Wanted: Hired Gun

by Ginny Sterling

  “What happened to have caused it?”

  “He was laughing one minute and then this happened.”

  “Did he eat something or breathe something that he is allergic to?”

  “I don’t think so,” Posey said softly feeling his body twitch under her. “Shhh, Garrison. I’m here. Rest.”

  “Are you wearing perfume? It smells strongly of paint or whitewash in here. Can we open the windows?” Posey had been wearing bergamot oil dabbed behind her ears and began crying in earnest as she immediately scooted away from him on the floor looking at Hattie in horror.

  “I’ve got a scented oil on me. Do you think I caused this?”

  “No, I’m not saying that but if going through a list of known irritants in my mind. Perfume, flowers, feathers…”

  “Feathers! He’s mentioned feathers before but there are none here.”

  “Smoke is an irritant and sometimes its fumes or animal dander that can trigger an attack. He will need to rest when he comes to and stay away from things that cause problems. Do you live nearby?”

  “Yes,” Posey said immediately and almost explained that Garrison had been living there at the theater. If something in the building had caused the asthma attack, she couldn’t have him here. He could stay in the guest room instead. Posey sat next to him where he lay on the floor and saw his chest was finally moving up and down. His color was returning to his face. Posey took his hand and pressed it to her chest, holding it to her heart.

  “Will you help me get him home so he can rest,” Posey asked quietly, her body was worn out mentally from the trauma and could only imagine how Garrison would feel when he awoke. A few men stepped forward and picked him up bodily. Posey followed behind, leaving everything where it lay in the theater. Nothing else mattered right now, just getting Garrison home so he could rest and wake up.

  9

  Posey had the men carry Garrison inside of her small home. They went directly to the back room that Posey normally used without a word. She didn’t argue the fact because no one in town needed to know that they were husband and wife in name only. She felt a wave of embarrassment that someone might discover their relationship was a sham and this didn’t sit well with her.

  She jerked the pillows off the bed as they lay him down. She vowed to get Garrison something he could use for his head since the ones she had were feather. She saw Hattie’s knowing smile as Posey tossed the offending pillows onto the ground. Garrison’s color was almost back to normal as she pulled up a chair next to the bed.

  “Remember, keep any irritants away and don’t let him smoke those things. They’ve got belladonna in it and it can affect the heart. It’s not worth the high price in the long run. Use oils, try to keep him relaxed and he’ll be fine,” Hattie explained kindly. “We’ll see ourselves out, Miss Jones.”

  “It’s Mrs. Garrison,” Posey said absently, lacing her fingers with his hand and drawing it up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. The overwhelming relief washing through her as she watched his chest draw upwards with each breath was emancipating. The wheezing and strained sounds his throat had been making when he couldn’t breathe had finally ended.

  “I’m glad. Send someone if you need help again and rest. This was a trying day for you as well.”

  “Thank you again.”

  Posey stared at Garrison as he lay there in her bed. She should be shocked or blushing at the large man in her small bedframe but instead she liked the way he looked there. She just wished it was under different circumstances. Her large hats had feathers on them and her French perfume would simply have to go. She had a new bottle of Guerlain that she’d bought as a gift for herself before her abrupt move out to Silverpines. That perfume would need to go as well. She had thought to use it on special occasions but it wasn’t worth the price. She’d yank all the ostrich plumes from her hats and make a large fan for the theater in an effort to remove them from the house.

  Garrison had mentioned a few irritants and she’d not paid attention. Posey had tuned him out- thinking that this new stranger in town wanted to change her. He had done everything but try to change her. He never said no, but rather made suggestions that would result in a benefit for both of them. Perhaps he was right and she should listen to him more. His words burned in her mind, making her heart ache.

  “…for my sake, Posey, can we avoid the heavy floral perfumes and other irritants so I can breathe easily? I am sorry to ask this, but construction would go faster if I am not coughing all the time.”

  She’d fought against him, resisted him at every turn and it resulted in him nearly suffocating to death. Posey lay his hand gently on his chest and gathered up the pillows, perfume bottle and cigarette boxes she had lying around the house. She put them all in a large basket by the front door to be given away the next time she left the house. She was done smoking and putting him in danger.

  Posey put a kettle on to make some chamomile tea for when Garrison awoke and to warm up some water for the wash basin. She would need to change clothing as well as wash her face. She’d glimpsed at her face in the mirror and smiled sadly. She’d had so much fun simply laughing and being with him. Now she just wanted that playful, tender man to wake up and smile at her. Making the tea, she let it steep as she went into the other room to don a clean dress. The one she’d been wearing was stained with paint, smelled like smoke and frankly she wanted to be rid of anything that reminded her of him passing out or the horrified look of desperation that had been on his face.

  She pulled a threadbare old gown over her chemise and removed her corset so she could breathe herself. Pouring two mugs of hot tea, she returned to the room and set it on the small table. Pouring some hot water in the basin, she scrubbed her face clean and rinsed the rag. Moving to the bed, she unbuttoned Garrison’s stained shirt and blushed furiously as she tried to remove it but could not. Instead, she left it open and wiped down his face, neck and shoulders in an effort to make him comfortable.

  “I like that,” she heard Garrison whisper in a raw, scratchy voice. Her eyes jerked upwards to meet his exhausted ones and Posey broke down sobbing.

  “Shhhh my little butterfly,” he rasped and pulled her towards him, cradling her head on his chest as she cried. She didn’t care that his skin was bared to her, all she noticed was that she heard his heartbeat strong and clear under her cheek. It was a miracle to have his warm arms around her once again, and she vowed then to keep him from having another attack.

  10

  Garrison opened his eyes and was shocked to see Posey collapse on him, crying her heart out. He’d been so embarrassed and so frustrated with his asthma attack. One minute he’d been laughing and having the time of his life, the next he’d began wheezing – skipping the coughing all together. The fumes in the air had been strong, but it wasn’t overwhelming. He’d had attacks before when overexerting himself like when he’d been running away.

  He’d loved teasing Posey, and it broke his heart to see the terror on her face. He’d known when he couldn’t breathe that either he was going to pass out or die in front of her, both were terrible for different reasons. He didn’t want her to think of him as less of a man or regret her decision to quickly marry him. He wanted to be strong enough, able enough to protect her and be what his new bride needed. He also didn’t want her last memories of him to be his struggle to breathe. He’d been afraid he was bruising her hand but couldn’t bear to let her go either. He’d honestly been scared that he would never see her again.

  Cradling her, he held his new bride as she let out all her fears in the form of tears on his chest. He smoothed her hair and lay there silently listening to her sob, treasuring the feeling of her skin against his. He wanted her to care, for her to want him but not out of sympathy but because of who he was.

  “Don’t worry,” he said quietly in the golden glow of sunlight shining through the window. “I’m not going anywhere yet, and you don’t have to act like you feel sorry for me… or miss me.” The second he said it, he’d known
he’d made a mistake. Posey’s bun had fallen messily as pins had come out. She’d sat up abruptly, causing it to unfurl down her back as she glared daggers at him.

  “Act like I feel sorry for you? That’d I’d miss you? Is that what you think- that this is an act of mine? That I am portraying someone?” she seethed, scooting away from him as she wiped her eyes and pushed up her nose indelicately. “I’m a performer but this is beyond my scope or I have just learned a new skill. Either way- thank you for being… motivation.”

  “Were you worried then?”

  “Just that I would have to find a new partner and husband – but then again, maybe being a widow wouldn’t be so bad after all,” she shrugged and Garrison could see the wall of armor going up around her mentally. She’d been frightened, and he was a buffoon. Her poor hand had several bruises on it from where he’d grasped it. He’d been scared. Both of them were traumatized and lashing out. They were dealing with the devastation and raging emotions in the only way they knew.

  “Is this your room?” he asked looking around and saw the faint blush of color on her cheeks. He didn’t know if that was due to anger or embarrassment.

  “Yes, but you can stay here and I’ll take the guest room.”

  “No, Posey- you can have your bed.”

  “It’s fine. Half the town knows by now that you are my husband and that the doctor put you to bed here.”

  “But I don’t have to stay here,” he offered.

  “No, you don’t. As a man, you can do whatever you want and its accepted by all.”

  “Whoa, where did that come from?”

  “Nothing. Stay or go as you please.”

  Posey threw her washrag into the basin causing a splash of water to spill over the sides. Garrison watched her in amazement as she stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. His little butterfly had quite the temper when she was in a rage or upset. He heard several noises coming from the kitchen and saw she had brought two mugs of tea to the room, both untouched. Getting to his feet, he realized that his muscles ached terribly and likened it due to the lack of oxygen his body had needed. He had been bad off… and he knew it. He was lucky that he hadn’t died in her arms.

  Grabbing the two cups, Garrison slowly opened the door and walked out to the kitchen to see her standing at the window with her arms crossed over her chest. He stood there watching her, the light making her brown hair glisten. It broke his heart to hear her stifle a sob as her bottom lip shook. She was hiding in the only way she knew how- away from him. She hadn’t realized he was there or else she would tuck this part of her personality, her emotions behind that wall. She’d actually cared for him, and he’d pushed her away.

  Garrison didn’t say a word. He simply set down the mugs and pulled her into his arms. She struggled for a brief moment, but he wouldn’t let her retreat. “I was so glad that the last thing I would ever see was you. It crushed me to know that would be your last moment with me, our last one together. If you are mad? Just get mad at me- don’t hide it away. Lash out. Yell at me. Do anything, but don’t cry all alone. It breaks my heart to hear you cry.”

  Posey let out a horrible, gut-wrenching wail against his shoulder as she pulled him tightly in her arms, burying her face. The outpouring of emotion shook her very frame and he understood. He’d been terrified and needed this contact as well. Neither could say it aloud but their actions spoke volumes. They were overcome with feelings that weren’t quite ready to put into words.

  “Me too, little butterfly…me too.”

  Garrison stayed with Posey at her home, holding her fully dressed body against his as the sun fell in the sky. Neither was ready to part and for the same reason: both were afraid he’d have another attack again once out of sight from the other. While it seemed silly to keep watch, it was also unrealistic. He knew he would need to work on the theater or she would need to practice her lines, neither could exist in a world where they were together all the time – but for now, they both needed the connection and comfort that being together provided. Neither spoke, they just lay there breathing and thinking about the day’s horrors that had come about.

  He would never forget her broken soul in her eyes. Distraught had been too light a term. She was immeasurably destroyed when he was slowly suffocating, right there in front of her very eyes. That broken, scared look would haunt him. He had to do something to make her smile again, make her laugh and bring back the carefree light to her eyes.

  The next afternoon, they walked slowly holding hands through town and saying hello to everyone. He could see a few curious looks turned their direction, but overall- it was a pleasant afternoon. Posey had dressed demurely, plucking every single ostrich feather from her hat and hiding the broken remainders with a thick piece of ribbon. He felt bad that she’d destroyed her expensive hat for him without a word. She’d smiled at her accomplishment, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. He wanted his bold, pretty girl back. As they passed the seamstress, she wanted to step inside to check on the curtains.

  “Go ahead, I’m going to take a look at the mercantile.”

  “No, I’ll wait.”

  “Posey, it’s okay. I promise I am not going to faint or die on you.”

  “Garrison,” she whispered stricken. “I can’t handle that again.”

  “I know. I wish I could say it would never happen again. I can be more careful in the future and do the very best to make sure it’s not as bad as the last time. Most times it’s just slight coughing, but I’m not fragile and I won’t break.”

  “I’ll just come with you,” she insisted.

  “Posey- no,” he said firmly, seeing the crushed look in her eyes. “I’m a grown man who wants to buy his wife a stick of candy, but she keeps ruining the surprise. Now, if you’ll please give me a few minutes alone – I swear I won’t melt or run away.” He could see that his words were making sense, even if she didn’t like it. At her brisk nod, she reached up to cup his face and kissed him on the cheek tenderly. It was extremely unexpected and made him swallow hard, knowing how much ground they’d covered in such a short period of time. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “Thank you.” She nodded tightly with understanding.

  “I’ve an account set up, if you need it.”

  “I’ve got a bit of coin- but thank you. I’ll join you when I am done. Enjoy yourself and let’s see if she can make a tassel pull for the rope. It would be a nice touch.”

  Nodding, Garrison watched his wife walk across the street to the seamstress. She disappeared from view, and he turned towards the mercantile nearby. As he stepped inside, he saw that there was row after row of canned goods, bolts of fabric, as well as several jars of penny candy. Children raced around before heading upstairs in a flurry of feet. Someday he would love to have a child with Posey’s dark blue eyes and her sweet, pert nose.

  “Afternoon sir. How can I help you today?” A young woman was behind the counter doing inventory. “My name is Millie Cutler and you must be new to town. Welcome to Silverpines.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Cutler. I’m new but my wife has been here a bit longer than me. I’m lucky enough to have married a true gem.”

  “Oh? Who’s your wife?”

  “Miss Posey Jones-Garrison”

  “The lady with all the fancy costumes?”

  “That’s my bride.”

  “She’s a creative little woman, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is. I’m quite proud of my fascinating girl. I hope you’ll come see us when we open her theater?”

  “I apologize Mr. Garrison, but with nine children – I think probably not. They’d never sit still long enough but maybe I can get Mr. Cutler out on the town one evening as an escape?” she laughed good-naturedly. “Sometimes we need a break and a show sounds like an ideal spot.”

  “We’d certainly like that.”

  “What can I do for you today? I’m afraid I don’t have any costumes or powdered wigs today.”

  “So, you have see
n my wife about town?” he teased knowingly.

  “Mr. Garrison, don’t take this the wrong way -but your bride is quite fetching and notable in these here parts.”

  “She is exceptional and outlandish.”

  “A very apt description,” Millie said with a chuckle.

  “I’m looking for something to surprise her with – something feminine that will make her smile.”

  “Well, I have some gloves here but they aren’t incredibly delicate like the lace ones they wear in magazines but they do the trick. There is even a pair here with a tiny butterfly embroidered on the wrist.”

  “That is actually perfect.” Garrison put the gloves on the counter, grabbed a stick of rock candy for Posey and was flipping through a catalog on the counter when he was struck with an idea. “I’d like to order something special from here. My wife has a charge account under Jones, can you put it on there and label it as a gift, so she doesn’t know?”

  “Actually, Mr. Garrison – Posey came by last week and changed it to her new name. I can certainly put the charge on the account. It’s no problem,” she began and then smiled knowingly when Garrison pushed the catalog to Millie and pointed at the book. “Those are incredibly beautiful. She’ll love them. Did you want the gloves and candy on there too?”

  “No, I’ll pay for those today,” he said with a wide grin. “So, Posey changed it to Garrison last week?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Hallelujah, I do love that woman,” he said happily, chuckling to himself and digging out his money. “Let’s make it two sticks of rock candy for my girl. I’ll also take the hat in the window- the one with the large ribbon flowers sewn onto it too.”

  11

  Crossing the street toward the seamstress, he saw Posey in the window looking at several different braids and tassels. It surprised him that she now easily accepted his suggestions or ideas instead of fighting him. It was like they were mellowing and finally meshing together well. As he entered the shop, he saw Posey quickly put the golden braid back on the counter.