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Mail-Order Brides of Oak Grove

Page 23

by Lauri Robinson


  He was such a good man and he had shut himself off for so long—because of Christine—because of his brother. Would he return to that place once she was gone? The thought troubled her. She had brought him joy for a time. She was sure of it. And she wanted to be the one to make him happy every morning, to wake up excited for the day ahead and all its possibilities. To see his smile, hear his laugh. She wanted to share the rainbow and the sunset. With him.

  If she left, that would never happen.

  The road blurred before her. She swiped her face. Her cheeks were wet. She was crying.

  She couldn’t go on. She loved him. She loved him with a fierceness that she’d never known before, a fierceness that wouldn’t burn out. Something deep inside told her so. The love she felt would endure. She would hold on to it and make it endure no matter what.

  It was time to choose and she chose him, come what may.

  She squared her shoulders. She had to go back.

  Reining the horse around, she started toward town. From this distance she could see the dusky lightening of the sky behind the church spire. A new day was coming and she would face it. It wouldn’t be easy. She did not care. She wasn’t marrying anyone but Jackson. Mary would have a fit, but they weren’t twins for nothing and she would count on that bond. In the end Mary would understand.

  “Aren’t you going the wrong way, Miss McCary?”

  She inhaled swiftly and pulled back on the reins, stopping her mount on the small rise of the road. Just beyond it, leaning heavily on his saddle horn, sat the sheriff.

  * * *

  “You can’t leave her in there,” Rebecca railed at the sheriff. She stood before his desk, brandishing her parasol like a sword. “I’ll have my fiancé see about this. He’s a very important man. Likely he pays your salary.”

  “Likely he does, Miss Simpson.” the sheriff said, looking up from his bowl of soup.

  At the beleaguered expression on his face, Maggie almost felt sorry for him. He was tired—and getting little help from the mayor now that most of the people in town had taken sides about the fact that they both were holding a woman in the jail like a common criminal.

  The news had spread through Oak Grove like a flash of lightning and nearly everyone in town had come to call to make their opinion known. Yesterday upon hearing the news and again just now, Sadie had marched across the street with the sheriff’s dinner, plunked it down in front of the man and berated him for keeping Maggie behind bars. Little timid Sadie! The soup was probably cold after her and now Rebecca’s tirades—a fact that gave Maggie a small degree of satisfaction.

  It seemed the women were incensed about her being in jail in the first place and the men wanted her out—particularly Brett Blackwell—so that they could court her. Even Abigail had stopped by to get her final interview right there at the jail! Never in Maggie’s life had she felt such support and camaraderie from others. She was grateful for it, and humbled.

  Sheriff Baniff glared at Rebecca. “Now you are the fourth woman in here this morning. I’d like to eat my dinner in peace if you don’t mind.”

  Rebecca ignored him and walked over to the cell.

  “Doc Graham jumped at the chance to take word to Mary about you being in here. He’s been keeping an eye on one of the injured cowboys there. By his actions, I think he also has been keeping an eye on your sister. He left an hour ago for the Circle P.”

  Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I can’t stand the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to her.”

  Rebecca drew her brows together. “Why are they sending you all the way back to Bridgeport to serve out your sentence? It makes no sense.”

  “I’m to be a cautionary example.”

  “Well, it is ridiculous. All that for selling tonic without a permit?”

  “No. There is more to it than that. I refuse to honor the marriage contract.”

  “Oh. I see.” Rebecca’s eyes clouded over. “Is it because of that carpenter?”

  Maggie closed her eyes as the image of Jackson invaded her senses. He hadn’t come to see her. She had been here since yesterday and half the town had come—but not him. He must be embarrassed by her—or furious. She hadn’t allowed his help before and so now he’d quit offering it. She had no one to blame but herself.

  “Jackson knows where I am if he wants to see me.” She pressed her palm to her brow, irritable and aching all in one miserable heap. “I’m facing things, aren’t I? I will serve out my sentence. I will make it right.”

  Rebecca’s gaze softened. “You do care about him, don’t you?”

  “It hardly matters.” Her heart was numb. Jackson wouldn’t want a criminal as a wife. He was all that was good in the world. And she was not.

  “You don’t belong in here,” Rebecca stated flatly. “A fine would suffice. And perhaps an apology.”

  She recognized the understanding in her friend’s eyes. Rebecca was her friend the same as Sadie and Anna. They had come a long way in the past few weeks. Each had been by to see her and tell her they were on her side. “Thank you,” she murmured, and reached through the bars for Rebecca’s hand, squeezing her fingers.

  Rebecca turned back to the sheriff. “Enjoy your soup. You’ll be hearing from my fiancé as soon as he can break from his business at the bank.” She threw an encouraging wink at Maggie before sweeping through the open door of the jail.

  Maggie pushed away from the bars and sat back down on her cot. She hadn’t anticipated that the mayor would send her back to Bridgeport. She hadn’t thought out anything, except that she loved Jackson and couldn’t leave him. Yet it had all came to naught. They would send her away. And after all that had happened, Jackson would forget all about her.

  * * *

  “Are you going to keep moping around this here mortuary or are you gonna head on over to the jail and let that lassie know you care for her?” Angus held on to the bowl of his pipe and poked the stem at Jackson’s chest.

  “I figured I’d go fishing,” Jackson said irritably. He’d been pestered enough—by the other brides and now by Angus. Things were getting downright out of control. It was plain as could be that Maggie had decided on her own to run. She had given her word that she would abide by the terms that the sheriff and mayor had stated, and then she’d turned right around and gone back on it and run off. If the sheriff hadn’t arrested her, she and Mary would be over the state line by now.

  He returned to his task, applying the walnut stain sparingly over the top of the table with a wadded-up rag and trying, unsuccessfully, to rid his mind of the image of Maggie sitting in the jail.

  “I walked over to the hotel four times, prepared to do what I could to help her,” he mumbled. “Four times! And she wouldn’t open the door to me. Guess that says things loud and clear.”

  Angus took a draw on his pipe. “She’s refusing to marry. Said she’d pay the penalty. The sheriff and mayor are fixing to put her on the train back to Bridgeport come morning.”

  He straightened. He hadn’t heard that before. “What for?”

  “What for? To serve out her original sentence and to make an example of her. That’s what for. They don’t want the same thing to happen with any of the other brides that decide to come this way.”

  “They aren’t forcing her to marry one of the men who donated?”

  Angus’s eyes twinkled. “Well, now. She hasn’t exactly endeared herself to any of them when they’ve called on her at the jail.”

  His mouth twitched as he thought what that might entail. “She does like to have her own way.”

  “That she does.”

  The fact that Maggie was in jail had eaten at him ever since he’d learned of it. Maggie, who found beauty in everything, who sang to the river, who loved her freedom. What would being locked in a cell do to someone like her? Ruin her? Destroy the
part in her that was innocent?

  It wasn’t right. She had tried to do the honorable thing when she quit selling the tonic. Maybe being cooped up in that hotel room had gotten to her. If that were the case—being in that cell would be worse. The more he thought about it, the more worried he got and the more he knew that he couldn’t let her go without seeing her one last time.

  Angus watched him closely.

  Jackson dropped the rag into a bucket and wiped his hands. “I’ll go. If for nothing more than to say goodbye.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The hot, muggy air weighed her down as she sat on the cot, her back supported against the cool iron of the bars. Sweat trickled down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. The sound of birds twittering and whistling in the meadow floated through the open doorway.

  Being trapped in the cell was starting to inconvenience her in the worst way. At first she had focused on what she would tell Jackson, how she would explain. That had kept her mind occupied. Then, when he didn’t arrive, she tried to concentrate on her sister. To counter the feeling of panic that slowly grew inside her chest at being confined, she paced the length of her cell, trying to remember all the songs she knew and sing them softly. Then she tried to sing them backward.

  Her scalp at the nape of her neck tingled.

  “You’ve got company, Miss McCary.”

  She glanced over to the doorway. Jackson stood there, his cap in his hands, watching her.

  He looked worn, tired and very, very dear. He hadn’t shaved or combed his hair. Like always, his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

  He nodded. “Miss McCary.”

  So they were back to that, were they? “Mr. Miller.” She heard the tremor in her voice, the hesitation.

  He walked up to the cell. “How are you?”

  Those beautiful green eyes held her captive, as always saying more than his words. She had to make him understand how she felt, but he seemed so distant, so polite. “I’m well,” she answered cautiously.

  He stepped closer and gripped the bars, squaring off at her. “You ran,” he said, his voice low and accusing. “You didn’t believe in me. In us. You just ran.

  Honesty came with a price, she realized. It was hard. Sometimes brutal. But she couldn’t ask for his love if she wasn’t honest. She had to admit it, even though she was sure he would leave. “Yes. I did.”

  Disappointment filled his face.

  She rose and went to the bars. “I was scared. Frightened. I needed to see Mary.”

  “It was more than that. You were packed. Leaving for good.” His gaze dipped to the carpetbag shoved against the wall. “Without a goodbye.”

  “I... It’s what I’ve always done. What my family has always done. We leave.”

  “Well, you did a poor job of it this time. You got caught.”

  She was desperate for him to understand. “We were never in one place very long. Sometimes it was because Da didn’t get a permit to sell the tonic. Sometimes it was because a doctor didn’t like the competition and brought the law down on us. Whenever there was the least sign of trouble, Da would simply pack us into the wagon and we’d move to another town. That’s why Mary and I left Bridgeport. There was a bit of trouble. So we signed the contract and got on the train.”

  “You were running?”

  She nodded. “With the sheriff pushing us. But it was different yesterday. I couldn’t go through with it. I came back. I’m ready to accept my punishment.”

  “Maggie,” he said flatly. “You came back only because the sheriff here dragged you back.”

  “No! That’s not so. I couldn’t leave you. I...I had to come back.”

  Distrust filled his eyes. “And you expect me to believe that?”

  She shook her head. Her heart was breaking, but she would see this through. “No. I know how this all looks. I understand...even if you won’t. It is too hard for you to accept after Christine and Paul betrayed you.” She held one of his hands with hers and felt his muscles tense. Afraid that he might bolt, she reached up and tenderly cupped his jaw. “But I love you, Jackson. I couldn’t leave. Please believe me.”

  Jackson stared down at the blue-eyed beauty before him. Her hand on his cheek was a hot brand, burning her deeper into his being. His skin tingled and for a moment he leaned into her caress, unwilling to draw away.

  Then he bolstered his resolve. Maggie had refused to see him for the three days she’d been at the hotel, and then she ran, as though his feelings didn’t matter. It had been like a fist to his gut when he’d heard. He both loved and hated her in the same breath. She made him ache. She made him hurt. And she made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt before.

  “Please forgive me,” she said softly. “They are taking me back to Bridgeport tomorrow, but if it were my choice I’d stay here. I’d never run again. I’d only go if you told me to. If...if you wanted me to.”

  It was no use. He let out a shuddering breath, his resolve to keep his distance crumbling. “That will never happen.”

  The wary hope that sprang in her eyes warmed him, and with it the last vestiges of his anger and hurt slid away. He snaked his arm through the bars and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “You are a lot of trouble, Maggie McCary.”

  She smiled—a forlorn, regretful smile. Tears pooled in her eyes. “I know.”

  “Will you marry me anyway?”

  “Of course I will!”

  He kissed her then. Sealing their words with his promise. “I’ll get the preacher.”

  The sheriff scraped back his chair and stood. “Now hold on, Miller. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Try and stop me. We’re getting married, right here, right now. If you want to prevent it, you will have to lock me up.” He tensed, and curled his fingers.

  The sheriff glanced down at Jackson’s fist and then looked back at his face. Then his gaze slid over to Maggie. “You are serious? Both of you?”

  “Dead serious.”

  A slow, speculative look crossed over his face. “That might take care of this entire mess.”

  Jackson relaxed his hand. “What are you talking about?”

  The sheriff grabbed his keys and unlocked the cell door. Before Maggie could step out, he took hold of Jackson’s shoulder and shoved him inside. Taken off guard, Jackson stumbled backward a few steps before regaining his footing. In that time, the cell door clanged shut. Baniff turned the key in the lock and a slow smile formed on his face. “That should do it.”

  Immediately, Maggie pitched into Jackson’s arms. Soft, desperate, sweet Maggie.

  He kissed her long and hard, right in front of Sheriff Baniff. He couldn’t care less that the man watched. He needed to hold her, to touch her and reassure her. Whatever came, they’d face it together. “I love you Maggie McCary,” he murmured against her ear.

  She drew back and looked deep into his eyes. “And I you.”

  “That is what you needed to tell me before getting jailed,” he said with a slight growl to his voice. He glanced over at the sheriff. “I don’t know what you are up to, but I appreciate this.”

  Jackson settled his arm around Maggie and sat with her on the cot. He wasn’t letting her go.

  * * *

  An hour later, Mayor Melbourne strode into the office. He stopped when he realized there was not one, but two prisoners.

  “Are you daft?” he yelled at the sheriff. “No man is going to offer for her if she’s locked up with Miller.”

  Jackson straightened. His chest was tight with what might happen in the next few minutes. The sheriff hadn’t said much since forcing him into the cell so Jackson had no idea what to expect. They both had been waiting on the appearance of Mayor Melbourne.

  “You said she is headed back to Ohio,” Sheriff Baniff said
, a bit of a challenge in his voice. “What can it hurt?”

  The mayor frowned. “That is only as a last resort.”

  “Oh. Then you were trying to force her hand?”

  “She needs to keep to the terms of her agreement,” the mayor said stubbornly. “Sending her back will cost us more money.” He reached into his inner vest pocket and withdrew what looked to be her contract and waved it in the air. “I have it right here.”

  “I think you are missing what’s important here. The entire principle of the Betterment Committee is to make Oak Grove a decent community for families. That means bringing new blood and business here. At the welcome picnic you said as much...and that you wanted the town to grow.”

  “Now hold on, Baniff. This isn’t your call...”

  “Maybe not. I agree that Miss McCary’s tonic business needs to stop, but she’s already complied with that. And she’s willing to marry—maybe not the man you would choose for her, but she’s figured out who she wants and it seems he’s willing to put up with her. In my presence, he’s just offered for her hand.” He drummed his fingers on his desk, letting his words sink in.

  “The way I see it, we can’t afford to lose Miller’s business. He has built half the town. Are we really going to repay one of our own this way? We need to do what we can to keep him here.”

  Jackson stood and gripped the bars. “My brother’s church is done. There is nothing holding me here. If Miss McCary marries another or goes back to Ohio, you can be sure that I’ll leave.”

  “And I’ll not marry another,” Maggie said, coming to his side.

  The mayor, his face set in a horrible frown, looked from the sheriff to Jackson, and then to Maggie.

  It seemed Maggie’s entire future, along with his own, waited on the mayor’s next words. When the official’s shoulders slumped, Jackson felt the first give in the tight band that had cinched his chest.

  The mayor held up the contract and slowly ripped the paper into pieces. “I expect to see you dressed and ready for a wedding on Saturday, Miss McCary. Let them out, Baniff.” The mayor strode from the office.

 

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