The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

by Sandee Keegan

  Craig bowed his head. Junior had been a talker, but the twins had never thrown a first punch at anyone but each other when they argued. He’d been a good ranch hand and an honest card player. Craig knew for the sake of the whole town, he had to shut this down as soon as possible. He put on his hat and headed out the door toward the medical clinic. Two steps out the door, he was met by Candace and Annie. The former was carrying a carafe of coffee and a mug. They were chatting and smiling like old friends. Annie noticed Craig watching them and shot him a dirty look.

  Craig scuffed his foot in the dust and hid a grin behind his hand. He schooled his face into a pleasant blank and let the women approach. With a look of silent gratitude, Craig downed two cups of strong black coffee while Annie chewed him out for not telling her about his bride to be.

  “…And me wasting my time, telling you that you needed to start a family, when you were doing just that, right under my nose, without even a simple ‘how’d do you do’ for my mental state.” He heard her finish as the first thrums of blessed caffeine hit his system.

  “I am sorry, Annie.” Craig apologized. “It was a mean trick to play on an old friend.” He continued, only slightly emphasizing the word “old”. She snorted and walked away, wearing a Cheshire cat grin.

  “Listen, Candy-girl.” Craig implored, softly touching her arm with his hand. “I think it might be best if you and the boys stay inside for the rest of the day.” He sighed heavily. “I need to bring some rough men into town. I’d rather not have you all in the line of fire.” They walked toward the hotel together. “I’m sorry I can’t take you out to the ranch, but a man was killed, I know you understand the importance of this.” He appealed. Candace nodded and placed her fingers over his.

  “I might have thought about you differently, had I known that you put yourself in danger.” She murmured. Craig’s gut twisted.

  “I know.” He replied. I guess we both had things we should’ve said, that we hoped wouldn’t change the outcome, didn’t we?” He whispered into her ear. Candace smiled up at him.

  “Yes, I suppose that we did.” She answered him. “So I guess I don’t actually have to say, ‘be careful’, today. But, I’m going to anyway.” She sighed. “Please just stay safe.” She squeezed his hand and let go. “I’ll keep my brothers in line, that’s no problem. They both talked Karl into giving them paying work, so they’ll be busy.” She chuckled.

  “Those boys are better men than most men I know.” Craig admitted. “They had a good example.” Candace blushed at the compliment. At the hotel, she reached up and touched his cheek. He smiled and tipped his hat to her and strode off without a word, leaving her to watch after him, worry clutching at her heart.

  Craig, his deputy rode out to the camp to collect the tall thin man and his ginger haired companion. The men’s names, he found out, were Thomas O’Malley and Eugene Stalk. Mark asked Craig whether it should be funny that the tall man’s name was Stalk, but neither of them could work up a smile. The camp foreman claimed that they’d ridden off about an hour earlier, when others from the camp had brought back the news that they were going to be arrested.

  Disheartened, Craig and Mark returned to town. Mark was sent to dispatch another telegram to let the marshals know that the murderers had ridden west, and might even turn south to head toward California. Craig went straight to the clinic, to check on Bud.

  When he got there, Bud was sitting up in bed and Annie was sitting next to him, carefully feeding him thin broth soup. The doctor took the sheriff to one side and Craig filled him in on the developments. Doc promised to let Bud know, when he was a little more stable, and with a “thank you” Craig left him.

  He was halfway down the boardwalk to the hotel when he realized the street was unusually quiet for that time of day. He glanced around him at the virtual ghost town. A few faces peeked out of windows at him, eyes wide and afraid.

  He continued walking, his holster unbuckled and his hand near his hip. As he came to the jail, Annie walked out to meet him. Her hair was falling out of its normally tidy grey bun, and her face was drawn and tear-stained.

  “Sheriff.” She declared in a loud voice. “You need to give me your gun, right now.” She held out her hand. “Then you can see…” She trailed off and began again. “Then you can see your deputy and your fiancé.” She mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” to him as she slid the gun belt off his waist. “Now.” She continued. “The man inside wants to talk to you. He said no one else needs to get hurt. He just wants a chance to talk.” Craig nodded and continued behind her into the jail where he saw Mark, sitting in a cell, holding his bloody head in his hands.

  Candace was seated next to the redhead, O’Malley. He was licking his lips and touching her knee, while she sat white and trembling. Stalk, the tall, thin man, stood up and accepted the gun from the frightened woman.

  “Why don’t you let Annie go, as a sign of good faith.” Craig proposed immediately. “She’s old and frail, we don’t want her heart giving out while we’re talking, that would only make things worse for you.” He bargained. The redhead snorted derisively, but Stalk agreed and motioned the pale café owner out with the sheriff’s gun. Annie glanced toward Craig, and when he nodded to her, she rushed out and ran to the hotel, where Eva met her at the door. She gathered her in her arms and hurried her inside.

  Craig turned back to the obvious leader of the duo, without sparing a glance at Candace. Stalk smiled grimly at him and slid the gun into the drawer of the sheriff’s desk, then stepped around it and sat on the corner.

  “Now, Sheriff.” He wheedled. “You seem to have the wrong impression about us.” HE smiled convivially. O’Malley cackled in the corner.

  “Maybe we have the wrong impression of him, Slim.” He broke in. “I mean, we were told her was going to marry this sweet filly, but he ain’t even looked at her since he came in!” He howled. “Mebbe I should show you what a real man does.” He threatened the girl. Craig glanced over at her. She was pale as a ghost, but her face was determined. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.

  “Look.” He bartered with Stalk. “Maybe what you did really was self-defense.” He opened his hands to the man, palms up, in a sign of peace. “We have no way of knowing without a proper investigation.” Stalk nodded in agreement. “So, why don’t we just let the girl go, and let Mark out of that cell. Let her walk him over to the Doc’s and you and I can sort this out.” He tilted his head to one side and scratched behind his ear. “You can’t tell me that a sheriff isn’t worth more than a deputy, right?” He joked.

  “Red.” Stalk jerked his head and tossed his companion the keys. “Go on and get the deputy for us. Little Miss Brown eyes, here, is going to escort him to the doctor.” O’Malley made a loud sound of protest. “Jus’ do it!” Stalk ordered. O’Malley stormed off to the cells and dragged the still dazed Mark to the front office.

  “You okay, deputy?” Craig asked softly.

  “Sorry, Sheriff.” The hurt man apologized. “I had my back to the door, I didn’t even see it coming.”

  “I don’t see why I have to give up this little girl, jus’ cause the sheriff says so!” O’Malley interrupted. Candace quailed at the words. Craig wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his bride-to-be grew even paler at his words. Craig tried to ignore his taunting and hoped Candace would stay strong until he could get her out.

  “What they hit you with, anyway, deputy?” Craig inquired, looking around the room. O’Malley made a crude gesture, grabbing his crotch and laughing. But behind him, the sheriff saw a length of wood. It looked like the handle to a pickaxe or shovel. Candace followed his eyes and then gave him a stern look. Craig winked at her, then went back to ignoring her. Stalk motioned at O’Malley.

  “You best put some cuffs on him for his little stroll, Red.” He said. Stalk’s eyes never left Craig’s face. We have to make sure everyone is safe, right Sheriff?” With a grim nod, the sheriff assented. O’Malley got the handcuffs clasped shut and shoved him towar
d the door. Craig’s hands bunched into fists, but he kept still, watching Stalk for an opening to fight.

  Suddenly, there was a flash of movement to his right, and Craig and Stalk both jumped back. Without thinking, Craig immediately leapt at Stalk, vaulting the desk that stood between them and punching the man in the face. He grabbed the wiry man by the hair and kneed him in the face. Wrapping an arm around his throat, he turned around and scanned the room. Candace stood with a bloody piece of wood in her hand, backing slowly away from O’Malley, whose head was bleeding profusely. He advanced on her, cursing and threatening her. He feinted to the left, and then reached out with his right to grab her.

  Craig slid his desk drawer open and slid the gun out in one smooth motion, he dropped the unconscious Stalk, slid back the hammer, and fired at O’Malley. Shaken, he kicked Stalk over and prodded him with his foot. He tossed the handcuff key to Mark and motioned at him to cover Stalk, and rushed to Candace’s side.

  “Candy-girl.” He murmured, as he wrapped his arms around her. “What were you thinking?” He held her at arm’s length and shook her, hard. “Don’t you ever do anything that stupid ever again!” She started to sob, and he pressed her against him as though he could fit her inside his body for safekeeping. “Never again.” He whispered more gently, wondering if she could hear him over the pounding of his heart.

  “Never again.” She replied. “But now you know how it’s done.” She teased. “I’m getting to be an expert at hitting bad men with blunt objects.” Mark barked out a laugh from the cell he had just dragged the unconscious killer into.

  Craig watched O’Malley for signs of life, but couldn’t bring himself to let go of Candace to make sure he was dead. Mark arched and eyebrow at him and then squatted down and checked for a pulse.

  “Well, he won’t be standing trial.” He announced. “I’m gonna go get Doc, and let Bud know that we have one dead, one in custody.” Craig nodded in reply. He kept Candace facing away from the body of the dead man.

  “Wait.” He called after Mark. “You stay here and rest your head, I’ll get Miss Shepherd back to her family and send the Doc.” Mark readily agreed and slumped down at his desk. He reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He saluted Craig with the bottle, uncorked it, and took a long pull straight from the bottle.

  They stepped out of the jail into a crowd of townsfolk who had gathered. Before he knew it, Candace was whisked away by Eva and Annie, and Karl had brushed past him to sit with Mark. The doctor had come running and was still gasping for air. Craig stepped out of the way and let him pass.

  He strode over to the hotel to claim his bride from the mother hens that kept her from him. Barging in through the saloon doors, he took the stairs two at a time and launched himself at her door.

  “WOMEN OUT!” He bellowed. Eva made a move to argue and Craig simply pointed at the door. “Out. Now.” He said more gently. Annie giggled behind her hand and pulled Annie with her out of the room. Candace looked shocked and tried to hide her half-dressed body behind the coverlet she jerked off the bed.

  “Craig, people will talk!” She protested. “It isn’t proper.” He grabbed her roughly by the arms and pulled her against him, pressing the coverlet between them.

  “Let them talk, Candy-girl.” He growled. The blood rushed from her face and her stomach felt tight. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks anymore. I’ve come to claim what’s mine. I’m not going to wait another minute.” He declared. He kissed her hard, then softened at her sounds of protest until he as barely grazing his lips over hers, over and over. Her knees felt weak and she sagged against him. He picked her up and deepened the kiss. When he finally thought he must quit or go insane he pulled her away from him and guided her to sit on the bed.

  She looked so lovely, flushed from his kisses, which he couldn’t wait any longer. He lowered himself to one knee and reached up to cup her face in his hand.

  “Candace Shepherd, my sweet Candy-girl.” He began. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Will you be my wife?” He asked, as tears poured down her cheeks in diamond cascades. “I promise you the life of a rancher, hard work, but always done together. I’ll hand in my start tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mr. Ferguson,” She choked out past her happy tears. “I will marry you. I will marry the rancher I’ve never seen, and the sheriff who won my heart.” She sniffed and inhaled deeply. “I would never feel as safe out here in the wilds of the west, if you weren’t the one protecting us all.” She tugged at his hands until he stood and she launched herself into his arms. He kissed her a hundred times, every kiss a promise to love her and keep her safe from harm. Forever.

  THE END

  Beth’s Western Love Story

  Chapter 1

  Dusty Music

  As I took a bow, I thought to myself, I can’t wait to get out of this dusty little town.

  I hated being a singer. I hated being dragged from one miserable little town to the next, performing for a bunch of drunk cowboys who yelled and hollered at my beauty rather than my singing voice. I hated living in hotel rooms and eating the same old foods. I hated wearing the same old dresses and seeing the same old faces. I wanted excitement, wonder, adventure, mystery…and love. After all, I was getting any younger. A girl of twenty-two had to start thinking about her future. I wasn’t going to be singing in duty old town all my life. But I sighed as I took a second bow before a room filled with drunk cowboys. For the time being, I was trapped.

  “Hey good looking, why don’t you come and have a drink with me after you get freshened up!” an ugly, smelly, cowboy yelled at me and slapped his buddy sitting next to him on the shoulder. His buddy laughed and blew me a kiss.

  “I’ll like to dig your grave,” I mumbled under my breath and walked off a dusty wooden stage feeling like a broken down old mule. My long, pretty black hair was sweaty. My lovely face was red and tired. I felt very unattractive, even though I was wearing my best pink dress that always made me feel pretty.

  “You did great,” Samantha greeted me backstage.

  “Great?” I huffed and blew a long bang off my face, “once again, my dear friend, I have performed for a room full of drunken baboons who possess the intelligence of a wild skunk. Of course,” I added, “I believe I just insulted a wild skunk by associating those drunken baboons with it.”

  Samantha grinned. She was an older woman, in her midsixties, who was wild and rough around the edges. She was the type of woman that let her gray hair run free and always wore the same old brown dress. Her face was tough, hard and mean as nails—but deep inside of her soul was a heart that was kind, gentle and loving. “We pulled in good money tonight,” Samantha told me and patted a metal money box that she was holding. “The owner of this establishment has asked us to stay and perform for a second night. It seems like it’s payday around here and the cowboys are looking to spend some money.”

  “Oh, a second, miserable night in this miserable town,” I fussed. “Look around, Samantha,” I said and threw my arms around the dusty backstage, “what do you see?”

  Samantha examined the backstage. “Wooden chairs, some tables, a few boxes and over there I see a couple of horseshoes lying on the floor.”

  “Exactly,” I exclaimed and threw my hands up in the air. “Chairs for drunk cowboys to sit in, tables for drunk cowboys to sit at and play poker, boxes full of old whiskey bottles…oh, what a dream come true to be standing here.”

  Samantha grinned at me. She was used to my little pouting fits. “You wants the stars, eh?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, tonight you get to sleep on a soft bed, have food in your stomach, and breath in your lungs. Thank the Good Lord, girl, for those gifts.”

  I sighed. “I know…I know…” I said and started romping around with my shoulders hung low. “Samantha, I just want…more. Tonight I performed for a room full of sweaty, drunk, cowboys who smelled worse than a troop of skunks.”

  “I don’t approve of the d
rinking,” Samantha agreed, “but we don’t live in one of those fancy cities. This is the Nevada territory, girl. We book our shows wherever we can.”

  “Why can’t get go to San Francisco or Sacramento?” I begged. I stopped walking, looked down, and spotted a set of horseshoes. “Oh,” I pouted and kicked at one of the horseshoes.

  “We can’t go to one of them fancy cities because we ain’t got the money to live in them,” Samantha pointed out. “Those fancy cities are full of women just like yourself, lined up around every building, waiting to be heard. Why if we went to one of them places we would starve just waiting to get you an audition.”

  “I would rather starve,” I said.

  Samantha sighed. She walked over to me and put a gentle arm around my shoulder. “Now, you don’t mean that.”

  “No,” I admitted in a pouty voice. I looked into Samantha’s loving eyes. The woman was a second mother to me. My real mother had died when I was five and Samantha had raised me ever since. Of course, at the time, Samantha was married to a very wealthy man who drank his fortune away, leaving Samantha a poor widow. Samantha didn’t fuss or grip or anything. She buried her husband, sold what she could, and hit the trail. I was seventeen at the time. And it was then that Samantha began having me start performing for money.

  “Beth,” Samantha told me, “I grew up poor. My Pa would work his hands into the grave just to put a few pieces of bread on the table. When I met my husband, I thought I found the world. No more being poor or hungry or worried about how I was going to pay my debts. I bought fancy dresses and went to social gatherings, acting like all fake and rotted inside. When my husband died, I threw all them things away, put back on my poor woman’s dress, and found myself all over again. I learned to be grateful for what the Good Lord was given me instead of being ungrateful for the things I thought I wanted but didn’t have.”