“Well, he said he is. Not that he cares what type of food he eats, or what country it originated in, as long as it’s well cooked and there is plenty of it.”
Mary heard the front door open and leapt to her feet. Finn stepped through the doorway and she caught her breath. Freshly shaven, hair still damp from the bath he had obviously taken, he was a handsome man. She had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was not a dream.
“Finn.” She dashed over to him and into his arms and he kissed her full on the mouth, once, twice, a third time before he stepped back, still retaining hold of her.
“Let me look at you. You’re beautiful, darlin’. I’m a lucky man.”
She gasped.
“I mean, you were beautiful before I could see through the bruises and dust, but now you’re exquisite.”
“Ethel has been so lovely to me, helping me take a bath, loaning me clothes. Where is she? She was here a couple of minutes ago.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Being discrete, I guess. That means I can sneak another couple of kisses.” And that’s exactly what he did.
***
Sam Tyson was a tall, slim man, just as friendly and welcoming as his wife. Straight away she noticed an easy camaraderie between the two men.
“All we have to do now is wait for Preacher Stuart,” Ethel said. “Do you have a wedding ring?”
“No. Do we need one?” Finn asked.
“I’ve got my mother’s wedding ring,” Mary said. “It was amongst the jewelry Finn rescued for me.”
Ethel clapped her hands. “I love weddings. I can still remember the day Sam and I wed. Remember, dear?”
“No.” He grinned at his wife.
“Oh, you men. Not a romantic bone in your bodies.”
Sam elbowed Finn in the ribs. “Course we have. You didn’t have any complaints about our honeymoon night, my love, and I’m sure Mary won’t, either.”
“Sam Tyson, you are the limit.” Ethel smiled, even as she admonished her husband’s outspokenness.
***
Finn woke up next to Mary, who was now his wife in every sense of the word. He propped himself on one elbow to stare at her in the early morning light. Such happiness surged through him, he could not believe he wasn’t dreaming.
It was not a dream, though. The softness of her sweet body pressed against his, her warm breath caressing his bare chest. This was real. All too real, because he didn’t want to leave her, even though he must.
No one would be safe until Clampett was captured. Dead or alive. He did not care which it was now, after Sam had told him about the savagery of his violation of the rancher’s wife.
Sam had offered to come along with him, but he had refused his help. He always worked better alone. In any case, Sam and Ethel had Mary to look after. If something did happen to him, Sam had promised he and Ethel would care for Mary. In a few short hours, they had come to love her like the daughter they never had.
His sweet Mary was easy to love. Beautiful, both inside and out because of her faith. In between their lovemaking last night, they had spoken a lot about, well, everything and he felt like he knew the real essence of Mary and loved her even more because of it. He had not prayed in years, yet he did now. “Please, God, let me come back to her.” He brushed his lips across her cheek and eased himself away from her and climbed out of bed.
“Finn?” she queried drowsily.
“Yes, it’s all right, darlin’, go back to sleep.” He stood motionless and watched while she did so.
He would not have the strength to leave her if she begged him not to. Quietly he dressed. He would collect his gun belt on the way out and his duster.
Sam met him in the kitchen. Ethel was also up and had cooked him ham, eggs and potatoes.
“You didn’t need to do that.” He sat down and tucked in.
“Yes, I did. You need a good breakfast to start off your day. Don’t worry about Mary, she will always be safe with us.”
“Thank you. I spoke with the bank yesterday, so she can take money out of my account whenever she needs it.”
“I’ll go and collect Maverick for you,” Sam said. “I told Jake to have him saddled and ready. The quicker you leave town the better. There’ve been a couple of strangers snooping around. Could be nothing, but you can’t be too careful when dealing with someone as dangerous as Clampett.”
Finn nodded.
“Don’t take any risks. The fiend doesn’t deserve to live, and no one will think any less of you for killing him. Take him to the nearest town. The sheriff there will let me know.” Sam left the kitchen, quietly closing the door behind him.
After eating breakfast, Finn gave Ethel a hug, buckled on his guns, put on his hat and duster, and with one glance around the large homey kitchen, let himself out the back door and strode to where Sam waited with Maverick.
The two men shook hands before Finn mounted and rode out of town, forcing himself not to look back, in case he weakened and returned to Mary’s loving arms.
Chapter Eleven
Mary woke up and angled her head. Finn’s side of the bed was empty, the imprint of his head still on the pillow. She vaguely remembered him kissing her goodbye. “Please, God, bring him safely home to me.”
After she washed and dressed, Mary wandered out to the kitchen, drawn there by the aroma of freshly baked biscuits. She had plaited her hair and left it hanging down her back. Ethel had suggested, with Finn and Sam’s agreement, that it was better to stay indoors until her face healed up to prevent awkward questions. Like a general marshaling her troops, Ethel had a plan ready to enact to fill in the hours until Finn returned.
Firstly, they were going to decorate the Christmas tree. Do more baking for Christmas, as if there was not enough already, and make new curtains for the sitting room. Her list appeared endless.
“Good morning, Mrs. Muir.” Ethel winked and heat surged through Mary. Thankfully, Sam was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m a naughty woman,” Ethel said. “Take a seat, dear. How do fresh biscuits sound?”
“Lovely, thank you.”
“And a nice cup of tea, my mother’s panacea for just about everything.”
“I miss Finn already.”
“I know, dear, and if it’s any comfort, he didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he had to.”
The biscuits were light and fluffy, causing her to wonder how Ethel got them that way.
“These are delicious.”
“One of my mother’s recipes, they’re called scones in England.”
“I didn’t know that.”
After breakfast, Mary insisted on helping Ethel with a few chores. She walked down the backyard where the branches of a huge tree sheltered the hen house. There was a large herb and vegetable garden. Obviously, the Tyler’s were self-sufficient.
They had no guests, other than her, staying here. After Christmas, the bank staff changed and they usually had one or two junior staff members taking up residence. It would not bring in a lot of money but as Finn had said, it complimented Sam’s wages and they lived a comfortable existence.
“Here chick, chick.” She threw a couple of handfuls of grain toward the dozen or so chickens who scratched around behind a wire enclosure. The nesting boxes were at the back with push up doors, making egg collection easy.
Mary tipped a bucket of vegetable peelings over the fence and the chickens cackled loudly as they feasted on the fresh greens. “You, greedy things. I hope you have produced plenty of nice eggs for us. You’re spoilt, by the looks of things.”
As Mary checked the nesting boxes, she reflected on how sad it was that a couple so full of love and goodness like Sam and Ethel, had no children of their own. If she failed to give Finn at least one or two babies, she would be devastated.
Are you crazy thinking like this? They had only spent one night together. Then again, it was enough if they were lucky and God’s blessing was upon them.
***
For a week, Mary stayed inside the
comfortable house, with Ethel teaching her a few English recipes and she in return teaching the kindly woman to make German cakes and puddings, which were the only things she could cook well.
Mary plaited her hair and secured it at the back of her head for her visit to the store. She wore the dress she had been married in. They left the house, each carrying baskets.
“We’ll stock up now, in case there’s a rush on things at the last minute,” Ethel said.
“Do you think Finn would mind if I spent some of his money on a Christmas gift for him?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t. Put everything you buy on our account. Finn can fix us up when he gets back.”
If he gets back, Mary thought glumly, wondering why she felt so weepy. She missed him badly, yet with Ethel and Sam’s cheerful company she had nothing to complain about.
Walking along the street, Ethel spoke to everyone they saw, while Mary just smiled. Liddiard’s Mercantile was a good size for a town like Calico Corner. She assumed the town acquired its name because so many wagon trains had passed through in the early days. The locals seemed to refer to it just as Calico.
A tall, thin man wearing a grey apron came out from behind the counter to greet them. “Howdy, Miss, you’re the German pastor’s daughter who passed through here a while back, aren’t you? I’m Frank Liddiard. How can I help you?”
“Yes, she is, but she’s also married to Finn Muir,” Ethel said.
“What!” The shocked expression on the man’s face caused her to smile, but Ethel went into peals of laughter.
“Well, congratulations. Finn is a lucky man. Would you like to browse around, Mrs. Muir?”
“Please, call me Mary.”
“Only if you call me Frank.”
“Have a wander around, dear. I’ll order what I need, then I might be extravagant and buy a few extras.” Ethel laughed.
Mary wandered around the well-stocked store, which was neatly set up. Foodstuffs down one end, women’s apparel at the back. She paused beside a pretty, blue bonnet with tiny white and pink flowers around the brim. Sighing, she headed toward a large shelf containing neatly folded undergarments. Ethel’s clothes had been reasonably comfortable, but there was nothing like having your own. Two pairs of drawers and two camisoles, she cut her needs down to the barest essentials.
“Imagine any woman lowering herself to consort with the likes of Finn Muir,” a middle-aged matron said to her younger companion.
Mary’s blood nearly reached boiling point. “Excuse me, Madam, Finn Muir happens to be my husband.” She raised her voice slightly. “He’s out risking his life to make things safe for decent folk.”
“Only for the bounty,” the woman snapped, the hard-faced old battle axe.
“Well said, Mary.” Frank marched up to her with the nasty woman at his heels. “If you’re not buying anything, Viola, I suggest you move on and make room in the store for those who are.”
With a self-righteous sniff and an icy stare, the woman stomped off with her companion scurrying along behind her.
“Mother and daughter,” Ethel said. “Both horrible.”
“Now, Mary, Ethel tells me you are interested in undergarments.” Mrs. Liddiard shooed her husband away.
“Yes, thank you. Ethel said it would be all right if I put my purchases on her and Sam’s account.”
“Of course. When Finn returns, we can set up an account for him. Your husband is always welcome here. There are a few nasty types like those two around, more is the pity, but most people are kind.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Liddiard. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did to that woman. Father taught me to always turn the other cheek, but to say such dreadful things about Finn when he isn’t here to defend himself. I couldn’t let her get away with it.”
“Call me Myrtle, please.”
“If you hadn’t said something, Ethel would have. I only heard the tail-end of the encounter, or I would have told her off myself. She’s the most vicious gossip in Calico.”
“You look after Mary, Myrtle. I want to call in on Sam to see if he’s heard anything from Finn. I’ll come back for you in a few minutes, dear.”
“Maybe I should go, too.”
“No, my dear. You stay here and do your shopping. She’s not to worry about spending too much money, either.” Ethel swept out leaving them together. Frank was serving another customer.
“Now, tell me what you want.”
“The plainest and cheapest undergarments you’ve got.”
“We’ve got a nice line of drawers and matching camisoles, lace trimmed and not too expensive.” Myrtle surveyed Mary with slightly narrowed, assessing eyes.
“While Ethel is away, I’d like to buy her and Sam a small gift for Christmas, they’ve both been so good to me. What would you suggest?”
“Well, there’s a new shipment of fancy soap recently come in. I know for a fact Ethel likes the rose scented ones. I could wrap it up pretty for you.”
“Thank you, I’ll take one. What about Sam?”
“Well, he does indulge himself with a cigar or two on special occasions.”
“I’ll have some. Now, I want something for Finn. What do you think? A shirt, maybe?”
“No.” Myrtle steered her over to the menswear section. “A nice waistcoat would be perfect.”
“Ooh, yes, I never thought of that.” Mary flipped through the rack and finally decided on a black waistcoat, perfectly plain except for strips of gold embroidery on either side of the buttons. It would be perfect for him to wear out. She would have liked to have bought him a white shirt to go with it, had she been able to afford it. It did not sit well spending someone else’s money.
“Right, is that all?” Myrtle asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Frank will deliver these after closing time. I can wrap the presents up pretty for you and put them in with the undergarments.”
“That would be perfect. Thank you for being so kind.”
Smiling, Myrtle waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ve enjoyed helping you shop. That’s one of the things I miss about not having my daughter close by.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Yes, she’s married to a rancher and lives just out of Denver. I’ve got three grandsons. I really miss them. I’d love to visit more often, but with the store and all, it just isn’t possible. When I was younger, I used to travel down on my own a couple of times a year, but I’m past doing that now.” She sighed.
“It must be hard for you.”
“Yes, my daughter tries to get back every twelve months or so with her youngest. The two older boys are busy helping their father.”
“I can see it would be hard.”
“If it wasn’t for Ethel and a couple of ladies from the church, I sometimes think I’d go mad.”
Mary squeezed the woman’s wrinkled hand. She had to be sixty years old, at least.
“Just between you and I, Frank would sell the place if he could find the right buyer. He’s worked here all his life. His parents opened it in the early days of Calico, so he feels obligated to keep it going, or to pass it on to someone who will care for it like he does.”
Ethel’s return interrupted them.
“Has Sam heard anything?” Mary dashed up to her.
“Yes. Good news. Finn is on his way back.”
“Thank the Lord,” Myrtle cried out.
“Thank you, God,” Mary whispered. “What about that horrible Clampett man?”
“He’s dead.”
“Finn?”
“Yes, there was a shoot-out and Clampett was killed.”
“I’m glad,” Mary said. God forgive her for saying it, but she was.
“Now, we better head off. We can all feel safer in our beds now. Thanks for looking after Mary for me.”
“A pleasure. I enjoyed it.”
“Thank you, Myrtle, I did, too. I hope to see you soon.”
“You will. Fred and Myrtle will be at the Christmas Eve servi
ce. You’re still coming over on Thursday with the other ladies for my afternoon tea?” Ethel asked.
“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.”
Chapter Twelve
Christmas Day arrived and still no Finn. He was not going to make it. Mary’s heart dropped to her boots. She did so want him to be here for their first Christmas.
The house abounded with festive cheer. The sitting room was decorated with colorful streamers. The Christmas tree, sitting in a tub in the corner, was festooned with colorful ornaments and gold lace was draped through the branches. On the very top, resplendent in a shiny, white gown threaded with silver, was a pretty angel. Presents were neatly stacked under the tree, including hers.
Their special Christmas luncheon consisted of roast turkey, roasted vegetables, English plum pudding with brandy sauce and Ethel’s special mince tarts. Everything was ready with one exception. No Finn.
“He’s not coming,” Mary wailed.
“He will come. We can hold the food off for a little while longer.”
“Do you think Finn will like his waistcoat?” she said, trying to get herself under control and not spoil Christmas for these good people.
“Yes, but I’m sure he will like your other gift better.”
“What other gift?”
Ethel stared into her face, her eyes twinkling. At least Finn would see her looking her best, now her face was back to normal. That’s if he came back.
“What gift?”
“He’s going to be a father,” Ethel said.
“What! How do you know, when I don’t really know?”
“I could have told you a week ago that you were expecting.”
“How?”
“I can see it in your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Yes. It’s a gift, passed on from my mother. Within a few days of conception there is something in a woman’s eyes, if you know what to look for.”
“How can that be true?”
“I can’t explain exactly what it is, I just know. And Mary, in nearly forty years, I’ve never been wrong.”
Mary patted her stomach. Could she be carrying Finn’s baby? Her woman’s time was a few days overdue, but she had put it down to worrying about him.
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