The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

by Sandee Keegan

  I lay my head over on Beth’s shoulder. “I just wish we owned a house and some land and a little garden…maybe some few flowers beds. I just wish we had a place to call our own. I just wish I could sing for people who appreciated music instead of my looks. I just wish…” I sighed. “I guess I’m wishing when I need to be grateful, huh?”

  “I would say that statement is right on target,” Samantha told me and rubbed my shoulder. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Let’s go eat,” Samantha smiled and walked out of the smelly theater house onto a dark, hot, dirt street. The street was full of cowboys standing around, talking, laughing, shooting their guns up into the air, and acting plum silly. I shook my head and disgust and followed Samantha down the street to a hotel that offered halfway decent lodging and food. We walked past two cowboys who were leaning against the door of a lawyer’s office. One of the cowboys spotted me, reached out, and grabbed my arm. “Hey, how about a kiss?” he asked me smelling like yellow whiskey. A second later he was lying on the ground, unconscious.

  “Teach your friend some manners,” Samantha said and wiped her fist off on her dress.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the second cowboy said in a scared voice and backed away into the street and took off running like a scolded dog.

  “Come on,” I told Samantha and hooked my arm through hers, “let’s go have dinner.”

  Samantha smiled. “Beth,” she said and walked away from the unconscious cowboy, “look up and tell me what you see.”

  I looked up into a clear night sky. I spotted millions of bright, twinkling, stars. “I see the stars…over there is the constellation Leo…and over there is Virgo…no moon tonight because it’s the new moon.”

  “You always did love astronomy.”

  “The Heavens fascinate me,” I admitted. “I sometimes wonder why God designed the Heavens the way He did? I sometimes wonder what’s out there…all those stars…a tiny little speck in the night sky…but if I stood on one of those stars, the earth would be just a tiny little speck, too, I guess.”

  “Someday the Good Lord will let us know why He made the Heavens the way He did,” Samantha smiled. “Way up there is eternity. And that’s what I want you to see.”

  “Why?”

  “Because life, girl, is short. We’re just a puff of smoke, here today and gone tomorrow. I’m sure not getting any younger,” Samantha explained.

  “You’re not dying, either.”

  “No, I still got many good years left,” Samantha promised. “But the years you and I have left on this earth are a mere second compared to the Good Lord’s eternity. So why bother yourself with this old world, honey? The Good Lord is in control. He has us exactly where He wants us to be. You have to trust that. Tonight we’re in this town, and in a few days, we’ll be somewhere else. But why we’re here, don’t you think it’s a good idea to make the best what you have and what’s around you?”

  “You’re asking me to stop complaining, aren’t you?”

  Samantha laughed. “No,” she said and nudged me with her shoulder. “I’m asking you to look around at the beauty that the Good Lord has surrounded us with.”

  “A dusty off town full of drunk cowboys?”

  “Look past that,” Samantha told me.

  I stopped walking and looked up and down the street. For a moment I imagined the street filled with laughing children, women out doing their shopping, honest men carrying out their chores, and bright, warm sunlight. Suddenly the dim, dusty little town I couldn’t wait to depart transformed into a cozy family town filled with love and life. But the sound of shooting guns caused me to blink and brought my mind back to the reality. “People sure mess up a good thought.”

  “Come on,” Samantha smiled and walked me into the hotel. “Let’s fill our bellies and get some sleep.”

  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

  Samantha and I sat down at a back table positioned near the back wall next to a window. The dining room was full of people—decent looking people dressed in suits and dresses—eating steak dinners. No one paid me and Samantha any mind as we sat down. “I guess you’re right,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “If we went to San Francisco or Sacramento we would starve. This room if full or pretty ladies. I would be just one more face in a sea of others,” I explained.

  “You have a lovely singing voice.”

  “There are women who can sing better than me,” I pointed out.

  Before Samantha could reply a tall man with short black hair walked over to our table. He was wearing a badge and carrying a gun. “Ma’am, are you Beth Connor?” he asked me.

  “Why, yes, I am,” I said in a confused voice. I looked at Samantha. Samantha raised her hand at me.

  “Is something the matter?” Samantha asked the man.

  “Oh no,” the man said and smiled. “I just wanted to say that I thought your singing tonight was mighty pretty. I was standing in the back of the room making sure the guys didn’t get out of hand.”

  “Oh…well, thank you,” I smiled. “It’s nice to receive an honest compliment from a gentleman.”

  Samantha eyed the man with curiosity. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” she asked.

  “Well, ma’am, my name is Matthew Barrymore. A few years ago, I started being Sheriff in this town. Before that, I worked in Texas as a deputy.”

  “No,” Samantha said, “I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

  Matthew scratched the back of his head. “I spent most of life in Texas. My Pa was a lawman, When I became of age I took a job as his deputy.”

  “Texas,” Samantha whispered and then slowly began nodding her head. “Were you working in a town called Bear Flats?”

  Matthew looked off at the window and walked off into his memory. “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a strange voice. “I would rather forget that place if it’s all the same with you.”

  “Bear Flats?” I asked.

  Samantha picked up a glass of water and took a drink. “You were in visiting your cousin in California. I went to Texas to visit my brother before he passed on,” she explained. “This was about seven years back, I’d say.” Samantha looked at Matthew. “You were the lawman on duty when that bank was robbed.”

  Matthew let out a low sigh. “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a miserable voice. “My Pa was away on business. He left me in charge. I wasn’t much older than twenty and still green behind the ears.”

  “Bank robbery?” I asked.

  “Three men known as the Logging Gang robbed a bank in the town my brother was living in,” Samantha explained.

  “Bear Flats.”

  “Yes,” Samantha said and continued. “I was in the bank the day those three scoundrels robbed it. One of the bank tellers was shot dead…oh, it was awful, bloody, mess. But that man standing right there,” Samantha pointed up at Matthew, “was waiting for them outside and went gun to gun with them. He shot two of them outlaws deader than dirt. The third one got away with the bank money; he was never seen again.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” I asked. I looked up at Matthew. “You managed to kill two bad men. Why do you look as if you committed a horrible crime?”

  “The bank teller who was shot dead was my brother,” Matthew said in tormented voice. “The man who killed him go away.” Matthew looked down at me. “You sing very pretty, ma’am. I’d better be getting back to my duties. Night.”

  Samantha watched Matthew walk away. “My, now there is a man that is being tormented on the inside of his soul.”

  “So sad,” I whispered. “His brother was killed and he blames himself.”

  “You should have seen that man taking on the Logging Gang, gun to gun,” Samantha told me and drank some more water. “He stood out in the middle of the street and met them face to face. The Logging Gang came bursting out of the bank, guns on fire, trying to gun down anyone in their way. Matthew Barrymore stood his ground, gunned down two of the outlaws…the third one ran out a back do
or and managed to escape. Matthew didn’t know there was a third man until it was much too late.”

  “I guess that’s why he left Texas, then, right?”

  “But why come to this town?” Samantha asked herself. “Well, let’s not think any more on this. My tummy is rumbling and I’m tired enough to sleep for a week.”

  “I second that,” I told Samantha, even though I didn’t feel tired enough to sleep. My mind felt exhausted, not my body. But by the time I ate dinner and retired to my room, I fell right to sleep and dreamed of Matthew Barrymore standing out in the middle of a deserted street holding his right shoulder. I awoke startled and scared.

  The next morning I went down to the dining room alone for an early coffee. I found Matthew sitting at a table by himself, drinking a cup of coffee, and cleaning his gun. “Good morning,” I said attempting to sound cheerful.

  “Oh, morning, ma’am,” Matthew said and stood up. “Join me for a cup of coffee?”

  “I suppose that will be okay,” I said and sat down across from Matthew. A gentle Chinese man hurried over to the table wearing a brown shirt and wearing a black cap on his head. “Coffee, please,” I smiled up at him.

  “Coffee, yes, ma’am,” the sweet Chinese man said and bowed at me before he hurried away.

  “That’s a good man,” Matthew told me and pointed at the Chinese man. “Humble, hardworking, dedicated, faithful, and loyal. Not to mention he cooks the best steak I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Yes, dinner was very good last night,” I agreed and looked around. The sun was barely up. “Seems like we’re both early risers. No one else in down for coffee yet.”

  “I napped at the jail,” Matthew told me in a calm voice. “Had a little trouble last night. A few of the guys got a little rowdy.”

  “Oh?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Matthew assured me. “It was mostly the whiskey. Too bad I can’t outlaw that poison.”

  “Yes, a shame,” I admitted. A minute later the Chinese man returned with a blue cup holding delicious hot coffee, placed the cup down on the table, smiled, bowed, and hurried away again. I picked up the cup and took a careful sip of my coffee. “Very good.”

  Matthew nodded his head. “Are you going to perform again tonight?” he asked me and went back to cleaning his gun. “I enjoyed your singing. I know a bunch of the guys don’t understand what you’re singing about and act foolishly in your eyes. I’m sure sorry for that too.”

  “Do you understand what I’m singing about?” I asked Matthew.

  “Your songs tell a story,” Matthew smiled even though he kept his eyes low. “Not many folks around this part understand the language you sing in. My mother was from Italy, so I understand the language.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be,” Matthew assured me. “My Pa was full blooded Irish and my Ma was full blooded Italian. They fought like worse than two hungry wolves fighting over a bare bone. I learned most of what I know of my Ma’s language from hearing her yelling at my Pa all the time.”

  “I see.”

  Matthew raised his eyes and gave me a quick glance. “You look like you have…a little Irish in you…maybe some English—”

  “I’m half Jewish, half Cherokee,” I explained. “My mother was Jewish. She fell in love with a Cherokee man. I never knew my father, though. He was killed by four men who claimed he kidnapped my mother.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” I replied and sipped at my coffee. “At times I wonder what my father was like? What his voice sounded like? What his face looked like? How his smiled looked like? I was very young when my mother died, and she never spoke of my father. Samantha, the woman I was with last night, told me most of what I know.”

  “Is Samantha your kinfolk?”

  “My second mother,” I said and nodded my head. “She raised me after my mother died.”

  “Good folk in this old world.”

  “Yes, they are,” I agreed. “And speaking of good people, you seem to be one of them. From what the story I heard last night, you appear to be a very brave and gallant man.”

  “Not really, ma’am,” Matthew confessed. “I was mighty scared the day I took on the Logging Gang. I didn’t even know who I was gunning at until later. I thought the Logging Gang was down in the southern part of Texas.”

  “Still,” I added, “you fought bravely and killed two very bad men. I know your brother was killed, and I’m very sorry for that, but at least you managed to kill two men who will no longer be able to hurt anyone.”

  Matthew sighed. “Ma’am, I appreciate your kinds words. The truth is, I can’t really pat myself on the back. My brother is dead, and I let the man who shot him get away.”

  “The man who escaped ran away like a coward, through a back door, from what I was told.”

  “Be that as it may, ma’am, Jared Logger got away, and my brother was buried without justice being served,” Matthew replied. He looked up into my eyes and stared at me. “Mighty rough land for you to be traveling through alone.”

  “I have Samantha.”

  “Even so,” Matthew warned me, “there are some rough characters out there on the trail. Ain’t fitting for two women to be traveling alone.”

  “Samantha and I have been traveling alone for five years now. Sure, we’ve had a few rough moments, but God has always protected us.”

  Matthew continued to stare at me. “You’re a Christian, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I am,” I smiled. “Even though sometimes I forget to be grateful for the little things I’m given and act like a pouty brat. Still, God loves me and works on my heart.”

  “How do you act like a pouty brat?” Matthew asked.

  “Oh,” I said and sighed, “my dreaming of living in San Francisco or Sacramento, becoming a famous singer, living in a big house, eating fancy meals, going to snobby social gatherings, sipping champagne,” I shook my head. “Silly things that I don’t think God would approve.”

  “Why?”

  “Because being humble is difficult for me,” I explained. “Last night Samantha taught me to be grateful for what I have and to understand that God is giving me exactly what I need, not what I want. There’s a big difference. I know if I were to become famous I would never be humble again. Sad, but true.”

  Matthew nodded his head. “At least you’re honest.”

  I sipped on my coffee. “I do want a home and a patch of land for myself,” I admitted. “I do want to be recognized as a singer too. I’m not always going to be able to sing in this dusty little towns. I have my future to think about, you know,” I said in an urgent voice.

  “I bet,” Matthew agreed.

  I nodded my head. “A girl has to keep a smart mind these days,” I added. “Someday my break will happen, I’m sure of that.”

  “Will you stay humble when it does?”” Matthew asked.

  “I’ll sure try,” I smiled. “Besides, as much as I fuss and complain, God already has my future figured out for me. All I’m doing is walking in footsteps that have already been set down on my path.”

  “That’s a great deal of faith you’re talking about.”

  “I guess it is,” I said and wondered why I was speaking of faith to a man who seemed to lack faith? “Do you have faith?”

  Matthew tapped his gun. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “I mean in God,” I corrected myself.

  Matthew grew silent. He looked down at his gun and began wiping down the barrel with a brown, oily, rag. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’ll believe in God when God believes in me.” And with those words, Matthew stood up, gathered up his gun, and walked away.

  Chapter 2

  On Stage

  “Oh,” I said and stomped the floor in my hotel room, “what a time for it to rain.”

  Samantha stood at the window in my room and stared down at the street. The sky outside was dark, gray, and filled with hours of heavy rain. “The roof over the stage is leaking something awful. The show has be
en canceled until tomorrow night. Don’t worry. We have plenty of money and those Cowboys will be more than happy to wait a day or two to hear you sing again.”

  I plopped down on the left side of my bed and shoved my hands under my chin. I let my eyes walk down onto the lovely green dress I was wearing. I felt pretty, even though I was sure I looked like a green bean. “Another day in this town,” I fussed.

  “I agree this town is a bit rough. Last night there was a murder.”

  “A murder?” I asked.

  Samantha nodded her head. She kept her eyes focused on the wet street below. “The Sheriff had to gun down a man who shot his friend down in cold blood, right there in the middle of the street.”

  “I…he told me there had been a little bit of trouble, but…a murder…my goodness,” I exclaimed. I raised my head up and looked at Samantha. “Maybe we should leave this town?”

  “Not in this rain, and not a night,” Samantha warned me. “Besides, if we get one more show in we’ll have enough money to travel to Carson City and stay a few days. Carson City is a bit tamer than this town. We’ll be better off there.”

  I sighed. “Carson City is a fine place,” I said, “but I’ve sung there four times in the last two years. I’ve sung in every town in this territory. Maybe,” I suggested, “we can travel to…California?”

  “No,” Samantha told me. “Beth, those fancy city’s aren’t what you need.”

  “Oh, pooh,” I fussed again. Deep down, in my heart, I knew Samantha was protecting me from losing my heart and soul to the glitter and fame of show business.

  Samantha pointed down at the street. “There goes Matthew,” she said in a whisper.

  I stood up and walked over to the window. Samantha pointed down at the street. I spotted Matthew down on the street wearing a black coat. He walked up to two men who were standing outside of a General Store. The two men were arguing about something. “What’s he doing?” I asked.

  “Watch and see,” Samantha told me.

  I watched Matthew speak to the two men for a couple of minutes and then, to my shock, step back and yank out his gun faster than anything a bolt of lightning running across the sky. The two men threw their hands up in the air. Matthew approached them, retrieved their guns, and then marched them away. “Now what was that all about?”