Beatrice the Bride (Cowboys and Angels Book 1)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Millie laughed. “I’m not sure you’re reading the scriptures right on that one.”

  “Will we sing at the funeral?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably not, because we never have before. Callum tries to keep funerals and weddings short and sweet, not making people sit around any longer than necessary. Do you know what he told me once?”

  Beatrice shook her head. “No, what?”

  “He said he’d rather preach at a funeral than a wedding. He knows how the funeral turned out, but he’s unsure about the wedding.”

  “That’s awful!” Beatrice had never heard such a thing.

  “I know. He says it’s true, though. Now, of course he does his job and marries people when they ask. Like he married you and Arthur. He’s a good pastor.”

  “I’m sure he is. He was even the one to suggest I marry Arthur. The thought certainly hadn’t crossed my mind, and I doubt that it had Arthur’s. But I think we’re going to be happy together.” Based on her own experience and on what the strange woman had said to her, Beatrice was positive they would be very happy.

  “I think it’s wonderful that it’s working out for the two of you. I know you only married because you were alone here with nowhere to go. But you seem to have developed genuine affection for each other.”

  Beatrice smiled. “We really have. We have a great deal in common. He reads to me every night while I sew, which is wonderful. I love to read, but I need to keep my hands busy. With his help, I can do both together.” It had become her favorite time of day, sitting with him on the sofa and listening to him read.

  “I read my Bible, but I haven’t ever really read for pleasure. Callum and I make sure we read our Bible every day, though.”

  “Well, I’ve read the Bible as well, several times through. But I do prefer to read fiction. I love a story that will take me away from the real world and transport me to a place where I love to be.” Beatrice closed her eyes, imagining the world of one of her favorite books.

  Millie smiled. “I think we’re going to need to agree to disagree on the subject of reading, then. You stick with fiction, and I’ll keep reading my Bible.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Beatrice didn’t mind that they didn’t have reading in common. Now that she’d found Arthur, who read the same way she did, she was content to have other friends who didn’t share the interest. She stood up. “I think it’s time for me to get back to work. Another cake needs to be made. How many people do you think will go to the funeral?”

  “Everyone. A funeral and a wedding are the biggest parties around. People who never even met him will be there, acting as if they loved him for years.”

  “Is that normal?” Beatrice had never heard of such a thing.

  Millie shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s normal, but it’s what’s done around here. You’ll see how it goes.”

  “I guess I will.”

  Most of the baking was done by the time Arthur and Callum joined them later. “I would like to clean the church tonight,” Beatrice told Arthur. “I’ve been told it isn’t used regularly, and I don’t think it’s fitting to hold a funeral in a filthy church.”

  Arthur looked at Callum and received a nod. “We’ll take you over and the four of us will do it together. Quickly.” There was safety in numbers, and he was happier to go as a group of four than a couple.

  “Are you worried something will happen?” Beatrice asked, her eyes wide.

  “I want the Bings to be able to get home before it’s dark, so we want to hurry.” Arthur felt that answer was the easiest. He didn’t like being out after dark there, but he didn’t want her to worry more than she already did.

  Beatrice nodded. “I’ve cooked enough for supper for them to stay and eat with us, if there’s time. If there’s not, I’ll send some with them so Millie won’t have to worry about cooking when they get home.” She grabbed some rags and her broom. “Let’s go do this. We don’t have time to scrub, but at least we can get the dust off everything.”

  Arthur carried the broom, and Callum carried the rags. Millie led the way, with Beatrice at her side. “I was telling Beatrice about the funeral being more of a party than anything else,” Millie said.

  Callum nodded. “It’s strange, but I’ve noticed the same thing. People will come without even knowing the deceased, wanting to eat the food after and just enjoy a gathering. It’s odd, but that’s the way it is here.”

  Arthur shrugged. “I’m rarely able to go to a funeral. In fact, I won’t be able to go tomorrow. I’ll be working all day, as usual. Callum, will you be certain Beatrice arrives home safely afterward? I’ll walk her over before I start work.”

  “I will.” Callum smiled over at Beatrice. “I think you two getting married was a stroke of genius on my part. You two seem to be very happy together.”

  Arthur smiled. “I’m married to a beautiful, intelligent woman who knows how to cook! What more could a man ask for in life?”

  Millie grinned as she looked at Arthur. “He does seem to be more than a little taken with you.”

  “I’m afraid the feelings are mutual. We really are good together. Better than I ever dreamed we could be as I was saying my vows.”

  “You were still in shock after your parents’ deaths. For me, I wish Callum had found a way to bring you home with him. For you, I’m glad you and Arthur found each other. I could use a dear friend who lived closer to me, but that’s just me being selfish.”

  “I understand how you feel. I wish there were more women around who I could spend time with.” Beatrice linked her arm with Millie’s. “I guess I just need to make the most of the time I have to spend with you.” She’d had one best friend the whole time she was growing up, and she had never needed another. If Millie was going to be her best friend here, she’d be content with that.

  “My brother has taken steps to try to get more good women in town. I’m not sure if it will work, but I certainly hope so. We could use more women, both in Bachelor and here in Creede.”

  “I do hope it works. It would be lovely to have quilting circles and a relief society.”

  “I believe it will eventually happen, but it may not be in our lifetimes, as sad as that is to say.” Millie shrugged. “We do some quilting after church on Sundays, but since you can’t come to Bachelor, you don’t get to be part of that.”

  “Maybe I’ll ask Arthur to bring me this weekend. I can’t make any promises, but I would dearly love to be there for services.” Beatrice was nervous at the idea, but she’d have to face that road some time.

  “I would love to have you. Don’t do anything that will make it harder for you later, though. You may need a month or two to be able to go down that path. I know I would having seen what you did.”

  Beatrice nodded. “I will see how I feel about it. I’m making no promises.”

  They arrived at the church, and Callum opened the door. It was obvious the church had not been in use for months. Beatrice and Millie went to work immediately, chatting with one another as they did.

  Callum and Arthur each took a rag and helped dust off the pews. Callum paid particular attention to the podium at the front. He wanted his space to be clean when he preached the following day.

  It took a little over an hour for the women to be satisfied that the church was clean enough, and they made the walk back to the Jameson’s house in silence. They all ate the stew Beatrice had prepared before Millie and Callum climbed into their buggy and headed back to Bachelor for the night.

  After they’d gone, Beatrice looked at Arthur. “I wish our house was just a little bit bigger so I could invite them to stay the night. Then they wouldn’t have to face that treacherous path twice before I see them in the morning.” She said a quick, silent prayer for the safety of her friend and Callum.

  “Maybe we’ll add on someday. Probably not this summer, but maybe next.”

  By next summer Beatrice hoped to be expecting their first child. Or already have it in her arms. She wanted a little boy who
looked just like Arthur. She would teach him to read, and he would enjoy their family time every evening with his father reading them a story.

  “Where did you go?” Arthur asked. “You seem to have left me for a bit there.”

  She blushed. “I was thinking that by next summer, we could have our first child. I want a little boy who looks just like you.”

  He smiled. “That’s funny, because I want a little girl who looks just like you.”

  “Maybe we could have both.”

  He made a face. “Not at the same time, I hope. That would be a lot of work for you.”

  “It would, but it would be double the blessing. God has already blessed me so much by leading me to you. He can provide two more blessings in a year.” She smiled at him, thinking about how wonderful it would be to have his children.

  He drew her to him, kissing her forehead. “I want a houseful of children, too. Anything that would make you happy would please me.”

  “You’re a good man, Arthur. I’m glad I was led to you.” And whether he believed it or not, she had been.

  “By your guardian angel?”

  She shrugged. “I think so. Who knows? Maybe it was just a ghost.” Not that she believed in ghosts. Come to think of it, she didn’t believe that angels walked among men. Either way was a stretch to her belief system.

  “Just a ghost? I don’t know that I would put it that way…”

  She sighed. “I’m going to do the dishes, then I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

  “I’ll get the buggy ready in the morning so I can take all these baked goods to the church.” He looked around the kitchen, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work she’d done for a total stranger.

  “I thought people would come back here for the reception? Will we have it in the church?”

  “Yes, that’s where we’ll have it. Most have it in a home, but I don’t want you here with all those people. I would prefer you could leave when you were ready.” The very idea of her being there alone, surrounded by strangers, made him very nervous. No, that wasn’t going to happen.

  She nodded. “All right. I’ll be ready to go when you are.” She walked back toward the dishes, glad that she and Millie had washed them while they baked. But there were still more dishes than she would like to do.

  The funeral was a shock for Beatrice. The others hadn’t been lying when they’d talked about the funeral being a social event. The small church was packed with people that Beatrice knew hadn’t darkened the door of a church in decades. She looked at Millie and said, “Do all these people always come to funerals?”

  Millie shrugged. “I told you. Everyone comes. It’s very odd to me. I don’t go to funerals unless I happen to be close to the person who has passed.”

  After the funeral, Millie and Beatrice served the men who had come for the occasion. There were only two other women there, and they were dressed in a way that left Beatrice with no question as to their profession. They were obviously ladies of the evening.

  Beatrice served them both with a smile, letting them know that she was new in town and was pleased to make their acquaintance. Millie was slightly shocked at how friendly she was. “You know who they are, don’t you?”

  “They are women who entertain men for money.” Beatrice couldn’t think of a nicer way to say it. “I don’t think we should be rude to them. We don’t know why they do what they do. What if they were forced into that profession? If they hate what they do and have us looking down on them, well that makes it even harder. No, I think all people should be treated with love and respect. It’s the way of a Christian.”

  Millie smiled at her. “You know, sometimes I think you are more in touch with your Christianity than I am. You are not judgmental at all, and I have to say, that’s a fault of mine. I look at some people and judge them through and through.”

  “We all have faults to work on.” Beatrice said a silent prayer that Millie wouldn’t ask her worst fault. She wasn’t sure if believing she had a guardian angel was truly a fault, or if it was just an idiosyncrasy…but either way, she wasn’t eager to announce her visions.

  “I’m not going to ask yours,” Millie said with a smile. “If you ever want to tell me, you may, but I’m afraid I would judge you if you told me!”

  Beatrice laughed, serving another bowl of the stew to another man who looked like he had crawled out of a mine and come to the funeral as he was. “How did you know Arnold Scott?” she asked, wondering if there was a connection for this man.

  The man shrugged. “I talked to him once when he first come to town.”

  “I see.”

  The man walked on, and Beatrice was left wondering. She was willing to bet most people in the little church had never even met the man.

  When people started leaving, Beatrice looked at Millie. “All the food is gone. They ate everything.” Ten hours of slaving in the kitchen had been demolished in less than an hour by the ravenous crowd.

  “They’re not used to real baked goods.” Millie shrugged. “And now we have dishes to do. Lots and lots of dishes.”

  “We’ll handle them,” Beatrice said. “At least poor Arnold got a proper send-off.” She was happy with the part she’d played in making sure the man had the burial everyone deserved.

  “Poor Arnold?” one of the men from across the room asked. “He drew first. He was shot, but it wasn’t in cold blood, and he sure deserved it.”

  Beatrice shrugged. “He still deserved a proper burial, and I for one, am glad he got it.” She refused to speak ill of the dead, and she preferred when others didn’t around her. It made her uncomfortable.

  “He did,” Callum said, putting his hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. “Are you ready to go home?”

  Beatrice nodded. “I just need to get all these dishes to the buggy so I can take them home, then spend the next three months washing them.” She rubbed the back of her neck, already sore from the work she was about to do.

  Callum smiled. “I’ll take you to your house on our way back to Bachelor.”

  “Thank you,” Beatrice said sweetly, happy she wouldn’t have to walk home. She was already exhausted after so much time on her feet. “I didn’t cook lunch!”

  “Don’t worry about Arthur!” Callum said. “I took him a bowl of stew before you ran out. He’ll be just fine.”

  “I can’t believe I forgot to feed my husband. What kind of wife am I?” Beatrice shook her head in self-disgust. Arthur had to be her first priority.

  Millie grinned. “You’re a busy wife. And busy people forget things at times. Don’t worry, he’ll forgive you.”

  Callum nodded. “Of course, he will. I told him you wanted me to bring the stew. And if you’d thought of it, I’m sure you would have wanted me to bring it.”

  “I would have. Thank you, Callum.” Beatrice was thrilled that the man had thought of what she’d forgotten.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Beatrice realized then that she’d started to think of the reverend the same way his sister did. She hoped it wasn’t offensive that she’d used his first name so casually. “I mean Reverend Bing.”

  “There aren’t enough people who call me Callum. You are welcome to use my first name. It’s nice to hear it at times. It’s easy to lose myself in being a reverend and stop being the man.”

  “Then Callum it is. I thank you for the funeral, and for the use of your sister, and so many other things. You’ve been a true friend to me.”

  Callum smiled. “You bring joy to those around you, lass. We’re pleased to have you here.”

  Beatrice wasn’t sure if she really brought joy to people, but it was nice to hear. She nodded her thanks before carrying a load of dishes out to the preacher’s buggy.

  Chapter Seven

  After she was dropped off, Beatrice locked her door, knowing that was what Arthur wanted her to do. She, Millie, and Callum had carried in dishes, and now she needed to set to washing them.

  First, she started a pot
of soup on the stove, and then she started the long, laborious task of washing all the dishes. Thankfully, Millie had brought dishes from her home as well, so there was enough for all of the people at the funeral, some of whom had never met the deceased.

  She wasn’t half through with the dishes when Arthur came to make sure she’d made it home all right, and she gladly took a break to sit with him. “How was the funeral?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Very different. I’ve never been to a funeral with so many people…all of whom just cared about the food involved.”

  “Welcome to Creede.” Arthur grinned at her, accepting the cookies she put in front of him.

  She frowned at him. “Does anyone know who shot the man?” She’d already forgotten his name, even though she’d been the one to plan his funeral.

  “Archie.” He took a bite of his cookie. “Everyone knows it’s him, but no one is willing to go to the sheriff because everyone thinks the sheriff is in Archie’s uncle’s pocket. It’s sad.”

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t really know the sheriff, and sometimes it seems as if Archie gets away with stuff he shouldn’t, but there’s no real proof either way. I think everyone assumes that he’s crooked, and they don’t feel like they can compete with Archie’s uncle’s money.”

  “Why doesn’t everyone get together and report the sheriff?” She couldn’t understand why people just allowed things to go on as they were instead of trying to make changes.

  “I really don’t think there’s an answer to that. Most people in Creede don’t care what other people are doing. They mind their own business. I wish I could be that way sometimes.”

  She shook her head. “No you don’t! You care, and that’s a very good thing. It’s one of my favorite things about you.” She couldn’t imagine Arthur without his caring attitude. He would be a completely different man.

  “Oh? One of your favorites? What’s your very favorite?” He grinned at her, waiting for an answer.