Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six) (8 page)

BOOK: Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six)
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Apple stopped and spun to her. “They can't. I won't let them!”

“Why not?” Sadie and Belle asked in unison.

“Because… I… I don't want to get married. Ever!” Apple turned and ran from the parlor.

Sadie watched her go, then plopped down on the settee and reached for the tea. She poured herself a cup, and took a long swallow. “Did I hear her right?”

Belle sat next to her and took the other cup. “Yes, I heard it too. But it doesn't make any sense.”

“No, it doesn't. I think we’d better get to the bottom of this before we start making any wedding arrangements.”

“I agree. But maybe we ought to wait for Colin and Harrison to get home, then discuss it with Apple over dinner,” suggested Belle.

Yes, you’re right. Come suppertime, we'll find out what this is all about whether Apple likes it or not.”

 

* * *

 

Apple paced the floor of her bedroom as fiercely as she had the parlors. Now she was
really
in a pickle! If Sadie and Belle had anything to say about it, she'd be married to Deputy O'Hare within the week! But she couldn't marry him, or any man, for that matter, lest they die! What was she going to do?

“I’ll run away! It's the only answer.” She went to the window and looked out at the empty barnyard. If she left now, she’d have a couple hours head start before Harrison and Colin hightailed it after her. But that wouldn't do, they'd catch her, drag her back home, and give her the scolding of her life. Then she'd have to tell everyone her reason for leaving, and they might not believe her. After all, they hadn't had any experience with the Sayer curse, not like she and…

“Eloise!”

Hadn’t Eloise told her she thought the curse was at work when she and Seth were courting? If anyone would understand her dilemma, it would be her cousin! “I'll go to town tomorrow and talk with her,” Apple said to herself. “She'll understand, and then maybe she can help me leave town.”

But would Eloise help her? What if she dismissed the whole thing, informed Colin and Harrison of her intentions, and told them to keep her under lock and key until she was married? But to do so could only lead to tragedy of the worst sort, and Apple could never live with herself if something else happened to Bran O’Hare.

“Please, Lord, I don't want the man to die because of me.” Correction—she didn't want him to die at all, weather because of her or a stray bullet. After all, she rather liked him.

Okay, so after this afternoon, she found she liked him more, even if he was cranky, loudmouthed, and a mannerless—okay, so he wasn’t entirely without manners… “Irishmen!” He was fiery, passionate, and for the most part, spoke his mind, except when it came to forgiving her for killing him, but that was besides the point right now. What she had to worry about was how she was going to protect him from the curse, and let no one be the wiser.

Apple sat on the bed and let out a heavy sigh, then looked around the room that had been her home since her arrival in Clear Creek. “I'm going to miss this place,” she whispered. “And my family.” She straightened and squared her shoulders. “But I can't let him die.” She looked around the room again. She would need some paper, pen, and ink in order to make a plan, one that would allow her to leave the Triple C and Clear Creek far behind. It was the least she could do for Bran O'Hare after what she'd done to him.

 

 

 

 

Eight

 

“What's the matter with you?” Sheriff Hughes asked as he came into the office.

Bran pulled his face out of his hands and looked at him. He'd left the Triple C more than a little flustered, rode back to the sheriff's office, and had sat and puzzled over what happened for the last hour. “Nothing, I'll be fine.”


Will
be? What about now? What happened, son?”

“Nothing, Harlan, drop it.”

Sheriff Hughes took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. He smiled at Bran and let loose a small chuckle. “Woman trouble?”

“What makes ye think that?”

The sheriff shrugged. “Cause you got the look of a lonely coyote that's just lost the one chance he had for some female company.”

“That's ridiculous,” Bran snapped.

“Not so ridiculous, being as how I know you were out at the Triple C visiting Apple Sayer.”

“I… well, I… had some things to discuss with her.”

“Did you get things settled?”

“No.”

Sheriff Hughes scratched his head, went to the potbellied stove, and poured himself a cup of coffee. “If you fancy the thought of marrying that gal, be sure I'm the first to know so I can hire on more help, ya hear?”

“I'm not going to marry anyone! Least of all, Apple Sayer!”

Sheriff Hughes eyed him over his shoulder, and then returned his attention to his coffee. “Sure you are,” he drawled. “You can say that all you want, but an old codger like me knows better.”

“Come on, you're not an old codger yet.”

“Yet,” he said as he turned to face him, and took a sip of coffee.

“What about you, Sheriff? Do you ever think of getting married?”

Sheriff Hughes shrugged. “I might, if I find the right woman. Of course in this town that could take a while, but new folks will settle here once the hotel is really underway. Then maybe one day, we’ll see the railroad come through. Now wouldn't that be something?”

“True,” Bran said more to himself than Sheriff Hughes. “All sorts of folks would be moving west if the rail roads made it this far.”

“You might miss out on a lot of livin’ with a wife between now and then, son. I’d think twice about marryin’ while you can, especially when there’s a gal available to ya.”

“She almost killed me.”

“Come on now, you ain’t still holdin’ on to that, are you? That's the sorriest excuse for not marryin’ I've ever heard.”

“You weren’t the one locked in that safe.”

“I don't have to be to see that you've got a spark in your eye for that gal, and it ain’t because you're mad at her.”

Bran closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the desk. “What if she won't have me?”

“Why wouldn't she? Forgive and forget as they say, put that safe business behind ya and court her.”

He looked up at the sheriff. “No, Harlan. I mean, I'm just a deputy with a deputies pay. I sleep in a room at the hotel. I haven't got a house, heck I don't even own a wagon. I'm just a poor Irishman with nothing to give to a woman but the threat of me getting shot in the line of duty.”

Sheriff Hughes sat on the other side of the desk. “Son, I’m only gonna tell ya this once. A woman like that doesn't come around here—and I do emphasize
here
in Clear Creek, every day. Now as fate would have it, her intended done got himself shot, which leaves her wide open for another man to marry her. Which, I might point out, have the
same  chance
of getting shot as you do. In fact, you've already had a brush with death so I'd say you get a reprieve for a time. If I were you, I'd marry her before somebody else does.” With that, he stood. “Now, get out of my chair so I can write some reports.”

Bran shook his head and relinquished the chair to the older man. “Have you never married because you’re a lawman?”

Sheriff Hughes took his seat behind the desk. “That was part of it, when I was younger.”

“Do you regret never marrying?”

Sheriff Hughes looked Bran right in the eye. “Yes, son, I do. The only partner I have in this world is checkers, and it makes a poor bedmate.”

Bran laughed, but then quickly sobered. “I understand, Sheriff, thank you.” He put on his hat and went to get his coat.

“Where ya goin’?” asked the sheriff.

“I think I'll head down to the mercantile and see if I can't find something to give to Miss Sayer as a peace offering.”

“Candy works real well, or maybe a book, considerin’ them Sayer girls are smart.”

“I'll keep those in mind,” said Bran with a smile. He turned and left.

Outside he noticed the temperature had dropped. It was getting colder every day and he wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to have a wife to keep him warm on long, cold, winter nights. He then wondered how Sheriff Hughes had gotten along all these years without the company of a woman, and recalled the flicker of regret in the man's eyes. He hated that look, and hated how regret made him feel. The question was; how much would he regret it if he didn't pursue Apple Sayer?

He stood on the boardwalk as a cold wind blew past; reminding him he was losing daylight. By the time he got to the mercantile, he decided that if he didn't pursue her, he'd regret it, a lot.

 

* * *

 

Bran stared at the variety of goods on the shelves and considered the sheriff's suggestion of a book as a suitable peace offering. The problem was, he didn't have much money, and wasn't sure if he had enough for such an extravagance. He casually glanced around, and, satisfied that no one was looking, searched his pockets to see what money he did have.

“Good day to you, Deputy, I hear you paid us a visit earlier.”

Bran jumped and almost pulled his gun. He turned into the smiling face of Harrison Cooke. “Mr. Cooke, um… yes. I paid a call on Miss. Sayer.”

“And how did you find, Miss Sayer, Deputy?”

Bran blinked at him a few times. “Er… fine?”

“Really? I heard she was mad as a rattler and threatened to tear you limb from limb.”

“What?” Bran asked in shock.

Harrison flew into a fit to hysterics. “So sorry, old chap, but I couldn't resist. But as I understand it from my wife—the most reliable source as she
was
there; Apple was very upset when you left.” His smile vanished. “Is there something you'd like to speak to me about?”

“Speak to you? Why would I need to speak to you, Mr. Cooke?”

Harrison shrugged innocently. “Come now, perhaps you'd like to call again on my cousin? Or maybe come to Sunday supper?”

Was Harrison Cooke asking him if he planned to court his cousin? “Mr. Cooke…”

“Harrison, please.”

“Harrison,” he began again. “What do ye want?”

Harrison stepped toward him and stared into his face. “The real question, Deputy, is what do
you
want? My cousin is impressionable and innocent, as you can tell.”

That got Bran’s hackles up. “Are ye implying I would take advantage of her?”

“Not at all, on the contrary, I just wanted it made clear, that should you court her, she is liable to lose her heart very quickly. Don’t tamper with it, Deputy, whatever you do.”

“I have no intention of tampering with Apple's heart, Mr. Cooke.”

“Good. For I have no intention of allowing you to, nor does my brother. So, now that that's settled, you have our permission to do so.”

“Your permission?”

“Of course, Colin and I were placed in charge of Apple by His Grace, the Duke. I’ll grant we’re not exactly parents, but we are still her family. We’ll not only see her married, but that she marries well.”

Bran's eyes drifted to the floor, then back to him. “So I take it I meet your standards, then? Why else would ye give me permission to court her?”

“You're a good man, O’Hare, of course we’ll let you court Apple. We’d like nothing more than to see you marry her, should the two of you suit.”

Bran almost sighed in relief right then and there, but his pride wouldn't let him. He nodded at Harrison instead, and held out his hand. Harrison took it and gave it a healthy shake. “I came in here to find something for her,” Bran told him.

“Really? Tell me, what did you have in mind?”

“To tell you the truth, Harrison, I’m not sure what to get her. It's more a peace offering, considering what happened this morning.”

“Ah, I see. Well then, might I make a suggestion?”

“Please do,” said Bran, hoping he didn’t sound too helpless.

“Not the book.”

“Candy then?”

Harrison shook his head.

“If not that, then what?”

Harrison smiled. “Apple, like any woman, loves gifts, but she's different. If I were you, I’d find her something that you could not only give her, but
experience
with her as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is… how should I put this… give her something that the two of you can do together.”

Bran pushed his hat off his forehead. “Well tarnation, Mr. Cooke, how am I going to do that?”

“Use your imagination, and trust me when I say, she'll love you for it.”

“I’ve already had one
experience
with her …”

“I'm not talking about getting locked in a safe, or kissing her, Deputy, just so you know,” Harrison told him in a stern voice.

Bran held his hands in front of him in defense. “You brought it up, not me.” Both men laughed at that.

“What's this I hear about kissing?” called Wilfred from behind the counter.

Bran and Harrison turned to him. “Wilfred!” Harrison laughed. “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“Only when ya got to the kissing part!”

Harrison shook his head and turned back to Bran. “Wilfred is, first and foremost, a romantic.”

“That and he has mighty good hearing,” added Bran as he eyed Wilfred who now wore a silly smile on his face.

“So, what will it be?” asked Harrison. “What will you do to win the hand of the fair maiden?”

Bran gave his attention back to him. “Well, as you English would say, I haven't the foggiest. But I'm sure to come up with something.”

“That's the spirit! Now, I must see to my business. Chase should be done replacing Juliet's shoe by now. Seems my cousin’s little trots across the prairie didn't do my mare much good.”

“I don't think it did Apple much good either,” Bran said solemnly.

“Chin up, Deputy, you’ll see. Apple will be right as rain, especially when she knows you’ve forgiven her. Have you?”

Bran’s heart sank. “No,” he said and couldn’t give him a reason why. He'd have to forgive her, but the mere thought made him cringe. The frustration he felt not knowing why, was even more bothersome. “That's what this gift is about,” he finally said.

“Glad to hear it, “said Harrison as he patted him on the back. “I think the two of you will make a fine match. But remember, she and her cousins are a free-spirited sort, and passionate about life. When they fall in love, they fall hard and fast.”

“Don't worry, I’ll remember that,” Bran said as he put the book back on it shelf.

“You gonna up and buy somethin’? Or are ya just gonna stand over there and yap all day?” Wilfred called across the mercantile.

“Remember what I said,” Harrison reminded him in a low voice.

“Thanks for the advice,” Bran said and shook his hand one more time.

Harrison smiled then turned to face Wilfred. “I've come for the mail, and give me a half a dozen of your delicious cinnamon candies.”

“Comin’ right up,” said Wilfred. ‘And you got a package! It looks like it's from Duncan!”

“Duncan!” Harrison exclaimed and quickly strode to the counter. “Well, handed it over man!”

Bran watched as Wilfred handed Harrison a package then turned to get his candy. He took one last look at the books and candy shelves, and then headed for the door. What in Heaven's name was he going to do to show he had no ill-will toward Apple Sayer?

 

* * *

 

It had been several days since Deputy O'Hare paid a visit to the Triple C, which meant it had been several days or more since Apple had been to Clear Creek, After all, it wouldn't do to go to town and run into the man. With her luck, lightning would strike him dead, or he'd walk out in front of the stage and get run over, or maybe Mrs. Upton would toss a sack of flour on him like the time she and Mrs. Dunnigan did to an outlaw threatening Josiah King.

Mrs. Upton had been quite animated in her retelling of the story of how she and Mrs. Dunnigan saved the day, not to mention the preacher’s wife Annie. If it hadn't been for them, Preacher Jo and Annie would have both met with horrible ends.

“Everyone in this town has adventure and romance but me,” Apple said to herself with a pout. She sighed and stared out her bedroom window. Would she ever experience romance? Not likely, and for good reason too.

BOOK: Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six)
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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