Mail Order Megan (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 11)

by Elissa Strati

  Well, perhaps she could start with the small stones, though. And she did. As soon as she had pulled enough away to have a small opening, she crouched down to see if she could actually view any of the action.

  ~~~

  Led by Randy, the four men had approached the mine, but dismounted well away from the clearing and, picketing their horses, crept up to check out the site. Off to the right they spotted Pete’s mare grazing.

  Randy studied the adit and gestured with his head for the others to follow him deeper into the cover.

  “I mentioned to you there’d been a cave-in but that rock in front has been moved.”

  “Well, his horse is here so he’s in the area. I just pray Megan is unharmed,” Ted murmured.

  “I thought I saw some movement up the cliff,” said Moses. Making eye contact with Steve, he tilted his head upward with a question in his eyes. Steve nodded, and the two of them crept back to scope out a way up where they could remain out of sight. But there was no way to approach the front without being in the open.

  From where they were, Ted and Randy had a good view of Moses and Steve’s ascent. Randy nudged Ted when he spotted a figure almost directly over the mine entrance. Suddenly a gun appeared in Ted’s hand. It would probably be useless at this distance he thought, but it might be a distraction, if needed.

  Like most men out west, Steve, Moses and Randy were each wearing gun belts. Generally the firearms were only necessary against wildlife—there were a lot of dangerous critters who resented man’s incursion into their wilderness. But Ted was sporting “country clothes,” à la Philadelphia, rather than the rough-woven or canvas trousers of most of the other men locally, and eschewed a gun belt. If you’d asked him, he might have laughed and said he didn’t want to spoil the drape of his clothes.

  But just because he didn’t display it, didn’t mean he didn’t carry protection within his neatly tailored clothes.

  So far the man at the top hadn’t noticed anything but he was alert. Suddenly he tilted his head. No, he hadn’t heard Moses or Steve, but the sounds of the remaining posse still tracking Pete’s horse. He looked right and left for additional cover—and that’s when he spied the movement off to the side. As he pivoted toward the closer threat, Ted raised his pistol, sighted, and fired. He saw the bullet strike rock somewhat below the man, but his goal of distraction had been achieved.

  Pete aimed at the sound and fired back. Another gun spoke from atop the rise and Pete fell back with a cry.

  Hearing the shots, the posse spurred on and arrived on the scene a few minutes later.

  ~~~

  The shooting had stopped, but she could still hear voices calling. If she could hear them, they could probably hear her if she called out. So she tried yelling out her husband's name.

  “Ted! Ted!”

  She heard a little bit of an echo, but no response. Now, she thought, might be the time for a womanly scream.

  Putting all of her day’s frustrations into it, she hollered out, and this echo resounded rather more strongly.

  Now she could hear Ted calling out to her: “Megan, Megan, where are you my darling?”

  “Ted, I'm in the cave,” she yelled.

  “I'm coming!” he responded.

  She could soon hear other voices as well.

  “We've got him, Mister Ted,” she heard Moses yell, and she could hear the sound of feet coming into the cave and just barely see some dust rising.

  Putting her mouth to the hole she yelled again: “I'm behind the rocks.”

  “Can you back away from them?” called out a new voice.

  “Alright!” she responded and proceeded to head back into the cave where she crouched down under what she hoped was a solid canopy. Megan could hear some grunting as the stone was shoved aside, and she covered her head as a few small rocks loosened by all the activity fell down upon her.

  Suddenly Ted was next to her and scooping her into his arms, raining kisses on to her face. She heard some cheers and felt Ted stiffen as he realized they had an audience. Nonetheless, he held her close and aided her out of the mine entrance.

  She was holding him tightly as well, but as he pulled her toward the horses, she stopped.

  “Wait, I think I may have found Tom. There is a body further in trapped under some rock.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – Tom McNeel

  Several of the men went back in carefully, relighting the lantern, and shortly there was a cry of “Found him!”

  Working carefully, they dislodged the largest stone and removed the rubble. It wasn’t long before the tarp-wrapped body was brought out.

  Beau walked over toward the Bristols, explaining, “He was wearing this around his neck,” as he handed Megan a pendant hanging from a silver chain. She gasped when she saw it, recognizing the other half of the broken heart that had been among Sonia's jewelry.

  “It looked as if he was trying to shore up some damaged timbers when one slipped.” Beau shook his head sadly. “It’s just so dangerous to try to work a mine alone.”

  Moses, standing nearby, also shook his head. His new wife, Flora, kept saying that to him, too.

  He had brought a few of the stones out and color was clearly visible, if you knew what you were looking at. And Moses certainly knew. After all, his mine was not that far from here—he was probably working the same vein. Maybe later he should talk with Randy about combining forces. He headed toward him to give him the stones he’d brought out.

  ~~~

  Pete, wounded and fairly well hogtied, was secured onto his horse with his hands in front of him so he could grab the saddle horn when needed, as they traversed the rough terrain back to town. Beau led that party so he could report to the sheriff. Steve had explained that Ted’s shot had distracted Pete long enough for Moses to act before Pete got off his own shot at them. Steve had a pretty good idea he would have been the target, as the two men had made eye contact just before Ted’s bullet nearly clipped Pete’s boots, and he was off-balance from climbing.

  Steve tied Tom’s carefully wrapped body to the back of his horse while Megan rode double with Ted, accompanied by Moses and Randy, until they got back to where they’d left the horse and buggy.

  The four men extricated the buggy from the saplings and hitched up the horse. Carefully lifting Megan onto the seat, Ted got up next to her and, placing his arm around her and tucking her into his shoulder, took up the reins.

  Their first stop was the newly built Sacred Heart Catholic Church where Father Rubio greeted them. His joyful visage turned dolorous as they arranged for a funeral mass the next day. At their next stop the undertaker assured them he could provide a sturdy casket and would ensure the body was at the church by morning. He explained to Megan that it was not unusual to work this quickly.

  “In this climate,” he said, “we tend to follow the Jewish practice of getting them buried by sundown when possible. Not so important in this case, of course.” He stopped himself abruptly, realizing he was talking to a lady.

  “Quite so,” replied Megan graciously. “It makes perfect sense in this climate.”

  Her relief at being rescued had only partially assuaged her raging headache, and now the broiling sun and constant need for her attention had brought back the pain in full measure. She was also raging with thirst.

  “Ted, would it be possible to get some water?” Chagrined, Ted looked over at Randy, who immediately invited them all to his house, which was nearer than the hotel.

  “Rachel is quite an apothecary and can help you with . . .” He made a swirling gesture toward his face with his hand. “And with your headache.”

  Megan was somewhat taken aback. She hadn’t considered what she must look like, but suspected it was at least as bad as she felt. A headache powder would be very welcome, so she nodded her consent.

  Steve, who had been a tower of strength throughout, explained he needed to fill in the Sheriff, and departed.

  Rachel’s surprise at seeing the disheveled party at her door
quickly turned to concern as she hustled Megan into the kitchen.

  “You’re the woman who was kidnapped,” she gasped. She leaned forward and gently touched Megan’s face in a few places. “What happened?”

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t being too cooperative so he hit me—hard enough to knock me out, I’m afraid. One minute I was pulling his hair and screaming in his ear, and the next I was waking up in a cave—the mine.”

  “Well that accounts for the bruising, then, and the headache I can see in your eyes. Sit tight.”

  As Rachel set to work, Randy, Moses, and occasionally Ted explained the events of the day from their perspective. Rachel looked over at Megan with approbation. Once they’d shared their tale, they went into the parlor to discuss the day’s events and its ramifications.

  The willow bark decoction was bitter, but was followed by some sugared tea, and Megan begin to perk up a bit.

  “Sit still and try to relax while I clean you up. This is witch hazel and quite soothing, but it may sting a bit on the scrapes.”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Evans!”

  Then Rachel brought a clean, dampened cloth smeared with a thin layer of a greenish gel she had squeezed from a leaf from an odd looking plant. Seeing the questioning look on her face, Rachel explained, “This plant, called aloe, is native to this area and has medicinal properties, Mrs. Bristol. My husband knows my interest in herbal remedies and brought it to me on his first visit home some months ago. I’ve found it works wonders for skin ailments and should soothe your face.”

  Ted popped his head into the kitchen to find Rachel pressing a compress against Megan's cheek.

  “Now you hold it there until you stop hurting,” she admonished, and then slipped away leaving the two alone.

  After confirming for himself she was safe and being well-treated for her injuries, Ted explained his concern

  “Megan, may I have your permission to represent Camellia in business discussions?”

  “Why, yes! I imagine she's somewhat of an heiress, now, isn't she, if what Moses said about the quality of ore is true. Of course, she cannot exactly do any work on the mine, so that is a consideration.”

  “Exactly” said Ted, “and this is the kind of negotiations I do all the time for the railroad. I had thought they would just need me as an engineer, but it seems I am a jack-of-all-trades these days.”

  Megan smiled up at him. “Well, if we need legal advice, we can always consult with my brother, but I certainly trust you to do what's right for Camellia.”

  “Yes, you and I need to do some talking about Camellia, too. Randy Evans has offered to add her to his family.” He kept his face neutral, but she had caught him in the nursery playing with Camellia and snuggling his face into her soft tummy. The two had seemed quite delighted with one another.

  Ted had also received a lesson on burping and why one did not allow an infant, no matter how greedy, to slurp down an entire bottle without a break. He also believed, quite firmly now, in the benefits of a cloth on the shoulder “just in case.” But he was clearly enchanted with the child. Surely he had no intention of suggesting . . .

  Screwing up her eyes a bit she squinted at him, and then stated calmly, “Her mother, Sonia, gave her to me. While her father had a claim which I would have honored, I don’t think she intended for me to allow anyone else to rear her. I realize that when we married you became my legal guardian, a subject we may discuss at another time, but you also took on my responsibilities toward Camellia. You have never struck me as one to shirk a responsibility.”

  The relief on Ted’s face was palpable and he bent over to kiss his wife fully on the lips.

  “That’s what I hoped you’d say! I’ll let Randy know she’s our daughter now.”

  ~~~

  Sheriff Behan stared at the prisoner.

  The doctor had tended to the flesh wound left by Moses’ bullet.

  The man’s face was a mess, scratched and bleeding, and his nose had been reset by the doctor. But there was no mustache. The wanted poster clearly showed a massive handlebar mustache, and the man who’d kidnapped the woman had been wearing that self-same mustache, he’d been assured.

  Pete stared back truculently. “I want to charge that Amazon with assault. She’s vicious and dangerous. A wildcat! No wonder Willie went mad after she crippled him!”

  Steve had just slipped in the door and joined the general hilarity at Pete’s declaration.

  As the Sheriff’s steely gaze swept the room, Steve hastened to explain, “That ‘Amazon’ is no bigger than a handful and a real gentlewoman.”

  “But where’s his mustache?”

  Steve smiled, remembering Mrs. Bristol pulling an object from her pocket and entrusting it to him. He now reached into his own pocket and placed a dead rodent on the desk. As the Sheriff reared back in his seat, Steve carefully spread open the mass of fur to reveal a handlebar mustache, considerably worse for the wear. Behan glared at it, then over to the prisoner, and then back at the mustache.

  “So that’s how he hid in plain sight.”

  ~~~

  There were yet a great many details to be worked out, but it had been generally agreed that Moses would combine his claim with Randy’s and Ted, acting on his daughter’s behalf, would handle paperwork while the men concentrated on the mine itself. If it proved as rich as they thought, they might well expand and hire others. But Megan should be resting and Ted needed to return the buggy to the livery.

  On their way in, Megan remembered the lunch basket. She turned to Ted and suggested he run it over to the Evans as a thank you—she suspected the boys would enjoy the treat and Mrs. Evans might enjoy the break from cooking.

  When she finally got back to their room, Megan drafted a wire to be sent to Sra. Suarez to let her know they’d be away another day:

  El padre de Camellia fue encontrado muerto y quedaremos un día más para el funeral. (Camellia’s father was found dead and we are remaining another day for the funeral.)

  She made a mental note to write to Toby again, so he could tell his mother how everything had turned out. Hmmm, she’d also need to write Tom’s mother. Megan hated to pry but she would need to read Mrs. McNeel’s letters in order to know how best to explain that while she’d lost a son, she’d gained a granddaughter. Perhaps invite her out for a visit.

  But right now her head hurt. So she took advantage of the hotel’s running water and took a bath.

  EPILOGUE

  The stage to Benson had been every bit as uncomfortable as the ride to Tombstone three days earlier. Rachel Evans’ willow bark decoction had provided relief from the headache and Rachel had slipped her an extra paper “just in case, dear. You took a nasty blow to the head and may have some side-effects for a number of days. Try to avoid doing anything strenuous.”

  They’d been met by Agent Brandt who’d been chagrined to learn his wire had arrived too late, but he was once more impressed by Megan’s ability to summarize succinctly the events of the past few days and their aftermath—and by her amazing sang-froid in the face of danger. The two men had sat on the patio after dinner enjoying cigars and brandy in happy agreement that Megan was an amazing woman and Ted was about the luckiest man on God’s green earth . . . “of course, I haven’t seen a lot of green around here,” commented Ned.

  “Just wait until the rainy season,” replied Ted. “Rather like Megan, quiet and then spectacular.”

  Ned had spent the night but was gone early the next morning to catch the stagecoach to Tombstone. Ted had risen early to see him off, but Megan had said her goodbyes the night before, after securing a promise he would visit again on his return trip.

  “But I will not be staying since I expect to be escorting Pete back for trial.

  “I’ll certainly rest easier knowing he’s far, far away!”

  Ted had slipped back into bed once Ned departed and was now joining Megan for a late breakfast. She had slept well and now looked as fresh and dewy as at their first breakfast together. The b
ruise was almost entirely gone and the headache no more than a bad memory. She must get one of those aloe plants and instructions on its use, as well as Rachel’s receipt for the decoction she’d used for the headache!

  She closed her eyes in pleasure as she sipped her chocolate and gave a contented sigh, then opened them and smiled brilliantly at her husband.

  “You, my dear, are a paradox,” Ted exclaimed. “You adhere to all of the virtues and circumscribed behaviors that I was convinced were the necessary requirements of the paragon whom I would want for a wife. And at the same time you are full of spunk, life, vigor, and an awareness of all about you; a willingness to help others in need; and a joy which you share with me every time you touch my hand.

  “You are, in fact, not the stuffy little society maiden I thought I wanted and had idealized, when I thought myself condemned to a solitary life in the wilds of the west. Instead you are the real flesh-and-blood woman whom I find I crave above all others. You observe the world with awe and give rightful due to the Creator who clearly, in His Infinite Wisdom, brought you to me.

  “I thank the Lord every day for your brother’s inspiration, encouraging me to write to you. It is the best thing I have ever done in my life, and you are the best thing in my life.”

  Megan sat there stunned. She had known her husband had feelings for her but was overwhelmed by his declaration.

  “You must know,” she replied, “that prior to leaving Philadelphia I had no idea I was even capable of a portion of the things that I have accomplished since I left. All of the stumbling blocks I’ve encountered have turned into opportunities to get to know myself and the world around me, and to become a much better person than I ever was while attending soirees and teas and doing a bit of stitching.

  “I had no idea life could be such an adventure, and you have proven to be every bit the poet your letters proclaimed, but, even more, a true hero. Our friends back home would scarcely recognize us now.”

  She laughed and put out her hands to him. “Oh, Ted, beloved husband, thank you for being you.”