Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides)

Home > Other > Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) > Page 3
Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) Page 3

by Wilspur, Lily


  Matthew collided with her and bounced off, stumbling back a few steps before he recovered enough to face her.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you following me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matthew stammered.

  “I’m not married yet,” Polly snapped. “I’m not ‘Ma’am’ yet. I’m ‘Miss’. Miss McLane to you. Now tell me what you’re doing following me.”

  “Yes, Miss,” Matthew stuttered.

  Polly narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, come on. Spit it out. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m following you, Miss, just like you said.” Even as the words escaped his mouth, he heard how ridiculous they sounded. But he couldn’t induce his brain to operate his mouth correctly. Nothing else would come out of it.

  Polly smacked her lips in exasperation. “For his star pupil, you’re not very bright, are you? Did Brain tell you to follow me?”

  Matthew nodded in mute acknowledgment.

  “Why did he want you to follow me?” she asked. “Did he tell you?”

  Matthew nodded again.

  “What’s the matter?” Polly demanded. “Can’t you talk all of a sudden? I’m not that frightening, am I?”

  “No, ma’am.” Matthew saw her scowl and corrected himself. “I mean, no, Miss. It’s not that. It’s just I’m not used to talkin’ to a lady.”

  “What do you mean?” she shot back. “Do you have a mother?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Matthew blushed. “I’m sorry, Miss. I just don’t seem to be able to talk just now.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Polly retorted. “Just keep talking. Tell me why Brian wants you to follow me.”

  “He—I mean the Master—he didn’t like leaving you alone yesterday, Miss,” Matthew replied.’

  “The Master?” Polly repeated.

  “Yes, Miss,” Matthew explained. “The School Master.”

  “Oh, I see,” she replied. “Go on.”

  “He reckoned,” Matthew continued. “he couldn’t keep watch over you himself. He said it wouldn’t be proper. He said if anyone saw him lurking around, it would look bad for you.”

  “So?” she prompted. “What about it?”

  “He said,” Matthew replied. “that I could follow you without attracting any notice. He said you wouldn’t notice me. He said you wouldn’t be expecting anyone to follow you.”

  Polly snorted. “Well, that just goes to show how much he knows, doesn’t it?”

  “Miss?” Matthew asked.

  Polly waved her hand. “Never mind. So what does he want you to do while you’re following me?”

  “I’m supposed to keep my eye on you,” Matthew told her. “I’m supposed to let him know if Noah Bartlett comes near you again.”

  “And what good is that supposed to do?” she asked.

  “I’m supposed to go and get him the minute Noah Bartlett shows himself,” Matthew told her. “I’m supposed to go get him from his house.”

  “By the time he got here,” Polly reasoned, “Bartlett would be long gone and I could be dead.”

  “The Master wouldn’t let that happen, Miss,” Matthew assured her.

  Polly gave him a wry smile. “He said you were his star pupil. But you obviously think just as much of him as he does of you. He’s your star, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, yes, Miss,” Matthew exclaimed. “I’d do anything for the Master.”

  “The Master, huh?” Polly repeated. “That’s an interesting thing to call him.”

  “We all call him that,” Matthew replied. “He’s the School Master. What else are we supposed to call him?”

  “How about Mr. Buchanan?” Polly suggested.

  “Oh, no, Miss,” Matthew replied. “That would never do. He’s the Master. He always was and always will be, at least as long as he’s teaching at the school.”

  “I see,” Polly told him. “Well, anyway, I can’t have you following me. You’re making me a lot more uncomfortable than if I did meet Bartlett. You’ll have to stop. Now why don’t you run along and go tell Brian—I mean, the Master—” She burst out laughing. “You can tell him I don’t want you following me and I’ll be fine until tomorrow. You can tell him I thank him very much for worrying about me, but I don’t need it. All right?”

  “I can’t do that, Miss,” Matthew replied. “You see, the Master gave me a job, and I’ve got to do it. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t stop until the Master tells me to stop. If you don’t want me following you, you should tell him yourself.”

  “I will,” Polly declared. “I’m having dinner with him this evening. I’ll tell him then, and then he can tell you. Okay?”

  “All right, Miss,” Matthew replied.

  “But until then,” Polly continued. “I’ll thank you to stop following me. I don’t like it.”

  “But what if Noah Bartlett comes back?” Matthew asked.

  “I’ll handle Noah Bartlett,” Polly replied. “You don’t worry about Noah Bartlett or me or the Master. Just stop following me. That’s an order.”

  Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stalked off down the street. Matthew stared after her. What should he do? Should he go tell the Master she’d sent him packing? She was the Master’s wife—or, rather, future wife. But still, perhaps he ought to obey her as he would the Master.

  Well, either way, he couldn’t just abandon the post the Master had given him. He would wait until Polly brought up the subject with the Master. He would wait until he received his orders from the Masters lips.

  He tiptoed after Polly but this time, he made sure to follow even farther behind her than before. He would make certain she didn’t see him again.

  Chapter 7

  Polly kept on around another corner next to the church yard. Matthew watched her from behind the hotel and waited until she emerged from behind the elm trees. Then he could duck behind the trees until he found the next hiding place.

  But she didn’t come out. Had she discovered the spot where he watched her at her window? Maybe she was lying in wait for him, to catch him following her when she’d told him not to. Should he follow her and run the risk of being caught? Or should he stay put? What would the Master say if he lost her? His loyalty to the Master made up his mind. He started forward, creeping around the elm trees.

  At first he didn’t see anything, and his heart sank to think she’d given him the slip. But the sound of muffled voices drew him attention to the church yard. He spotted Polly between the grave markers, and with her was Noah Bartlett.

  The scruffy hooligan clutched Polly with his arm circled around her waist, leering his slobbering grin of rotten teeth and grizzled whiskers into her face. Polly leaned back as far as she could against his arm and averted her face. She strained against his grip and shoved against his chest with both hands, but he only laughed and hissed in her face more ferociously than ever.

  Matthew froze. Running for the Master never crossed his mind. He gaped at the scene in petrified horror.

  “So you still think you’re gonna marry that namby-coated prince of yours, do ya?” Bartlett growled. “You still think you’re gonna ride off into the sunset on a white horse? Well, you just wait until tomorrow, dearie. Old Noah’s got a rare treat planned for you and your lover-boy. Don’t you worry.”

  “Get away from me!” Polly cried. “Get your hands off me!”

  “Did you tell him about me?” Bartlett hissed. “Did you tell him we met at the train station? No? You kept it a secret, didn’t you? You kept it a secret when you saw what a kitten you’d agreed to marry. You’d rather have a real man like me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Let me go!” Polly snapped.

  With one wild flail of her arms, Polly reared back and struck Bartlett across the side of the head.

  He recoiled once, but he recovered himself with a more terrible expression on his face than ever. Polly quailed when she saw his reaction. “So that’s how it is, is it? Well, I’ll teach you who’s the Master in
this town, and it ain’t no bookworm schoolteacher.”

  With those dreadful words, Bartlett reached into his belt and pulled out his pistol. He pointed it at Polly’s heart.

  “I told you before I’d kill you if you stood against me,” Bartlett snarled. “I gave you a chance. You could have lived peaceably in this town if you’d been friendly to me. But you blew your chance, Missy, and now you’re gonna pay.”

  The thought that he had to do something kept repeating in Matthew’s head. But he couldn’t think what he ought to do. He couldn’t run for the Master. Polly would be dead by the time they got back.

  He took a few more cautious steps forward into the church yard—just enough to let Bartlett and Polly see him. His footsteps acted on Bartlett the way he hoped they would. Bartlett turned his attention away from Polly and toward the intruder.

  When he saw Matthew, Bartlett’s hideous snarl turned to a mask of fury. “What are you doing here?”

  Matthew didn’t say anything. Contrary to his best intentions, he didn’t do anything, either. He just stood there, watching. It was the only thing he could do.

  But it worked. Bartlett fumed and seethed and raged and bared his nasty teeth, but he couldn’t do anything to Polly with Matthew watching. He took a step back and brought the muzzle of his pistol up to Polly’s face.

  “You can’t hide from me,” he growled. “I’ll find you, and I’ll get you. Just you wait until tomorrow morning.” He backed away and vanished into the bushes.

  Polly stared after him until he passed out of sight. Then she crumpled to the ground in heart-broken sobs.

  Matthew hurried over and squatted next to her. “Don’t cry. Miss. Everything will be all right.”

  “How will it be all right?” Polly sobbed. “I have to live in this town. I can’t stay behind locked doors all my life. He’ll find me, one way or the other. To listen to him talk, I won’t even be getting married tomorrow. He’ll kill both Brian and I at the church.” She dissolved into a fresh burst of weeping.

  Matthew put his hand out to pat her on the shoulder, but he didn’t dare touch anything belonging to the Master. “Don’t cry, please, Miss. I’ll go get the Master. He’ll make it all right for ya.”

  Polly’s head jerked up and her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say a word to Brian about this. It’s bad enough I told him about what happened at the train station. If Bartlett finds out I told him about this, too, we’re both as good as dead.”

  “But I promised the Master…” Matthew began.

  Polly’s tears flew away from her face as she spat out her words. “I don’t care what you promised the Master! You’re not telling him anything.”

  “But we can’t let Noah get away with this,” Matthew replied. “We have to do something to stop him.”

  “There is no way to stop him,” Polly declared. “I’ve seen his kind before. If he’s gotten away with this sort of thing this long, then he’ll keep getting away with it. The only way to live with it is to keep quiet about it. Maybe Brian and I can get married tomorrow and live our lives without too much interference from Noah Bartlett. That’s the best we can hope for.”

  “I have to tell the Master,” Matthew replied. “I promised him I’d let him know the instant Noah came anywhere near you.”

  Polly went still and hard, and her icy cold words made Matthew shiver even worse than the sight of Noah man-handling her. “If you tell him, I’ll make sure you never have anything to do with him again. You won’t be the teacher’s pet anymore. I’ll be his wife and I’ll make sure of it.”

  Chapter 8

  Matthew collapsed in defeat. Whatever else happened, he couldn’t lose the Master. Maybe if he didn’t find out Matthew kept the confrontation secret, he would marry Polly and live happily, never the wiser.

  “All right, Miss,” he whispered. “I won’t tell him.”

  Polly straightened up. “Good,” She got to her feet. “Now I have to get back to the hotel. I have to get ready for my dinner with him.” She eyed Matthew. “Are you going home now?”

  Matthew shook his head and moved a pebble back and forth on the ground with his toe.

  “You’re not going to his house, are you?” Polly asked.

  “No, Miss,” he answered. “I won’t do that.”

  “Then where are you going?” she demanded.

  Matthew shrank under her gaze. How did she seem to know what he planned? “I’m just going around town, you know…to visit my friends.”

  Polly pursed her lips. The tears dried on her cheeks. “All right. Go ahead.”

  Matthew hesitated. Did she know he didn’t intend to go anywhere, but to wait there behind the elm trees to watch her in her room? He stared at the ground, unable to look her in the eye. But the longer he hesitated, the more certain she would be that he was lying.

  “Go on,” she repeated.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He turned around and walked away, back around to the other side of the church yard where she couldn’t see him. Finally, he dove down behind the bushes to wait until she went into the hotel

  He didn’t have long to wait. After he disappeared, she passed the other way, around the corner toward the hotel’s front door. Matthew heard the creak of the hinges and the thump of the door closing behind her. Then he came out of his hiding place and resumed his watch at her window.

  Something still disturbed him, though. What was it? He couldn’t settle into his role as sentry, not with the secret of Noah Bartlett’s latest assault on Polly hanging over his head. The specter of the Master loomed in front of his eyes. He would never be able to look the Master in the face if he kept this secret.

  Polly would probably hide in her room for the rest of the day. Matthew couldn’t blame her if she never went out alone again. And now he, too, had made enemies of the Bartletts. He would never be able to set foot in the schoolyard without the dread of meeting Felix. He would never have any peace again as long as he lived.

  At least he shared that with the Master and his new wife—them and dozens of other people around this town. No one could live here without eventually making crossing paths with the Bartletts. Even those people who tried to stay out of their way only made themselves known as cowards and easy targets for the Bartletts’ wrath.

  Matthew fidgeted, trying to make up his mind. Should he stay here on guard, or should he go to the Master’s house and tell him what happened? He couldn’t win, either way. Polly’s curtain swayed with some movement inside the room. She was safe in there. She wouldn’t catch him sneaking off.

  He made up his mind to go, to pour out his guts to the Master and throw himself on the mercy of the Master’s good nature. He turned around to walk away and ran bodily into the Master standing behind him.

  The Master caught him by the shoulders of his shirt and prevented him from toppling over into the dust. “What are you doing?”

  “I was just going to find you,” Matthew admitted.

  “What for?” the Master demanded. “Is everything all right?”

  Matthew’s resolve flew away from him, leaving him once more floundering in a quandary of indecision. “Everything’s fine. She’s up in her room.”

  The Master looked up toward the window. “I’m just going inside to have dinner with her. You don’t need to stay here. You can go home now, if you want to.”

  Matthew stuttered a lame reply. “I don’t want to go home.”

  The Master smiled at him. “You’ve done a good job for me. I’m grateful to you.”

  But the incantation failed to produce the same effect that it had yesterday. “It was nothing.”

  “What are you going to do now?” the Master asked.

  Matthew shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

  “You’ve got your fractions to work on,” the Master teased. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend your Saturday catching up on schoolwork.”

  Matthew hung his head and shook it. “No.�
��

  The Master frowned at his strange behavior. “Well, I’m going in now. I’ll see you at the church tomorrow.”

  Matthew didn’t look up or reply. He didn’t have the heart to tell the Master about tomorrow. Maybe he wouldn’t go to the church after all, if it meant watching Noah Bartlett gun down the Master and Polly. The whole town would be there to see them get married. No one but Matthew and Polly knew it would end with blood and mayhem.

  The Master studied him another minute. Then he left Matthew standing there with his heart in his shoes.

  The confusion he felt before paled compared to this. Should he go home, the way the Master told him to? Should he go to the sheriff? Should he wait there for the Master to leave the hotel again? Should he keep guard over Polly until tomorrow?

  Matthew walked to the end of the row of elm trees. Then he came back. Then he walked around the side of the hotel toward the door. Then he went back to his place under Polly’s window.

  He turned one way, then the other, trying to organize his thoughts into something resembling logic. But it didn’t work. All of a sudden, a door opened in the back of the hotel and the cook came out carrying a bucket of slop. He dumped it into a barrel behind the building and disappeared inside again.

  Matthew’s face brightened with a brilliant idea. He went up to the kitchen door and pried it open a tiny bit. Inside, the cook and his two assistants slaved over their blazing stoves, mixing cauldrons of brew and turning meat on a spit over an open fire. None of them noticed him looking in on them. He snuck into the kitchen.

  Matthew knew something about that hotel that almost no one else knew. He ducked into the pantry. He slid along the rows of jars and hams hanging from the ceiling to the other end of the pantry, where another door opened behind the bar.

  He hid inside the pantry until the bartender went out to get another crate of whiskey bottles from the cellar. Then, Matthew crouched down and slunk behind the bar to the dining room window, where he hid behind a curtain.

  Chapter 9

  Polly and the Master sat at a table just across the room. From his hiding place, Matthew heard the Master giving the butler his order for the meal.

 

‹ Prev