”

  Apple looked at the many chairs placed in a circle near the front windows. Most of them were empty. “Goodness,” she said. “Does our family take up most of the circle now?”

  Mrs. Dunnigan glanced around. “Well, what do ya know, she's right. The English have taken over!”

  Everyone laughed. “If our circle gets any bigger, we may have to move it again,” said Mrs. Mulligan.

  Annie King came in at that point with Susara Kincaid and Elsie Drake. “Good morning ladies!” she greeted.

  “The church would work,” suggested Belle.

  “Work for what?” asked Annie.

  “Who would've ever thought we’d have to discuss moving our sewing circle because it's getting too big?” Sadie said then looked at Annie. “Do you think we could have it at the church if we need to?”

  “Well, I don’t see why not. Especially when it comes time for the Christmas play. We’ll be making the costumes for it anyway.”

  Apple took a seat next to Mrs. Dunnigan. “Lena is looking forward to your Christmas play. She loves the stage.”

  “I'm sure we can hold out for the next month or so, then let's talk about moving into the church,” suggested Annie.

  Everyone nodded their agreement. The door opened again and this time Lena, Fina, Eloise, and Constance entered.

  “Who wants coffee?” barked Mrs. Dunnigan.

  “I’ll help you Irene,” said Grandma and she got up from her chair.

  Belle shook her head and giggled. “What's so funny?” asked Apple.

  “My aunt loves to play hostess,” said Belle. “She can't wait for the baby to come, probably so she can cook for him or her.”

  Apple watched with envy as Belle ran a hand over her belly. Her pregnancy wasn't evident yet as far as anyone could see, but soon would be. “Are you hoping for a boy, or a girl?”

  “We both hope it's a boy,” said Belle. “But will be happy with whatever the Lord gives us.”

  “Have you thought of any names yet?” asked Eloise as she took a seat next to Mrs. Mulligan. The rest of the women followed suit and found a chair.

  “Well, if it's a boy, we'd like to name him Jefferson.”

  “Yes, then we'll have a new set of Jefferson and Honoria running around,” laughed Sadie.

  “What if it's a girl?” asked Mrs. Mulligan.

  “We haven't thought of a girl’s name yet. We can't decide on one.”

  “Let us help!” said Fanny with a clap.

  “Good heavens, no!” called out Grandma from behind the front counter. “The last thing those youngins’ need are a bunch of us biddies suggesting names for a baby!”

  “Are you calling us biddies?” asked Susara with a laugh.
<
br />   “Not you,” said Mrs. Dunnigan. “She means those of us whose children are already grown.”

  “Except you don't have any children, Irene,” pointed out Fannie.

  “Can I help if the good Lord never blessed me with any?” Mrs. Dunnigan shot back.

  “Ladies!” interjected Annie. “Let's get our coffee and cookies and begin our work, shall we?”

  “Constance!” Apple suddenly blurted.

  Constance laughed. “I dare say, but I do believe we'd best move our circle into the church sooner than later, especially since Apple just noticed I was here!”

  The women laughed and spent the next few moments chatting, sipping coffee, and nibbling on cookies until Mrs. Mulligan called the meeting to order. Apple had finally relaxed enough to enjoy herself when the inevitable happened.

  “So, we’ll start a Christmas quilt and get it done in time to be used as a prize,” announced Mrs. Mulligan. “Are we all agreed?”

  The women nodded.

  “Good, then if there’s nothing else, we’ll get started sewing,” finished Mrs. Mulligan.

  “I have a question,” said Fanny. She looked at Apple. “I want to know what happened with Deputy O'Hare. Did Sheriff Hughes hit him on the head to get him breathing again, or not?”

  Apple felt herself turn every shade of red there was, including that of Fina and Levi's kitchen table. “Wha… what?”

  “Mrs. Fig,” began the newly arrived Penelope. “Apple has had quite enough of the whole incident, and considers the matter closed.”

  Fannie's mouth dropped open in shock. “I’ll speak of it if I want to!”

  “Fanny,” said Grandma in warning. “Stop.”

  “Well how’s a body to know anything that goes on in this town, unless they ask?” Fanny complained.

  Apple's eyes darted to the mercantile doors. She could drop her sewing, get up, and make a run for them right now.

  Constance looked from Apple to Fannie, then to Penelope. “What’s this?”

  “That's right!” said Fanny with glee. “You haven't heard!”

  Apple closed her eyes and shook her head. No…

  “Heard what?” asked Constance.

  “Your cousin here shoved poor Deputy O'Hare into the safe and suffocated him!” Fanny said in excitement.

  “What?!” cried Constance.

  Apple threw her face into her hands, and fought the urge to run and hide.

  “He's fine,” ground out Grandma. “Don't listen to Fannie, she exaggerates.”

  “Apple?” said Constance. “Is this true?”

  Apple looked at her cousin and nodded. “True.”

  “It was an accident,” said Fina. “Let's not talk about it anymore.”

  “But I just want to know…” Fanny started again.

  “No!” cried Elsie Drake. “My husband did not hit the deputy over the head to get him breathing again! Now, enough!”

  Apple groaned, and unable to stand it any longer, tossed her sewing aside and fled the mercantile.

  Six

  Apple flew down the mercantile steps into the street, turned to her left, and ran. Unfortunately, she ran right into Deputy O'Hare! She cried out when she hit. “Oh!”

  He took a step back and grabbed her to keep them both from falling over. “What are you doing?”

  She looked up at him and moaned. “Oh, no …”

  “I'll ask ye again, lass, what’s going on? Is there a fire? Do ye need help?”

  Apple glanced back at the mercantile and struggled to free herself from him. “Let me go!”

  “Oh, no, not with that look of desperation. Yer mine!” To prove it, he grabbed her wrist and started to pull her down the street.

  “What are you doing?” she screeched.

  “Since yer bent on escaping the sewing circle, I'll accommodate you.”

  “What? Un-hand me!”

  He stopped. “Fine. So I take it you'd rather go back in there and face a circle of cackling females that all want to know what really happened on the day ye locked me in that safe?”

  “I … I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him, and raised her chin.

  He leaned down toward her and smiled. “I may not be a smart businessman like Mr. Van Cleet, lass, but I do know a thing or two. And I know, that right now every woman in that mercantile is talking about you,” he said and pointed at her chest.

  She swallowed hard. He was right, of course. She turned and looked over her shoulder but no one came bursting through the doors after her. Odd. She looked at him and squared her shoulders. “So what of it?”

  He stood straight, and raised a curious brow. “Yer braver than I thought. Fine then,” he said as he spun her around and gave her a shove. “Go back inside and face them.”

  Apple turned and stared at him. “What about you? What have people been telling and asking you all week?”

  “I've had nothing but sympathy. Mrs. Mulligan even made me my favorite stew.”

  Apple's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Why the nerve of the man! She studied him closer. Was he gloating?

  “And Sheriff Hughes offered me a day off so I could recover from my horrible ordeal.”

  At that, Apple had to close her eyes and bite her lip. She would not cry!

  “There, now, lass, I… I didn't mean for my words to…”

  Apple felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes.

  “I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings,” he said, his voice softened. “I'm sorry. I'm a bit of a tease ye see, always have been. Though not as bad as Levi Stone, but bad enough.”

  She looked at him, then to the hand on her shoulder. “I suppose we’re not going to hear the end of this anytime soon, are we?”

  “Not likely in this place. It's a small town and there are those that like to keep things stirred up.”

  Apple rolled her eyes. “You mean like Fanny Fig?”

  “Especially Fanny Fig,” he said with a chuckle. “Were they that bad then? The ladies in the circle?”

  “Fanny was the worst, the others seemed to be okay. I just…” she sighed, “don't want to talk about it anymore.”

  He took his hand from her shoulder and stepped closer. “I understand. I'm getting kind of tired of talking about it myself. I can't imagine what it's like for you. There's nothing worse than being at the other end of an accusing finger, eh lass?”

  “How would you know?” she said and looked away.

  “Trust me when I say, I've been there many times. Too many, in fact.” He reached over and touched her chin to get her attention. “I was mad as a rattler at you, that I’ll admit, and I'm sorry if I said things I shouldn't have, but ye did almost killed me.”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “Aye, ye did. Let's just call it even, then, shall we?”

  “Are you still mad at me?” she asked and looked at him.

  “I am a little.”

  “At least you’re honest about it.”

  “It's just that…” now he looked away, “… I was scared.”

  She looked into his eyes when he faced her again. “Scared?”

  “Aye, lass. I was afraid I was going to die.”

  Apple closed her eyes as her hands balled into fists. “I'm so sorry, Deputy, so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “No harm done now, though, eh?”

  She looked at him again. “No, no I suppose not.”

  “Then what say we start fresh? Make a clean slate, as they say?”

  Apple nodded. “I'd like that.” She realized how close he stood, enough to feel the heat of his body. “I should go back inside now.”

  “Why? No one's come to fetch ye, I see. Maybe they think ye needed some time to yerself?”

  “You can say that again,” she said with a sigh. “Once people start talking about it, they can't seem to stop.” She again looked over her shoulder at the mercantile. “They're probably still talking about it.”

  “Aye, I suppose they are. But isn’t that what
a group of chattering females does? Talk and talk and talk and talk?”

  She let out a small laugh. “It depends on what they're talking about.”

  “I suppose so,” he said as he looked into her eyes.

  His body jerked but with what Apple didn't know. Yet, she felt something had just passed between them. “Good or bad, I should be going,” she told him.

  He nodded. “I should be getting back to work myself.” He took a few steps back and began to turn away from her. “Do us all a favor, lass, and watch yerself the next time yer in the bank?”

  She couldn't help but smile at the tease. “I'll do that, so long as you make sure you stay away from the safe?”

  He smiled back. “I will.” With that, he turned and headed toward the sheriff's office.

  Apple had an odd fluttering in her stomach, enough to put her hands over it. For the first time, she noticed that Deputy Bran O'Hare was handsome. She smiled at the thought, then turned and went back to the mercantile.

  * * *

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and Apple was relieved that not one of the ladies in the sewing circle mentioned what had quickly become known as the Apple/O'Hare ordeal. She sobered when she heard Mrs. Mulligan say it, and at first only heard the names put together as, “Apple O'Hare”. For a scant second, she imagined it to be her married name. Fate was indeed cruel, for she then remembered his handsome face and the tiny prick of attraction she felt as she looked into his eyes. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, and was going to forgive her soon. Maybe he was even the kind of man she could make friends with. Maybe… he was the kind of man she could marry.

  But she didn't dare. To let him get too close to her would be his undoing, and his death. She would do well to remember that.

  Apple set the quilt squares she’d cut alongside similar piles on the mercantile’s front counter, then turned into the smiling face of Constance, and jumped. “Oh, my goodness!”

  Constance ignored her action. “I'll find out from Ryder what happened, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

  Apple took a deep breath to calm herself. “I think you've heard it all. Thank goodness Deputy O'Hare is all right.”