The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

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The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels Page 23

by Sandee Keegan


  Samantha stepped away from the window. “Why don’t we ask Matthew to join us for supper tonight and we’ll find out.”

  A strange tingling sensation touched the edge of my nose. I turned and looked at Samantha. “Now wait a minute,” I said, “are you trying to pass me off?”

  “No, of course not,” Samantha smiled. “I just so happen to think that Matthew has the makings of a good husband, that’s all. And you can’t stay single all your life. Someday I would like a grandchild.”

  My face turned red. “I don’t even know the man. Goodness gracious, Samantha. I’m ready to get married. And when I do, I want to at least know who I’m marrying…I want love.”

  “I know you do,” Samantha said in a soft voice. “I see your eyes hungering for love.”

  “I’m sure not going to find love in this duty little nightmare of a town,” I told Samantha. “As a matter of fact, I must insist we leave as soon as the rain stops.”

  Samantha shook her head no. “No more performance,” she pleaded with me. “We need the money. And then it’s off to Carson City. I’ll buy you a new dress and get you some new hats.”

  “And then what?” I said in a sad voice. “Where will I wear my new dress and my new hats? In towns like the one we’re in right now?” I walked back to the bed and sat down. “Maybe we can try St. Louis or maybe…even Boston? My mother was from Boston.”

  Samantha walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. “I made your mother a promise to raise you the right way. I intend to keep that promise. When you’re ready to challenge a fancy city, we’ll go. But right now you’re heart isn’t ready or wise enough. You would fall victim to the first rodent who paid you a fake compliment. Besides, it’s like I said, we would starve to death just waiting for you to get an audition.”

  I wanted to object to Samantha’s statement and insist that I was mentally and emotionally prepared to challenge a large city, but inside of my heart, I knew Samantha was right. She was the one who slugged the man who grabbed my arm the night before. How would I have protected myself if Samantha had not been present? “It’s almost dinner time.”

  “I think I may take a walk over to the jail,” Samantha smiled. “Maybe there is a piece of gold in this coal mine, after all?”

  “No,” I begged. “Please, I have nothing in common with that man. We spoke earlier this morning. He doesn’t believe in God. The Bible teaches us not to be unequally yoked.”

  “The Bible also teaches us to preach the Good Word,” Samantha smiled and hurried out of my room before I could stop her. I shook my head, stood up, walked back to the window, and looked down at the rainy street. I spotted a man wearing a gray coat riding up the wet street with a black hat pulled down over his eyes. A cold chill slithered down my spine. I shivered and backed away from the window and hurried downstairs.

  An hour later Matthew walked into the dining room, dripping with rain, spotted Samantha and me sitting at our usual table beside the window, and walked over to us. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said and politely sat down and removed his black coat. “Busy day today.”

  “Yes,” I said trying to sound casual in the eyes of the other patrons, “I saw you make an arrest earlier from the window of my room.”

  Samantha kicked my leg. “What she means is,” she said and gave me a tough eye, “is that we saw you arrest two men.”

  Matthew situated himself and relaxed. “Two whiskey drinking miners who were intent on robbing the general store for supplies,” he explained. “They were too drunk to agree on which one of them was going to hold the gun and which one was going to steal the supplies and too stupid to realize that they’re bickering was being heard by Mr. Smith, the man who owns the general store.”

  I couldn’t help but toe grin. “Really?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matthew said. “I dread payday in this town. Men drink and lose their senses, while others, like those two miners, drink their money away and act a fool.”

  “I saw the trouble you had out on the street last night from my room,” Samantha told Matthew.

  “Yes,” I added, “I was unaware that you had to shoot down a man.”

  Matthew shook his head. “A drunk cowhand…brave on whiskey…gunned down his friend for mouthing off to him.” Matthew lowered his eyes. “He drew on me too. I had no choice.”

  I heard sadness and regret eat through Matthew’s voice. It was clear he didn’t like killing. Who did, I thought? “You must see a lot of violence.”

  “Whiskey causes men to act stupid,” Matthew replied. He raised his eyes and looked at me. “Men act stupid enough without whiskey interfering.”

  “Amen to that,” Samantha said. “My late husband drank his money away. He would take his bottle, invite his rich friends over, and play cards until the sun came up.”

  “Sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

  “Don’t be,” Samantha told Matthew and smiled at him. “Let’s talk cheerfully. Now tell me, are you married?”

  I kicked Samantha’s leg. Samantha kicked me back. “No ma’am, not married,” Matthew said and looked at me. “Haven’t found the right woman yet.”

  “The life of a lawman is difficult,” Samantha replied and hinted at me to take up where she left off.

  “Uh…yes, I suppose you’re it takes a certain type of woman to be the wife of a lawman,” I said and gave Samantha a mean eye. Samantha winked at me.

  “Well,” Matthew said and then hesitated.

  “Well, what?” Samantha asked. “Spit out your thoughts and stop chewing on them.”

  “Perhaps it would be rude to insist a person speak when they are not ready,” I told Samantha through gritted teeth. Matthew gave me a strange look.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I promised Matthew. “The wonderful lady sitting next to you is desperately attempting to get us hitched. I, on the other hand, think her plan is quite foolish. We are perfect strangers. I am a singer. You, sir, are a lawman. I believe in God. You, sir, do not. We are not compatible in the heart and personal belief.”

  Samantha shook her head. “You really know how to mess up a good steak, don’t you, girl,” she fussed.

  Matthew grinned. “I figured that’s what was taking place when I was asked to have supper with you. I only accepted because I didn’t want to be rude. I also accepted because I don’t care much to eat my supper alone. I like good company. My Pa was more than just a sheriff, he was a friend to his town, and he taught me to be the same way.”

  “Well, I’m sure the people in this town appreciate all you do for them,” I told Matthew. Suddenly, the image of the man in gray burst into my mind. A cold chill ran down my spine.

  “What’s wrong?” Samantha asked, reading my troubled eyes.

  “Oh,” I said trying to sound calm, “I saw a man ride into town earlier. I don’t know why, but the sight of him really…made me feel very cold inside…scared too.”

  “What did this man look like?” Matthew asked me.

  “He was wearing a gray coat…had a dark gray hat pulled down over his eyes,” I explained. “And oh, he was riding a horse that had a red circle on his back leg…the right leg, I think.”

  Matthew stared at me. “Are you sure,” he asked me in a voice that caused panic to grip my heart.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m not blind.”

  Matthew stood up from the table. “Excuse me,” he said and walked out of the dining room. I watched him leave and then looked at Samantha. Samantha sighed and didn’t say a word. Outside the rain continued to fall. Down the street, hidden in the Livery stable, a killer was waiting for Matthew.

  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

  “I must be crazy,” I told myself as I rushed out of the dining room. I caught up with Matthew just as he walked out of the front door of the hotel. “Wait,” I called out and raced out onto a wet and shadowy veranda.

  Matthew stopped, turned, and looked at me. “Ma’am?”

  “That man I saw,” I said
trying to calm my racing heart, “who is he?”

  Matthew tossed his eyes out into the heavy rain. “Jared Logger.”

  “The bank robber who got away?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Matthew confessed. “Ma’am, you better go back inside. If you hear shooting, don’t panic. Jared Logger is in town for one reason. He won’t bother anyone else.”

  “He’s come to kill you,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” I asked. “This man is a wanted criminal.”

  “Maybe so,” Matthew told me, “but his soul is hungering for revenge. I killed two of his brothers. Jared Logger vowed to gun me down. I’ve been waiting for him.”

  I stood still and listened to the rain fall. I felt scared for Matthew. The name ‘Jared Logger’ made me my heart feel as if it were being covered with slabs of ice. “You’re going to fight him?”

  “I have a duty to carry out,” Matthew nodded his head. “Ma’am—”

  “My name is Beth.”

  Matthew turned and looked at me. “Beth,” he said in a soft voice, “I came to this town because Jared Logger grew up here. I figured he would come back here soon or a later. Now he’s back. I know you can’t understand that, but please try.”

  “Oh, I understand,” I assured Matthew. “The wicked must die, Matthew. But God Himself destroys the wicked.”

  “God doesn’t believe in me,” Matthew replied and turned back toward the rain. “Before my brother died I prayed and read the Good Book every day…faithfully. My Pa and me, we served the badge the way the Good Book taught us. How were we rewarded? My brother was shot dead. My Pa gave up the badge and went to drinking. My Ma shriveled up inside of her heart and gave up on living…one bullet caused all that misery…God couldn’t stop one bullet? I believed in God, but He didn’t believe in me.”

  “That’s not true,” I snapped at Matthew. Instead of allowing compassion to flood from my voice I dressed my voice with absolute anger. “My father was killed. Do I blame God? My mother died when I young. Do I blame God? I’m standing here in this miserable little town. Do I blame God? Oh, I fuss and pout at times…much more than I ought to…but deep down, in my heart, I trust that God knows what is best for me. I’m very sorry your brother was killed, Matthew, but God has His reasons.” I approached Matthew and gently touched his shoulder. “Samantha once told me that when a man has carried out his duty for God on this earth, God takes him home. Now, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it could be. I feel in my heart that it is.”

  Matthew glanced over at my hand and then looked back into the rain. “My brother was a Christian, ma’am. Are you saying that God took him home because he didn’t have any more purpose?”

  “I’m saying,” I told Matthew and softened my voice, “that God took your brother back to His Kingdom because it was time. Who are we…” I rolled my eyes and looked down at my arm, “who are we…people made of dirt…to judge God? Did you ever stop and think, Matthew, that God was with your brother when he was killed…there to comfort him as he crossed over from life to death? You said your brother was a Christian…so surely God didn’t desert him as he died. Of course, it could have been the other way around too. Once I saw a man bitten by a deadly snake. He died…so scared…because he refused to love God with his heart. Of course, before this man got bit he was rough and mean. He died alone…in his heart and spirit…God was not with him.”

  Matthew stood silent for a minute. “I never thought it like that before,” he admitted. “I never thought…that God was with my brother when he died. I always figured God deserted us.”

  “It’s easy to get mad at God when life gets tough. But you know what?”

  “What?” Matthew asked keeping his eyes focused on the rain.

  “When Jesus died on the Cross for you and me…do you know he prayed beforehand?”

  Matthew slowly turned around, faced me, and then bowed his head. “Not My will be done…but yours,” he whispered.

  I nodded my head. “God’s Will be done, Matthew, not out own. I tend to forget that truth myself at times when I start dreaming about being a famous singer, living in a fancy house, drinking expensive champagne. But, in the end, God’s Will be done.”

  “I’m still good to folks. I still serve the badge. I’ve always kept a smile and gentle hand until I’m forced to draw my gun. I’ve continued to serve the law faithfully and—”

  “We have to serve God faithfully before we can serve a badge or people,” I told Matthew with a caring voice. “Before we love people, we have to love God first. Before we can work for people, we have to work for God first and do His Will. Samantha reminds me of this truth all the time.”

  Matthew patted the gun sitting on his right hip. “I have work to do,” he said and walked off into the rain. I watched Matthew walk up the rainy street toward the livery stable. The street was empty, muddy, dark and lonely. Some of the wooden buildings lining the street were dark, some of the buildings had light glowing in their windows. The local saloon was loud and noisy, I couldn’t spot anyone standing outside the saloon doors. Matthew was alone. He walked up the rainy street preparing to fight a man who had gunned his brother out of duty—but I knew anger and pain would be the finger that pulled the trigger on his gun. On the outside, a man could appear normal. Within his heart, though, a personal war was raging. I felt that Matthew was fighting a war, struggling desperately to defeat his inner guilt and find absolution.

  Chapter 3

  Last Fight in the Heart

  I knew not to follow Matthew. I honestly didn’t want to. It was dark, wet and rainy. Besides, what could I do? Matthew and Jared Logger were going to draw guns on each other no matter how desperately I tried to stop the fight. And why should I even try and stop the fight, I thought, easing my way down the left side of a muddy street, struggling to keep Matthew’s shadowy form in my sight. Jared Logger was a killer and Matthew was sworn to uphold the law. Still I wondered, feeling the heavy rain soaking through my dress and drenching my hair. I felt the need to follow Matthew, as if I needed to protect him somehow. Of course, I couldn’t protect a rabbit let alone a grown man with a gun…yet in my heart I felt the need to be close to Matthew in his darkest hour. Why? I didn’t know. Was God speaking to my heart? I wasn’t sure. I surely didn’t have any desire to be chasing after a strange man down a rainy street, getting mud all over my dress, and risking the chance of catching a cold. “Then go back to the hotel, dry off, eat dinner, and go to bed,” I whispered to myself stopping in front of the general store. For a couple of second my legs almost turned and walked back to the hotel, but my heart refused. “Oh, pooh,” I fussed and continued to follow Matthew.

  Matthew stopped in front of the livery stable. The livery stable was dark and drenched with rain. The sound of tired horses drifted through the stable’s front door, which was open just far enough for a man to step through. I dashed over to a large tree sitting to the right of the livery stable and watched Matthew examine the dark stable with cautious eyes. “Logger!” he called out in a voice that sent chills down my spine. Death was in Matthew’s voice.

  Jared Logger stepped through the stable door and walked out into the rain. He appeared as a dark shadow and nothing else. “I’ve been waiting a long time, lawman,” Jared Logger told Matthew in a voice filled with the screams and dead, innocent, men. “You killed my brothers.”

  Matthew rested his right hand on his gun. He stood very still and allowed the heavy rain to cover his heart. My heart began racing as if some madman had attached it to a racing bull. “What do I do, Lord?” I asked. But before I could do anything Jared Logger went for his gun. Matthew shot him dead before the man could blink. And then…only the sound of the rain falling filled my ears. A few minutes later a group of men came running up to Matthew. One of the men in the group rushed over and bent down next to Jared Logger. “Well if the sky ain’t blue,” he yelled, “Matthew done went and shot down Jared Logger! Got him square in the chest, too!”

  �
��Drag his body up to the hill and dump it in,” Matthew told the group of men. He returned his gun back to its resting place, turned, and walked away.

  “In this rain?” a man called out.

  “In the rain,” Matthew yelled over his shoulder. “I’ll pay double. Just dump the body and come to the jail when you’re done. I’ll be there.”

  Matthew’s voice didn’t enter the rain pleased and happy—instead, his voice sounded angry and upset. I wasn’t sure why? Surely Matthew should have been relieved that he finally killed the man who shot down his brother, but he wasn’t. Confused, I decided to follow Matthew back down to the jail. I wasn’t very happy about being wet and hungry, but God kept tugging on my heart. So I walked to the jail and found Matthew inside preparing to make a pot of coffee. “You saw me kill Jared Logger,” he told me as soon as I walked through the front door.

  “I saw,” I admitted. I stepped into a small wooden room that held a wooden stove and an old desk covered with papers. A few wanted papers were stuck to the right wall and a gun rack holding three rifles rested on the left wall. “Cozy,” I said closing the front door.

  “It’s a jail, not a hotel,” Matthew said shoving wood into the stove. “Why did you follow me?”

  “Why did you let me follow you?” I asked in return. I felt cold and wanted to warm myself beside the stove but decided to remain standing in front of the door. “You don’t seem very happy that you killed the man who shot your brother, either. Why?”

  Matthew slammed the door on the stove shut, stood up, looked at me with upset eyes, and then walked over to his desk and plopped down in a chair that creaked and moaned under his weight. He looked up at the ceiling and then looked down at his desk. “You sing mighty pretty.”

  “So you’ve told me.”

  Matthew nodded his head. “But you don’t enjoy singing, not in towns like this.”

 

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