SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories) (70 page)

BOOK: SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories)
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The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride

Chapter 1

              Billy Jameson had finally snapped.  Everyone knew Billy was rowdy and as wooly as a mammoth, but this time he had gone too far.  He had overstepped his bounds again and now everyone in the good town of Woodfern knew it.  He was an outlaw, a rascal and a young hooligan who didn’t seem to respect anyone or anything. 

              “Attention!” the boy screamed, right in town center, his monstrous voice carrying just fine for a twenty-year-old ruffian.

              Silas Manderson cowered, sweating, crying and saying his prayers.  The old man could barely stand it.  Everyone knew Billy was trouble, sure, but no one ever thought he would stoop this low.  Silas clutched his hat and shifted his sloping glasses back onto his head. 

              “I want ya’ll to listen up,” Billy said.  “I know there’s a no good son of a bitch named Silas Manderson still alive and walking around somewhere in town.  I done killed all his friend.  Done killed all of his horses.  And now, I’m gonna kill Silas.”

              Silas opened his eyes wide and gasped, trying to fit under the table inside the office so that he might escape certain death.

              “ And if anyone tries to butt in or stick their head where it don’t belong, I’m gonna kill them and their horse.  Got that?  This here business is between Silas and I, and we’re going to settle this like men.”

              Billy shot a gun up into the air and smiled.  “Ohhhh, there goes another man down.  I shot him down like a pigeon.”  He was a rough looking but handsome young man, another one of these ruddy Jesse James-worshiping bad eggs that loved the ladies and loved raising trouble.  But Silas had never seen him like this before.  

              Billy fired a second shot into the air, still laughing.

              “And there’s another man dead.  Hear that, Silas?  I’m coming for you.  Hey look, there’s Silas’ horse coming right now.”

              Billy fired a third shot into the open air and grinned.  “Damn, that horse went down like whiskey.  Sorry Silas, but you called this carnage upon yourself.”

              Meanwhile, Silas was cowering under the desk and trying to remain as quiet as possible.  Billy made it clear that enough was enough and it was time to settle things like men.  As far as he was concerned, Silas was the one who started the whole thing, waving that damn record in his face.  This was the wild west, after all, deep Texas, and a man’s courage was his only real credit in a town like Woodfern.

              “Well, I guess you’re going to make me hunt you down like a dog, Silas.  If that’s the way it has to be, fine.  But if I have to come in there…you ain’t going to like what I do to you.  Got that?”

              Silas shut his eyes in resignation.  Maybe this really was his day of destiny.  Maybe this was all she wrote.  He slowly emerged from under the table, shaking off his trembling fears and determined to go out and get what was coming to him.  Maybe if he stood up to Billy Jameson, the boy might spare his life.  Maybe.  But who knew just how crazy the little bastard was?

              He was crazy all right, but not in the way Silas was thinking.  Just then, a group of about five men all came out to the town center, laughing and making eye contact with Billy, continuing their rehearsal.  They all sat on the dusty ground and then sprawled out, pretending they were shot dead.

              Billy fired a few rounds into the air, just to make it theatrical.  He took a new box of bullets out and reloaded.

              A few moments later, Silas slowly walked outside the building he was hiding in, holding his hands up and facing Billy. 

              Billy smiled and stared him down, playing with his gun and nodding.  “So…you miserable old monkey.  You finally decided to come down and accept your fate?”

              “Y-Yes.  I have.  You want to duel me.  Go ahead.  At least you know that I wasn’t a coward.”

              Silas looked around the empty town center seeing only six men, flopped on the ground and motionless.  He shook his head in revulsion—Billy had killed them all, or at least that’s what it looked like.

              “You started this, you know,” Billy said.

              “You owed me a debt,” he replied weakly.

              “Yeah and I said I’d pay it.  But Jesus, Silas.  You got to make it hard for everybody don’t you?  You goddamned leech.  See around these parts, I have what is called good credit.  I answer to one man.  My daddy, the sheriff.  You know my daddy, don’t you, Silas?”

              “Yeah, I do,” Silas said, his sweat dripping like a well by now.  “And I know your daddy would never approve of murder.”

              “Who said I murdered anyone?”

              “Look all around you!” Silas said, pointing to the bodies lying all over the ground.  “You think Sheriff Jameson would approve of this?  You’re mad, boy!  Mad!”

              “Maybe we’re all a little crazy, Silas,” Billy said, giving him those hyena-like eyes that he knew Silas feared.  “But you ain’t going to be worrying about none of that.  Now prepare to meet your maker.  Walk ten paces backwards and you come out shooting.  Because I don’t mess around.”

              “But…I don’t got no gun,” Silas said.

              “Here, use mine, ya old goose.”  Billy through him a spare gun he had in his pocket.

              “I…I’ve never used one before.”

              “It ain’t surgery, son,” Billy said with a laugh.  “You just cock it and pull the trigger.  And then you come out blasting.  Got it?”

              “I guess I have no choice,” Silas said, looking a bit pale.

              “That’s the spirit.  Now you show all of Woodfern how much of a man you are.”

              Billy turned around and walked, trying not to laugh, but enjoying Silas’ humiliation greatly.  Silas turned and walked ten paces, trying to fumble with the gun and figure out how to use the blasted thing.

              “One…two…five…” Billy said, noticing Silas speeding up at the sound of his voice.  “Eight…nine…”

              “Wait!” Silas screamed.

              “Ten!”

              Billy turned around and screamed firing his own gun like a maniac. 

              Silas screamed and fired back fumbling with the gun and barely pulling the trigger once…then twice…then a third time.

              Silas looked around…then down to his shirt.  He didn’t notice any bulletholes or open wounds.  He looked back up to Billy’s face.

              Billy’s expression was blank.  His body went into a seizure and then fell to the ground cold.

              Silas opened his mouth in alarm.  “Oh my Heavens.  I killed him.  I…I killed the sheriff’s son…”

              Sheriff Jameson had heard enough and walked down to the center of town from the barber shop just up the street.

              “What’s going on?” the big-bellied sheriff asked a local housewife who was watching the fiasco from a distance. 

              “Sheriff Jameson,” she said, turning her face to see him.  “Your son is causing a commotion again.”             

              “What’d he do?”

              “Well, I don’t know exactly.  But apparently he has Silas Manderson convinced that he’s on a killing rampage.  He had six men fall down and pretend to be dead.  Then he staged a duel to the death.  They both fired blanks.  And then Billy lost.”

              The sheriff cracked a smile, and put a hand through his graying black hair.  “You’d think Silas would know it was a prank in the fact that he actually won a gunfight.  That fool doesn’t even know how to fire a gun.”

              The sheriff walked out slowly eyeing the staged “carnage”, and shaking his head at the piles of fake dead bodies everywhere.  He found Billy’s convulsing body particularly ridiculous.

              “Sheriff Jameson!” Silas said, running up to him and still holding the gun.

              “Silas.”

              “Something terrible has happened.”

              “Oh?”

              “I killed your son.”

              “Did you, now?”

              “But it was an accident!” he said.  “He was threatening me.  I had no choice but to outdraw him.”

              The sheriff stifled a bit hearty laugh.  Silas sure was full of himself even in the face of death.

              “Well, I guess he got what he deserved, huh?”

              Sheriff Jameson walked passed Silas and three other fallen men and kicked Billy in the shoulder.

              “Oww!” the lad said, rolling over and jumping to his feet.

              “What the hell!” Silas screamed.  “You bastard!  You lying bastard!”

              “You shoulda seen the look on your face,” Billy laughed, as did six of the newly “resurrected” fellows who stood up and applauded.

              “Damn kids!  All of ya!” Silas said with venom.  “You ain’t heard the last of this.  I’ll get you for this!  You make a fool out of me?”

              “Hell, Silas.  I don’t even have to try much to make a fool out of you.  You make it so damn easy.”             

              “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, toying with people like that,” Silas pouted.  He wagged his finger and stomped off.  “And you, sheriff, you let your boy get away with murder.  You know that?”

              The sheriff stared Silas down and sighed.  “All right Silas.  It’s a prank gone wrong.  No sense fighting about in public.”

              “A horrible prank!”

              “I can’t believe you thought you had won!” Billy said.

              “All right that’s enough,” the sheriff said.  “Silas, go home.  Billy, what in the hell are you doing?”

              Billy’s actor friends and Silas dispersed leaving the two generations of Jamesons to talk things through.

              “Come on, dad.  You’re sticking up for Silas Manderson?  He’s a tax accountant, the worst kind of snake in the world.  He wanted to come and get in my face with his little piece of paper saying I owe a debt?  I just thought he needed a good humbling.”

              “Well, that’s not your job to humble government people now, is it?  That’s someone else’s battle.  Not yours.”

              “Everything is my battle, dad,” Billy said with a cocky smile.  “I’m ready to take on the world.  I’m all about fighting for injustice, you know.  That’s all Billy Jameson stands for is sticking it to the powers that be.”

              “I think what you need, son,” the sheriff said with a stern look, “Is some kind of life for yourself.  You’re twenty years old and you’re still acting like a damn twelve-year-old, pulling pranks and kicking sand in people’s faces.”

              “What else is there?  I got money in the bank.  I’m a part time bounty hunter.  I make ends meet.  What, you got to straighten me out and make me stop having too much fun?  Is that your goal in life is to make sure I’m miserable as you.”

              “Well, that’s one way of putting it,” he said, tightening his frown.  “But sometimes real life can be enjoyable, you know.  Sure beats living like a kid your whole life.”

              “Oh don’t worry about me, old timer,” Billy said.  “When it comes to women and whiskey, I’m a professor of the craft. 

              “Yeah,” the sheriff said, eyeing him and soberly thinking about the future.  “Well if it’s the last thing I do for you as a father, it will be to teach you that there’s more to life than having fun.”

              “That’s your choice, sheeeereeeef,” Billy blabbed on.  “I ain’t going to live that way.  And if you’re so damned unhappy all the time maybe it’s you who needs to stop living in the real world and start enjoying your twilight years.  For once.”

              Billy walked away, uninterested in the rest of the conversation.  It was a brilliant prank and that’s all that mattered.

 

              Of course, Sheriff Jameson had to pick up the pieces of the mess his son had made.  He met with Silas at the bar late that night, after giving a few hours of thought to his troublemaking son and his bleak future.

              “I’m not going to take you or him to court,” a happily drunk Silas told the sheriff.  The two bed had ordered a few drinks and were just now reaching that happy state of surrender where they were drunk enough not to care how much the world has screwed them.

              “I remember what it was like to be young, you know,” he said proudly.  “I pulled pranks in my day.  But with Billy getting up in years, there’s going to come a time when he pisses off the wrong person.  Most folk aren’t as forgiving as I am.  Some of them can actually shoot too.”

              “I know,” the sheriff said.  “The boy just doesn’t seem to want a career for himself.  He doesn’t even want a girl.  He gets girls but he doesn’t want to keep them, if you know what I mean.”

              “That’s another thing that’s going to get him into trouble, you know,” Silas said, gulping down another shot.  “One day he starts fooling around with a taken woman.  The next thing you know, he’s got a whole posse coming for his head.  It ain’t like the good old days anymore.  When you could talk things out.  Nowadays, everybody wants blood.”

              “I hear ya, Silas.  I just be damned if I know what to do with him.”

              “Well,” Silas said with a smile.  “You know what I would do if I were you and had to administer discipline?”

              “Silas, you old coot.  You ain’t never even had children.”

              “Well no, no I haven’t.  But maybe that IS what makes me the expert here, Tom.”

              “All right.  What’s your brilliant idea?”

              Silas leaned and whispered near the sheriff’s ear.  “You order him a mail order bride.  You force him to grow up through baptism by fire, as they say.  Throw him into the room with a woman twice as crazy as he is, and he’ll have to grow up fast.  Or die by a fiercer creature.”

              “Humm,” the sheriff said with a confused smirk.  “I don’t think that’s a good solution.”

              “Maybe that’s not a good solution…but that’s what I’d recommend.  Sometimes a kid as wild and restless as that, doesn’t respond to regular discipline.  He needs an unconventional punishment.  And hell, he’s still under your jurisdiction, ain’t he?”

              “He lives next door but yeah, for another year he’s still my responsibility.”

              “So there ya go.  Get him married off and watch Billy Jameson get his comeuppance.”

              The sheriff frowned for a good minute long…until he half-smiled, liking the idea.  It was cruel and shameful all right, but he’d be damned if he was going to let his own son make a fool out of the family name. 

              And yeah, Silas was happy as a jackass, loving the idea that Billy was going to get comeuppance after all…and the whole mess would be his own idea, chosen by the grace of god and from one vengeful prankster to another.

**

 

Chapter 2

Billy Jameson woke up late on Saturday morning.  Shirtless as always, barely a pair of ratty old dress pants on and scratching his ginger body hair as he crawled out of bed, just a little hung over from celebrating all night with his friends and a few floozies from the bar. 

He didn’t quite remember what happened last night but seemed to recollect a bunch of guys talking, girls flirting, and everyone drinking till they pissed.  Then he seemed to remember they all walked home drunk.  He crashed on the bed and then soaked up morning sun for twelve hours straight.

But…something was wrong.

He heard noises coming from the living room of his small one bedroom house, erected right next door to daddy.  He peered out into the living room.

Lo and behold there was a woman in his house!  A brown-haired, big-eyed girl, probably late teens, and unpacking a suitcase.  She was pretty all right, with curling brown hair, a decent figure and a little cowgirl outfit on, complete with boots, cut shorts and a button shirt plaid shirt.  She had just thrown down her hat on the sofa, damn well making it seemed like she was at home.

Billy suddenly felt naked, rugged and muscular body hulking around shirtless and his pants nearly falling off his butt.  “Who the hell are you?”

The woman met his eyes and smiled.  “Morning sunshine.”

“Morning,” he said unsurely.  “God damn, did I...did we…how much did I drink last night?”

“Oh, you’re a drinker are you?  Didn’t say that anywhere on the letter.”

“The letter?”  Billy laughed.  “Well damn, I’m sure sorry I missed what was apparently a very romantic night.  But I was out like a sunset.  Reckon I drank like ten beers and five shots.  But I sure think that I would have remembered you…”

“How would you have remembered me, sunshine?  We just met.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m Jane Garrett, pleasure to meet you.”

“You just met me?  Well…well…excuse me for being rude, but what gives you the right to be in my house?”

“The law, silly.  I’m your new wife.”

“…”

Billy opened his eyes in shock.  He did a double take, then a triple take, then started rubbing his eyes like he were five years old and someone just brought him a mountain of ice cream. 

“Wait, wait, wait.  Go back.  Now…something doesn’t seem right here.”

“Oh?”

“You’re my new wife?”

“Yeeee that’s how I understand it, mister.”

“Did we get married?  I know I wasn’t that drunk.”

“No, sugar.  But you’re very cute pretending like you don’t know.”

“I really don’t know, I really don’t.  Maybe you can give me an idea?”

“I’m your mail order bride.  Jane Garrett, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“But I didn’t buy no mail order bride.”

“Oh yes you did, boy.  I got the letter last week and they said it was a done deal if I came by horse as soon as possible.  Believe me, with the options I had this was a good deal.  And you ain’t so bad looking, though you probably could use a shirt.  For a first meeting you know.  I like the formality.”

“Naw, naw,” Billy said shaking his head and seeing a dozen shades of red.  “This is not going to happen.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe he would do this to me.”

Billy stormed out of the house and ran next door eager to talk to his matchmaking father.  He banged on the door and huffed and puffed like he was fixing to give birth.

Sheriff Jameson wasn’t home but his mother Helen answered the door.  “Boy, why you walking around with clothes on?”

“What the hell did daddy do?!  I have a woman in my house who claims she is my mail order bride?!”

“What?”

“Yeah!  She’s moving into my house!”

“Did you get drunk…”

“No!  I mean, yes, I did get drunk.  But this is something else.  Dad warned me he was going to punish me.  And then lo and behold, some crazy woman’s in my house claiming to be my wife!”

“Oh Lord have mercy.  You know your father is such a prankster sometimes.”

“This is not a prank!” he screamed.  “This is over the line.  This is way passed the line!  What am I supposed to do with her?”

“I don’t know.  Is she ugly?”

“Is she…what?  That’s not the point, mom.”

“Mmmm,” I see, she said with a smirk.  Rest assured, if the girl was ugly he would have said so.  And he probably would have even made a bigger stink about it than he was.

Yeah that was Sheriff Jameson’s way.  Like father like son.  He was a prankster and raised a prankster.  And he believed sometimes a good prank was a great way to teach a lesson.

Billy stormed back inside the house and stewed.  He was so mad at his father and so perplexed by the sudden appearance of this woman who thought she was his wife.  He had awoken in bed with women before, oh sure, but the idea of waking up half naked to a woman he never laid eyes on before—and who suddenly owned half of everything he had—was the cruelest prank of all.

“Look don’t get too comfortable here,” he said straightly.

“You going to put clothes on or walk around here like a bull all day?”

He sighed, growled…and then grabbed a shirt which he quickly threw on, not bothering to button it.

“Look, I’m sorry this has happened to you.  I’m sorry you were counting on this.  But it’s not going to happen.  Billy Jameson isn’t the marrying type.”

“Well, hold on now.  What are you so upset about?”

“Because, I don’t need no one to marry me.  All right?  I’m the bad ass horsemen of this tiny town.  I’m the outlaw.  I’m a bad seed.”

“Well according to the catalog that matched us together, you were just a shy boy who had never been with a woman before.  You saying that’s not true?”

He groused.  “No, that’s not true.  I’ve been with plenty of women.  I know how to make a woman happy, very happy…”

He met her eyes until she lifted her eyebrows in awkward acceptance.

“Okay, honey.  If that’s what you want on your tombstone you go right ahead and say that.”

He shook off his annoyance and began gesturing wildly, trying not to hurt the poor girl’s feelings but determined this sham marriage was not going to happen.  “Look, my father used you in a plot.  I’m sorry he disrespected you like that.  I’m going to get this marriage annulled.”

“Well, Billy, the fact of the matter is that the strange way your father shows respect is a way I’ve not been accustomed to all my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually when a girl is disrespected she is robbed of all dignity.  Beaten, disgraced, humiliated.  Seems all your daddy did was give you a chance.  And give me a chance.  And you kindly explaining to me the misunderstanding as politely as you did, well, that’s quite an impressive display of gentlemanly manners.”

              “I still don’t get what you’re saying.”

              She laughed.  “It means, you big oaf, you seem like a very nice man.  And it’s a shame we’re so incompatible that you just want to hurry up and divorce me like an old maid.  I guess you’re only used to dating really pretty girls, huh?”

“Well…” he said, scratching his head, still trying to fathom the strangest day of his life.  “It’s not about that at all.  It’s about freedom of choice, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?”

“A man ought to know the woman he marries.  It’s only fair.”

“I guess I’m inclined to agree with that,” she said meeting his eyes and speaking grimly, a little bit of fire in her voice.  “Because I would never wish that kind of life upon you, Billy Jameson.  To be treated like a cow or a steer.  To have to go live with a man you don’t love, that you could never love, and have to do every last thing he tells you to do.  I don’t suppose I would wish that fate upon you, even though I just met you.  To have to worry about being smacked upside the head whenever your spouse doesn’t like the way you’re staring or the way you worded things.  I don’t suppose you would ever want to know what it was like to say goodbye to your own sibling because of poverty.  And to never have the right see your own flesh and blood again because she was forced to marry a man she didn’t love.”

Billy stared at her and fell silent, flinching at what he was hearing.

“I think we ought to know who we marry, for sure.  But I just wish life were fair in that way that it let us choose.  All of us.  But I guess happiness is a man’s right and a woman’s dream.”

Billy tilted his head back and forth, trying to think of something kind to say, or maybe just any word to break the tension.  But he had nothing.

“Well, if you don’t want to marry a man you don’t love why are you here in the first place, Miss uh…Garrett?”

“Well, I’ve come to look at it from a business arrangement,” she said smiling, getting the funny glow back in her prairie dog little face.  “I don’t like you, you don’t like me.  But we get married for a while.  We share the house just long enough so that I can find a job as a ranch hand.  Which is what I do, by the way.  And a few months pass and I get established in town.  And then when I get enough saved money, I move up north and you can claim a bear killed me.”

“Guess you got it all figured out, huh?”

“Yeah, I love the part about getting eaten by a bear.  But believe me, I don’t want to complicate your life, Billy Jameson.  I just want a fighting chance, that’s all.  A chance to start my own livelihood.  So I’m glad your daddy, sneaky as he is, gave me the chance to try it out.”

“Well…”

“And hey, believe me, I got no qualms about giving you your freedom.  If you want to go out and see those pretty girls every night, it’s no business of mine.”

“What?  What kind of wife would let a man go running around out at night?”

“Well,” she laughed.  “Most men I know actually.  They all run around with bar maids and saloon tramps.  It’s the respectable thing to do, you know.  At least when you do it, you’ll know you ain’t hurting my feelings.  Because I sure as hell don’t need a man to love.  I just need a place to live.”

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