The wide-eyed astonishment on Maggie’s face was a thing to remember—always. Jackson squeezed her hand as they waited for the sheriff to open the cell.
The keys jangled as the sheriff did just that.
When Jackson stood beside Maggie on the other side of the bars, he faced the sheriff and offered his hand. “Thank you.”
Sheriff Baniff shook his hand. “I meant what I said. This town can’t afford to lose you.”
At his side, Maggie took his arm. His chest swelled, his heart full of relief and joy.
“Right after the mayor learned about Miss McCary’s part with the tonic, you showed up to pay into the fund. If you haven’t noticed, our mayor likes control. He was hard-nosed about it. It probably had something to do with the fact that Steve Putnam put up a whopping amount of cash to keep another McCary on as cook for his men.”
“Then I guess my amount didn’t add up much compared to his.”
Sheriff Baniff grinned. “Seemed to me if Melbourne accepted Steve’s money, he couldn’t pick and choose and not accept yours.”
“You mean you did try to donate to the bride fund?” Maggie asked. Her tone held wonder.
“I told you I’d try. I didn’t want you to go,” Jackson admitted.
She looked at him as if he were some sort of hero.
The sheriff cleared his throat. “There’s something you should know, Miller. Miss McCary might have sneaked away to see her sister, but she never got there. She had turned around and was heading back to town when I caught up to her out at the crossroads.”
It was Jackson’s turn to be surprised. He had made up his mind it didn’t matter, but knowing she’d chosen to come back, chosen to face whatever waited for her, meant a heck of a lot to him. He couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He’d been right. She had definitely chosen him.
“Guess I don’t have to worry about the two of you skipping town?” the sheriff asked.
“No, sir,” they both said in unison, and then smiled at each other.
“And I’ll see you on Saturday, two p.m. sharp for your wedding?” the sheriff asked as he walked them to the door.
Jackson took Maggie’s hand. “Yes.”
They stepped outside.
* * *
“Maggie! Maggie!”
Was that Mary? Mary! Maggie broke away from Jackson and rushed to the edge of the boardwalk. In a thunder of hooves that matched Maggie’s heartbeat, Mary galloped her mount down the main street of Oak Grove and reined to a stop in front of the sheriff’s office. Steve Putnam was right behind her on a larger horse.
“Mary!” she cried. “You came!”
Jackson helped Mary down from her horse. Immediately she ran to Maggie and threw her arms around her, hugging her tight.
“When I learned you were in jail, I had to come. Tell me it isn’t true! The mayor cannot send you back to Ohio!” Tears ran down her cheeks as she stepped back, yet still held Maggie’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “I won’t let him send you away.”
Steve Putnam came up behind her and put his hands on Mary’s shoulders. “We won’t let him send you away,” he said fiercely.
Maggie pulled away from her sister’s grasp, looking from one to the other. What was going on? Something was there between them. “I’m not going anywhere. Mayor Melbourne dropped the charges, thanks to my friends here in town and—” she glanced at Jackson “—Mr. Miller here.”
Mr. Putnam stepped up on the boardwalk and shook Jackson’s hand. “Good work. How did you do it?”
“Guess that’s for Maggie to say.”
Her chest swelled with a mix of emotions. Loving him. Loving Mary. She was grateful that Jackson hadn’t just blurted out their engagement. He knew this would be hard for her. He understood that she hated to disappoint her sister but it was on her to give Mary the news that she would be staying in Oak Grove.
The steady, patient love shining in Jackson’s beautiful green eyes infused her with courage. She reached for his hand, grasped it, and then turned back to her sister. “Mary? Mr. Putnam? I’d like you to be the first to know—after the sheriff and Mayor, that is—Jackson and I are going to be married.”
Mary gasped. “Why? Did they make you do this? Are they forcing you?” Then she focused on Maggie’s hand holding Jackson’s. “Or...”
Maggie smiled softly. “I love him. I want to stay. I don’t want to run ever again. I’m...” Her eyes burned with tears. “I’m sorry if that isn’t what you wanted to hear. I have the money from the tonic for you. I don’t want it. I’m through selling it. And I’m through with leaving.”
Mary moved forward again and wrapped her arms around her for a quick hug. “Oh, Maggie! I am through with the tonic also. Steve doesn’t want it around, and...since I’m going to be staying out at the ranch I want to abide by his wishes. I never want to run again either.”
Maggie was confused. “You’re staying? But I thought that—”
Mary struggled to contain her smile and then completely gave up. “I’m getting married too.”
Maggie stopped breathing. She looked from Mary to Mr. Putnam, who wore a similar grin. Then her tears truly did spill over as her throat clogged up with emotion. Mary—a married woman! Relief and happiness bubbled up inside. She reached for her sister and hugged her tight.
“I was so worried about being separated from you. And now I find that I haven’t lost you at all. I’ve gained a husband and a brother!”
Mary giggled. “Me too.”
Maggie sighed when Jackson gripped her hand firmly. “We will be together,” she said. “We will all be together!”
Mary grinned impishly, her blue eyes shining with love for the man at her side. “Well—close enough to visit. Often.”
The four of them enjoyed a celebratory meal at Austin’s restaurant and a visit to Mayor Melbourne. He took the news that Steve and Mary would also be wed at the church on Saturday by throwing up his hands, muttering a questionable expletive and ordering them out of his office.
Maggie watched as Mary and Steve rode out of town, disappearing around the corner of the livery. She supposed she should go back to the hotel. Word had spread rapidly among the other brides when she and her sister showed up at the restaurant. They were all waiting to hear what had happened.
Beside her, Jackson squeezed her hand. “I haven’t had a moment alone with you. Will you go to the river with me?”
She breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. She didn’t want to leave him, even though it was just for a little while, just until Saturday.
The river was perfect. It’s where everything had changed. They didn’t speak as they walked. She was content simply to be near him, to feel the strength of his presence at her side. A warm glow filled her. He would always be at her side. Husband and wife. She could barely contain her happiness.
When they arrived at their spot he spun her into his arms. “This is where I fell in love with you, Maggie McCary.”
She still found it hard to believe. “How could you? I was such a nuisance.”
“A beautiful nuisance. I didn’t realize I was lonely until you came into my life. I didn’t realize there was more than my work. But then you showed up and completely upended everything.”
She had to be sure he held no regrets. “And that was a good thing?”
“More than you know.” His dark brow furrowed. “I know that you are used to being on the move, being with your sister, moving to a different home every few months. I don’t expect this will be an easy adjustment for you.”
She raised his hand and held it against her chest, making her pledge. “I love it here. I love the people. I love the other brides. I love the wide-open prairie.”
“And the river? Don’t forget the river.”
She smiled and for a moment watched the
dandelion seeds float through the air and land on the shimmering surface of the water. “That too. It’s the river that brought us together. But more than any of those things, I love you. Wherever you are, is my home.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently to his, sealing her pledge.
He slid his hand behind her neck, nuzzling, and then kissing her beneath her ear. “Ah, Maggie. It’s going to be hard to wait until Saturday.”
“For me, as well,” she murmured, as tingles raced down to her fingertips.
He sighed against her skin. “You are a lot of trouble, Maggie McCary.”
She smiled, her heart overflowing with joy. “Indeed.”
Epilogue
OAK GROVE GAZETTE
Special Edition
The first wedding by the Oak Grove Betterment Committee commenced on Saturday, June 15th, 1878, at the Oak Grove Community Church.
The ceremony was officiated by the new preacher in town, Conner Flaherty, and began with the ringing of the new bell for the first time in the bell tower, compliments of one of the grooms, Jackson Miller.
Five brides, their young faces glowing, marched one at a time down the aisle toward their respective grooms, who stood at the front of the church looking peacock-proud in their Sunday best.
Sadie Greenberg looked sweet in a light blue dress trimmed with crocheted white flowers as she stood beside Rollie Austin and his two young boys. Anna Camp wore a pale yellow dress with ribbons in her hair and couldn’t take her eyes off Wayne Stevens, the depot agent. Miss Rebecca Simpson wore white taffeta with layers of lace and carried a matching fan as she said her vows to banker Micah Swift.
It was the McCarys, Mary and Maggie, who captivated the entire assemblage, wearing identical white dresses with white eyelet trim and deep blue piping. To the concern of the mayor, they both arrived stylishly late, with the excuse that they had to gather wildflowers for all the brides.
Their respective grooms, Steve Putnam and Jackson Miller, did not seem upset at the twenty-minute delay in the ceremony, allowing that both women tended to be a bit headstrong in their pursuits.
After the ceremony a reception was held in the meadow. Mrs. Putnam and Mrs. Miller delighted their guests—particularly one Angus O’Leary—with a lusty rendition of “The Star of the County Down.”
A good time was had by all.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story you won’t want to miss
these great full-length reads
from Kathryn Albright:
THE REBEL AND THE LADY
TEXAS WEDDING FOR THEIR BABY’S SAKE
THE GUNSLINGER AND THE HEIRESS
FAMILIAR STRANGER IN CLEAR SPRINGS
CHRISTMAS KISS FROM THE SHERIFF
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE DEBUTANTE’S DARING PROPOSAL by Annie Burrows.
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The Debutante’s Daring Proposal
by Annie Burrows
Chapter One
Meet me at our place.
G.
The Earl of Ashenden crumpled the note in his long slender fingers, his nostrils flaring with distaste.
Meet me at our place, indeed.
No signature. No polite salutation. After all these years of silence, just five words and her initial.
She hadn’t even bothered to state a time. Not that there was any need. If they were to meet, it would be when they’d always met, at first light, before anyone else was about.
If they were to meet? Good God, the woman had only to crook her finger and he was actually contemplating trotting along to see what it was she wanted.
He flung the note into the fire, braced his arm on the mantel and watched with satisfaction as the flames devoured her summons.
Did she really think he’d respond to a missive like that? After she’d turned her back on him when he’d needed her the most? Tossed aside their friendship without a second thought? And then greeted his return to England with an indifference that hadn’t wavered in all the years since?
And yet...
He braced one booted foot on the fender stool. If he didn’t go, he’d always wonder what could have made her break through that wall of silence and reach out to him.
Which was probably why her note had been so brief. He ground his teeth. She knew him too well. Knew that its cryptic nature would rouse his curiosity to such a pitch that he’d find it hard to rest until he’d discovered exactly what lay behind it.
He wouldn’t put it past her to presume that he’d feel guilty, too, if he ignored her note. Because she’d remember the promise he’d made: if ever she needed help, he would give it. Not that she’d actually stated she was in need of help. No, she’d been too cunning for that. She’d merely teased him with five words that could imply anything.
Edmund bent to take the poker from the stand and slashed it through the charred sheet of paper, scattering its ashes across the hot coals until there were no visible remnants.
But it didn’t make him feel any better. On the contrary, it only reminded him that ash was all that was left of a friendship that had burned so brightly for him, he’d believed he’d be able to warm himself at it his whole life.
He stared into the flames, remembering. How she used to pull faces at him over the top of the pew, from her side of church, once the dullness of the sermon had put most of the adults in the congregation to sleep. How she’d walked three paces behind his mother, mimicking the way she stalked down the aisle with her nose in the air.
How she’d rubbed her ear the day Blundell had clouted her for trespassing on to the Ashenden estate, but refused to leave until she’d found her dog, which had wriggled through a boundary hedge in pursuit of a rabbit. How she’d then charmed the gruff gamekeeper into letting her join in his fishing lesson. And subsequently returned the next day. And the one after. How she’d dared him to climb every tree on the estate. Demanded he teach her to fence and box and—
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he recalled her fury at the way his gangly arms always kept him out of reach of her fists. The wild way she’d swing at him after every time he got in a blow—until she’d learned to keep up her guard. After that, though she’d still never been able to land a punch on him, he’d not been able to break through her defence.
His smile faded. He turned his back on the fire. The
uncomfortable truth was that the only good memories he had, from his childhood, centred on Georgiana. She hadn’t just been his best friend. She’d been his only friend. His mother hadn’t wanted him mixing with children from the village. Nor had she thought him strong enough to send away to school. And his father hadn’t cared enough to intervene. He very rarely visited Fontenay Court and when he did, he’d seldom done more than cast a jaded eye over his only surviving child, and perhaps taken a pinch of snuff, before ‘toddling off’ back to London, or the races, or whatever house party would provide him with the most ‘sport’.
Edmund went to the desk, sat down and laced his fingers together on the blotter as his memories carried him back to the winter he’d almost died. Or so his mother had always maintained. She’d kept him not only indoors, but in bed for what had felt like months on end. Even when spring sunshine had started to lengthen the days, he hadn’t been permitted out of that room. She’d come to inspect him every morning, wrung her hands and then, like as not, launched into one of her diatribes against his father.
‘You’d think he’d care that his heir is wasting away—but, no! Too lazy even to bother to reply to any of my letters, let alone actually tear himself away from his latest lover.’
A shuddering breath escaped him. His father hadn’t cared enough to visit him, even when his mother had written to inform him his only son and heir was at death’s door. But he couldn’t say that his mother’s obsession with keeping him alive at all costs stemmed from maternal love. She just couldn’t bear the thought of having to do her duty by a man she’d come to heartily detest. She’d blurted out that little gem whilst in the throes of yet another rant about his father’s failings, apparently forgetting that her audience was a product of doing that very distasteful duty.
Nobody had cared about him, not really him, rather what he represented.
Except Georgiana.
She’d been the only one to care enough to flout his mother’s embargo on visitors. And she’d done it by climbing up the drainpipe at the corner of the house and inching along the crumbling brickwork to his window.
Mail-Order Brides of Oak Grove Page 24