The Blacksmith's Mail Order Bride: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 5)

by Cindy Caldwell

  The deafening silence crushed Olivia. She slid down the side of the wall and crouched, blood rushing so loudly through her head that she couldn’t think. How could this be? With one simple act, she’d lost the shop for Joe and his brother.

  She stood, inching up against the wall of the house. Holding her breath, she tiptoed across the porch, away from the window, as quietly as she could. When she reached the far end of the house, she rounded the corner and sunk into a heap again on the floorboards.

  She shook her head slowly, trying to gather her wits about her. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes darted along the street as she looked for a place to run.

  Chapter 32

  Joe’s stomach grumbled loudly as the clock struck one. He frowned—Olivia had been gone an awfully long time just to grab some food. He’d been reticent to let her go on his own. The troubles with his mother had been getting to both of them, although she didn’t speak of it much. He knew it had to be wearing on her, as it was him.

  He’d never have guessed his mother would have been so stubborn when he’d decided to marry Olivia. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do to stay as far away as possible from that horrid woman she wanted him to marry.

  Maybe it had been a bit impulsive on his part, searching for a mail order bride and taking Olivia in, but he’d grown quite fond of her. She was beautiful, yes, and each day as he learned more about her, his fondness had grown. Today, she he’d placed his hand on her warm cheek and she’d placed her hand on his, he’d wanted to kiss her—badly. Her big heart and kindness were only a few of her appealing qualities—he knew he shouldn’t be impressed that she’d fixed Mrs. Allen’s gun, but he was.

  His lips tugged up into a smile. He’d asked her not to, but she’d done such a good job of it. And so quickly. She knew things he didn’t, even though he was the blacksmith, and her skills and courage impressed him. Even when they’d been out at the ranch, she’d had the courage to do things that hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Courageous as she was, he knew his mother could be a formidable adversary—he only had to look at Will and Carol to see that. They’d actually left and built a new home for themselves rather than accept what he’d been expecting Olivia to put up with.

  He shouldn’t have let her go on her own, and he quickly took off his apron as his stomach knotted. She should have been back by now. He flipped the sign on the door to “Closed” and hurried off in the direction of the house.

  His pace quickened as he crossed through the lanes, oblivious to the warm sun on his skin. He looked up once at the clouds that gathered, dark ones that announced there would be an evening storm. It didn’t bother him one way or another, and as he broke into a run he tried to convince himself that everything would be fine. He and Olivia would have lunch and work in the shop, return home for supper and spend a cozy evening watching the rain from inside the parlor. Maybe he’d even light a fire.

  Joe unlatched the gate to his home and slid through, his hat pulled down over his head against the coming rain. His stomach dropped at the sight of his aunt’s buggy and steeled himself, ready for anything. He stopped short at the bottom of the porch steps as he heard his mother laugh—something he hadn’t heard in a long time. It didn’t sound mirthful, however, and his breath hitched at what she must be saying to Olivia.

  He slammed the door as he entered, heading straight for the kitchen.

  “It really couldn’t be better, my dear. Joe will never agree to selling the shop, and it’s the perfect solution.”

  He tossed his hat on the hook and stopped for a moment, his eyes closed as the voice of his aunt sunk deep into his bones. He never should have let her come alone. Now she was at the mercy of two of them—his mother and his aunt.

  They both stood as he pushed through the door, his eyes darting around the kitchen in search of his wife.

  “Where is Olivia?” he blurted, taking a step further into the kitchen.

  “Well, that’s a fine greeting,” his aunt said. She looked like a cat who’d swallowed a canary, and her hands rested on her large stomach. She lifted a brow and glanced at his mother, a similar expression on her face.

  “Sit down, Joe. I have something to tell you,” his mother said, the most words he’d heard from her since he’d been married.

  “I don’t want to sit. Where is Olivia?” he asked again as he struggled to stand still.

  “I have no idea where your bride is.” Her words dripped icily as her smile turned smug. “And I don’t believe I’ll be seeing her again with what I have to impart.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his hands clenching at his sides. He closed his eyes, unable to imagine what she was talking about. Not see Olivia again? Certainly, tonight, for supper...

  She sat at the kitchen table and folded her hands in her lap. “Suit yourself. Your aunt informs me that you have disregarded my request and accepted the repair of a gun in the shop. You know it is against my wishes that you do so.”

  Joe frowned and glared at his aunt. Of course she would have reported what she’d seen with haste. “Olivia didn’t know. She did it out of the shop, anyway.”

  “Is it not true that she was paid for her services? At the shop?” his aunt added, her smile as smug as his mother’s.

  Joe tugged at his collar and tore his hands through his hair. “It was all a misunderstanding. Olivia didn’t mean to...”

  Mrs. Stanton raised an eyebrow and smiled. Joe wished he could explain. He’d tried to tell Olivia, and he thought she understood now, but the damage had been done. He knew any argument would fall on deaf ears, certainly with these two.

  “I’ve made my decision, Joe. The shop will be sold. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

  The air rushed out of chest as he looked from his mother to his aunt, appalled at the satisfaction on their faces. How could they think this was a good solution?

  The Widow Samson strummed her fingernails on the table, barely able to hide her glee. “Well, you did have a suitable alternative. Didn’t you, my dear?”

  “Oh, thank you for reminding me,” his mother said as she turned toward Joe. The malicious twinkle in her eye nauseated him, and he braced himself for what she might say.

  “I would reconsider, of course, if you agree to return that wretched creature back from whence she came.”

  She drew out every word as he blanched, hardly believing his ears.

  “Wretched creature? Olivia?” he said when he’d found his voice, his blood pounding in his ears. Who in their right mind could ever speak of Olivia so? His eyes widened in horror at the woman his mother had become, grateful his father wasn’t present. It would break his heart.

  But he refused his own to be broken. He squared his shoulders and reached into his pocket. Would Will agree? He was certain he would—he loved Carol as much as Joe loved Olivia.

  Loved Olivia? Warmth flooded through him as he realized that he did. And that he would do anything to protect her—unfortunately, from his own flesh and blood. But so be it.

  He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat, fingering the cool metal. He knew his father would approve, and his hand grew tight around what had been in his pocket every day for a decade. Longer, if he counted the days he followed his father into the shop, close on his heels as they laughed and planned their day.

  His mother and aunt’s eyes grew wide and they pursed their lips in unison as he dropped the key to the blacksmith shop on the table before them. It settled with a thud after it had spun for a second, Joe’s eyes twinkling at his immediate rush of freedom.

  “Joe, you can’t—”

  “I certainly can, Mother, and I have. I wish you the best running the shop on your own, or selling it as you see fit. I’m through.”

  He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in years and years. Well, he couldn’t even remember when he’d felt so free.

  He turned on his heels and grabbed his hat. He strode onto the porch and took in a deep breath, the air threatening rain.
But he didn’t care. He needed to find Olivia. His wife.

  Chapter 33

  Olivia ran blindly through her tears, not exactly clear where she was heading. Once again, she’d found herself with nothing but the clothes on her back—not even her gun, at Joe’s request—or her buggy and horses that were still at the livery.

  Her steps slowed when she realized she was far enough away from those two women, and she struggled to keep unkind thoughts from her head. How could they possibly think it was in anyone’s best interest to sell the shop? Joe would have nothing, Will would have nothing, and the thought of them no longer working in the shop that they’d built with their father—well, it was more than she could bear.

  She couldn’t allow it. Joe couldn’t lose the shop, and she’d heard Mrs. Stanton say that if she herself was out of the picture, she’d let him stay. And that’s what needed to happen.

  She rested her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, ignoring two women who tittered as they passed by, their heads close together.

  She shook her head, irritated. This town certainly wasn’t for her, it seemed. Nobody tittered at her on the ranch. There wasn’t anyone there to titter, and while she’d been enamored with all the bright, shiny people when she’d first arrived, all she wanted now was quiet and solitude. And the ranch was the only place she could think of to find it.

  Her mind raced at the thought. Maybe Suzanne had found her inventory, and she would get paid for it after all. After she proved it was hers, unfortunately. In truth, she had nowhere else to go, so whether or not she got paid for the inventory, the ranch was where she’d have to head.

  When she and Joe had searched the property, the barn hadn’t been demolished by the fire. She could stay in Percy’s quarters until she figured out what to do. Unless, of course, he’d returned, but she’d have to deal with that when—or if—that was the case.

  Her breath had returned fully, and she looked up and turned full circle, getting her bearings. In her despair, she’d actually run closer to town and she headed in the direction of the mercantile, skirting the edge on the side streets so as not to require passing in front of the blacksmith shop.

  She quickly breezed by an alleyway but couldn’t help take a glance at the window of the blacksmith shop as she snuck by. Joe would be even hungrier by now, and her heart grew heavy at the thought that she would no longer be able to cook for him, see him smile as she read to him, or even hear him laugh at her paltry cross stitch efforts.

  She shook off the thought as her eyes lit on the sign in front of the shop. “Stanton and Sons.” She couldn’t allow him to lose everything he’d worked for, everything he loved—because of her.

  She shivered as lightning flashed and she pulled her bonnet down over her eyes. Thunder rolled in the distance, toward the west and the Double Barrel Ranch. At least she and Percy had re-done the roof of the barn last winter, and that would hold, long enough anyway for her to figure out what to do.

  As she approached the back door of the mercantile, she ducked around the corner as a wagon departed—the same pork wagon she’d seen earlier. Suzanne held a package in her hands and frowned as the driver nudged his horses down the lane. She studied the package for a moment and turned back in to the mercantile.

  Olivia ran up the stairs and followed. “Suzanne?”

  Suzanne turned suddenly, concern shadowing her face.

  “Oh, Olivia. Just the person I wanted to see,” she said as she gestured for Olivia to follow her into the mercantile office. “He brought back the sample.”

  Suzanne set down the package, something wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Suzanne reached for the letter opener and cut the twine, quickly unwrapping the package.

  She swiftly pushed aside the paper, and turned over what Olivia recognized as a ham. Her stomach sunk as she moved aside the remaining wrapper and gasped as she saw the branding on the side.

  “Your brand was DBR. This is BBB,” Suzanne said as she shook her head slowly.

  It wasn’t her exact brand, but she was sure it had been—and branded over to look like a different one. The DBR that her pa had insisted they branded onto the hams had changed to BBB.

  “Suzanne, it’s—it wouldn’t be difficult to brand over the DBR lettering. Should have made something fancier, but I never thought...we never thought we’d need to.”

  Her friend sat down hard in her chair. “I was hoping it wasn’t, but I had a suspicion it might be. The man came in as you saw, trying to sell a shipment. I asked him to bring in a sample so I could be sure. Said he’s from Tucson, a new merchandiser. And since we didn’t have your inventory—well, I thought I would check. We need to provide something to our customers, and I was hoping this wouldn’t be yours.”

  Olivia tried to catch her breath as she sat in the chair next to Suzanne’s desk. “Joe and I went to the ranch and we found nothing. Not as if it had burned, but it was—gone,” she said as she hung her head. “I didn’t even consider it had been stolen.”

  Suzanne reached for Olivia’s hand. “Olivia, there must be some way we can prove that it was stolen. Something. Your brand, some way to identify your inventory.”

  “Now that you mention it, everything was gone. Including Percy.”

  “Percy!” Suzanne exclaimed. “Could he have had anything to do with this?”

  Suzanne and Olivia looked up at Mrs. Allen as she spoke from the open doorway.

  “Maybe a better way to approach this would to be to question the man who has your inventory. Find out where he got it, and maybe connect that to a theft?” she said as she pulled her gloves off, one finger at a time. “Now that you know it wasn’t burnt in the fire, there are things we can do.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I told the man to come back tomorrow with the remainder of the purchase, and if we can find out by then, we—”

  “We can return it to its rightful owner,” Mrs. Allen finished, her eyes twinkling.

  “I didn’t see any branding irons when I was out there. They were gone, too, now that I think about it.” Olivia twisted her hands as Mrs. Allen frowned.

  “It would seem that if we had your branding irons—and could find the brand they laid over it, that might do the trick, at least to prove it was stolen. We’d still have to find out by whom, though.” Mrs. Allen tapped her chin as she looked out the mercantile window.

  Olivia’s heart lifted a bit. If she could find a branding iron and show the inventory had been stolen, at least she might have something to sustain her since she had to leave Joe. She ached to tell Suzanne and Mrs. Allen what had happened, but if she only had twenty-four hours to find proof, she needed to get back to the ranch as quickly as possible. And if she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t make it before the monsoon arrived—or the sun set.

  “Suzanne, I have to go search the ranch again and don’t have time to take a buggy. A horse and saddle would be much faster. If I did that, I could be back before dark, not just have arrived at the ranch. And we could get this settled once and for all.”

  “But, your dress...”

  Olivia looked down at her petticoats and skirt. She lifted it up a bit and held her foot out. “At least I wore full length stockings today. I thought it might rain.”

  Suzanne sighed. “Well, you are a married woman, after all,” she said slowly as she called for their helper, Liam, to bring around and saddle the fastest horse.

  Olivia hung her head. She should tell Suzanne and Mrs. Allen that she would only be a married woman for mere moments longer, but it wasn’t the time.

  Mrs. Allen’s smile sparkled. “While you do that, I’ll track down the man who brought the inventory in and see what he has to say for himself.”

  “Might that be dangerous? I don’t think either one of you should do these things on your own.” Suzanne’s blue eyes clouded as she looked from Mrs. Allen to Olivia.

  Mrs. Allen patted her reticule and winked at Olivia. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” She turned on her heel and hurried
down Allen Street, toward the hotel the man was most likely staying at.

  “Suzanne, are you certain? I can send Liam with you. Or run and get Joe...”

  Olivia held up her palms to stop Suzanne. She’d already gotten Joe in enough trouble, not just for one day but forever. The last thing she’d willingly do is drag him into her trouble when he had plenty of his own to sort out.

  “Please, no. I’m just running out to see what I can find that might help. I’m not even sure what I’ll find, but there’s no danger except the passage of too much time. I must hurry!”

  “I wish you wouldn’t do this alone, Olivia. It could be dangerous,” Suzanne pleaded as Olivia hopped into the saddle, pulling her skirts aside. She knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t care what anyone thought. Her future was at stake, and if she could, she’d keep her promise to her father. As she urged the horse to ride faster, she blinked away the tears threatening to spill. Everything in her world had changed, and she had no one to rely on but herself. And she had to somehow make it right.

  Chapter 34

  Olivia turned away as she rode past what just a few short hours before was her home with Joe. The colorful flowers that swayed in the breeze held no joy for her now. She'd never go back. There was nothing left for her there.

  She turned her gaze forward toward the ranch, narrowing her eyes and struggling to focus only on the job at hand. She spurred the horse faster, wondering what she had missed when she and Joe had searched the ranch. She hoped there was something that would prove that what she had worked so hard for, she and her father, was hers. It would change everything.

  Houses became fewer and farther between as she reached the outskirts of Tombstone. The infrequent shade trees gave way to cactuses, Mesquite, and the yellow-green palo verde trees that dotted the landscape outside of town. The rushing wind loosened her hair, and the quick braid she’d thrown her long, dark locks into flapped on her back. She wanted to throw off her bonnet, but thought she might see better in the sun with it on and the ties flew behind her against her neck as she spurred the horse faster.