A Mail-Order Christmas Bride

by Livia J. Washburn

  He handed it back to her, and she replaced it between the pages, then closed the book.

  “Any ideas who—” Rocky began.

  “Of course not! All this time, I thought it—it was really you.”

  Their food arrived, and Rocky gave her wrist a slight squeeze. She understood he wanted their conversation to remain confidential.

  The waitress left them, and Rocky picked up his fork, motioning to Melanie. “Eat up, Melanie. Food’s good here.”

  Melanie moved to do the same, though her stomach churned with nervous anxiety. What was to become of her now? She’d had very little money when she started this trip. Even as frugal as she’d been, her funds were practically gone.

  She’d planned to be married by tonight—to a total stranger—and not have that particular worry any longer. Now…she had no husband, no money, and no idea what she was going to do.

  After the first bite of her roast beef, she realized how ravenous she was. These days of trying to conserve money by eating little—sometimes nothing—had caught up with her. She forced herself to eat more slowly.

  “Do you know who might have played such a monstrous trick, Marshal? A friend of yours—”

  “No.” He shook his head adamantly. “No ‘friend’—my friends all know I’m not the marryin’ kind. Not at all.”

  Melanie recoiled and stiffened at the fierceness of his reaction.

  “’M sorry, ma’am…uh, Melanie. I—well, marriage and me didn’t set too well, the one time I tried it before.”

  “Really? Why is that?” Melanie stopped the bite of meat headed for her mouth, shocked at her own question. “Oh—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not my business.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t mind.” The tension went out of his shoulders. “I married a woman I thought I loved. One who I thought loved me. She’d come to stay with her aunt for the summer, and I was in love the minute I saw her. Eleanor was a lady—no doubt about it—and I thought she’d never look twice at me.”

  He smiled at the memory, then sobered as he continued. “She did, though. We married quick. Caused a lot of talk in this town, I’m tellin’ ya.”

  Melanie nodded. At least, she didn’t have to worry about being in the “family way”. She only had to figure out how she was going to survive. At a time when everyone else was celebrating Christmas and family, she was going to be worried about having a place to sleep and when she might eat next.

  “What happened?”

  “She got bored. Eleanor was used to havin’ a lot of friends around, spendin’ money like water, and doin’ what she damn—uh, darn well pleased. I was gone. Working. She left out of here with a trinket salesman.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Rocky gave a short laugh. “Don’t be. Guy was headed back East, where she came from. That’s the life she wanted. Travelling and being together with the man she chose—not living separate for weeks at a time.”

  Melanie shook her head. “It just seems to me she’d have understood that your job was going to take you away on business. She knew what you did for a living when she married you.”

  Rocky met her eyes with an intense look. “Yeah. She did.”

  ****

  Why hadn’t someone decided to play this mail-order bride prank three years ago, before he’d ever heard of Eleanor Greentree? Looking into Melanie duBois’s blue eyes stirred something inside Rocky’s chest that he’d long ago thought dead. Begrudgingly, he admitted he must still have a heart, after all.

  Because it had taken off like a racehorse when this woman touched him. When she’d spontaneously reached for his hand earlier, the leap and subsequent pounding had startled him, it had been so unexpected.

  Her eyes were sad, even when she gave him one of her infrequent smiles. What would prompt a woman as lovely as Miss Melanie duBois to leave everything behind and travel across the United States alone, to a place she knew nothing about? To a man she’d never met?

  Surely, her circumstances were what had made her flee—not the idea of rushing toward some unknown destiny that awaited at the end of an exhausting journey.

  What might those circumstances have been? Did he dare ask? He needed to know—to get to the bottom of this.

  He noticed Melanie had fallen silent; wondered if she had asked a question he’d ignored in his woolgathering.

  “You’re quiet—did I—”

  “Oh, no. No, not at all,” she reassured him. “I’m just…worried. I mean, what am I going to do now?”

  Her face was tight, her eyes desperate as she continued. “I have nowhere to go, don’t know a living soul here, and…I must confess, I am financially embarrassed.” She looked away quickly. In a softer voice he had to strain to hear, she said, “I have a dollar left in my reticule. That’s the end of my money. Maybe enough for a night in one of the lesser establishments here, but—” She lifted eyes that shimmered with unshed tears to his. “What will I do tomorrow? And Christmas—just a couple of days off—”

  Rocky took her hand in his again. He couldn’t bear the despair he heard in her voice. He could only imagine the helplessness she must feel at being at the mercy of the world.

  “I have no place to go.” She said it as if it had only just registered with her.

  “Yes, you do,” he answered, before he even thought. “You’re coming home with me.”

  ****

  “I—oh, I can’t! You didn’t write those letters, Rocky. And you aren’t looking for a bride—you said so yourself.”

  In no uncertain terms. He grimaced when he thought of how he’d said it.

  “Look—my brother and I have a small place over in Indian Territory. He runs it, but we both own it. He got married last year, and he and his wife had their first baby in September.” He slowed down as he realized how eager he sounded. He surely didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. This was only a temporary solution.

  “Anyhow…I know Kevin and Maria would love to have you—”

  “I don’t know them—”

  “—have us,” he amended quickly.

  She sat stiff and still, and Rocky watched the warring emotions cross her face. Finally, she spoke.

  “That is so kind of you, Rocky. But I’m afraid I must—”

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” he said quietly. “We have to find out what this is all about, Melanie. Don’t you agree?”

  She nodded.

  “I was planning to go to Kevin and Maria’s for Christmas anyhow. There’s plenty of room, and Maria will welcome having the company of another woman. Especially right here at Christmas time.”

  “Maybe I could be of some help to her, especially with a new little one—”

  Rocky’s body relaxed. He hadn’t realized how anxious he was to convince her to come with him. “She’d welcome that,” he murmured.

  “Oh—my trunk—”

  “We’ll have to leave it here,” he said with regret, “if I can’t rent some kind of wagon from the livery.”

  “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” Melanie said. “But—I could learn.”

  Something about her willingness to do whatever it took to make the trip and get to safety filled Rocky’s chest, making it ache. Once again, he wondered at what could have made her leave everything behind except what she’d been able to get into one small trunk, and come west.

  He was determined to find out.

  ****

  Melanie’s uneasy relief had been short-lived as they’d started toward the hotel near the restaurant. Her heart sped up as they walked.

  “Rocky—I don’t have money—”

  He stopped walking and she stood facing him. His dark eyes held a light of warmth. “I know. I’m payin’ for it.”

  “No, I—”

  “You what, Melanie? Plan to sleep out here on the streets?”

  She took a deep breath, feeling her eyes prickle. He’d said the words gently—it was the truth of them that made her ache. Her own desperation had bro
ught her to ruin.

  He must have seen her anxiety, because he took her hands in his and said, “You need some help right now. So, let me be the one to—get you out of this fix you’re in, Mel.”

  When she tried to speak, nothing happened. Her throat felt tight and dry. She nodded—there was no other choice.

  “You get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll head for the ranch. When we get there, we’ll figure out what to do over Christmas,” he told her.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you, Rocky. I’m sorry to drag you into my troubles.”

  He smiled at that. “I think I’m part of your worrries, until we discover who’s playing this game, Melanie. I’m gonna need the address of where you sent your letters in reply to…whoever was setting this up.”

  Melanie nodded. “Yes. I can give it to you, but I’m afraid it won’t help much. It’s a post office box. Right here in Ft. Smith.”

  He frowned at that. “Maybe the postmaster can tell me something.” He took her arm and they entered the hotel lobby. “Let’s sit down over here,” he said, nodding toward a grouping of chairs around a small table.

  Rocky reached into his pocket and took out a double eagle. “Here,” he said, handing it to her once the man at the desk bent down out of view to retrieve something.

  Melanie hesitated, and he gave her an impatient look, glancing over toward the desk again. She understood. He didn’t want anyone to see him giving her money. They might think he was buying more than her lodging—which was highly improper, as it was.

  She took the coin and quickly put it in her purse.

  “I want you to have some money to pay for whatever you might need—or want,” he added. “Woman oughtta have some pretty hankies or lavender-scented soap if she wants…” His voice trailed off as he looked into her eyes. Then, he brusquely went on. “And to pay for your room or any meals you might want to eat—things like that.”

  Melanie sorted out her words carefully before she spoke. “Rocky, thank you. I will pay you back someday. I don’t want to be indebted to you—”

  “I want to do it. And we’re gonna get to the bottom of how this all happened, I promise you.”

  Melanie nodded. “Thank you. I just want to understand why.”

  “Me, too, since whoever did this was pretending to be me.”

  They were silent for a moment, then Rocky said, “Why don’t you go on and check in, and I’ll go get your trunk for you. We’ll want it over here to load up in the morning when we leave.”

  “Oh, yes! I appreciate—everything.”

  They both stood and Melanie headed for the front desk.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” Rocky told her.

  Somehow, that gave her a feeling of warm reassurance. She was not alone anymore; at least, for a little while. Oh, but even a temporary reprieve was sweet. Wistfully, she hoped it would last—if only through Christmas.

  ****

  After Rocky delivered Melanie’s trunk, he headed for the jail to pay Mike Ferguson a visit.

  He’d brought Ferguson in on a murder charge, but oddly enough, he hadn’t had to go very far to find him. Since Ferguson was in Indian Territory, Rocky had thought it would be tough to flush him out.

  Ferguson was a professional criminal, it seemed, and knew every hiding place there was in the Territory. But so did Rocky. It was just the idea of having to go after him that he’d dreaded; a chase like that could go on for months, and winter was well on its way. Also, Ferguson hadn’t been positively identified as being at the scene of the murder…Rocky had the feeling it could have been any number of outlaws who’d done the crime—not necessarily Mike Ferguson. But, he’d gone after him, anyhow.

  He and Ferguson had been battling for years, now. He’d arrested Mike four times. But the man had a way of talking himself out of every situation, and in two cases, key evidence had mysteriously been misplaced. In another, a vital witness had disappeared.

  This time, though, there had not been much of a chase at all, and Rocky hoped the two eyewitnesses would be able to positively identify him, and not think better of testifying at the last minute.

  He’d found Ferguson camped on the west bank of the Arkansas River…almost as if he’d been waiting for someone to come get him. Rocky hadn’t stuck around to see who it might be. He’d clapped the cuffs on Ferguson and brought him in.

  And Mike had mentioned “a surprise” more than once. Could the outlaw be behind Melanie du Bois’s arrival?

  As far-fetched as it seemed, it was beginning to make sense. But why? Why would Ferguson have done something like send for a mail-order bride?

  Rocky opened the jail door and stepped into the warmth.

  “Deputy.” Deputy Marshal Otis Talbot gave Rocky a nod.

  Rocky put his hand out, and they shook. “Otis. I’m here to see Mike Ferguson.”

  Otis gave him a knowing look. “He’s mentioned he’d like to visit with you, too. Just had his dinner, so maybe he’ll be in a talkin’ mood.” He jerked his head toward the door to the cellblock. “Go on back.”

  As Rocky went through the door, Ferguson stood up. He gave Rocky an appraising stare, then a wide grin spread across his face. “As I live and breathe. I got me a real-live visitor. A lawman, to boot!” He sauntered forward, standing at the front of the cell, his elbows resting on the bars.

  Rocky didn’t return the smile. He came to stand in front of Mike, staring at him without expression. “I want to know something, Ferguson. I want to know why you sent for a mail-order bride.”

  Mike didn’t deny it. He burst into laughter. Then, he said, “If you don’t beat all. People usually send for mail-order brides so they can marry them.”

  “You intend to marry her?”

  “Hell, no!” Ferguson walked over to the cot and lay down, palms beneath his head, legs crossed. “Naw, she ain’t for me. Didn’t she tell you? She’s here to marry you. You been writin’ to her, see, and everything.” He grinned again—the mile-wide smile that had gotten him out of so many scrapes in the past.

  A white-hot heat crept up Rocky’s neck, into his cheeks. “I haven’t written a word to her,” Rocky stated softly. “And I’ve got no idea what made you believe it was all right to send for that girl you have no intention of marryin’. She’s come a long way—”

  “I know it! An’ you won’t want to disappoint her, Rock. Oh, she is a looker, from that picture she sent me.” He sat up. “Wanna see?” he asked, with sly eagerness.

  Rocky’s heart leapt. This was the evidence he needed. “Sure.”

  Mike fished around in his pants’ pocket until he brought out a tintype. He held it up from where he sat. “See? But you’ve seen her in person. Prob’ly a lot prettier than this picture shows.”

  Rocky squinted and stepped closer. “Let me see it—” He held his hand out, and Ferguson passed it to him through the bars.

  It was Melanie, all right. The picture was a likeness of her from a couple of years back. Her hair was done up atop her head. A small hat was perched on top, like a bird’s nest in a tree. Her eyes…were so sad. Who would go for a photography sitting with such sadness in their expression? What had happened to her?

  She was young. But life had dealt her a rough hand—and now, it had happened all over again. Anger shot through him.

  “You can’t just play with people’s lives, Ferguson. What do you think this girl is going to do, now that you’ve gotten her here?”

  Ferguson’s perpetual smile faded. “Hell, I paid her way out here, Rock.” He slouched against the bars. “She can do whatever she was doin’ in West By God Virginia, same as here. It ain’t like I ruined her life, or anythin’—hell, if you don’t want her, maybe I’ll just marry her myself, after all.”

  The defiant petulance in Ferguson’s voice, as if he were the offended party, made Rocky’s jaw clench.

  “You will not marry that woman and further destroy her world, Ferguson.”

  “What’s to stop me?” Ferguson stood away fro
m the bars and narrowed his eyes. From past experience, Rocky knew that it might not be in Mike’s thoughts to fight for something until he was told he couldn’t have it. Stubborn. Ornery.

  Rocky stepped forward, dropping the picture. He reached through the bars and yanked the outlaw toward him, banging Mike’s forehead on the steel barriers.

  “You listen to me, you son of a bitch…you leave Melanie duBois alone. She’s not for the likes of you. You understand me?”

  The quick anger left Ferguson’s face, and he began to laugh out loud until it rang off the walls in the enclosed space. Rocky gave him a shove, then bent to retrieve the picture that had fallen at his feet.

  “Hoo-wee, Deputy! You got it bad already, I think,” Ferguson said through his laughter. “Yep, what’s that I hear?” He stood still, cupping a hand to his ear. “It’s…It’s weddin’ bells, for sure!”

  Rocky turned to go as Ferguson began laughing again.

  “Oh, Deputy, you can keep that picture of your intended. A little early weddin’ gift from me. Sorry there ain’t no frame.” Shaking, spurts of laughter overtook him again.

  When Rocky reached the door, he turned back to look at Ferguson. “Why? Why did you do this?”

  Ferguson’s mirth left as quickly as it had come. He glared across the space that separated them. “Now, that’s my business, Deputy, and mine alone. I’m done talkin’ on the subject.”

  Rocky watched Ferguson’s quicksilver transformation. Loco. Had to be.

  “For now,” Rocky murmured.

  “Forever, lawman. There’s some things a man—well, he’s just gotta keep some things to hisself, I reckon. And maybe this is one of those things…” Slowly, the outlaw turned his back on Rocky and walked to the window, looking out at the gallows builders who were busily at work.

  Rocky turned and left, pocketing the picture as he went.

  ****

  The next morning, Melanie rose early after a near-sleepless night. The uncertainty of her future weighed on her mind. She’d found her thoughts returning again and again to Rocky’s mesmerizing stare, the feel of his hand on hers, and the overall sense of security she felt in his presence.