The Springtime Mail Order Bride

by Kit Morgan

  He looked down at her and sneered. “She has no choice if she knows what’s good for her. Now where is she?”

  “Her husband isn’t going to let her go without a fight.”

  He stared at her. “You don’t like my niece, do you?”

  “Whatever makes you say that?”

  “I’ve travelled a long way to get here, and the trip has me talking too much already, yet here you stand. I almost thought I’d have to grab you to keep you from running to warn her.”

  “Warn her about what? You? Trust me, mister, if you’ve come to take her away, you go right ahead, but be sure you leave her dear, darling husband in one piece when you do.”

  He raised a brow at that. “I see. So you fancy him do you? Well then, perhaps you and I could come to an agreement and help each other out.”

  Olivia smiled. “Perhaps.”

  He glanced around again. “Where can we talk, I don’t want Samantha to see me. I’d rather my visit be a surprise.”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh it will be, you just wait.” With that, she steered him toward her family’s camp. This day just went from bad to wonderful in the blink of an eye, and Olivia was going to be sure to take full advantage of it.

  * * *

  Samijo lay in the crook of Arlan’s arm, her head against his chest as she curled against him. She was astounded - no … not the right word. Awed? Yes, there was that, but it still wasn’t a big enough word to described what they’d just shared as husband and wife. Fascinated? Amazed? Astonished? Flabbergasted even? Still not the right words …

  “Hey there darlin’,” Arlan whispered, his eyes closed. “You awake?”

  She nodded, as it was all she could offer him. He’d rendered her speechless over an hour ago, and she still hadn’t properly recovered from his declarations of love for her from not only his body, but his words as well. But she hadn’t told him she loved him in return. Not yet anyway, and figured it could wait. She got her message across well enough in her own way, even without the words. She smiled at the thought and snuggled closer. He turned, kissed her on the forehead, and together, they slipped into blissful slumber.

  After several hours, and another bout of Arlan declaring he loved her, they got up, dressed, and went to fetch the basket of goodies Ma had given them earlier. Now Samijo understood what it was for, she was famished and couldn’t wait to see what was inside.

  Arlan set it on the table and tossed back the folded cloth his mother put over the contents. “Let’s see, we have …” he waggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled in response. “Biscuits!” He removed them with a flourish. “And it looks like … jam!” He took the small jar out and placed it on the table. “And …” he stuck his head into the basket. “I can’t tell, it’s too dark in here.” Samijo was giggling uncontrollably at this point as Arlan made growling sounds then pulled his head out, an egg in his mouth. She burst into laughter, pointed at the sight, and snorted. Tears formed in her eyes and it was becoming hard to breathe.

  Arlan spit the egg out of his mouth and caught it with his hand. “This one is mine,” he told her as she tried to calm herself down. He set it on the table, and took her in his arms. “Happy, Mrs. Weaver?”

  She calmed at the look he was giving her. “Yes, very.” She reached up and touched his cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. His arms held her tightly against him in response, and she felt herself become lost again. “Arlan…”

  “What?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Nothing …”

  He pulled away and laughed. “Ma told me once that love makes a person silly. I guess this means you love me?”

  She gave him a contented look and smiled. Why she didn’t tell him she loved him she didn’t know. She knew she felt love for him, that much was certain. But why wouldn’t the words come? They were there on the tip of her tongue, yet, it was as if something held her back from saying them. She looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze.

  “What’s the matter, darlin’?”

  “Nothing, let’s eat.”

  He hooked a finger under her chin and pulled her face up to his. “No, something’s the matter. What is it?”

  “I …”

  Knock, knock, knock …

  Arlan’s shoulders slumped. “Oh good Lord, not again.”

  Samijo’s eyes flicked to the door. “Who is it now?”

  Arlan set her from him, and went to the door. “I don’t know, but I’m getting rid of them!” He threw the door open.

  Calvin stood there, a sheepish look on his face, holding another basket. “Ma sent supper. Enjoy.” He turned on his boot heel, jumped from the porch and sprinted for the field. Arlan didn’t even have time to tell him thank you.

  “Well, he didn’t stay long,” Samijo commented.

  Arlan turned and smiled. “Ma must’ve figured we’d need a lot of time to make up after our little spat at breakfast.”

  “She was right,” Samijo added as she leaned against him with a smile.

  “Well then, Mrs. Weaver. What say we sit down to supper?”

  So they sat and unloaded the basket. It had been a long day of firsts. Their first fight, first kiss, first … well … let’s just stick with declarations of love, shall we? And now, their first supper together in their cozy little cabin as a husband and wife in love.

  Yet Samijo still wondered; if she felt love for this man, why could she not declare it to him with the words themselves?

  * * *

  The next day they emerged from the cabin late morning, gushing with happiness. Samijo made her husband breakfast with some of the left over biscuits from the baskets then made fresh eggs, bacon, and potatoes. Arlan ate with gusto, and when finished, told her he wanted to show her the back fields to be plowed along with the rest of the farm. She was excited to see them, and hurried to finish the breakfast dishes while he busied himself bringing in some wood for the stove. When they did finally leave, they noticed things at the farm were awfully quiet as they walked through the orchard, and Arlan even stopped at one point, looked around himself, and listened.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Samijo.

  “I don’t know. Benjamin should be chopping wood about now, but I don’t hear anything.”

  “Maybe they had extra chores to do on account you were … ah … busy yesterday.”

  He smiled down at her as they started off again. “You’re probably right. Mighty nice of them, I’ll have to do something nice in return.”

  She smiled and took his hand as they continued on their way. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Easter’s coming, I think they’d enjoy a couple of days in town, but I’m not sure we have the funds to cover two nights at the hotel.”

  “Can’t you stay with your aunt and uncle at the mercantile?”

  He looked down at her, his face in shock. “Absolutely not. My aunt couldn’t take it for one, and my cousin Matthew would sooner shoot himself than be in the same house with the twins for two days.”

  She laughed. “They aren’t that bad, at least … I …”

  “C’mon, don’t be lying to me now. You’ve seen them in action.”

  “Yes, but they’ve been behaving themselves lately.”

  “It’s only a matter of time, darlin’. Trust me.”

  She laughed as they crossed the yard to the farmhouse, and went inside. “Ma?” she called as they entered the kitchen. No answer. She looked up at Arlan who stood stock still, listening.

  “Stay here,” he told her, before he went to a cupboard, reached to the back of it, and pulled out a gun.

  “Arlan, you don’t think something’s happened do you?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.”

  “Arlan,” she said as she grabbed his arm. He looked down at her and her heart felt about to burst. “Be careful.”

  He nodded, and then left her to search the house. She paced as she often di
d when nervous or upset, stopping now and then to listen. But the only sound to greet her ears was the creak of the floor upstairs as Arlan went from room to room looking for his mother. Then another sound caught her attention, and she stilled herself again in order to listen. It was an odd sound, almost like someone humming, and she went to the hallway to investigate. Maybe Ma was in her sewing room and Arlan hadn’t searched there yet.

  “Gotcha!”

  Samijo tried to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth before she could make a sound, and she was slammed against a man’s chest, a gun to her head. Whoever it was backed into the kitchen and forced her into a chair.

  “Make a sound and I’ll shoot ya dead, understand?”

  She nodded, and he slowly removed his hand then quickly gagged her. He then pulled her hands behind her back and lashed her wrists together. She sat, terrified and blind, her assailant’s identity unknown to her. Was it the outlaw she heard talk of? Or someone else? And where was Arlan? Oh good Lord, please help me!

  “Now,” the intruder began. “Let’s find out how much you’re worth little lady.” He stepped in front of her to examine his catch and grinned.

  Samijo took one look at him, screamed into the gag, and swooned.

  Twelve

  Arlan crept down the hall to his mother’s room, and knocked. No answer. He pushed opened the door and peeked inside, then walked in and put a hand on his hip. “Where is everybody?” He turned to go back into the hall, when something out in the yard caught his eye. A wagon was pulling up to the house, and he went to the window to see who it was. “What the?” Arlan began as he looked down at the man in the wagon. It was the preacher from Nowhere that married him and Samijo. “What’s he doing here?”

  Arlan stepped away from the window, stuck the gun into his belt, and went downstairs to the front door. He opened it just as the preacher was climbing down from the wagon. “Hello there, Mr. Weaver!” the preacher called. He walked to the porch and tipped his hat. “How’s married life treating you?”

  Arlan glanced around. “Fine. What are you doing here?”

  “Come to check on the newlyweds being as how you weren’t sure you’d make it to town for Easter services. Your uncle also wanted me to pick up the Easter hats he said your ma would have ready. Since I was coming to have a visit with your family, I offered to pick them up, then head back tomorrow if that’s all right with you.”

  “Certainly, you know you’re welcome to stay.”

  The preacher stepped onto the porch. “Where’s your ma? I’d sure like to look at her hats and get first pick for Mabel for Easter. You know how popular your Ma’s hats are this time of year.”

  “Of course,” Arlan said as he continued to look around.

  “Something wrong, son?”

  “Don’t know yet. Samijo’s out in the kitchen if you want to go pay her a visit. I’m going to the barn for a moment. I need to find my brothers.”

  Without another word, he left the preacher standing on the porch, and made his way to the barn. He felt Samijo would be safe enough as the house was empty and the town preacher was no trouble. Besides, he still had a mystery to solve. Where could the rest of his family be? Had they gone to pay the Bridgers a visit? That would explain things, but to find out he had to see if the wagon was gone. Knowing Ma, she’d have taken them some supplies to see them through the week, if they planned to stay that long. They had to be running low by now, and would either have to leave, or get by on hunting or fishing up their meals.

  Arlan approached the barn doors but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He ducked inside. “Ma? Benjamin?” But the only answer Arlan got was the board that smacked him upside the head.

  * * *

  “Ohhhhhh,” Arlan moaned as he regained consciousness. “What happened?”

  “You walked into a big piece of wood.” The voice was Benjamin’s.

  Arlan slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred, then closed them tight. “What?”

  “It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if that fella hadn’t been attached at the other end.” Calvin’s voice this time.

  Arlan tried again to open his eyes. When he did he saw straw. “Good Lord, what happened?” He struggled to sit up. He’d been bound hand and foot and laid on a pile of straw near the back of the barn. His brothers sat on the ground near him, tied to a couple of posts. Benjamin and Calvin were lashed to one, while a gagged Daniel was roped to another. “Where’s Ma?”

  “The fella who did this took her to your place,” Benjamin explained. “He’s looking for Samijo. He’ll be back any minute. You’ve been out awhile.”

  Arlan struggled with his bonds. “What does he want with my wife?”

  “We don’t know,” Benjamin answered, but he sure was mad when he didn’t find her up at the house after he corralled us and forced us in here.”

  Arlan looked them all over. “One man did all this?”

  “He got to Ma first,” Calvin said, his head hung low.

  Arlan understood. One scoundrel would be no match for the Weaver men, unless he had leverage, and their mother would be plenty. “How come Daniel’s gagged?”

  Benjamin glanced to the youngest. “On account he made so much noise. Him and Ma both.” He sighed heavily. “We’re sorry Arlan, but he got the drop on us.”

  “The important thing is we get out of here. Can you get loose?”

  “Don’t ya think we’ve tried?” Calvin quipped. “That man had us tie each other up, then told us how to knot the rope. I’ve never run across such knots.”

  “He even made Ma tie Daniel up and ya know what a good job she can do,” added Benjamin. If there was one thing their mother could do well, it was make sure what she tied was secure. After all her years of millinery work and sewing, she could wrap up anything.

  The barn door swung open, and a well-dressed man shoved their mother stumbling into the barn. “You don’t have to push you side-winder!” she spat.

  “Quiet you,” he snarled, and then looked at Arlan. “Where is she?”

  “Where’s who?” he answered, playing dumb. Of course, he was the only one who knew where Samijo was, and wanted to keep it that way. He just prayed she and the preacher didn’t wander out to the barn. If only he had some way to warn her.

  “She’s your wife, isn’t she? One would think you’d know where she is.”

  Arlan shrugged. “She comes and goes as she pleases, I don’t keep tabs on the woman all day.”

  The man put a gun to their mother’s head. “I’ll ask you just one more time, where is Samantha Carter?”

  “Samantha Weaver,” Ma corrected.

  The man shoved the gun into her cheek. “Soon to be Samantha Burr.”

  “What did you say?” Arlan hissed.

  “You heard me,” the man said.

  “What are you talking about?” Ma demanded, ignoring the gun in her face. “She’s married to Arlan!”

  “Not for long,” the man chuckled. Arlan’s brother’s eyes widened, and they struggled against their bonds with renewed vigor. The man laughed and shoved Ma against a post, and tied her to it. That done he again aimed the gun at her head. “Now, I’ll ask you one more time. Where is Samantha?”

  Arlan’s eyes narrowed to slits as he looked from the man, to his mother, and back again. “I don’t know.”

  The stranger cocked the gun. “Last chance. Where is she?”

  Arlan’s eyes widened a fraction, and it took the man a second to figure out someone was behind him. He spun and aimed his gun straight into the face of the preacher, who had yet another gun aimed at the back of his head. “Who are you?” the two gunmen asked each other in unison.

  The preacher stood there, a gun on either side of his head, with his hands up. “Gentlemen, can’t we talk this over like civilized …

  “Shut up!” the men shouted, again in unison.

  The preacher cringed and closed his eyes.

  The newcomer looked the stranger up and down and laughed. “Look at them fancy cloth
es! Woo wee! I think those would fit me.”

  “Touch this suit and I’ll kill you! Do you realize how much this cost?”

  “I don’t care how much it cost, I care about how warm it is. It’s still mighty chilly out at night.”

  “Gentlemen,” the preacher tried again. “About your guns …”

  “Quiet you,” the newcomer said. He began to circle the preacher to get a closer look at the other man’s jacket, who in turn started to walk around the preacher as well. Thus there they were, circling the town preacher, each with a gun pointed at his head, while they faced off with one another.

  “What happened to your eye?” the well-dressed man spat as he took in the other’s eye patch. “Someone shoot it out?”

  “You wouldn’t be talkin’ that way to me mister if’n you knew who you were talkin’ to.”

  “Oh do tell, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

  The Weavers all watched in fascination as the two continued to circle the preacher, who at this point had both his eyes closed again.

  “They call me Red Ned, and for good reason.”

  “Red Ned?” the other man drawled. “Sounds like a bad name out of a story book.”

  Benjamin’s mouth dropped open. “Red Ned?”

  “That’s right sonny boy, and I’d stay quiet if I were you.” In the blink of an eye he took aim and fired off a shot at the other man, shooting his gun clean out of his hand.

  He stared at Red Ned in shock, before he scrunched his face up in rage. “How dare you shoot that gun at me!”

  Red Ned looked taken aback for only a moment, before he yanked the preacher out of his way, and shoved him at his opponent. He then glanced around and plucked a coiled rope from a nail on a nearby post. “Tie that dandy up, preacher,” he demanded.

  The preacher gulped, and complied. Within moments the man had been tied next to Arlan. “Now, ain’t this cozy?” Red Ned laughed. “I haven’t had this much fun in months! And to think my gang ain’t here to enjoy it.”