by Kit Morgan
Eva covered her mouth with her hands to keep from laughing. “I hope you're right, Mr. Dalton, and they don't break a window or something.”
“Oh, they've already done that,” he said. “But I aim to see they learn to use them the right way. A slingshot can come in mighty handy when you're skilled with one.”
Eva let her hands drop to her sides. “I suppose so.”
He started down the stairwell after his sons when he stopped and turned. “I'll see you at the wedding, then?”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Did Finn invite you?”
“No, Mrs. Brown down at the boarding house did.”
“Oh heavens,” Eva mumbled to herself. “Alright then, I'll see you in the pumpkin patch!”
Mr. Dalton laughed, then turned and headed down the stairs.
Eva smiled, went down the stairs herself and watched the Daltons leave. This was going to be some wedding.
She was so preoccupied with that thought that she didn’t see the figure hiding in the shadows. Until it was too late.
* * *
Finn left his father at the mercantile with his mother, having run into her there, and headed back to the funeral parlor. He strolled along, wishing he had the time to take a short nap. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, and sneaking out of the house to meet Mr. MacDonald was only part of the reason.
They’d agreed to meet in the graveyard after midnight, and Finn was relieved when the Scot showed up with nothing to report. Just as he’d thought, the note was nothing more than an intimidation tactic meant to gauge Finn’s reaction. Mr. Slade wanted to try and bully Finn into giving him the information he was after, then move on. But Finn wasn't so sure, even if the Scot appeared to be. He'd kept a wary eye out the rest of the night to ensure his family was safe from intruders or any other mayhem that might be lurking about.
He reached the funeral parlor and was surprised to find Eva standing in the doorway.
“Here now, lass,” he said. “What do ye think coming downstairs by yerself? Is your ankle better then?”
She looked at him, her face expressionless and shook her head.
“Eva?” he asked, his stomach suddenly knotted with tension. Then he saw the arm wrapped around her tiny waist.
Thaddeus Slade stepped out from behind her and put a small dagger to her throat. “We meet again, Mistah Mullaney,” he drawled.
Finn froze. His eyes darted around looking for any sort of help, but he saw no one. Most folks were doing business elsewhere at this time of day.
“Don't even think ‘bout callin’ out fah aid,” hissed Thaddeus. “Ah'll slit her throat in the time it takes ya to blink yah eye.”
Finn balled his hands into fists and glared at him. “What do ye want?”
“Wheah's Lawcan Brody?”
“Let her go and I'll tell ye,” Finn said as he caught a movement at the end of the boardwalk to his left. Was it the Scotsman?
“Don't play games with me, Mistah Mullaney. Tell me wheah he is, and Ah'll be on mah way.”
Finn looked into Eva's frightened eyes. There was no help for it; he was going to have to tell him even if it did mean putting Lorcan's life in danger. “All right, then, but what guarantee do I have that ye’ll not harm the lass?”
“None, other than mah wuhd.”
“Sorry, sir, but ye don't seem the type to keep it.”
“No hahm will come to her, so long as ya give me what Ah want.”
Finn opened and closed his fists a few times, then let out his breath as an idea came to him. “He's gone to Seattle,” he said grudgingly.
“Seattle?” Thaddeus said in astonishment. “You don’t expect me to believe that.”
“That’s why he went there. He figured that was one place no one would guess.”
Slade gave that some thought. “Ah see his point. Thank ya kahndly, Mistah Mullaney.”
Finn heard a wagon rapidly approaching, and for a moment he felt relieved. Help had arrived! He turned toward the sound, praying whoever it was had a gun.
The wagon stopped in front of the funeral parlor in a swirl of dust. The driver looked right at Mr. Slade. “Let's go before we’re found out!”
To Finn’s utter horror, Thaddeus began to drag Eva across the boardwalk toward the wagon. “What are ye doing? Let her go!”
“’Fraid Ah cain't do that.”
“Why not? I gave ye what ye wanted!” As far as Slade knew.
“Ah said Ah’d be on mah way, and Ah wouldn't hahm her,” he answered, grinning evilly as he dragged her toward the wagon. “Ah never said Ah'd let her go. But I will huht her badly if ya follah us, oah make a move to stop me. Zat undahstood?”
Finn growled low in his throat and thought of rushing him. Then something whizzed past his head and pelted Thaddeus Slade in his. He teetered, and the hand holding the knife to Eva’s throat slackened. The driver of the wagon stared at his partner in shock as he slumped to the boardwalk, then slapped the horses hard with the reins. He was off like a shot only to have his wagon stopped by … the Scotsman?
Finn shook his head, unable to believe his eyes as Dallan MacDonald, standing in the middle of the street, reached out, grabbed one of the horses by the bridle and pulled the wagon to a stop! How could any man do such a thing?
But there was something more important for him to think about. He raced to Eva just as her knees gave out and she sank to the boardwalk in a faint. “Eva, lass!” he cried as he pulled her into his arms. “Are ye all right?” He looked her over carefully and noticed a small cut at the base of her neck; a sure sign Slade was prepared to do her harm. He quickly pulled out his handkerchief and put it over the wound to stop the bleeding. “There now, I've got ye. Don't worry, he can't hurt ye anymore.”
He glanced at the fallen form of Thaddeus Slade, who lay on the boardwalk, out cold. A large red lump was forming at his temple, another on his forehead. Glancing around, his eyes finally landed on three small heads at the end of the boardwalk. “Why, ye wee heathens! Get over here!”
He was vaguely aware of the Scotsman grabbing the driver, pulling him off the wagon seat, and planting his fist in his face as the Dalton boys approached. “We’re sorry, Finn!” Nate cried. “But he was gonna hurt her! We had to!”
Finn eyed the trio as he held Eva in his arms. “Are ye all right, lass?” he asked her again, never taking his eyes off the Dalton boys.
“Yes … I think so,” she replied as she roused. “I'm so sorry, Finn! I’d been talking to the boys and their father, and he must’ve snuck in, and I …”
“Hush, lass, it's all right.” He removed the handkerchief and examined the cut on her neck. It had stopped bleeding – thankfully, the fiend hadn’t slit an artery. She would heal fine. “Which one of ye did it?” he asked the boys.
Walton, Nate, and Bart all looked at each other. “We all did,” said Nate, his head hung low with guilt.
Finn's eyes widened. “What?” He quickly took another look at Thaddeus. There were three marks, in fact – he hadn’t seen the one on the man’s jaw. “Ye mean ye … that all three of ye …” He held out his arm to the three. “C’mere, lads!”
“Ya mean you're not mad at us?” asked Walton.
Finn grabbed him and gave him a fierce hug with his free arm. “Why, ye wee ne’er-do-wells, ye just saved my bride! How can I be mad at ye?”
“We thought we saw someone in the funeral parlor when we came back to see if you were home yet,” explained Bart in a rush.
“Yeah, we weren’t sure who it was, but we figgered maybe Miss Eva’d been talkin’ business with ‘em,” added Nate.
“But then we saw Miss Eva get pulled into the doorway, and he was behind her, and we figgered somethin’ wasn't right,” said Walton.
“So we hid at the end of the boardwalk to try to figger out what to do,” Bart continued. “Then you came, and, well …”
“I don't know how to thank ye, lads. I can’t believe ye hit him without hurting Eva!”
“That was easy!” Bar
t declared. “He’s a lot taller than she is.”
Finn laughed at that, then kissed Eva's cheek and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry I wasn't here, lass.”
“Finn, it's all right, I’m safe.” Eva looked at the boys and smiled. “I'm so glad they came and got those slingshots earlier.”
“Aye – if they hadn’t, this could've been a lot messier.” Speaking of messy … Finn turned to look at the wagon up the street. The driver had been stripped down to his long- johns and now lay trussed up like a rabbit in the wagon’s bed. The Scot stood next to it, a proud smile on his face.
He approached them, his long legs closing the distance rapidly. “Weel now, what ha’ we here?” He reached down, grabbed Thaddeus by the collar of his jacket and yanked him to his feet. “Saints, lads, ye knocked him cold! Where'd you learn to shoot like that?”
“We've been practicing a lot,” explained Nate. “But we missed a few days on account of Finn had our slingshots.”
“Aye, because ye hit me in the head just like ye did him, with almost the same result. It's only because all three of ye hit yer marks that ye knocked him out like that.”
“Just like David did to Goliath!” Bart beamed.
“You sure you ain’t mad at us, Finn?” asked Walton.
“Lads, when all’s said and done, I owe ye some ice cream at Rosie's.”
The boys’ faces lit up with delighted smiles. “What's gonna happen to him?” Nate asked, pointing to Thaddeus, who now groaned in pain.
“We’ll have to turn him over to the sheriff,” said Finn.
Mr. McDonald looked Thaddeus over carefully. “I can take care of that, if ye don't mind,” he offered. “As soon as I'm done with him.”
Finn stood, pulled Eva up with him and held her in his arms. “What do ye mean, ‘done with him’?”
“I'll have my justice, laddie, and get the information I need from this man. Trust me, I'll give him over to the sheriff in time.”
“But what’s he going to do? Where are you going to take him? You can't keep him from the sheriff!” cried Eva.
“Dinna fash yerself, lass,” Mr. MacDonald said with a smile. “I'm no’ going to kill him, if that's what yer worried about.”
“But what makes you think he's going to tell you anything? How are ye going to get him to talk?” asked Finn.
The Scot smiled again, his grin broader now. “I'm going to let him play with my cats,” he told him with a shrug. “Willah and Essie can be very persuasive when they want to be.”
They all gawked at him. “You’re gonna let that bad man play with … cats?” asked Walton in disbelief.
“Weel, I suppose a better way of putting it, laddie, would be, I’m going to let my cats play wi’ him. They’re verra big cats – I’m sure it’ll be quite the sight.” With that, the big Scot slung Thaddeus over his shoulder like a sack of oats. “Ye might see to the one in the wagon – I'm sure he can tell ye a thing or two.” Then he turned and sauntered down the boardwalk with his prisoner.
Bart looked at his brothers, wide-eyed. “Big cats?”
“Maybe they’re lions!” Nate whispered in awe.
A few people milled around at the end of the street as the Scot approached them with his load. Deputy Blanchard ran up to him and stopped short. “What happened to him? Has there been some sort of accident?”
“Aye, and ye best take care o’ things back there, especially the one in the buckboard. Be sure ye lock him up,” he said as he strode past.
“What? What's going on here?” Blanchard asked as he looked from the departing Scot to Finn down the street. “Mullaney! Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Shut it, Blanchard, and do what he says. The man in the back of the wagon tried to make off with Eva.”
“Eva?” Blanchard said as he reached them. “Are you all right?”
“I am now. I'm just, well …” She looked at Finn, tears in her eyes. “… I was just so very scared.”
“I’ll take you down to Dr. Henderson's,” said the deputy as he took one of her arms and tried to pull her away from Finn.
“What do ye think yer doing? If anyone's going to take her to Dr. Henderson’s, it’ll be me!”
“You?” the deputy spat. “What do you care? The only reason you're marrying her is because you're mad at me!”
Finn felt Eva go stiff in his arms. “What’s he talking about, Finn?” she asked.
“Whatever it is, don't believe a word of it,” Finn told her in a gentle voice.
“I am not! He never wanted to marry you! You’re nothing but an inconvenience! He told me himself that day at Doc Henderson’s, and again at the sheriff’s office. But you don't have to worry – I’ll marry you.”
Finn rolled his eyes, and fought the urge to punch him. “Blanchard, take care of the one in the wagon and leave us be.”
“Finn,” Eva began. “What's he talking about?”
Finn held her tighter and looked into her eyes. “He's talking about the mistake I almost made before I came to my senses. You and I are going to be married, and that’s final, because …” He looked at Deputy Blanchard and glared, then turned back to her. “… because, unlike Blanchard here, I'm in love with you, and will be for the rest of my days. I’ll have no other as my wife but you.”
“You love me?” she breathed.
“Ewww, they’re talking about love stuff,” Walton said with a grimace. “Come on, let’s go find Pa!”
Nate and Bart quickly nodded their agreement. “He’s still down at the livery stable,” said Nate. “Let's go!”
“Ya think maybe we’ll see the lions?” Bart added excitedly. The three disappeared around the corner before anyone could say a word.
“You're going to do it, aren’t you?” Blanchard asked Eva while pointing to Finn. “You’re gonna marry him?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I am.”
“But he digs graves for a living! What woman wants to be married to that?”
“It doesn't matter to me that he digs graves and buries people. I would imagine he'll be burying you one day, with that mouth of yours.”
Deputy Blanchard shook in surprise at the statement, and glared at her. “You'll regret it, you'll see! The Mullaneys are nothing but poor Irish…”
“Shut your mouth, Blanchard, before I shut it for ye,” warned Finn.
Deputy Blanchard glared at them both before he spun on his heel, stomping back the way he came.
“Deputy!” Finn called after him. “Ye have a prisoner in the back of that wagon over there. I suggest ye take care of him and lock him up before I have to fetch the sheriff to do it. You wouldn’t want to lose yer job over leaving a prisoner behind, would ye?”
Deputy Blanchard turned around, snarled and headed for the wagon.
Eva watched him, then looked at Finn. “You could've let him go.”
“I think the sheriff really would fire him. He may be an ignorant cuss and a hard man to deal with, but I’ll not see him lose his job.”
Eva smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what, lass?”
“For being everything I've ever wanted in a husband.”
“Me? Everything?”
“Everything, because I'm in love with you, Finn Mullaney. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss.
Epilogue
Two days later, under the harvest moon …
“And do you, Phinehas Mullaney, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Finn smiled at Rev. Franklin, looked into Eva’s eyes, and said, “I do.”
“And do you, Eva Brock, take this man …”
Rev. Franklin’s words faded as Finn gazed at the woman before him all dressed in white, and beamed with happiness. The day after Thaddeus Slade’s threat on Eva’s life, more chaos – her mother showed up! Finn wasn’t sure which was worse. Mahulda Brock was a loud-mouthed, opinionated clanging gong of a woman, who wouldn’t take anything but her own opinion fo
r an answer.
But she was no match for Mrs. Mullaney. Let alone three stubborn Mullaneys, augmented by an adamant Mullaney-to-be in Eva.
After a couple of hours of butting heads and arguing over Finn and Eva’s wedding, Mahulda finally consented to let them have their nuptials in the pumpkin patch, instead of a church. Of course, Eva was shocked that her mother was letting her marry at all, or that she had no argument on that score. Betsy and her father must have worked on her – and maybe Pastor Adams and his wife Winnie as well. Whatever they did, Eva didn’t care, just so long as it worked. And it was obvious it had.
Mrs. Brock stood off to one side, her husband next to her, and stared intently at the young couple as they said their vows. Finn’s parents were on the other side, looking content.
“I do,” said Eva, snapping Finn out of his musings.
“Then by the power invested in me by Almighty God and the state of Oregon, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Finn looked at her. “Yer mother is being awful quiet,” he whispered. “She’s nothing like what ye made her out to be.”
“Kiss me,” Eva whispered back. “Before she changes her mind and does something.”
Finn didn’t hesitate. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her soundly. Everyone clapped, and he could hear his maither’s soft cry of joy as the kiss continued.
It still ended all too soon, as Rev. Franklin introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Phinehas Mullaney. He lifted his face from his bride’s and gazed at her in the moonlight. “Good evening, Mrs. Mullaney. A fine night, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, Mr. Mullaney – very fine.” She reached up, put her hand to the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss. Mrs. Brock snorted in shock, but was quickly silenced by Mr. Brock.
Finn broke the kiss and smiled. “I think a few things have changed in your household since ye’ve been here,” he whispered in her ear.
“I think you’re right,” she agreed in wonder.
Suddenly, something whizzed past Finn’s head. “What the … what was that?” He glanced around, his eyes landing on the Dalton boys. “You! Ye wee felons! What do ye mean slinging rocks at me on my wedding day?”