Chapter Four
I sat around our little house, wasting away as I waited for my father to return from his trip to meet Malcolm. I tried to keep myself busy, sewing, cooking, spending time with my fellow letter writers, sitting on the porch just chatting with my mother, but none of it could calm my heart down. I was too tense and worried about Malcolm meeting my father; I wasn’t even allowed to send a letter to let him know of my father’s arrival. It was supposed to be a surprise visit for Malcolm so he wouldn’t be able to prepare for my father. It was driving me crazy. I was worried my father didn’t make it. Perhaps I had hurt Malcolm in not sending another letter, wondering if he’d still want me after the trap my father had created.
It was all too much for my mind, and I ended up spending the week before my father returned in bed, doing nothing but crying and sleeping. It had been two and a half months before Daddy came back home, and when he did nobody was happy. I ran out to greet him outside the house, and all he did was look very sternly at me and say the word no before going into the house, directly to his study, and closing the door behind him. I sat outside his study, knocking on the door and trying to talk to him through the wood, trying to get information on what had happened between him and Malcolm to make him so angry.
“Daddy, please, what happened?”
“Go away, Iris.”
“Daddy, just tell me what happened. Why can’t I marry him?”
“There will be no more talk of this. Go to bed.”
“It’s still light out, Daddy.”
“Then go do chores. We will not be discussing Malcolm Stenson ever again, understood?”
“But why, Daddy?”
“No, now get gone!”
I started to cry, my mother right there wrapping an arm around me and letting me drench her dress in my tears. I could not understand why Daddy was being so silent and mean to me. I only wanted to know what had happened between him and Malcolm. Days went by and Daddy only came out to eat, mumbling words that meant nothing to me or Momma, and always slamming the door shut when he returned to the study.
Both Momma and I were lost; we didn’t know what could cause Daddy to break so badly, to hate us so much that he would shun us whenever we tried to speak to him. Momma felt it worse than even I did—Daddy didn’t even go to bed with her anymore; he slept in his study, leaving Momma to lie awake in their bed alone, wondering what Malcolm could have done to bring Daddy’s wrath upon her. When I had finally had enough of Momma crying just as much as I was, I banged on the door of Daddy’s study, screaming at him to come out and confront us, to explain to us why he was being so cruel. After several minutes of me bad mouthing him, and calling him all the dirty names in the bad girl handbook, Daddy came out of the study. He seemed much taller than normal, angry eyes glaring down as he hovered over me, his hand shaking as if he were ready to smack me.
“You are just like your mother, possibly even worse.”
“What are you talking about, Daddy?”
“That man, you told us he was a horse breeder. A HORSEBREEDER! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a girl with such poor judgment to find a decent man.”
“Daddy, please don’t yell. What are you talking about?”
Daddy just ignored me, turning his attention onto my mother, who was standing at the base of the stairs, her entire body trembling with fear as daddy continued to raise his voice.
“AND YOU! This is your fault, you know. Hell, you probably knew and gave her your blessing. I should have never trusted a spoiled dove like you. You brought this on our daughter, turning her into spoiled goods as well.”
Momma just gasped, running up the stairs to hide in the bedroom, leaving me standing there in front of my father, afraid that he still might collide his hand against my face.
“Daddy, I don’t know what you are talking about, and what it has to do with Momma.”
“That man of yours, the one you were wanting to marry, he is nothing but a dirty, lying, cowboy—who is wanted by the law, no less.”
I gasped. Daddy went on to tell me he’d, found out all kinds of secrets about Malcolm, and worse, Daddy thought I had known all along. I began to cry, falling to my knees and hugging my daddy’s legs, begging for him to forgive me, swearing that I didn’t know he was a cowboy, that I didn’t know he was in trouble with the law.
I quickly ran upstairs and grabbed the letters I had received from Malcolm and brought them down to Daddy to show him that I was never hiding anything from him. He looked the letters over, nodding at me before heading upstairs to where my mother was hiding in their bedroom. He quietly closed the door behind him and my parents stayed in there for the rest of the night, and when the sun was coming up the next day, both of them were coming out of the bedroom together, smiling and showing each other affection as if the past few days had never happened.
We all sat down at breakfast together, smiling and making small talk, planning out what we were going to do for the summer as a family. It made me feel as if all was forgiven and I could finally ask daddy about Malcolm and what happened during his visit. As soon as I tried to speak to Daddy about it, thought, Momma piped in and asked if I could help her in the kitchen. When I reached the kitchen, Momma grabbed both of my arms and looked me dead in the eye.
“Don’t you be bringing up that Malcolm with your Daddy ever again, you hear me?”
“Why, Momma?”
“Because he ain’t nothing but trouble, and your Daddy wants to keep all of us all safe and out of the life of Malcolm Stenson. Understood, Iris?”
“Yes, Momma, but why?”
“Because that no-good dirty dog was lying. He is actually a gun-slinging, trouble-making cowboy, and you are forbidden to so much as say his name.”
I just gasped, for the second time in two days I was rendered speechless. Malcolm was a cowboy? Why would he lie about that, and why did Daddy have such a terrible reaction when he found out the truth?
Chapter Five
Another few days passed after Momma spoke to me in the kitchen about Malcolm. I didn’t want to have Momma and Daddy fighting anymore, and I certainly didn’t wish to be yelled at by any of them. Which is why I can’t explain my actions when a letter arrived for me. I was spending the day with my friend Claire, trying my darnedest not to think about Malcolm Stenson—and failing miserably, I might add—when our friend Sonya approached us with an ashamed look on her face.
“Sonya, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, Iris, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I might have written to one of the men that you received letters from.”
“Might have? “I was starting to glare at her now. She had snuck the names of the men we decided were mine and had written them.
“I did, actually. I am so sorry, but I just figured that you wouldn’t write all of them, so I wrote to one.”
“And? Why are you telling me this, Sonya? I’m no longer allowed to write any letters. My daddy forbids it.”
“I received a letter, for you.”
“A letter for me?”
Sonya nodded, handing me a folded little piece of paper. She held her head down, unable to look me in the eye any more than she had to.
“It’s from Malcolm. He had said his letters would never reach you, so he hoped I would pass this along.”
“You’ve been writing Malcolm.”
Sonya sighed and nodded, trying to hide her face even more so after her confession.
“Well, then, I don’t need to read this. My daddy says he is a liar and wanted by the law, and now I find he’s been keeping more than one woman. I want nothing to do with Malcolm Stenson anymore.”
I went to rip the letter into pieces, but Sonya stopped me, jumping up on the porch where I was standing, pulling the letter out of my hand and looking at me as if I were about to rip the Bible.
“Stop. You can’t rip this up. Not if you want to hear from him again.”
“I don’t, I have no time for bad men lik
e Malcolm Stenson.”
“He isn’t a bad man, and in all his letters to me, he talked about you.”
“He talked about me?”
“He only wrote to me as a friend. I swear it, Iris.”
“Fine, give me the letter back.”
“Promise to read it?”
“I promise.”
Sonya handed me back the letter and walked away. She apparently hadn’t wanted to spend any more time with me or Claire. I sat back down in the rocker next to Claire, staring at the piece of paper in my hand.
“Are you actually going to read it?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think I should?”
“I would, but I’m not good with curiosity.”
“Neither am I.”
Claire and I smiled at each other, me still fiddling with the paper within my hands. I decided to open it up and read what Mr. Stenson had written. If anything, I had expected it to give me some closure, for him to explain himself and apologize. He did apologize, but it wasn’t closure at all. It was filled with even more promise than his previous letters.
Sweet Sonya,
I know we have been writing for a while, and I’m sorry that I have not written much to you lately, but I find myself heartbroken more than expected. Please see that this letter finds its way into the hands of Iris, without her family knowing. I will be forever grateful and will be writing you a proper letter soon. Thank you, dear friend.
My sweetest Iris,
I know that you may hate me right now. I can only imagine the things your father has said about me since his return from the surprise visit. I will admit that some things I wrote to you were not completely true. I only breed horses in my spare time, when I’m not busy being a gun for hire or running from the law. I meant what I said about wanting to marry you. In the very few letters that we have written to each other, I find myself aching to know you more, to learn the real you and not just the proper lady your parents tried to raise you to be. Please, if you have any feelings left for me inside your heart, you will meet me at the bank on August 17th just before it closes.
- Malcolm
“August 17th, that’s tomorrow,” I said.
“Well, are you going to go?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know. I was forbidden to see him.”
“What if you just happen to be there, visiting my father with me?”
“Claire, you are absolutely scandalous.”
“I see the way you’re smiling. You love the idea.”
“Of course I do. Let’s do it.”
“Tomorrow, we meet Mr. Stenson. What do we do until then?”
“Giggle and blush, and fuss with our hair.”
We both laughed and continued to whisper about the secret meeting that would take place tomorrow. We talked about dresses, hairdos, and ways to keep my family from going to the bank or finding out the real reason I was going there.
Chapter Six
It was another restless night for me, but this time it was because of excitement, the butterflies back in my belly and flapping more than ever before. I was imagining all these scenarios where Malcolm would come into the bank, propose to me in front of everyone, apologize to the law men, and be redeemed. There were so many ways he could do things, so many things he could do when we met, I was overwhelmed and shaking, the excitement and fear mixing together to make my nerves unbearable. I spent the morning of the meeting pacing back and forth in my room, trying to fake a smile and calmness every time Momma came in to check on me.
When she finally stopped believing me, I had to lie to her. I had never lied to my Momma before, and I have never done it since, but I told her that Sonya and I had a big fight and I was worried our friendship was over. It wasn’t a total lie. Sonya and I had had a fight, but I still felt awful for telling my mother that. I hoped one day she would forgive me for making something up. Love was worth coming up with a small fib, wasn’t it?
Love, that was a weird sensation for me. I wasn’t sure if I had actually fallen in love with Malcolm, but the feelings were strong enough for me to lie and disobey my parents. When it was getting close to the time I was meant to meet Claire at the bank, I finally got dressed. I removed my nightshirt and replaced it with a soft, white dress, ruffles in the back and no frills in the front looking at myself in the mirror and straightening it out until I looked perfect. I made my way downstairs, yelling to my momma that I was off to meet Claire, and thank my luck, Momma didn’t come to see me off. I slowly walked out of our house and down the street, crossing the dirt path over to the bank to meet Claire out front.
“Are you nervous?”
“I feel like I have bees and butterflies fighting in my stomach.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure.”
Claire and I linked our arms together and walked into the bank, my other hand over my stomach to keep the butterflies and bees inside where they belonged. We were greeted by a warm smile from her father. He took my hand in his and placed a soft kiss along my knuckles.
“Good afternoon, girls,” he said. “Such a pleasant surprise.”
“Well,” Claire said, “I thought it might make your day better if you were accompanied by two ladies on your way home, Daddy.”
“My sweet Claire, always looking out for her old man.”
“Always, Daddy.”
“And how are you doing this fine afternoon, Iris? Keeping out of trouble, I trust.”
“Yes, sir, no more trouble for me, luckily.”
“That’s good. I spoke with your daddy a little while back. I knew those letters would get some of you girls in trouble.”
“No more letters for me. I gave them up when my daddy returned home.”
“That’s a good girl, just like my Claire. She never wrote no silly letters.”
I looked at Claire. I knew for a fact that she had written to several men. She shook her head at me and looked at her father with fear. I just nodded and smiled at her daddy, not wanting to get the only friend I trusted in trouble. She was here to help me keep my own secrets, and I wasn’t about to share hers.
“Yes, of course, well, we aren’t all blessed with being as pretty as Claire.”
“All you ladies are pretty in your own way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, time to finish my work before we all head home.”
Claire and I both nodded, re-linking arms and stepping to the side, backing ourselves up against a wall, watching the entrance instead of where her father disappeared to.
“Do you think he’s actually going to show?” Claire said.
“I hope so,” I replied. “Malcolm owes me at least an apology in person.”
“I believe he has more than that in store for you, Iris.”
We both giggled, leaning our heads in close so we didn’t disturb any of the other patrons in the bank. Keeping quiet whispers to ourselves about Malcolm and how scandalous it was for us to be there waiting for him. The rumors that I would become a soiled dove, or worse, if I were to ever actually meet this man. All the ideas floating around my head of what could happen were beginning to make me blush, especially when Claire would join in and add her comments of the bad cowboy and how I was his damsel to do with as he pleased.
When we looked up from our small bubble of scandal and giggles, we both noticed a strange man walking into the bank. He was covered from head to toe in clothing, a hat on top, spurred boots on his feet, a shirt and vest covering his well-muscled chest, tight slacks and a gun holster around his waist. What was most noticeable, though, was the piece of cloth covering his face. The only part of him showing was his deep brown eyes. His head was moving around, looking at everyone in the bank as if he were surveying everyone, then his eyes landed on Claire and me. I swallowed a lump in my throat as our eyes connected. I could have gotten lost in them. Claire was the one to bring me back to the present, squeezing my arm tightly as his eyes moved to stare her down.
When he took a few steps towards us
, Claire tightened her grip around my arm, leaning into my ear and whispering, “Iris, I’m scared.”
There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he turned towards the tellers, showing off that he had two more guns shoved into the back of his pants. I watched him reach for his holster, pulling out his gun and aiming it towards the ceiling. He pulled the trigger and shot into the rough. Raising his voice as loud as he could, he shouted at everyone in the bank, “This is a robbery!”
Chapter Seven
Everyone in the bank screamed and cowered into the floor. The robber tossed a satchel towards one of the tellers and commanded her to fill it. One of the other patrons in the bank stood up and looked the robber in the eyes, but when he tried to take him down, the robber threw his fist out and collided it directly with the man’s jaw, knocking him down onto the ground.
“Nobody plays hero today. Give me the money and nobody gets hurt.”
Another man tried to stand up to the robber, throwing his fist out to try and knock the robber out, but he dodged the fist and kicked the man in his legs, throwing another punch to knock him clear unconscious. Claire and I huddled against the wall, scared that we may end up dead if we moved.
“No heroes. I won’t say it again.”
The teller was shaking as she filled the satchel full of money, handing it back to the robber and hiding behind the counter, protecting herself from his gun. The robber nodded his head towards the counter, throwing the satchel over his shoulder and heading for the door. Another man tried to stop him, grabbing at the satchel to save the money. The robber once again threw his fists, this time knocking the man in the head with the handle of his gun, turning and walking towards Claire and me.
“Up, up, pretty lady.”
He grabbed my arm and yanked me away from Claire, pulling me into his arms, hiding his chest with my back as he pointed the gun directly at my head.
“I said no heroes. Now, the next hero to try and stop me will cause this gun to put a bullet in this pretty little head.”
Romance: Yes, Stepbrother! Page 29