by Kit Morgan
“Fought what?”
“Being unladylike.” Eloise said, turning up her nose mockingly. “We gave up long ago. Not completely, mind you, but let’s face the facts – we’ve not seen anyone like us our entire journey. What are we to do?”
Penelope sat up the rest of the way. “We must teach those around us proper decorum, or otherwise we risk sinking to the lower levels of society. Mother would be appalled.”
Constance’s eyes grew wide and she pointed at Penelope.
“What?” Penelope asked crossly. “You know I am right.”
Eloise gasped as her hands flew to her mouth.
“What?!” Penelope asked in a sharp tone. “Why precisely are you gaping like codfish?”
Constance and Eloise pointed at the same time, their mouths open as if in a silent scream. Penelope’s own mouth snapped shut as she followed the direction their looks of horror were taking ...
.. and found the biggest, nastiest, ugliest spider any of them had ever seen, crawling across her lap.
As if on cue, all three women screamed at once.
* * *
It was all August Bennett needed to hear to kick his horse into a gallop, race over the hill and down to the Triple-C. He had spoken with Sadie in town, and got her permission to head out to the ranch ahead of them and meet his bride. But it sounded like he was riding right into an outlaw raid ...
What greeted him was chaos, but thankfully not of the highwayman-and-robber variety. Three women were screaming and running around a clothesline as if their skirts were on fire. One, a redhead, was slapping at the front of her dress and jumping up and down like a madwoman. The other two had settled for yelling and waving their arms as they circled the laundry.
He brought his horse to a stop and stared a moment, trying to figure out if any real harm had been done, then realized one of them was emitting hysterical “ewwws,” while the redhead asked between screams “where is it? where is it?”
Just to be safe, he drew his gun. “It” could well be a rattler. “Calm down!” he ordered as he dismounted. “Where’s the varmint?” Two of the women pointed to the redhead, who now whimpered and stood still, shaking like a leaf. August narrowed his eyes and slowly approached her. “What is it?”
She met his gaze and replied through fresh tears. “Spider!”
“Spider?” August repeated, annoyed. “Is that all?” He holstered his gun. “Spider,” he said again. “Don’t you know not to scream like that? Someone’s bound to think there’s real trouble. Nothing worse than coming and finding out there’s nothing ... oh, jumping Jehosaphat, that is a pretty good-sized one at that ...”
Penelope froze. She shook her head at him. “Get it off please wherever it is get it OFF!” she said, her voice rising to a screech.
Eloise looked at the hem of Penelope’s dress where August’s eyes were glued, and swooned.
“What the Sam blazes ...?” he said as he watched her go down in a heap of skirt and petticoats.
Constance flew to her side, her eyes riveted on her sister’s dress. “Don’t move, Penelope. I think it’s still alive.”
Penelope whimpered again, and was about to join Eloise on the ground, when August walked to her and flicked the beast away with one hand.
Unfortunately, he sent it flying toward the other girls. It landed square on Eloise’s chest. Constance, who’d had Eloise’s head cradled in her lap, froze. “Help!”
August caught the redhead as she went down in a dead faint, and stared at the terrified look in the other girl’s eyes. “Now calm down, ma’am. That ain’t nothing but a wolf spider. It’s a decent-sized one, but he ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Constance’s eyes rolled back in her head in answer as she fell over onto the ground with a small thud.
August still had the pretty redhead in his arms – and even in the midst of chaos had not failed to notice how pretty she was. He scooped her up the rest of the way and hurried over to the other two. “Well,” he said in amusement. “If you just ain’t the biggest, baddest wolf spider I ever did see! You know you’re causing a lot of trouble, don’t you?” He set the woman in his arms gently on the ground, then waved his hand at the eight-legged beast to get it moving. The spider crawled off of Eloise’s chest and began to pick its way through the grass. “Yeah, you ain’t so tough when someone is awake, are you?”
He looked to the three women lying about his feet. “And I guess neither are any of you ....” With his hands on his hips, he stood and studied each woman individually. He scratched his head. “Now, which one of you is mine?”
Three
August pondered the idea of lining the unconscious women up so they wouldn’t look like they’d simply fallen dead at his feet due to his bad breath or something. Unfortunately, before he could do so, Sadie and Belle came over the hill in the wagon. Logan Kincaid, the Triple-C’s foreman, was riding right behind them – he’d accompanied them to Clear Creek and was now escorting them back. They’d been only a few minutes behind him, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain three passed-out women. He had hoped by now they would have regained consciousness ...
“Mr. Bennett!” Sadie cried as she pulled on the reins and brought her team of horses to a stop. “What happened?”
August gave her a helpless look and shrugged. “Spider.”
Sadie and Belle sat atop the wagon seat, and did a double take. “That must have been some spider,” Belle said under her breath.
“It was,” August said as he glanced around. “But I don’t see it now.”
“What in tarnation happened here?” Logan said as he rode up.
“Spider ...” Belle said with a grimace. Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning the ground.
“Did it bite them?” Sadie asked concerned. “Do we need to fetch Doc Drake?”
“No, it was one of those big hairy wolf spiders. They can get huge, and I admit that had to be the biggest I’ve ever seen. Would’ve filled the palm of my hand if I’d picked it up.”
“Like one of them tarantulas they have down in Texas?” Logan asked.
“Not that big, but big enough to frighten the likes of ... well ...” He waved his hand helplessly at the inert women.
One of them moaned – the pretty redhead. August dropped to one knee and helped her to a sitting position. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
She opened her eyes and stared at him, then suddenly jumped up and began slapping at her skirts. “No, no, no!” she cried. “Get it away!”
“It’s all right, ma’am, it’s gone. You’re okay.”
She started to flay her arms, ignoring his words.
He caught her by the wrists to still her. “Settle down, now.” He looked into her frightened eyes. “You’re safe, you hear?”
She shuddered and stared back at him as the other two women’s eyes began to flutter open. “What happened?” she asked. “Did I faint?”
“You all did,” August announced. “Haven’t you ever seen a spider before?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “That, sir, was no spider. That was an abomination.”
Logan chuckled at her response as he helped Belle down from the wagon. That done, he reached up, took Honoria from Sadie and handed her to Belle, then got Sadie on the ground. “There are probably quite a few critters ‘round here you’re unfamiliar with. A spider ain’t anythin’ to worry about. A rattlesnake – now that is! Thank Heaven it weren’t one o’ those.”
“Snakes?” the redhead repeated, her eyes widening again.
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Sadie interjected. “You’ve obviously had a fright. I suggest we go inside and I’ll fix you all a nice cup of tea. Logan, would you unload the wagon while I see to my husband’s cousins?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Logan answered.
“Cousins?” August asked confused. “Mrs. Cooke, I, ah ... I thought your guests were the, ah ... well ...”
“The mail-order brides?” she finished for him.
“Er,
yes, ma’am. I was under the impression they arrived in town yesterday. I didn’t know you had relatives visiting.” He looked at the women sitting on the ground, and recalled that the pretty redhead had spoken with a British accent. He hadn’t noticed it through her earlier screaming.
Sadie straightened. “They are one and the same.”
“What?” he asked as he pulled Miss Redhead to her feet. “Are you telling me the letters I had you send to my mail-order bride ... they went all the way to England?”
“Yes, they did. And these are the women they went to.” She motioned to Miss Red, whose wrists he still held. “August Bennett, meet Miss Penelope Sayer, your mail-order bride.”
August stared down at her and gaped. This was his mail-order bride? Sure, she was pretty – he’d even go so far as to say she was beautiful. But a few minutes before, she’d been screaming and carrying on like she was being tortured by a band of wild savages. Over a spider, and a fairly harmless one at that ...
“Kindly unhand me,” she spat.
August let go her wrists and took a step back. “Are you okay now, ma’am?”
She brushed at the skirt of her dress with as much dignity as she could muster and marched toward the house. “As well as can be expected in this place.” She stopped up short and turned to face him. “Good Lord, did she say what I think she said?”
“If you mean Mrs. Cooke, then ... yes. I’m to be your husband.”
She looked him up and down as if he had eight legs. Did she not like what she saw? He thought he’d cleaned up pretty nice – heck, he even got a hair cut for the occasion. Sadie had told him to come out to the ranch to have supper with them and meet his mail-order bride, so he’d tried to look his best.
But said bride didn’t look too enthralled with the idea of getting to know him. Especially not when she spun on her heel and continued her march toward the house.
August sighed, and then looked down at the remaining two. “Are you all right?” They both nodded as he held out his hand to one while Sadie did the same for the other. Together they helped them up and watched as they brushed the grass and leaves from their skirts in silence.
“August, I’d like you to meet Constance and Eloise Sayer,” Sadie said, motioning to each in turn. “Penelope’s sisters.”
August tipped his hat to them. “Ladies.”
Sadie smiled. “This is Mr. August Bennett. As you already heard, Penelope is his mail-order bride.”
“Mail-order bride,” Eloise repeated. “I dare say, no matter how many times I hear that term, it makes me feel like a ... parcel of some sort.”
“You are one of the gentlemen that wrote those lovely letters?” Constance asked.
August looked at Constance. She was a tiny thing with hazel eyes and golden brown hair. He could see a hint of red in it, like that of her sister’s, and he wondered which of the Jones brothers she was betrothed to: Ryder or Seth? “I don’t know about being ‘lovely,’ but we did write them ourselves, yes.”
“Are you a cowboy, Mr. Bennett?” Constance asked.
“No, ma’am. I like to think of myself as a farmer now.”
“A farmer?” the other woman asked. She was blonde, also with hazel eyes. “Penelope, the wife of a farmer?”
“I’m hoping for a cowboy!” said Constance.
August looked at the one called Eloise. “And you, ma’am? What are you hoping for?”
“A decent roof over my head ... preferably with no spiders,” she answered with a grimace.
August couldn’t help himself – he laughed. Whichever woman Seth or Ryder wound up with, he knew they were going to be in the same fix he was. None of these women were a good match for any of them.
* * *
“All I’m asking you to do, August, is give her a chance,” Sadie argued as she paced back and forth in the study. “Get to know her a little before you marry if you must, but they didn’t come all the way out here to be rejected. They went through enough of that back in England.”
“I think I’ve seen enough. They were dancing around like a bunch of ... well, it wasn’t a fitting sight. These women aren’t made for this kind of hard life, Mrs. Cooke. I don’t see how they’re gonna survive out here.”
“How does any woman survive out here without a man by her side?” Sadie countered. “Look at me! If it weren’t for Harrison coming along when he did to rescue me from those outlaws a few years back, I wouldn’t be here.”
August couldn’t say much to that. Things happened, even to someone as tough as Sadie Cooke. For a little thing, she was quite the spitfire.
“Not only that, but take Cozette. She can shoot as good as any man, but that didn’t stop her from being kidnapped along with the other women the night we held our first dance here at the Triple-C. You’ve heard the stories, I know you have.”
Right again. Even Mrs. Dunnigan, tough old buzzard that she was, had been taken hostage that night and carried off to the hills. It took more than a dozen men to rescue them, though if one were to believe the tale, Mr. Berg and a Scotsman did most of the rescuing. The Cooke brothers themselves had been captured by the outlaws and put in peril. “All the more reason these women won’t survive here. Just as you said, look at what’s happened in the past to tough women like yourself – kidnapped, threatened, almost killed. But these English women ... Mrs. Cooke ... it was just a spider!”
“I thought you said it was a large one.”
August snapped his mouth shut. What could he say, it had been – even though he knew it was more afraid of him than he was of it, if the thing been crawling on him, he’d have had quite the case of the shivers. But that was beside the point. You’d have thought the woman would at least be grateful that he’d stepped in and flicked it off her. But so far, Penelope Sayer hadn’t given him a second glance, let alone shown anything that could be construed as gratitude ... “I think I ought to be going.”
“No! August, please, they’ve come so far ...”
“Mrs. Cooke, I just don’t think this is going to work. Ryder and Seth ... well, you’ve seen my new place, and it’s mighty fine, but Ryder’s cabin is ... well ... I just can’t picture any of these ladies living in it. The minute his intended, whichever one he’s gonna get, sees it, she’s gonna faint for sure.”
“My idea is to let you be the first to court while Belle and I educate the others on a few things. They’ll need to learn how to sew, cook, clean ...”
“I rest my case, Mrs. Cooke – they are totally unprepared for this life. And in the case of mine, at least, totally uninterested.” He put on his hat and left the study.
He shook his head as he headed down the hall. It was one thing to let Sadie Cooke get him a mail-order bride, but he had no idea she’d be bringing one all the way from across the sea! And what good was a woman if she didn’t know how to cook, clean and sew? What else was he going to do with her?
August stopped up short as he got to the front door and smiled. Hmmm, there was something Miss Red could do for him ... but simply keeping his bed warm, among other things, did not a good wife make. Besides, he doubted that with her attitude she’d be much interested it that, either. He opened the door and marched out onto the front porch.
“Leaving so soon, Mr. Bennett?”
August turned to find Miss Red sitting on the porch swing, staring at him. She seemed fully recovered from her ordeal, and gazed at him with a calm he’d not expected. “Good evening,” he said as he removed his hat. “Feeling better?”
“Quite.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes downcast.
“For what? Getting rid of a little spider?”
“No – for not laughing at us.”
August swallowed as guilt assailed him. Hadn’t he been doing just that? Not to her face, of course, but still ... “Oh, ah ... don’t mention it.”
She looked at him. “You think we’re silly, don’t you? That we don’t belong here.”
“I didn’t say that.”
> “No?”
“Well, I ... I didn’t say it ...” He reluctantly met her gaze. “... to you.”
“Indeed. But you have said it. I would have, were I in your place.”
He walked to where she sat, gripping his hat brim nervously. “I understand it must be hard being in a strange country, especially here out West.”
“Mr. Bennett, my sisters and I have endured more than you can imagine simply getting here. The incident earlier this afternoon ... well, let us just say it was the ‘final straw’ – I believe that is the term you Americans use?”
“Yes,” he said and sat next to her. The swing moved with his weight, and he steadied it with one foot. She looked at him, and he noticed the delicateness of her features, her creamy skin and tired hazel eyes. All three sisters had the same eyes, even though their hair color varied. “We have a lot of different sayings. I’ll have to teach them to you.”
She raised her brow at that. Good grief, what was he thinking? He was talking like they were going to ...
“Such as?” she asked.
“W-what?” he said as he gaped at her. Run, August! She’s not right for you! This will never work!
“What kind of sayings can you teach me?”
“Oh ... uh ...” He began to fidget. “Well ... sayings like, it takes a man – or woman, as is the case here – with gravel in her gizzard to go up against a spider the size of Texas.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
The action shocked him, but it also bolstered his courage. “Or how about, to face a spider that big, ya gotta know how to die standin’ up!”
“Oh my goodness!” she giggled. “You Americans do have a way with words.”
“I’ve got some better ones, ah ... let me think ... you ladies sure had that spider buffaloed into thinking you weren’t afraid of it!”
“Buffaloed?”
“Means to fool it.”
“Ah, I see. My, my, Mr. Bennett, but you are a wealth of knowledge. Tell me, how long have you lived here in Clear Creek?”
He sat back on the bench, causing it to swing again, and so used his foot to keep the motion going. “Just over three years now. I got hired out of Oregon City by Cyrus Van Cleet to run his supply wagons back and forth when he was building his hotel.”