The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0)

by Elaine Manders

  Both Erich and Prudie sprang from their chairs. “What happened?” Erich asked.

  “I’ll get some water,” Prudie said, already half way across the room.

  “I was on the way to the bank after closing. You know we have an arrangement with Mr. Winston for Friday night, and he stays late. Anyway, it was already getting dark and I cut through the alley. This fellow jumped out and pointed at gun at my head. All he said was ‘Turn it over.’ What else could I do?” Eustace took the glass from Prudie as soon as she came up, and upended it, gulping like he’d been stranded in the desert for a month.

  Erich shoved his hat on his head. “Eustace was waylaid on the way to the bank,” he explained to Prudie.

  “And this is the first Friday of the month.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” Erich knew most customers came in Friday and paid some on their bills, but why the first of the month?

  “Mrs. Stafford told everyone running credit they had to pay up by the first of the month, every month.”

  Prudie sent Erich an apologetic glance. “It helps them not to get in over their heads, Erich. Some people only pay a pittance every now and then. I’m sure you saw that when you went over the books.” She swung around to Eustace. “How much did you have?”

  “Three hundred and nineteen dollars.”

  Prudie grabbed her head like it pained her.

  Erich reached around Eustace and opened the door. “We’re going to see the sheriff. Don’t wait up for me, Prudie.” But he was pretty sure she would.

  Chapter 17

  Prudie fumed all evening. When Erich came in, she rushed to the kitchen to pour him some fresh coffee. He answered all her questions in monosyllables until she was ready to scream.

  “Well, what is the sheriff going to do about it?”

  “Investigate.” Four syllables, she was making progress.

  “Isn’t that all he’s done about the previous burglaries, and he’s come up with nothing yet?” She rapped her fingers on the table and watched him sip his coffee. “Sibbie says she hopes someone else will run for sheriff next time, and I do to.”

  “Yep.”

  “But we can’t wait until then. How are we going make up for three hundred dollars?”

  “Don’t know.”

  She pushed away from the table and crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

  He put the cup down and looked into her eyes. There was a new sadness she hadn’t noticed before. “I’m going to do some investigating of my own.”

  She waited for him to explain, and when he picked up his cup again, she wanted to shake it out of him. “What? What are you going to investigate?”

  He drained the cup and set it down before answering. “I’d rather wait to say, in case my suspicions prove wrong.”

  He got up, and she rose from her chair. “Surely you can tell me?” He didn’t trust her; shouldn’t he be able to share his thoughts with her, his wife?

  “I will as soon as I can. Think I’ll go on to bed. Good-night, Prudie.”

  He stopped in front of her and gazed into her upturned face as though he was asking with his eyes. What? The look in his eyes was like he wanted to kiss her, but fear gripped her. She stepped back and turned away. Hearing his footsteps, she breathed. Was it so hard to let her husband kiss her good-night?

  Yes. It was much too soon. There were too many other things taking up their attention without the complications of…love. The thud of Erich’s bedroom door sounded in the quiet house. She pressed her fingers to her neck and found her pulse still racing.

  Sleep eluded her until way into the night, and when she awoke, the sun flooded her room. She rushed into her clothes and made her way to the kitchen.

  Evidence of Erich’s breakfast lay in the sink, and the coffee pot was waiting for her on the back of the stove. She chided herself for not getting up in time to make his breakfast. That was the one wifely duty to her credit.

  Rusty nudged her hand, evidently looking for a handout. If Rusty wasn’t with Erich that meant Erich had gone somewhere. A glance out the kitchen window revealed only one horse in the small corral. Maybe he was out investigating.

  A new thought scared her. What if Erich knew who the robbers were and went to confront them? She almost tripped over Rusty in her haste to get to the desk in the parlor where Erich kept his holster and gun.

  The gun was still there. He hadn’t gone armed, but that gave her little comfort. She went back to the kitchen and took just enough time to smear a piece of bread with jam and share it with Rusty. It was past time to open the store, and Saturday was always the busiest day of the week. That must be where Erich was. She’d go and make sure, though she ought to clean the house first. The dishes still rested in the sink, but that would have to wait this once.

  But Erich hadn’t opened the store. Prudie found two ladies standing on the sidewalk waiting to be let in. “Good morning,” she greeted them, trying to sound cheerful. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  “We haven’t been here long,” Mrs. Halstead said.

  The other woman held up a slip of paper. “I have a list. If you could help me.”

  Prudie unlocked the door and took the list. She couldn’t remember the middle-aged blonde woman’s name, but didn’t want to ask in case she’d already been introduced.

  She was so busy all morning, filling orders and helping customers, she barely had time to think about Erich or the robbery. It went that way through lunch, and at one o’clock when Eustace showed up, she was ready to drop.

  Prudie let him take over helping the customers while she took out the ledger to record some of the transactions she’d not been able to get to. She’d just about finished when a familiar voice made her look up.

  Erich and the sheriff strode down the center aisle. Relief flashed before curiosity took over. Eustace was handling a transaction, so the men stood waiting for him to finish. Surprise registered in Erich’s eyes when he looked at Prudie, like he didn’t expect her to still be here. Which she shouldn’t be, but dynamite couldn’t blast her from where she now stood.

  When Mrs. Halstead took her change and left, the sheriff stepped forward. “I have a few more questions for you, Eustace. You say this masked robber was a big fellow.”

  “That’s right, a foot taller than me.” Eustace wasn’t tall, maybe an inch or two taller than Prudie, but the man he was describing must be a giant.

  “And he had black hair and black eyes.”

  “The man was hairy all over. Thick black hair on his forearms.” Eustace braced himself on the corner.

  Erich sent Eustace a piercing stare that caught Prudie’s attention. “And a large scar on his right hand, I believe you said.” Erich shifted his sharp glance to the sheriff. “The sheriff and I have been interviewing people all morning. Nobody knows of any man who fits that description.”

  “Must be from another town.” Eustace was fiddling with a pair of scissors used to snip the twine. He waved it around, striking a jar of peppermints. The jar toppled over. Prudie righted the jar and began picking up the pieces.

  Erich glanced over his shoulder at the knot of people crowding in. He lowered his voice so only those at the counter could hear. “When that boy was charged with the first theft, I got to studying how things went on while my grandpa was sick and after he died. I found out a few things about you, Eustace.”

  “Like what?”

  “You see, up on the mountain I learned to observe things you normally miss. Some things about you didn’t make sense, so I wanted to know what kind of fellow you were.”

  The murmurings stopped and a breath-holding silence fell over the store. “You could’ve just asked.” Eustace’s nervous chuckle punctuated his words.

  “You’re a good brother, Eustace. I found out you have a sister back in St. Louis who has a wasting disease, and the doctors cost a lot. Your pa’s gone and your ma depends on you to pay those doctors. That’s something you told me yourself. Then Si
bbie told me you’d sent them money right about the same time those robberies occurred. No, she didn’t know why I was asking. She didn’t see a connection, but I did.”

  This revelation jolted Prudie. She recalled Eustace telling about his sister and how the cost of her illness put a strain on their mother’s resources. How he had to help out. She’d assumed he was trying to get Erich to raise his pay, and worried that Erich might do just that. He was generous to a fault. But she’d never considered that Eustace was embezzling from them and covering it by inventing nonexistent robberies.

  She looked at her husband with new respect. Here she was a Harvard graduate, and she’d not put two and two together as well as he had.

  Eustace tried to control his tone. “That was just coincidence.”

  “Do you want to tell him, Sheriff?” Erich asked, as the murmuring set in with customers speculating over the situation.

  The sheriff nodded. “Eustace, Erich and I just came from talking to Mr. Winston over to the bank. He said you sent a draft to your mother this morning—for three hundred dollars.”

  Prudie almost felt sorry for Eustace as he crumbled. “I didn’t know what else to do.” His shoulders shook with the confession.

  “Come on, son.” The sheriff acted more like a father than a lawman as he draped his arm around Eustace. “Go on about your business, folks,” he told the curious by-standers.

  Before they got to the front door, Erich called out. “I’ll be down there in a little bit.” He made eye contact with Prudie.

  Most of the customers cleared out, confirming her suspicions that they’d come in to see a scene. She supposed she’d have to stay in the store since Erich was needed at the jail. “Now that we’ve lost our clerk and the money, what are we going to do?” she asked.

  Erich put his forearm on the countertop and propped against it. “We’ll pray about it and find a way, I expect.”

  That was it? Just pray about it. Seemed to her, God might want people to try to take care of their problems before expecting Him to. “We don’t have enough money to cover our next shipment. You’ll have to start peddling again. I can keep the store all day at least three days a week. If you go on the other side of town or—”

  “No, I don’t intend to do that.” Erich was trying to keep his voice low and failing. Mr. Hunley looked up from the hand shears he was trying out.

  Prudie gritted her teeth. “All right. I can take the wagon toward Brier Patch in the morning and make a circle on the back roads.”

  “No.” Erich forgot to keep his voice low. “I won’t allow you to go riding around the countryside alone. It’s too dangerous.”

  Wouldn’t “allow” her. Where had her understanding, compliant husband gone? He had everyone’s attention now. The hum of voices ceased as he added, softer, “If I have to, I can mortgage the store.”

  Prudie felt her face burning. It must be the same shade of red as her hair, but she didn’t care. “I won’t allow you to risk the store.” Wasn’t this how Samuel had lost the business? Borrowing money to throw after a scheme that turned sour? She wouldn’t stand for another man to lose all she’d worked for—or intended to work for. “I thought you were sensible. How could you even think of such a thing?”

  Mrs. Hunley had sidled to the counter, lest she miss something she could wag about to anyone not here to witness the confrontation.

  Erich looked like he wanted to argue with Prudie, or hogtie her and drag her out of the store. Something he couldn’t do, since she had to stay and serve the customers, but she saw the cords tighten in his neck. “We’ll discuss this later at home.” He turned on his heel, almost slamming into Mrs. Hunley.

  Chapter 18

  When Erich got to the jail, Eustace was sitting on the cell bunk, head in hands. The sheriff waved from his desk. “Come on over. I got the papers ready for you to sign.”

  At that moment, Erich wished he was back on the mountain, facing a mountain lion or a grizzly. He could handle animals. People were complicated, but one thing was sure. He was supposed to love his fellow man, even when the other fellow did him wrong. He made his way to the sheriff’s desk and looked over the papers.

  As he suspected, the papers pressed charges against Eustace for stealing on three different occasions. Twice before Erich had inherited and the incident from last Friday night.

  The sheriff handed him the pen, but Erich stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think I’ll press charges, Sheriff. Could we let him off this time? Seeing as how I intended to give Eustace money for his sister anyway.”

  After dropping the pen, the sheriff rubbed his neck, frustration evident in his features. “It’s not like the Jenkins boy, Erich, and I don’t think we can just drop the charges, whatever you intended to do. We have laws to uphold, you know. Aside from the thefts, Eustace gave false statements to a lawman.”

  Erich nodded and sank slowly into a side chair. “I know there are laws. What if you leveled the false statement charges only?” By now, Eustace was standing in his cell, holding onto the bars. Clearly he could hear everything that was said.

  The sheriff let out a long sigh and hunched over the desk. “What do you think your wife’s going to say about this?”

  “She probably won’t be too happy with me, but I’ll settle it with her.”

  The sheriff shrugged and got to his feet. He covered the few yards to the cell. “Well Eustace, I suppose you’ll want to speak to your benefactor. I’ll be back with your supper in a little while.”

  Erich swiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he approached Eustace. The young man looked as shame-faced and down-trodden as he’d ever seen anyone look. “I’ve asked the lawyer who settled Grandpa’s will to help with your case, Eustace. I don’t know how long you’re going to be in jail, but it’s going to get boring.” He slipped a small leather bound testament from his coat pocket and thrust it through the bars. “Here’s something for you to read that’ll help you through it all, and when you get out.”

  Eustace took the small book, a questioning look in his eyes. “You’re going to drop charges against me and help me too. Why?”

  “Because you need help, Eustace. That’s the only reason I have. When you get out, I suggest you go to stay with your ma and sister. Get a job and help them there.” Erich turned and made his way to the door. “Next time, ask for help before you go stealing.”

  “Mr. Stafford,” Eustace said. “Thank you.”

  Without turning, Erich gave a wave of his hand and slipped through the doorway. Now he had to face his beautiful, angry wife. He knew of a way to get the money to make up for their losses, but he had to convince her she shouldn’t go out peddling. Most of the folks hereabouts were good, decent types, but there were coyotes, animal and human.

  Erich didn’t know what he’d do to anyone who harmed Prudie. Likely he’d be in jail along with Eustace.

  As he feared, Prudie’s anger hadn’t abated when he got home. He tried to introduce a conversation several times, but apparently she’d decided to seethe and sulk, finding something to do in the other room. In the kitchen, she set pots clanging and dishes clattering.

  He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d left him to eat alone, but he found her sitting at her place when she called dinner. Except for the grace, they ate in silence.

  Almost before he’d finished, she gathered their plates and utensils. He followed her to the sink. “I’ll help you with the dishes tonight.” He tried to make the statement casual.

  “They can wait.” Prudie took her apron off, threw it in the sink, and stalked off to the parlor.

  She sat by the lamp, some needlework in her lap.

  Erich went to his chair. He sat on the edge, his hands open on his knees. “There’re some things we need to talk about.”

  She lifted her needle to the light. “Shouldn’t you read a passage first?”

  He took up the Bible and read from Daniel. Normally he liked to talk about what the passage meant to him, but not tonight
. He had a feeling she wasn’t listening. For a long time he just stared at her. How beautiful she was with the light falling on her fiery hair and sending a soft glow over her creamy skin. They’d been married over a month now, and he’d never had the pleasure of running his fingers through those silky locks or touching that soft skin.

  Her ruddy lips pouted, the bottom one poking out. Desire, stronger than he’d ever known, washed over him. She was his wife, and he’d never kissed those lips except for that nervous buss at the wedding.

  He returned the Bible to its place on the table. “Prudie.”

  She put her sewing away and got up to draw the curtains. He glanced up at her as she twisted and turned to get ahold on the cords. The sight of her lovely feminine curves held him spellbound and his pulse raced. She sucked the breath right out of him. Then he realized one of the curtain’s cords had twisted around the rod.

  “Let me help you.” One step took him to her side.

  Erich loosened the cord and it fell, but Prudie held his gaze. He had to leave in the morning. How long would it be before he looked into those emerald eyes? Had another chance to kiss those ruddy lips? He refused to think maybe never.

  Her face tilted upward and her eyes fluttered closed. The floral scent she used to rinse her hair intoxicated him, and the temptation was too much. He lowered his head as his arms went around her shoulders. His heartbeat thundered in his ears so loud she must hear it too.

  He expected her to push away. Instead, she leaned in, and he felt her arms go around his waist. He kissed her, gently at first, then deeper when passion flared like a smoldering ember blown into life.

  She went soft and yielding. He’d worried needlessly about how to kiss her properly. It came as naturally as…

  It was like drinking the nectar of a perfect flower. She seemed to melt into him—or he melted into her.

  With the impact of a dash of cold water, she jerked out of his arms, almost stumbling backwards. The back of her hand pressed against her mouth as her bosom heaved. “I…I can’t. I’m not ready for this.” Her voice was strangled, and as soon as she’d managed to get the words out, she swung around and raced down the hall.