A Mail Order Bride for the Sheriff: Mary Ann & Warren (Love by Mail 4)

by Christina Ward

  “Ah, there we go.” He looked at Warren. “It’ll do you good. Someone to take care of you and knock some sense into you when you’re being an idiot.”

  “She’s supposed to be a proper lady,” Warren said flatly.

  “Exactly.”

  Dan limped out of the office, but not before reminding Warren to arrange an ad with the Beckett’s help. Warren fingered his hat and smiled to himself.

  “Mrs. Turner,” he whispered under his breath. That didn’t sound at all bad.

  He grabbed his keys and left the station to see the Becketts. A clear image of a dainty and delicate lady holding parties, dancing with him at balls and mingling with the important people already formed in his mind.

  Chapter 2

  Angel Creek

  The long journey West had almost came to an end. The varied landscapes Mary Ann watched through the stage coach window had given way to a mostly brown and dusty scenery. It tugged at Mary Ann’s heartstrings, how much she missed the wide green fields of their ranch back home. But as they neared the destination a flicker of hope fluttered in her chest. Outside the town farmers tilled the land and their wives and children fed the livestock. All of them looking up to see the strangers arrive as the coach passed by.

  They came to a stop in the center of the town. The smell of hot bread straight from the oven and of the earth baking under the sun wafted to her. Angel Creek was smaller than Oakville. It was dryer, looked crowded and noisy, but she saw what was rarely present in the upper social circles back home. Everyone in Angel Creek worked hard to do their part for the community. It was like watching the cogs of her grandfather’s clock work together in perfect harmony, not a piece out of place.

  She stepped down out of the coach, cold shivers running down her spine despite the heat. Would she be able to fit in? Would she like Warren? Would Warren like her?

  Mary Ann looked around, but no one had approached her yet. Did he change his mind? But she didn’t have to wait long. Three people, two women and one man, made their way towards her. The man was unmistakably the one from the picture. His badge glistened and made her blink several times. I wonder how many times he shines that thing a day. She barely restrained a chuckle.

  “Welcome to Angel Creek!” the woman with long dark curls approached first and hugged Mary Ann. “I’m Mercy Beckett. I run the Love in the West agency that put up Warren’s ad.”

  Mary Ann expected a plump matron, but Mercy was young, petite, and cheerful. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mercy. I’m Mary Ann Crosby.”

  “Of course we know who you are,” another woman said. This one was taller, had light brown hair and wide brown eyes. “I’m Claire Shepard. You’ll be staying with my brother and I before your wedding.”

  Mary Ann nodded and turned to greet her future husband, who had looked her up and down twice already. She noticed him grimace, but when their eyes met, he schooled his features to a nonchalant look.

  Mary Ann took in a deep breath and extended a hand. “Hello,” she began. “I’m Mary Ann Crosby.”

  Warren smiled quickly, eyed her hand, then took it with a bit of hesitation.

  “Warren Turner. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He eyed Mary Ann’s single bag and frowned. “Where’s the rest of your luggage?”

  She chuckled. “That’s all there is.”

  Warren raised his brows. “What about your dresses... for different occasions? Shoes? Other accessories?”

  Mary Ann took her luggage and shrugged. “I’m not fond of those. It’s my sister, Elaine, who, loves throwing parties and dressing up.”

  Warren’s lips thinned into a line. Claire coughed into her fist and raised a brow at him, then jerked her head at Mary Ann. Strange. Warren opened his mouth, then closed it. He coughed into his fist before saying, “Let me carry your luggage.”

  He took it without waiting for a reply.

  That’s it? Mary Ann thought. She looked at the two women who were nudging each other. Maybe Warren was just shy and nervous - like she was.

  “Although we’ve exchanged some letters,” Warren began, keeping up a brisk pace, “we’ll have two weeks to get to know each other some more.”

  Ah, there we go. She smiled, she’d been looking forward to getting to know him better for a little while now. Mary Ann tried to match his stride, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage. “I remember you said you were the sheriff.”

  “I am the sheriff.” He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, and nearly collided with a string of running boys.

  Mary Ann bit her lip at his clipped tone. Was he affronted? Did he have a bad day? She looked back at Mercy and Claire, who followed at a more sedated pace, chatting in a low voice. The cold feeling of not belonging returned. Has she traded one incompatible fiancé for another? She quickly chased away the image of Laurence from her mind and turned back to Warren. It couldn’t get worse than Laurence.

  “How long have you been in Angel Creek?” she remembered him mentioning being new in town.

  “A few months. When I was appointed sheriff.”

  “We’re here!” Claire announced when they came upon a wooden two-story house.

  Warren placed the luggage at the door and nodded his head at Mary Ann.

  “I’ll have to go. Lots of things to do at the station.” He turned to Claire and Mercy tipping his hat to them. “I’ll leave my bride in your care.”

  He hurried down the steps, then looked over his shoulder at Mary Ann. “I look forward to seeing a proper lady on my arm on our wedding day.” He said it with a smile, hat tilted to show his dark blue eyes. He winked at Mary Ann, then left.

  She was too confused by his behavior to blush.

  * * *

  Mary Ann fidgeted in her seat while the women kissed one another’s cheeks and bade farewell. There were only four left: Joy, the fashionable young host of the afternoon session, Hannah, a mail order bride married to a farmer, Claire and Mercy.

  Mary Ann imagined the work she could’ve been doing in the pastor’s garden had Claire not dragged her off to Joy’s to talk fashion, make up and gossip. But the older woman had said it would do her good to make friends with other women, especially to meet other mail order brides like herself.

  “So,” Joy began, leaning forward, “how’re you finding Angel Creek?”

  Among the four women, Joy had been the most excited about Mary Ann’s wedding. It made sense when Mary Ann learned that she had gotten married just a few months ago.

  “When I came here, the heat was unbearable!” Joy continued, hands flailing. She sure was the dramatic one.

  “It was summer,” Claire muttered.

  “And when I first came here,” Mercy added, “it was winter time, although we didn’t have snow that year. Just really heavy storms.” She picked up a plate of the cookies she brought and said, “Who wants one? I came up with the recipe during my first November here in Angel Creek.”

  Mary Ann picked one and was about to bite into it when Claire asked, “And you, Mary Ann?”

  She wet her lips and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. It was a simple yellow prairie dress, compared to the petticoats the women wore. Although she had some ball gowns and quality petticoats back home, she never imagined she’d need them in Angel Creek.

  “It’s a very small but pretty town,” she said.

  “It’s a bit dry,” said Joy, “but the people are such darlings!”

  Joy would love Elaine, Mary Ann thought. They’d bond over dresses and parties in an instant.

  Mercy nodded. “Angel Creek’s a good town, with decent folks once you get to know them.”

  “Except the occasional bandits,” Claire said. “I heard talk at Sarah’s house. The miners said there’ve been sightings of some outlaws ‘round the far hills.”

  Mary Ann’s eyes widened. The other women gasped. Suddenly, the air in the wide room felt suffocating. As one, they moved closer to each other, tightening their circle of chairs. Hannah looked around furtively as if
one might jump out of the potted plants by the corner.

  “How many?” Mercy asked in a hushed tone.

  “I heard maybe five or seven. Not that many,” Claire said.

  “Did any of them have a scar across their face?” Hannah asked, face nearly an inch from Claire, who shrugged.

  Hannah sighed and sunk into the cushions.

  “What’s wrong?” Mary Ann asked. Color had drained from the woman’s face.

  “Oh, nothing,” Hannah said, although the sweat rolling down her face said otherwise. “I just heard - somewhere before about a bandit with - with a scar across his face. He - he hadn’t been captured yet.”

  “Well, it’s not like we have cause to worry,” Mercy said, breaking the tension with a smile. “Our new sheriff can keep us safe, right, Mary Ann?”

  I dearly hope so, Mary Ann thought. She didn’t even know Warren that well, but she’d like to believe that he was as tough and no nonsense about his job as he was about meeting his bride. She put on a smile, more for the women than for herself. “Definitely.”

  “Now about your wedding dress,” Joy began, “I was thinking about something blue...”

  Chapter 3

  “This is the station,” Warren said, placing his hands on his hips, eyes sweeping the small building. With only one window and one door, there wasn’t much to show to his future bride. The jail cells were there so he could lock up the occasional drunkards and petty troublemakers if needed. The cells were bare, but clean at least.

  Mary Ann looked up at the room, then at him. “So you man this by yourself?”

  Warren nodded, his lips twitching. He didn’t want to look like he was tooting his own horn. Need to look dignified. He cleared his throat. “Yup. Just me. It’s a tough, sometimes thankless job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

  He gestured for her to sit on a chair, while he sat on his desk. He placed his hat beside him and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Now, about the wedding, what color is your dress?”

  Mary Ann gaped at him.

  Darnit. He sounded like a pansy. He cleared his throat. “I mean, Joy Briggs asked me about the final preparations for the wedding. Make sure our clothes match, that kind of thing. That the decorations don’t, uh, clash with your dress or somethin’ like that.”

  Mary Ann blinked, then lowered her head. Pink dusted her cheeks.

  “Um, I don’t really have a showy dress. I do have a simple brown petticoat-”

  “Brown? You’ll get lost in the crowd with everyone else wearing something like that!” Warren shook his head. He and Mary Ann should stand out at their own wedding! “How about yellow? Red? I dunno, something bold with fur?”

  “It’s not winter yet!” Mary Ann suddenly blurted, then she reddened and muttered, “Sorry... I, uh, I don’t have those kinds of colors.”

  Warren rubbed the back of his neck. “Never mind. I’ll ask Joy to find you one.”

  He unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt. Maybe he should have another window carved into the room. Mary Ann’s eyes wandered the room, darting from the bare walls that held only a cross, to the iron cells.

  Say something. He racked his head for another subject of conversation, but all those years learning to shoot, ride a horse, hunt outlaws, and skin a wild animal never mentioned how to talk to a woman.

  Suddenly, there was a scream, a shout, and a neigh. Warren rushed outside, almost relieved that there was something else for him to do other than berate himself on his ineptness at conversations.

  Outside, a black horse reared up on its hind legs down the road. Two women had screamed as they threw themselves out of the way. The horse kicked its forelegs in the air scattering everyone nearby.

  A man tried to grab the horse’s rains, but the bucking creature continued to evade capture. Warren squared his shoulders and took a step forward - but Mary Ann beat him to it. She rushed past him heading straight for the danger.

  “Wait!” he called, running after her. “You’ll get hurt! Mary Ann!”

  The horse butted the man away and turned to Mary Ann. Warren’s heart jumped to his throat at the sight of the wild animal throwing its hooves in the air, about to bear down on his bride!

  But Mary Ann nimbly got out of the way and grabbed hold of the reins. She was in control, yet Warren was still sweating buckets. If the horse suddenly decided to kick her... He’d once seen a grown man go down like a tree from a single kick.

  “Calm down,” Mary Ann said, running a hand down the horse’s mane, while stepping in rhythm with the horse to get out of range of its legs. She kept stroking him, while saying softly, “Down, boy, down.”

  She never let go of the reins, despite the horse’s attempts to flee.

  Warren rushed towards her, but she looked at him over her shoulder and said, “Stay there. Don’t move.”

  “What?” He was the sheriff of this town! And her future husband! Why was she ordering him around, and in front of people at that.

  “Just stay there, you’re scaring him,” she admonished, turning back to the horse. She continued her strokes while Warren seethed behind her.

  “I’m scaring him?” Why? Was he waving a gun in the air?

  Unfortunately, Mary Ann couldn’t feel the heat of his glare. She patted the horse’s face slowly and gently. “Shh...” She fished for something in her pocket, then took out a sugar cube and handed it to the horse who gobbled it up like the two were best friends forever.

  “There, there,” Mary Ann caressed the horse’s head.

  Was it normal to be jealous of a horse?

  Warren took a deep breath, puffed his chest and walked cautiously towards Mary Ann. “How on earth did you do that? And where’d you get the sugar?”

  “I grew up on a ranch, remember? We had plenty of horses there.” Mary Ann smiled. “I asked Claire for some sugar cubes this morning. I was thinking of visiting a ranch later today anyway. I wanted to see the local horses.”

  The man who had run after the runaway stallion approached them, panting. “That was pretty impressive, lady.”

  He wasn’t the only one who thought so, though. The women who had screamed earlier, looked on appreciatively at Mary Ann, and some of the men who were watching nodded in approval before moving on.

  But Warren had nearly popped a vein. “Impressive? She could’ve been killed. What were you doing with that horse? If you didn’t know how to handle it -”

  “Actually, that horse was for you, Sheriff.”

  “- you should’ve asked someone else to - what? What did you say?”

  “It’s a gift from the mayor for your new position... and a sort of wedding gift.”

  Mary Ann gasped, then threw her arms around the horse’s neck. “Oh, he’s a beauty! And he’s yours!”

  Warren looked at the man wiping sweat from his brow. “Well, Sheriff? You gonna take ‘im?”

  The horse was a beauty, of that there was no doubt. It snorted and bumped Mary Ann with its nose. Well, of course, he was the sheriff, and riding into town on a faithful steed would be a sight to behold and enough to send riffraff running for the hills.

  But the man should’ve still been more careful. Who knows how many people could’ve gotten hurt? He was about to reprimand the man when Mary Ann flashed him a bright smile. The words got caught in his throat. All he could muster was a glare at the man, and a mumble, “You’re lucky no one got hurt.”

  “I’m lucky your future missus is pretty good with horses.” The man grinned and walked away.

  Warren didn’t know how to feel about that, but something sharp hooked into his insides. Mary Ann certainly wasn’t the kind of bride he expected.

  * * *

  The cool breeze tickled the back of Mary Ann’s neck as she and Warren walked across the fields. The rolling green fields reminded her of home.

  “Sunset’s pretty nice this edge o’ town,” Warren brushed his fingers through his hair. “Well, that’s what Mercy Beckett says anyway.”

&nbs
p; Without his hat, his dark brown hair wrestled with the wind. Mary Ann bit her lip to keep the smiling to a minimum. She didn’t want Warren to think she was ogling him, so instead, she turned her face to the sun.

  “I agree. It’s pretty here. I like it better than a busy city. Growing up on a ranch made me appreciate nature and hard work.”

  Warren leaned against brown fence, his elbows resting over the wood. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of afternoon air. “I wasn’t raised on a ranch.”

  Mary Ann leaned next to him. She noted various emotions passing through his face - like he couldn’t settle on how to feel, sad or angry. But eventually the hard lines softened and his eyebrows settled into a subtle frown.

  “Where did you grow up?” Mary Ann asked.

  “In a big city.” Warren grinned. “Loud. Dirty. Lotsa people.”

  “Bet this is boring compared to what you were used to.”

  “Actually this is a breath of fresh air.” He chuckled, then smirked. “It’s just a bit plain, though.”

  Plain? Soft sunlight. Green fields amid a dry, dusty town in the West. Fresh and cool breeze. He must be blind!

  Warren turned to her and winked. “But our wedding’s gonna be one heck of a party, eh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He raked a tanned hand through his hair again. Mary Ann tried not to look, lest her hand fly on its own to touch those brown tussles.

  “I mean it’s gonna be the talk of the town.”

  Mary Ann chuckled. “Is that how Angel Creek always celebrate a wedding?”

  “Pfft! I’m the sheriff. You’ll be my wife. Of course our wedding’s gonna be the envy of the town and maybe the entire county!”

  Mary Ann could imagine her sister Elaine saying something like that… not her future husband. It was her time to frown.

  “I hope you’re not thinking about shiny decorations and extravagant meals.” She laughed playfully, but then stopped. The look on his face said it all. “You’re not joking.”

  “Why would I kid ‘bout this?”

  She still hoped he teased, but with every second of awkward silence disappointment grew in her mind. “But Proverbs tells us that charm is deceitful and beauty is vain.”