Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection

by Davis, Susan Page; Dietze, Susanne; Franklin, Darlene

  “Stop fretting.” Ma pulled her hand down. “Everything will be fine. In fact, I’ve set my eye on the man I’m going to choose.”

  “Already?” Her mother worked fast. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know his name, dear. We haven’t met, but I like his look. He seems kind.” She smiled and plopped eggs onto Abby’s plate.

  “I’ve picked.” Lucy shoved bacon into her mouth. “The sheriff. Since he isn’t auditioning, maybe he’ll be ready to get hitched when I’m old enough.”

  Abby groaned. “Get that foolish notion out of your head right now. The sheriff has made it clear from the beginning he doesn’t plan on setting down roots in Turtle Springs.” A real shame in her mind. The man was starting to grow on her, and they hadn’t had any severe lawbreaking since she hung up the rules on every establishment in town.

  After breakfast, she headed down Main Street. She stopped at the sight of Josiah, hat pulled low over his face, asleep in front of the sheriff’s office, and slapped his feet off the hitching rail. “Wake up, before I take away every good thought I’ve had of you.”

  He peered up from under his hat brim and grinned. “You’ve been having good thoughts of me?”

  “Only in your abilities to keep the law. Which”—she crossed her arms—“I’m rethinking. What kind of sheriff sleeps in the middle of the day where everyone can see?”

  “A tired one.” His feet fell with a thud to the sidewalk. “I’m kept running hither and yon on foolish errands. I’m starting to suspect that one … the women want to spend time with me, and two … they’re asking scores of questions about the newcomers, none of which I can answer. I’m plumb tuckered out.”

  “Really, Josiah, I—”

  “Madame Mayor.” Franklin Harper removed his hat and bowed. “Have you come to a decision about my hopes of opening the saloon?”

  “Not yet, Mr. Harper. It’s on my list.”

  “My funds won’t last forever, Mayor.” His eyes narrowed. “I need a way to make a living.”

  “I’ll get to it soon, Mr. Harper.” She forced a smile, nodded at Josiah with a warning look not to go to sleep again, then marched to her office and slammed the door.

  Anything could’ve happened while Josiah had been sleeping. The bank could’ve been robbed, a woman accosted … anything! Wait a minute.

  She stomped back outside and glanced at the window. No list of rules. She scanned the street. No papers tacked to other windows, either. With steel in her backbone, she hurried to the sheriff’s office, where Josiah now lounged behind his desk. “Someone took down my rules while you were sleeping.”

  He shook his head. “Those were down when I woke this morning.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing to do. No witnesses.” He leaned back on the chair’s hind two legs. “You’ll have to put them up again.”

  “Why are you behaving so obstinate lately?” Seriously, the man was like a child. Ever since lunch at her house a few days ago, he’d become downright lazy and difficult to deal with. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to make her dislike him.

  “Look, Mayor.” Josiah heaved a sigh. “I’m doing my best. Why, in the amount of time it took for you to head across the street, I’ve had two women come in here about men picking flowers from their very own gardens and then knocking on their door, flowers in hand. I cannot be everywhere.”

  She hmmphed and whirled, storming back to her office. The impulsive decision to hire as sheriff the first man who looked the part had not been her finest moment.

  She plopped into her chair, choosing to ignore the mound of paperwork on her desk. Instead, she put her head in her hands and felt sorry for herself. The advertisement had brought more than enough men for the women to choose from. The problem was none of them looked the sort to steal Abby’s affections. Only one man came close, and he was proving not to be what she’d thought.

  Groaning, she let her forehead fall to the desktop. What a ninny. Josiah had made it clear from day one he wasn’t looking to get married. He’d also alluded to the fact he might not stay. She glanced out the window to see his long strides eating up the sidewalk.

  Was he the man she wanted? Possibly. If so, how could she get him to see reason? Two strong-minded people such as they would get along famously.

  She smiled. He’d come up with the idea of them being engaged. How would he react if she suddenly played the part? She could bat her eyelashes and simper as well as the next gal.

  Yes. She’d decided Josiah might be the man for her. Of course, she still needed to participate in the audition. No, that would never work. She couldn’t toy with him that way. Oh when had matters of the heart gotten so difficult? She couldn’t flirt with him then attend the auditions, and she had to go through with her original plan. After all, the women of Turtle Springs were following her lead. Lord, I could use Your—

  “Mayor?”

  She lifted her head to see one of the town’s widows, Mrs. Fredrickson, slip inside the building. “Yes?”

  “Well, I’ve a bit of problem, you see, and”—her cheeks darkened—“it’s too delicate of a matter to take before the sheriff. It’s not in the slightest ladylike, and it’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “What is it you need, ma’am?”

  “Me and Irma Bombay have our eyes set on the same gentleman, and we are going to fight for him out by the creek this afternoon.”

  “Fight, as in fisticuffs?” Abby’s eyes widened.

  The woman lifted her chin. “If need be.”

  Gracious.

  Josiah hadn’t missed the flash of hurt in Abigail’s eyes at his behavior. Nor could he escape it, no matter how far and fast he walked.

  He stopped at the livery and immersed himself in currying his horse. “You know, old boy, maybe I should stick around after all this nonsense is over. It’s been a long time since you and I had a home. In a month or two, all these eager women will be someone else’s responsibility and we can sit back and enjoy a peaceful life.”

  “Josiah! You have to stop them.” Abigail burst into the livery, dispelling his fanciful ideas of a peaceful life.

  “Stop who?” He set down the curry brush, patted the horse’s nose, then turned to the woman who created havoc in his mind and heart.

  “Mrs. Bombay and Mrs. Fredrickson. They’re going to fight down by the creek.”

  “Women?”

  She stomped her foot. “Yes. You must come with me now.”

  “Are they elderly?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  He shrugged, biting back a grin. “How much damage can they do?”

  She glared. “Mrs. Bombay is the best shot in town. She might very well pull a gun.”

  That put a different spin on things. A woman with a gun was never a safe thing. “I’m coming. Lead the way.”

  Abigail hiked her skirts above trim ankles ensconced in blue stockings, causing a lump to rise in Josiah’s throat, then raced toward the edge of town in a manner not at all fitting her job as mayor. Josiah grinned, liking the idea that Abigail Melton wasn’t as full of starch as she pretended to be. In fact, petticoats fluttering under a navy hem and flaxen hair falling loose from her bun, she was a wonderful sight to behold. Quite the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  She stopped, chest heaving, in a small clearing next to the bubbling brook the town was named after. “Where are they?” She raised eyes the color of a spring meadow.

  “Shh. We’ll hear them.” Josiah cocked his head. Women weren’t known for their silence. There. A scream. He bolted through the trees.

  Shoving aside branches, he shot into another clearing and skid to a halt. Sitting on a boulder was a grinning older man in a patched suit. In front of him were two plump, elderly women who looked ready to spit nails. Both were dressed in what looked like their Sunday best, complete with hats and feathers.

  “The one on the left is Mrs. Bombay.
The other is Mrs. Fredrickson,” Abigail informed him.

  “I saw him first,” Mrs. Bombay said. “Now, go away or I’ll bean you with my reticule.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” Mrs. Fredrickson narrowed her eyes.

  “Do you still think that advertisement was a good idea?” Josiah asked Abigail. “Is this normal behavior for two women of this age?”

  “No and no,” she groaned. “Do something before someone gets hurt.”

  Just as he stepped forward to put himself between the snarling women, Mrs. Bombay let loose with her purse and caught him in the side of the head. “Ow! What’s in that thing?” He grabbed the ruffled purse and peered inside. “Rocks?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I wanted her to feel it should I choose to swing.” The woman didn’t look the slightest remorseful.

  Mrs. Fredrickson reached around him and whacked the other woman with a stick. Mrs. Bombay grunted and jumped out of the way of the second swing which caught Josiah right where it hurt the most.

  He fell to his knees and concentrated on his breathing. Spots darted in front of his eyes.

  Abigail pulled his pistol from his belt. “That’s it, ladies. You’re both under arrest for assault and intended … something. Josiah, are you all right?”

  Swallowing back nausea, he pushed to his feet. “I’ll take it from here. Ladies, to the jailhouse.”

  Mrs. Bombay’s eyes widened. “Are you seriously arresting us?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have two empty cells ready for two silly women.” With his head and groin still throbbing, he wasn’t in the mood to be nice or forgiving. “You can stay in there until you regain some sense.”

  “The creek is always ice cold,” Abigail whispered. “Maybe you should … uh … sit in it?”

  “Shut up.” He forced himself to walk upright, his face as hot as a July afternoon. A giggle rose from her. He shot her a sharp glance. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes dancing. “What do you want to do with him?” She pointed at the still grinning old man.

  “Leave him.” He was going to lock these two up and retire to his room.

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “A bit.”

  “Someone would’ve gotten hurt, Josiah.”

  He cut her another look. “Someone did. Look.” He bent his head. “I’m bleeding from the rocks in her purse.”

  “I’ll tend to that when we return to your office. It’s all in a day’s work.” She grinned. “I make a darn good deputy, if I say so myself. I could have hauled them in.”

  He shook his head. If she could have, then why didn’t she and spare him the pain?

  In his office, he locked each complaining woman in a separate cell then sat behind his desk so Abigail could tend to his head. “Yes, you make a good deputy,” he said, grudgingly. “Don’t interfere with more dangerous folks, though, or I’ll lock you up for your protection.”

  “More dangerous than two women with rocks in their purses?” She giggled, dabbing at his head with a cloth soaked in cool water. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”

  The fragrance of roses he’d come to expect when she was around swirled around him. Her hair fell forward in a soft curtain. His eyes locked with hers. “Blame this on me getting banged in the head.” He cupped her head and pulled her close for a kiss.

  He started slow and tender, teasing, but soon kissed her like a man starving when she didn’t pull away.

  Chapter 6

  Sheriff?”

  Abby straightened as Mrs. Bombay called out from her jail cell. She pressed her lips together, her gaze clashing again with Josiah’s. “Some knock on the head,” she forced through her clogged throat.

  He gave a lopsided grin. “Maybe I should get hit with a woman’s reticule more often.”

  She smiled. “Behave. I’ll go see what Mrs. Bombay wants.” Her heart threatened to burst free as she headed to the back of the office. It wasn’t her first kiss, but oh my! No other kiss had come close to making her blood race. She wanted another one so badly she actually glanced over her shoulder and contemplated stealing one.

  “Mayor?”

  She sighed. “I’m coming.”

  Each of the women had their faces pressed to the bars, trying to see into the front of the jail. Plump cheeks folded around bars gripped in pudgy hands.

  “Is our beau here?” Mrs. Bombay asked, her eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other.

  “No, ma’am. I’m afraid he isn’t coming.” The scoundrel most likely played the two women as fools.

  “He’ll be here,” Mrs. Fredrickson said. “He’ll bail me out and leave you to rot.”

  “Why you—”

  “Ladies!” Josiah bellowed from his chair. “That kind of behavior will keep you here for a good long while.”

  Abby bit back a grin and shrugged. “If I see your gentleman, I’ll send him over. Are you hungry? My mother cooks for the prisoners.”

  “Prisoner?” Mrs. Bombay’s eyes swelled with tears. “Is that what we are? Oh, Ruth.” She grasped her nemesis’s hand.

  Mrs. Fredrickson squeezed back. “We must be strong, Irma. Yes, Mayor, we’d like something to eat. A drink of water, too, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m sorry to say our escapade in the woods made me parched.”

  Receiving a heated look from Josiah that sent her heart into palpitations again, Abby headed home to let her mother know about the women requiring food. Her step was light, tapping out a merry beat on the sidewalk.

  A hand from the alley grabbed her wrist and yanked her behind the barbershop. “Look what we have here.” The man raked her from head to foot with his gaze. Whiskey fumes washed over her.

  She stomped on his foot, causing his grip to loosen. “Where did you get the liquor?” She two-hand shoved him against the wall. The man was too drunk to be much more than a nuisance. “Well?”

  “Made it myself in a shack in the woods.” He winked. “It’s my specialty.”

  She exhaled sharply. “You are an undesirable, sir! Please vacate Turtle Springs immediately.”

  “I can’t. I done went and got hitched to a woman named Richards. We didn’t want to wait for that fancy audition. I reckon she needs me.”

  Abby seriously doubted any woman needed a foolish drunkard for a husband. “Please come with me.” She whirled and marched him back to the sheriff’s office. “Josiah, this man is intoxicated.”

  “You brung me to jail?” The man’s eyes widened. “I didn’t do nothing but grab ya!”

  Josiah shot to his feet. “You touched her?”

  Abby held up a hand to stop him. “I’m fine, but this man is brewing liquor in the woods.”

  “Is that so?” Josiah crossed his arms. “Mind showing me where?”

  “I do mind.” The man popped his suspenders. “But, seeing as how you’re the law, I reckon I should. Otherwise, the missus will pound me. She’s a bossy one.”

  “Aren’t you going to lock him up?” Abby frowned. “He’s a nuisance and clearly breaking one of the town’s laws.”

  “I don’t have another cell, Abigail.”

  “The women can share.”

  He shook his head. “They’ll kill each other. No, I’ll take Mr….” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Watson. Name’s Watson.”

  “Mr. Watson to shut down his still then home. I’m sure his bride will handle him.” He gripped the man’s elbow. His eyes softened as he glanced at Abby. “I’d like to have supper with you, if you’re willing. Maybe a nice one at the restaurant.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Not until we get our food!” Mrs. Bombay screeched from the back.

  “Of course.” Abby tossed Josiah a smile then headed home, praying nothing else would interfere with her duties for the day. So far, she’d assisted Josiah in arresting two unruly women and deposited a lawbreaker into his hands. Maybe she was cut out to be a mayor after all.

  “Ma
, there’s two women in the jail in need of supper.” She stepped into the kitchen where her mother stood, wrapped in the arms of a man. “Ma!”

  “Hello, dear. Meet Hank. He’s the man I’ve chosen.” Ma caressed the man’s face and stepped back.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Hank held out a hand. “Always a pleasure to meet someone in as esteemed a position such as yourself.”

  “Likewise.” She intended to get to the bottom of her mother’s secrecy as soon as she returned home that evening. “If everyone keeps finding grooms early on, there will be none left for the audition.”

  “I can’t let someone else grab him.” Ma grabbed a skillet from the counter. “Who’s in jail?”

  “Bombay and Fredrickson. Fighting over a man. It’s quite scandalous.” Abby glanced sideways at Hank.

  “The women of this town sure are spirited.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, as if he lived there. “I’m going to like living here.”

  “What is it you do, Mr., uh, Hank?” Abby leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms.

  “I use to be a banker, back before the war. Now, I’m looking to plant a garden and enjoy life.”

  If he thought he was going to freeload off Abby and her family, the man was mistaken. “Hard to make a living with a simple garden.”

  “My dear, I’ve money in the bank. More than enough to care for all of us in the time I have left.” He grinned. “Besides, aren’t you on the lookout for a husband of your own?”

  Abby had forgotten. She was out to find a husband and here she was enjoying Josiah’s kisses. What well-brought-up lady behaved that way?

  Josiah followed Watson through the woods behind the church. It wasn’t too long before he realized the drunken fool was lost. “You did say you’d recently gotten hitched, didn’t you?”