Chance Creek Brides (Volumes 1-3 & the Stagecoach Bride)

by Mary L. Briggs

  “Sit down,” he pointed her to one of the dining chairs. “You won’t be going anywhere.”

  Stunned she watched as he disappeared into the back room he shared with his brothers. Momentarily, he reappeared and headed out the door.

  Willing her legs to stand, she edged closer to the open door to hear their conversation. Already started, she could hear a querulous tone in Mr. Lloyd’s voice.

  “I don’t want no money, Jared. I think she needs to pay for what she’s–”

  “Forty dollars,” Jared interrupted. “Twice what you say she took. Enough to keep you quiet about this accusation, I might add.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. He was paying for what she was accused of taking. And more. Why? He couldn’t stand the sight of her. At least it seemed that way whenever she was near him.

  “Well. . .”

  She listened to the hesitation in the storekeeper’s voice. Relief washed through her when he answered.

  “I suppose that would cover it.”

  Jared spoke again, his voice hard and flat. “And I’m warning you Purvis Lloyd, I ever hear so much as a whisper about this in town, I’ll be on your doorstep in a second. The sheriff here is my witness.”

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “He’s right, Lloyd. If you agree, there’d better not be a word about this going around those gossip circles all the ladies seem so fond of.”

  She blinked her eyes and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Then I don’t guess you have any more business here, do you?” Jared said.

  “Sorry to have interfered with your day,” the sheriff apologized.

  She listened as they mounted to ride away.

  ***

  Inside, he returned the rifle to its place by the door. He glanced at her. “Well, you don’t have to worry about working for Lloyd.”

  She swallowed hard and shivered at the frost in his voice. “I guess that’s what you’ve supposed about me all along, isn’t it? Being a thief?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Whatever you’ve been doing, it wasn’t stealing money out of Lloyd’s Dry Goods Store.”

  She shook her head. “Why do you say that?”

  Jared shrugged. “Because he’s lying. The man couldn’t speak the truth if it bit him on the end of his two forked tongue.” He shook his head and grimaced. “All he did was take one look at you and. . .” His face flushed and he turned away.

  Missy bit her lip for a second. If only she could remember, confirm what Jared just told her. “Well, thank you for what you just did. I’ll do my best to repay you as soon as–”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he cut her short. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  She stepped back and stared. He was a complicated man. Most of the time cold and indifferent, yet he’d just taken a stand in her defense against someone he clearly knew.

  “But what if he was telling the truth? I have no idea where I was that week or what I was doing.”

  He stared at her, a sour expression on his handsome face. “Well those hands of yours don’t look like they’ve seen too much work. I figure whatever you’ve been doing with yourself, it didn’t involve cooking or laundry.”

  She snatched her hands behind her back. “So that must mean I’m involved in something unlawful?” Her temper flared in her chest and the words came out before she could stop them. “Go on, tell me, Jared. What is it you think I must have been doing. Gambling? Stealing? Or something else?” She could feel her face flame. How dare he accuse her of doing something dishonest. Something inside of her was positive that she wasn’t that kind of person.

  He looked away. “I don’t have any ideas, ma’am. Right now, I suppose I don’t know any more than you do.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I’d better get back to work. I’ll be listening in case anyone else rides up.”

  ***

  Jared wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against the railing as he watched his younger brother mount the Mustang and take it around the corral another time. Seth was the best of them at breaking horses. Mark was a little on the timid side when it came to taming them down, preferring to encourage from the sidelines. As for himself, he just didn’t seem to have a knack for it.

  Not that his mind was on horses. He shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. But any apology he could fathom just stuck in his throat. Maybe later today. Truth was, just looking at her sent his thoughts jumbling together, like a tumbleweed caught in the evening breeze. But not for long. As soon as she was better, she would be out of his house, out of sight. And he would deal with whatever nonsense his heart seemed to be stirring up.

  Chapter 8

  Missy could hear their voices as they walked toward the house. The morning interruption still weighed heavy on her mind and she’d had to go over the recipe three times before getting it right. At least she hoped it was right.

  The cornbread smelled good. Maybe she was a good cook. Or Aunt Della a good teacher, more likely.

  Opening the oven door, she wrapped towels around the handle and removed the skillet. Steam rose from the brown-around-the-edges bread. Finding the tray that Aunt Della always dumped it on, she rewrapped the handle and turned the skillet over. Nothing came out. She put it down and stared. It always came out for Aunt Della. And she’d got the skillet good and hot before putting in the batter, just like she’d said.

  What could. . .? No, no, no. She hadn’t put any bacon grease in the skillet when she’d heated it. No wonder it was still in the pan. Now she would look as incompetent as Jared guessed she was. Maybe setting his convictions about her more solid in his mind. She slammed the pan back on the stove and let out the breath that had been hibernating in her lungs. And why did she care what he thought?

  “Everything ready?” Seth asked as they came through the door and headed for the pitcher and basin across the room.

  She forced a smile and took a knife from the holder on the table beside the stove. “Almost.” She shouldn’t sound so cheery. This meal was not going to go well.

  ***

  “I think I kinda like it this way,” Seth said, taking another bite of the bottomless bread.

  Missy shot him a grateful smile and forced back the tears hiding just behind her eyelids. No need to steal a glance at Jared’s stormy face. He’d barely nodded when he came inside. She couldn’t blame him for resenting her. She had all but pushed him in the creek, ruined his best shirt, and now his dinner. Her being in his house was like a thorn in his side. Not to mention a dent in his savings. Someday, somehow, she was going to pay him back.

  The thought of being in his debt destroyed what little appetite she might have worked up. If she didn’t remember soon. . .

  ***

  Jared stared at the pieces of cornbread, crumbled on his plate. A man worked hard and the least he could expect was a decent dinner. He glanced at her, busy making conversation with Seth. She was sweet and pretty to look at, but he’d bet a crow’s nest of treasure the woman had never been in a kitchen in her life.

  He took out his handkerchief and managed to cover his mouth before he sneezed. Thanks to her, the dunking in the creek had given him a slight cold. Not to mention that he’d have to keep his coat on at the service on Sunday to cover up the scorch on his go-to-meeting shirt. The incident this morning was just another nail in the box of trouble she’d brought when she arrived. A few more weeks and he’d be broke, starving, and needing a whole new wardrobe.

  He took a drink of coffee and winced at the bitterness. Of all the people to get stuck with a worthless female, why did it have to be him? But there was no need to kid himself. He seemed to attract the type, like flies to strawberry jam. Of course, he’d had his chance. If he’d let her go with that low-life Lloyd, he’d be rid of her for good. But there were some things his conscience wouldn’t allow.

  He sighed and jabbed the bread with his fork, sopping it in a bit of stew. The first bite confirmed his suspicions. Driest cornbread he’d ever tasted. He resisted the urg
e to spit it back on the plate. He’d just have to make do with what she served and hope Aunt Della didn’t leave her in charge of the cooking very often.

  ***

  The kitchen clean enough for Aunt Della to come home to, Missy glanced out the window. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, so it might be a good time to get some fresh air. What she got on the porch this morning would hardly qualify as a healthy dose of the outdoors.

  Lingering qualms from that episode clouded her thoughts. Just a small break might help her work through the worry that ate at her stomach and whispered doubt in her ears.

  Stepping down from the porch, a small puff of dust followed her every step. Jared had mentioned that there hadn’t been much rain. His voice had conveyed the worry that he had refused to speak.

  The front yard of the house was bare of grass. Several gray and white chickens skittered across her path, both on the trail of a large grasshopper. She watched as the largest hen grabbed the fleeing insect and took off at a run, the other hen close behind. She shook her head and laughed. If she had ever had chickens, she couldn’t remember.

  “Here chick, chick, chick!” she called, tossing the leftover pieces and crumbs of the cornbread to them. There wasn’t much left and she was ashamed for Aunt Della to see the mess she’d make of the recipe.

  One large hen ran across the top of her boot on its journey to a small piece. Flapping her apron to shoo it away, she watched as the chicken headed for another scrap.

  She stopped at the rose bushes, empty of blooms and beginning to brown and dry from lack of water, their leaves crisp to the touch. Same with the little transplants of wildflowers that had been planted to create a small garden area beside the well. Missy stared at the sky above. For the first time that she could remember since waking up at the ranch, there was no blue in the sky. Surely a good thing.

  Various sounds from the barn drew her attention and she headed that way. Even Jared’s stiff company would be a welcome change from her own speculative thoughts. Just wondering about who she was didn’t seem to do much good. Some days, it was as if she’d been born a grown woman. No past, no future to look forward to. But there was a past out there somewhere. If only she could remember.

  ***

  Seth and Mark were busy inside the structure, building what appeared to be a small bench. Seth was putting fancy turned legs on it and Mark was holding a knife and chisel, poised over a board on the table in front of him.

  Seth grinned at her inquiring look. “It’s for Aunt Della. Her birthday is next month. We thought it might look nice in one of her little flower gardens or up on the front porch.”

  Mark nodded and gave her a slight smile. “We thought today might be a good time to work on it, since she’s gone to visit Mrs. Scope. I can probably finish this part without her knowing, but she gets kinda nosy when we spend too much time in here and she comes out to see what’s going on.”

  Missy nodded and walked to his side. Her eyes widened. “Mark! This is beautiful.” One finger followed along the lines that he had carved. Roses, with a wildflower wreath encircling them. “You are a very talented man,” she exclaimed.

  A rush of red covered his face and he hung his head in embarrassment. “It’s nothing.”

  “Favorite words of Jared’s,” Seth said with a sarcastic lilt. He reached for the mallet next to him. “If it’s not ranching, it’s not worth much,” he lowered his voice, perfectly mimicking his older brother.

  Missy squelched the laugh that rushed up her throat. It was a perfect imitation. “But that’s not true.” She turned her attention back to the blond headed brother, gently tapping another bit of wood from the design. “You’re an artist, Mark. People pay a lot of money for this kind of work. Furniture is expensive to buy. You could make a good living doing this.”

  He shrugged and put down the chisel. “Not too valuable a skill out here on the ranch, except for the occasional chair or bench.” His tone of voice suggested the subject was best left alone as he turned back to his work.

  Chapter 9

  Aunt Della was the last to take her seat. She glanced at Jared. “Everything’s on the table. You can say grace now.”

  Missy bowed her head and stared at the empty plate in front of her, ashamed that she wasn’t joining in the prayer. If only she could stop thinking about this morning; the words the sheriff had spoken, as well as the horrid, probing stare of Mr. Lloyd. The man had accused her of stealing. Even Jared hadn’t believed it. But in her state of mind, anything was possible. Or it would seem that way until she knew who she really was.

  Seth passed her the plate of potatoes and she automatically put a spoonful on her plate. She should be hungry, but the morning’s unexpected events still sent her stomach rolling and tossing like dry leaves the hot wind sent hurtling into the cabin walls. Food had no place in her jumbled thoughts.

  Her fingers fidgeted on the fork and she stared at them, dainty and small. Hands that didn’t seem to know their way around a household. No laundry or cooking, Jared had said.

  Jared. He had overstepped his bounds. How had she allowed herself to accept such a generous gift from a man who cared nothing about her? The way he looked at her, it was a surprise that he hadn’t packed her off to Mr. Lloyd the first moment the dreadful man suggested it.

  “I’ve got some exciting news,” Della started the conversation. “You’re all going to be very happy about what I’m going to tell you.”

  Missy put down her fork and forced her lips into a polite smile.

  Seth took a chunk of cornbread from the platter in front of him. “Well stop teasing us and tell us what it is.”

  Aunt Della laughed and took a sip of her water before revealing the news. “While I was visiting with Mrs. Scope today, her uncle arrived to take her back to Missouri.”

  Mark nodded and reached for the bowl of brown beans. “I guess that’s exciting for Mrs. Scope. Getting to move back with family, I mean.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean,” Aunt Della laughed. “Mrs. Scope is selling her place. And it borders ours.” She turned her head toward Jared. “We’ve got that extra forty dollars and I thought we could use it as a down–”

  “I don’t think so,” Jared interrupted her, his fork clanging on the pretty china. He picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth. Standing he tossed it back on the table. “I need to go check on something.” He was out the door in a moment.

  Aunt Della stared around the table. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Seth and Mark kept their eyes on their plates, shrugging as they both stuffed their mouths with another bite of Della’s excellent cooking.

  ***

  A strange tingling crept over her limbs and face, like tiny pricks of needles stabbing her all at once. The plate of food floated before her eyes, blurring and weaving. It was her fault the family wouldn’t be able to purchase more land for the ranch. She was responsible for holding them back. Every thought of leaving the ranch sent fear rushing through her body, but she couldn’t let them pay for her problems.

  I have to do it, Lord. I have to go to work for that man. Else, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I’ll have Your protection. That’s all I’ll need.

  She stood, her legs trembling. “Please excuse me for a moment. I’ll be back in time to help clean up,” she promised, not waiting for Aunt Della’s answer.

  ***

  Jared wielded the axe over his head and sent the blade down clean on the small log, expertly splitting it in half. Throwing the pieces aside, he set another on top of the big stump. Hot anger flushed through him as he struck through it’s hard interior. A few more of these and he might cool off and be able to think straight. Nothing like hard work to calm a man’s rage.

  He was a fool to give Lloyd the extra money. He ought to ride to town and take it back, make the man prove Missy was the one that stole from him. If anyone actually took anything from him. Lloyd wasn‘t above a lie. But it was the man’s word against hers. And with no memory. . .
<
br />   “Jared?”

  He turned to see her standing behind him. Her face was as pale as Mark’s hair. The way she was working at opening and closing her fists at her side, she was clearly distraught.

  He sighed. Right now was not the time for a hysterical female.

  “What do you want?” The bitterness in his voice echoed in his ears.

  “I want you to take me to town on Monday morning. If not with Mr. Lloyd, I’ll get a job somewhere. I won’t keep your family from expanding the ranch.”

  He swung the axe into the stump rubbed the sweat from his upper lip. She had no idea what she was saying. Lloyd was a no-good skunk of a man. There was no way that he could, in good conscience, let her work for him. “No. And that’s my final word.”

  ***

  Missy stared. His final word. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t her father. Or her husband. Or her brother. This man had no hold on her, other than the debt she owed him. Which she was trying to take care of. “Then I’ll walk.” She could be as stubborn, too.

  A flame sparked in his sapphire eyes. “I’ll not let a woman from my house–”

  She gave a short laugh. “Woman from your house? I’m not a permanent part of your family. Not your responsibility. I’m just here until I can. . .” she hesitated. “Figure out something. If there’s a job in town, I’ll be glad to take it and let everything get back to what it was before I so inconveniently showed up to ruin your life, Jared Murphy.”

  His nostrils flared with fury. “I said no. I wouldn’t let Purvis Lloyd take in an ailing rattlesnake.”