Heart of a Lady (Book One of the Red River Valley Brides)

by Hestand, Rita

  The other girls stood with their mouths hanging open. But Sarah ran for cover, Trish frowned, and Maggie stood with her hand on her hips and a smile on her face.

  Jo Ella almost forgot to cover herself, or act indignant. She was a lady, and she had to remember that. It would be easy to forget with this man.

  "A gentleman doesn't stare when a lady isn't dressed properly," she managed a little too late. "We are totally at a disadvantage here."

  She shivered from the sheer magnetism of his suggestive glance. He was so strangely handsome she nearly lost her breath.

  "Sorry, ma'am. In other circumstances, I'd stare all day, as I'm not really a gentleman, but I gotta get out of here. I see you had trouble on the stage." He nodded toward the overturned stagecoach. "Are you all right now?"

  "Yes, we're fine."

  "Well, don't trouble yourself. There's a sheriff right behind me. I'm sure he'll be glad to rescue you ladies." He tipped his hat to all the women. He started to leave, but his expression sobered as he turned to add. "You truly are the prettiest thing I've ever seen." He tipped his hat with his finger, winked at her, and was gone.

  "Who was that?" Maggie asked with interest.

  "I don't rightly know, but from his eagerness to get out of here, I think he might be some outlaw or something," Jo Ella said breathlessly.

  "If he is an outlaw, maybe we are lookin' the wrong way." Maggie chuckled.

  "We don’t' want any part of him. He's trouble." Jo Ella wrinkled her nose up, but she couldn't stop herself from watching him ride away. He sat the saddle proudly and relaxed as though it were a second home to him.

  Jo Ella quickly determined she would forget the man.

  After they had all dressed and were discussing their next move, another man rode up, with company on the hill above them. The man was neatly dressed and clean, and Jo Ella decided she liked that. "Morning," she said with a smile, batting her eyes.

  "Mornin', ma'am. I'm Sheriff Harry Jones, at your service. We've been out lookin' for the stage for several hours now. It's always on time. Looks as though you people had some accident here. Since I see the wheel down there by the river, I'd assumed they lost it around the curve and the coach slid off the incline. Are you ladies the only survivors?" His voice sounded deep and husky.

  "Y-yes, yes we are." Jo Ella used her best manners. "It happened late yesterday. We managed to bury the shotgun rider but couldn't find the driver. We were so sore and tired we just couldn't do much more. You'll have to forgive us. We aren't used to that kind of work…"

  "Don't you worry yourself about that, ma'am. We'll be takin' care of it now. You finish up there, and we'll get you ladies right on into town." The sheriff nodded, lifted his finger to his hat, and rode back up the hill where he'd come from.

  Jo Ella was feeling the effects of the accident now. As she had tried to get into her corset she yelped from the pain. The other girls had to help her. She moaned as Maggie laced her up good.

  "This will help those ribs a bit." Maggie assured her.

  They watched in the bushes from a distance as five or six men gathered about the stagecoach. Two other men carried the body of the driver down the hill where they had buried the shotgun rider.

  "He's cute. I wish the others would come closer so we could look them over." Trish smiled.

  "We have to act like proper ladies, Trish, not eager ones," Jo Ella hushed her.

  Maggie walked between them, "Heck fire, Jo Ella, even ladies can appreciate a good looking man when she sees them."

  "We ain't married yet. Besides, these gentlemen might be our husbands someday," Trish pushed her red-gold hair from her face and looked the rest of the men over. "I sure want to start pickin' someone out as soon as I can. And looks as though we have a whole passel of them to sort from."

  "You stick to the plan. Don't go messin' it up for us, any of you." Maggie frowned at her. "We don't even know if they come from Vada or not. We gotta use our heads a little girls."

  "I just thought… Well, he was cute. And I saw Jo Ella lookin' at that outlaw or whatever he was like she could devour him alive." Trish snickered. "Of course he was interesting, even if he was outside the law."

  The sheriff shot Jo Ella a glance.

  "Stop it. They'll hear us."

  The Sheriff edged his horse closer to Jo Ella, his eyes pinned on her as he talked to one of the other men. Jo Ella eased herself back into the bushes with the other girls.

  "We better get those women folk in to see the doc. They might be more hurt than they know. From the looks of that stage, I don't see how any of them are alive. From what I could tell, Sam must have took sick while drivin'. We'll come back and bury him later and pick up the stage."

  "Yeah Sheriff, but we didn't bring a wagon. How we gonna do this?" One of the youngest of the bunch asked.

  "They'll just have to get up behind us on our horses. It's all we can do. Let's finish up here and get on into town."

  All the while the Sheriff was talking, the girls were behind the bushes, finishing putting their clothes on. They were so sore and hurt they had to help each other button, and buckle and pull on and off. But in a half hour or so, they all came out and joined the men, dressed in fine silks. Jo Ella walked up to the sheriff. "We do have some severe bruises that need tendin'. I do hope you have a doctor in town."

  "We'll get you all to a doc. Rest easy." His voice softened as his eyes were fixed on her. He cleared his throat, and smiled, then bent down to help her up behind him.

  Jo Ella's arms went around a solid and rather hard middle, that reeked muscle and brawn. She glanced up and saw a lock of tawny hair peeked from his wide brimmed hat. Before he took off with her, he twisted about to look at her, he pinned her with his dark gray eyes.

  As the last shovel of dirt covered the grave, another man stood in front of them. They had decided not to leave the body lying around, the buzzards would no doubt have a meal if they did. The way he spoke those words with such conviction and caring said he was a preacher. He was young and rather handsome, and Sarah couldn't stop staring.

  Once the preacher finished, Sarah laid a small bunch of wild flowers on the grave that she picked especially for the funeral. The preacher smiled at her and glanced at the Sheriff.

  "Ladies, we'll have to double up on the horses, and get you on into town now so the doc can look you over. Ain't got a wagon, so that's the only way." His voice was deep and commanded attention.

  Jo Ella seemed to study him a moment. The man was a natural leader. Again the Sheriff helped her up behind him and she grunted. "I know you are the Sheriff, but what town are you from?""

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm the Sheriff of Vada, and that's where we are headed.…"

  "Oh good. Finally."

  "Meanin' no disrespect, but what are you ladies doing on a stage to Vada? I assume all of you are headed there together, right?" He smiled, eyeing her.

  Jo Ella's mouth dropped open. She shouldn't have been shocked at his bold assessment of her as she had done the same to him.

  "We're mail order brides, sir."

  The smile quickly faded from his face, and she missed it. "All of you?"

  Jo Ella shrugged and gave a weak nod. "Oh… yes."

  The sheriff's smile returned even bolder than before. He was very attractive when he smiled, but he wasn't as handsome as the outlaw she couldn't get off her mind. Maybe she was hurt more than she knew. That man was not husband material, but the sheriff might be.

  The sheriff called his men around, and after packing up the best they could, they hauled the women behind them and took off for Vada.

  "But we left our trunk…" Jo Ella wailed.

  "I'll send someone back for it. We need to get into town before dark."

  Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was his intention, but the sheriff seemed to pick up the pace.

  Her arms wrapped around his lean waist easily. She inhaled the male scent of him—dirt, sweat, and a touch of lye soap. Her hands came in contact with pure raw muscles tha
t strained as they rode. The man was tense. Jo Ella let out a small wail. The jarring of the horse ride made her pain more acute, especially when she remembered to breathe.

  "I knew you were hurt more than you let on." His low voice comforted her.

  After riding for almost two hours, they came to a small grove with a general store, another couple of buildings, an almost built store, and a shack, with a couple of houses out back and a church at the end of the street. The sheriff slid off his horse. Jo Ella had to remember to wait, to be helped. She only hoped the others did too.

  "Doc?" The sheriff called as he picked up Jo Ella and carried her inside the general store. The others did the same, and the ladies didn't object. In fact, Trish was making eye contact with her rescuer now. He was a big man, much older, and not that easy on the eyes. But he seemed to care about the condition she was in and took her right behind Jo Ella into the general store. Maggie looked a little worse for wear. She said very little and was eager for help getting down off the horse.

  An older man with a bent over walk and a bushy brow scuttled into the room as the men set the ladies down on barrels to rest.

  "Doc, we found the stage. Looked pretty bad. They went over the west creek cliff. Killed the driver, the shotgun rider. These ladies need doctorin', doc."

  "Bring 'em out back and be gentle. We don't know what might be hurt on 'em," the doc instructed as he glanced from one to the other. Jo Ella looked at the old man with glasses and a light gray beard. He seemed to study them carefully.

  By now, all of the sore spots from the crash were beginning to take their toll. When the sheriff's arms came around her once more to carry her through, she wailed faintly.

  As he set her down again, she noticed she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. He had to be over six feet tall.

  "Sorry, ma'am. The doc will fix you right up. Don't you fret. You are in good hands now." He smiled down at her

  Never in all her nineteen years had anyone smiled like that at her. Her insides went to mush, and she couldn't open her mouth to say a word.

  "Harry," The doctor called to the Sheriff, "bring my bag over here, and you fellas clear out, so I can examine them, please."

  The men nodded, tipped their hats, and left the room. The sound of boots and spurs hitting the floor sounded like a huge crowd had gathered.

  "Now what's your name, child?"

  Jo Ella hadn't felt like a child in years, but the old doctor inspired a certain amount of trust. "I'm Jo Ella Masterson. " She said moving a thick head of dark curls to the side of her face.

  He nodded.

  The doctor had Jo Ella disrobe partially and sit on a table like platform as he began his examination. When he touched her ribs, she let out a muffled cry.

  The doc nodded. "Just what I figured…" He mumbled as if to himself. The way you were movin' I figured you had some busted ribs. We'll get them bound up and you fixed in no time. You just take it easy."

  "Thank you…" she barely whispered.

  After he wrapped her ribs, and helped her dress once more, he meticulously examined the others. He pulled Sarah into the back room and eyed her a moment. "What's your name girl?"

  "My name's Sarah Mills, doc." She managed in a weak and low voice.

  "Good, well now Sarah…it looks pretty obvious to me, the way you've been hobbling about since they brought you in that you have a sprained ankle. I'll have to examine you to tell what else." He said as he began wrapping her ankle.

  "Stay off your feet as much as possible. I think Ma Jones has some crutches you can use. Now, let me see, are you sore anywhere?"

  Sarah shyly pointed to her backside.

  He grunted and unzipped her dress so he could take a good look. "Yes ma'am, you've got a bad bruise there. It will be triple colored by the 'morrow I expect. It's best you stay off your feet for a while, young lady."

  "Yes sire…thank you."

  "Tell Ma Jones to put some ice on it for you, at least twice a day. If you aren't better in a week, I'll need to see you again."

  "Okay…but who is Ma Jones?"

  "You'll find out soon enough. Now who is next." He called out and Trish came through the curtained doorway.

  "What's your name, child?" He asked as Sarah left the room and Trish came up to the table.

  "Trish Morgan sir…" She said proudly.

  "What hurts on you?" He asked.

  "My head hurts worst of all…" She touched it lightly.

  The doc examined her and nodded. "It should hurt, that's some bump you have. You've got a concussion young lady. Not much I can do, except stitch it up where it broke the skin and tell you to get plenty of rest. I got something for the pain if it becomes unbearable. Looks like you have bruises all over. Well, I'll need to see you again in a week or so to make sure they all heal up. In the meantime if you get nauseous or anything let me know."

  "Alright, I can do that…" Trish said after he stitched her head up.

  "Send the next one in, will ya?" He asked as he watched her walk out the door way.

  Maggie came sauntering in. She was full of spice and sugar and she smiled at the old doctor.

  "Nothing wrong with me but bruises I think, doc."

  "I'll decide that, young lady, what's your name?"

  "I'm Maggie Hilton doc." She moved around freely in the room.

  "I'll still need to examine you. Now settle down up here on my table." The doc instructed her.

  Maggie jumped up on the table and frowned.

  "Well what's wrong?" He asked.

  "It's my backside doc…Jo Ella said it looked bad."

  He examined it and shook his head. "All you girls have been hurt, but not half as bad as I would have thought, being tossed around in that stagecoach, rolling down a hill like that. I'm surprised you aren't all dead."

  Maggie looked at him and then a big smile popped out on her face. "We couldn't die yet, doc."

  "Why not?" He asked with curiosity at her positive attitude.

  "Well doc, we're all mail order brides." Maggie announced.

  "Well that explains it, doesn't it?" He said boldly.

  "Explains what?"

  "It proves my theory. Nothin' will keep a woman away from matrimony."

  Maggie laughed out loud.

  "You rest up. You are really badly bruised, I'll need to check on you in a week or two. Make sure there are no internal injuries."

  Maggie shook her head. "How you gonna know if there are or aren't."

  "If there are, you won't heal, you'll keep coloring there."

  "Oh…."

  "Now send in the last one." He said with a smile.

  Nadine came in, bashfully. She'd been seen by white doctors before, but every time it was an experience for her.

  "Hello there, what's your name?" The doctor asked.

  "Nadine Williams."

  "And I can see your eye has been injured. Let me take a good look at that." He got out an instrument and began to examine her eye.

  "Just as I suspected. You've got a splinter in it, and it is badly bruised. Now I'll have to pull the splinter out, so you will be brave won't you. Or do I need to give you a shot of whiskey first?"

  "No…just do what you gotta do…" She said hanging her head.

  "You'll have to wear a patch over your eye for a while until it heals. I'll need to see you every week until I'm sure you are healing properly."

  "Sure…"

  It was nearly two hours before he was through.

  "Well ladies, I'm pleased to make your acquaintances. I'm doc Frazier and I would have introduced myself earlier but your needs were more important at the time, than mine. Sarah, you've got a bad ankle and a lot of severe bruising. Did you ladies do anything after the accident?"

  All of them looked at each other. "Why no. Just buried the shotgun rider, is all."

  "Buried him?" The doctor's bushy brows shot up. "Looks like you all put a strain on your own injuries then. Actually, I'm surprised you aren't hurt more, especially since t
he others died from it. You were mighty lucky, but wherever you are goin', well, let's just say it's gonna take a little longer than you planned to get there."

  Jo Ella shook her head. "But, doc, we're about to be married. We're not goin' anywhere. We are mail order brides."

  "Oh, oh, I see. You signed Colonel Hayes' contract then?"

  "Yes, we did."

  "That's good. You'll be at the Boarding House. Colonel Hayes died last year of consumption, but have no fear. We'll honor the contract you signed. Marriage is a good thing, and there are several here that need wives."

  "He died? I wish we'd known." Jo Ella avoided the other girls' sideways glances at her.

  "We can take care of you all, and you are most welcome. We haven't had anyone answer those ads for a long while now. They been in the paper so long I guess we plumb forgot about them. But a contract is a contract. You see, about half the men are married now. The need isn't as great as it used to be, but there are still enough bachelors to go around."

  "Oh, well, we didn't realize that." Jo Ella nodded. "If you like we can leave…"

  "Not to worry your pretty little heads. Women are scarce out here, and a welcome sight. Now, I'm gonna send you over to Ma Jones and she'll put you up. You'll be safe and snug there." The doc nodded.

  "Ma Jones?" they asked at the same time.

  "She runs the boarding house here. It's all we got." The doc smiled at them. "You'll be good as new in my care. But you must follow my instructions if you want to heal. Do you understand?"

  "But doc, you sound as though we should go to bed and stay there." Sarah wailed.

  "That's right, you should have bed rest for a week and then we can see how each of you progress. I'm surprised you want to be up and running around." The doctor fastened his bag.

  "Now what?" Trish felt a little dizzy and grabbed hold of a counter behind her. She tried not to let on to the others how sick at her stomach she was.

  "It's only for a short while," Jo Ella promised. "Just settle down. We are gonna be fine."

  "Did you see the town? Don't look like much to me." Maggie glanced out the window, her eyes wide with disappointment. "I mean it's not much different than Sourdough. I guess I expected too much."