Shane's Bride (Mail Order Brides of Texas #3) (4 page)

BOOK: Shane's Bride (Mail Order Brides of Texas #3)
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He smiled as he heard the lock clicked as soon as he closed the door.  He’d better get the key back from Edith.  If Cecily fell asleep he’d have no way of getting back into the house.  He shook his head.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spend the night at the jailhouse.

Walking for a bit he finally made it into town and onto the boardwalk.  The first place he checked was the saloon.  It usually got rowdy in there at night, especially on the weekends and from the sound of it, tonight was no exception.  Clinking glasses, loud voices, and off-tune piano music greeted him as he stepped through the swinging doors.  He quickly scanned the room keeping his eyes open for any sign of trouble.  The usual crowd of cowboys all drinking and carousing.  A poker game was going on at the table near the corner of the bar.  He was familiar with two of the players but the other two he’d never seen before.

After nodding to Jamie, the bartender, he moseyed over to the table in the corner.  He didn’t get too close; he wanted to be able to observe all four of them at the same time.  He leaned against the wall and folded his arms in front of him keeping his gaze on them at all times.  From his experience, new faces playing poker usually meant trouble, and this one promised no different.  He inwardly groaned, the two men he did know were both cowboys.  Cyrus was unmarried, but he was not a rich man.  Bill was married with three little ones.  Shane sighed, neither of these men could afford to lose.  The other two men were well-dressed, and he’d bet his next meal, were professional gamblers.  This was the first time he’d ever seen professionals in Asherville, and it didn’t sit well with him.  He had a bad feeling in his gut that it was not going to end well.

Giving up all hope of a quiet evening, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked closer to the table.  “Howdy, gentlemen, seems like a lively game you’ve got going on.  Bill, Cyrus, good to see you,” he said as he nodded to them.

They both looked up, nodded back and quickly went back to the game, and Shane suppressed a groan.  Seemed like they were already in deep. 

He turned to the newcomers.  “I haven’t seen you two around before.  I’m Sheriff O’Connor, and you are…?”

The dark-haired man leaned back, took a gulp of his whiskey, and stared at Shane.  His hair was slicked against his head, and his jacket and vest were obviously tailor-made.  “Diamond is my name, Fred Diamond.  Nice to meet you, Sheriff,” the man said in a southern drawl.

The other man was dressed in much the same manner.  His hair was blond, his eyes beady, and fancy clothes.  An expensive gold chain looped from the watch pocket of his shiny red and black vest, likely connected to an equally expensive watch.  “It’s a pleasure, Sheriff O’Connor.”

“And your name is?”

“Thomas McIntyre.”

“You fellas aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Diamond and I hail from Georgia.  We heard of your lovely town and just had to stop.” Thomas McIntyre quickly looked away and studied his cards.

Shane smiled.  “Well as long as you keep the game friendly—”

“Don’t you worry none, Sheriff,” Fred Diamond said as he gave a fake smile.

Shane narrowed his eyes and stared the gambler down.  “Just make sure you do keep it friendly, gentlemen.  We don’t cotton to any trouble around here.” Shane walked back toward the bar and nodded to Jamie.  “I don’t trust those two.  If you need me I’ll be spending the night at the jail just in case.”

Jamie nodded as Noreen sauntered over smiling at Shane.  “Have you come to enjoy my fine establishment?”

“As fine as it is, Noreen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.  I just told Jamie I’ll be at the jailhouse all night in case I’m needed.  I have a feeling there’s going to be trouble.”

She leaned toward him until her breasts almost fell out of her dress.  “You may be right, Sheriff, but I’m hoping it’s nothing I can’t handle.” She winked at him.

“Well you know where I’ll be.” With a tip of his hat at Noreen, Shane walked out of the saloon.  He headed back to the jail, grabbed his rifle and made sure it was loaded.  Next, he put on a pot of coffee.  It was going to be a long night.

 

 

****

 

 

The next morning when Cecily awoke she wasn’t sure where she was.  When she remembered she was safe in Shane’s house, she smiled.  It was the first time in a long time she felt safe.  Usually she was up before the sun; she could only hope she hadn’t missed making breakfast for Shane.  Quickly, she pulled on her new green dress.  The fresh fabric caressed her legs and ankles as she twirled, enjoying the glorious feeling of owning something new.  Shane certainly was a very generous man, and she was a lucky girl even if it was for only little while.

She opened the door and walked into the kitchen, unnerved by the deep quiet.  Shane’s gun belt and hat were gone, so she must’ve missed him this morning.  Damn, her first day on the job and already she’d messed it up.  Perhaps bringing him lunch it would make up for his lack of breakfast.  She sat down on the chair trying to make up her mind as to whether going into town was a good idea or not.  Certainly, she’d rather not, but she owed it to Shane.  There was plenty of leftover fried chicken, and she’d make him fresh biscuits.

Having a plan of action, a purpose, made her feel better.  She put the coffee on, grabbed the broom and went about cleaning the house.  As she swept the pantry, she noticed the door to the root cellar was too obvious.  It wouldn’t make a good place to hide unless she could find a way to cover it.  Maybe she could make a rag rug to cover it.  Her old dress was certainly a rag, and she’d see what she could find around the house.

She checked the windows one by one inwardly groaning at her compulsion.  Then she checked the front door.  The knob didn’t move.  She caught her breath.  Locked! And Shane had no key.  Oh, no.  He’d been locked out all night. How could she have done such a thing? Hurriedly, she made the biscuits, put the food in the basket and raced out the door, intent on making amends.  Dismay washed over her as she realized clouds had blotted out the sun, and a light drizzle had started to fall.  She’d have to hurry so her new dress wouldn’t get wet and muddy.

Her pace was fast until she got to town then a combination of dread and the hope of being invisible slowed it to a crawl.  Thank goodness the sheriff’s office wasn’t too far inside town limits.  Her only hurdle was the mercantile, which was situated across the street from the jail.  Once the jail was in sight, she increased her pace hoping to get there without running into Edith, but her hopes were dashed as Edith came out of the mercantile and quickly crossed the street.

“Yoo-hoo, Cecily, wait for me.” Cecily bit her lip and waited.  “Poor Shane spent the night in the jail.  Did you do something to make him unwelcome in his own home?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Why, you ungrateful little wretch.  A man gives you a place to stay and you lock him out?”

Cecily seethed inside but she was not going to give Edith the satisfaction of knowing she’d made her mad, so she forced a smile.  “Well, I’ll be on my way to see Shane.  Good day to you, Edith.” Then she turned and walked away.  She could feel the heat of Edith’s stare on her back.  Did the whole town know that Shane was locked out last night? She stood in front of the jailhouse and hesitated.  What if he fired her? Her hand shook as she opened the door.

Shane sat leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk, sleeping.  Loud snores echoed in the sparsely furnished room, and Cecily smiled.  Whether a man snored or not was such a personal thing to know.  Should she wake him up or let him sleep? She decided to let him sleep.  As quietly as possible she left the basket of food on the corner of the desk and snuck back out.  To her dismay, Edith was standing there waiting for her.

“You’ll be leaving on the next stage?” Edith asked in a sarcastic voice while looking Cecily up and down.

Cecily’s eyes widened and her first instinct was to walk away from Edith.  “Of course not.  In fact, we need to get the key from you now.  Do you have it on you or would you like me to accompany you to the mercantile so you can get it?” Cecily asked in a smug voice.

Edith’s mouth dropped open.  “Well we’ll just see about that.”

“Go right ahead,” Cecily said with the confidence she did feel.  “But I have to warn you, Shane said he was going to take a nap, and he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Edith’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Cecily long and hard.  Finally, she shrugged her shoulders, reached into her pocket and withdrew a key.  She slapped it into Cecily’s hand.  “I’d watch your step if I were you.  I’m glad I had the key on me since you are not welcome in the mercantile.  I refuse to have your kind in my store.”

Cecily turned, clutching the key in her hand, and proceeded home.  The light rain grew heavier, chilling her already shaking body. 

“Damn that Edith,” she muttered.  She’d just have to learn to ignore her.  She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be easy.  Edith seemed to be everywhere.  A loud boom of thunder startled her.  She hastened her walk until she got to the edge of town and then she ran.  Until she’d come west, thunderstorms were about the only thing that had ever scared her.  It began to pour, but luckily, she wasn’t far from the cabin.  Her footsteps clopped heavily on the board porch as she raced for the door and flung it open.  Quickly, she closed and locked it behind her, wet fingers slipping at first on the latch.

She was frozen to the core, but she needed to make sure the house was secure.  Dripping water as she went from room to room, she checked the windows to be sure they were locked.  Shivers raced over her as she built up the fire in the stove until the wood crackled as it burned.  Only then did she decide she was safe enough to change her clothes.  Quickly she went into her room, she grabbed a towel and undressed.  Once again, she admired the fine quality of the clothes.  She rubbed the chemise against her skin astounded that anything could be so soft.

She wished she had a full-length mirror, she wanted to see what she looked like in her new dress and shoes.  Her old things hung from a peg in the wall, and she was so tempted to burn them, but using them for her braided rug seemed more prudent.  Waste not want not; she’d heard that all her life, and they were words that had served her well.  With a sigh, she bent over and lifted the wet green dress then carried it into the kitchen where she draped it over a chair to dry.

A smile lingered on her face as she touched the collar, the sleeves, and the full skirt of the blue dress.  This could’ve been her happiness yesterday if not for Edith.  Oh, that woman was a snake in the grass, one that was just waiting for the right time to strike out.  Edith had enough venom inside her to create a lot of problems.  Cecily would have to watch her back.

A tremendous boom shook the house, and she screamed.  Somehow the storms seem worse in Texas than they had in Pennsylvania.  Maybe it was all the open country and the fact that you could see for miles and miles.  Everything inside her demanded she go and check the windows again, but she refused.  Her hand shook as worry filled her body.  She needed to keep busy.

Grabbing the Dutch oven she decided to make a treat as a thank you to Shane for buying her the clothes.  The provisions Shane had bought from the mercantile had included several jars of canned fruit, including some peaches.  She had made many a fine peach cobbler back in Pennsylvania.  In fact, she’d won many ribbons at the town fairs where she grew up.  She grabbed the ingredients she needed and in no time she had her peach cobbler ready to go.  The aroma reminded her of happier times on the farm with her family before the War Between the States.  There’d been so much to look forward to: a home of her own with a husband and children.  She’d thought she’d live next to her parents and they would share their joys together.  Instead, they shared the loss of loved ones and the loss of their dreams.

The rain was making her feel melancholy.  It was raining the day she’d learned that her fiancé was dead.  And the day she’d learned her brother was dead.  She’d never given the rain much thought until now.  She’d always been a dreamer and a planner, and now she wasn’t able to do either.  In fact, she didn’t know what she was anymore.  To most people she was damaged beyond repair and no longer human.

She shook her head.  She’d spent a good amount of time helping those less fortunate than she.  Her father often scolded that she would give away the farm if someone needed it.  Why couldn’t people just treat each other with respect and kindness? She didn’t understand how being mean to others could make one feel better inside unless all they had to give was pure meanness.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore.  She’d done everything she could to keep herself from checking the windows but it was a compulsion she just couldn’t stop.  She shook her head as she went from room to room making sure the house was secure.  She lingered at the front window wondering when Shane would be back.  Probably not until dark, she mused as she turned and went back into the kitchen.  At least she was warm and had a roof over her head and new clothes to wear, things could be a lot worse.

After putting the cobbler in the oven, she grabbed her old clothes and a pair of scissors and went about starting her braided rug.  Strange how different things were out here.  At home open windows and open doors were the normal state of things.  Would she ever get to a point where she’d be able to live that way again?

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Shane awoke at his desk pleasantly surprised to see the basket of food waiting for him.  Edith sure did spoil him something awful.  He swung his feet off the desk and eagerly sat up diving into the basket of food.  A big smile crossed his face when he realized the food was from Cecily and not Edith.  The food looked good, and he enjoyed each and every bite.

The door flew open, revealing Poor Boy just outside.  His eyes were wide and his breathing heavy.  “Sheriff you gotta come! There’s trouble at the saloon.  It’s them gamblers.  You’ll need your gun or two.  In fact, you might want to bring a couple shotguns too.”

“What in tarnation?” Shane jumped up, made sure his gun was loaded, filled his pockets with extra bullets, and grabbed his shotgun.  He jammed his hat onto his head and flew out the door past Poor Boy.  He’d known those two men were trouble the moment he’d set eyes on them.  Gamblers didn’t belong in a small town like Asherville.  He ran down the boardwalk, feet clomping heavily, and crossed the street.  Flattening his back against the front of the saloon, he peered into the window.

The man who’d introduced himself as Fred Diamond had his gun drawn, and he was using Noreen as a shield.  Shane scanned the room for his partner McIntyre and spotted him still sitting at the poker table as though nothing was happening.  He finally saw Old Will standing with his gun pointed at Diamond.  Damn they must’ve fleeced Old Will, and that farmer was dirt poor.  He had no business in a poker game.  Where did he get the money to stake himself?

Shane entered the saloon, gun in hand and stared at Fred Diamond.  He portrayed a calmness he did not feel.  “What’s the problem? Let Noreen go.  If this is between you and Old Will it’s cowardly to hide behind a woman.

Fred Diamond gave Shane a pointed look.  “This old coot is trying to kill me for no good reason.  I’m just trying to keep that from happening.”

Shane shook his head, “Now what’s this all about, Old Will?”

Old Will’s gun shook in his hand as he spoke.  “Them there cheaters stole my money.  Stole every penny, every last one.  Cheating is what they’re doin’, and I aim to put a stop to it.  Now, Shane, I asked politely for my money back but they don’t speak politeness.  So if I gotta put a few holes in one or both of them that’s just what I’m gonna do.”

Shane kept his eye on McIntyre, not trusting him one bit.  In fact, he didn’t look concerned at all.  “Well, Diamond, just give Old Will his money back.  He’s not a rich man.” Shane glanced at Old Will and frowned.  “What were you thinking getting involved in a poker game?”

“To my utter shame, I thought I could make a fast buck.  I heard around town about people winning, and I figured I could use the money.  Oh, they’re good all right, they ease you in and let you win, and just when they think you’re about to leave the table, they start winning, and the next thing you know you’re piss poor.  Well I’m not taking it from them.  I might be foolish, but I ain’t stupid.  Now I want my money back or things are going to get ugly.”

Noreen’s eyes shimmered with tears.  “Shane, you’ve got to help me.  I don’t want to die.”

“The first thing we’re going to do is get everyone out of the saloon including Noreen.  She’s not part of your disagreement.  Let her go.” A few stragglers left the bar. 

Diamond pushed Noreen in Old Will’s direction.  She stumbled across the dusty floor and fell into him, knocking his gun from his hand.  Diamond whirled and aimed his gun at Shane and pulled the trigger, but Shane raised his first.  Diamond opened his mouth in surprise and staggered sideways.  Something struck Shane in the shoulder and searing agony tore through him.  Gritting his teeth, he turned and shot McIntyre dead.

              His chest squeezed against the pain, and he dropped to his knees on the hard saloon floor.  Breathless, he glanced up at Old Will.  “Go…get your money.”

 

 

****

 

 

It was getting late, and the sun had set hours before.  Cecily rubbed the back of her neck trying not to worry about Shane.  For all she knew this was a normal occurrence.  Of course he didn’t have typical work hours.  He was probably just late.  At least the rain had finally stopped along with the booming thunder.  She’d eaten about an hour ago, and she had to admit the cobbler was one of her best.

She got as far as she could with the braided rug, she needed more rags.  She’d have to ask Shane about that.  Too bad there weren’t any books to read.  A sense of loneliness enveloped her, but at least she didn’t feel hemmed in.  She didn’t feel the need to run.  Shrugging her shoulders, she admitted that was a good thing.

She stood to put more wood on the fire when a knock on the door interrupted her.  She quickly made her way to the front door and hesitated before opening it.  It took courage but she turned the knob and pulled. 

Two men stood outside, Shane leaning heavily between them.  With a gasp, Cecily stepped out of the doorway so they could carry him inside.

“This way.” She rushed to his bedroom, aware of them following her, and quickly pulled the quilt off the bed to make it easier to place Shane on it.  She watched in horror as men she didn’t know carefully set him down.  When the doctor appeared in the doorway, she calmed a bit.  “What happened? Is it serious? Is he gonna die?”

Dr.  Martin thanked the men and shooed them on their way.  “It’s just a shoulder wound.  It’s really not all that serious, nothing he hasn’t had before.”

Her heart beat painfully against her rib cage as she rubbed her hands.  “How did this happen? Was he shot?”

Edith stepped inside and maneuvered herself between the doctor and Cecily.  “Don’t you worry none, doc, I’ll make sure Shane is cared for.  You go on home and tell that sweet wife of yours I said hello.”

Dr.  Martin glanced from one woman to the other with a worried look on his face.  “Edith, I’m sure Cecily here can take care of Shane.  After all you have the mercantile to run.  Unless of course Cecily can take your place at the store.”

Edith’s eyes opened wide in horror.  “I would never allow such a thing to happen.  Why I’d lose all my business.  Perhaps you’re right, Dr.  Martin.  Like you said, this isn’t Shane’s first bullet wound.” She turned and narrowed her eyes as she stared at Cecily.  “You’d best take good care of the sheriff.  I’ll be back in the morning to check up on you.”

Cecily swallowed her words of anger and turned her back on Edith.  “Dr.  Martin, what do I need to do in order to take care of Shane?”

“He’s more than likely to burn up with fever.  Washing him with cool water usually helps.  I’ll be by in the morning to change his bandage.  Oh, he’ll probably be restless, and I need you to keep him as still as possible.  He’ll be fine my dear.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dr.  Martin started for the door and then turned around.  “Come along, Edith, I’ll walk you home.”

Cecily barely heard the door close she was so intent on Shane.  She hurried to the kitchen and splashed cool water into a large bowl, then grabbed a cloth from one of the drawers.  She also lugged in a kitchen chair and set it all beside the bed.  Her heart squeezed as she gazed at him.  Reaching down she tenderly brushed the hair off his forehead.

His eyes popped open and he pinned her in a pained gaze.

“You’re awake,” she exclaimed in surprise, quickly removing her hand from his forehead.

“I’ve been awake.  Edith kept demanding that they take me to her place.  She seems to think she’s the only one who can take care of me.  I gave Dr.  Martin my final instruction to bring me home, and I closed my eyes.  I didn’t feel up to arguing with that woman.  I’m glad she finally left.” He grimaced as he turned his head toward Cecily.

“You’re in pain.  What can I do to help you? The doctor didn’t leave me anything to give to you.” She rubbed her hands helplessly.

“He already gave me something for the pain.  It’s not so bad now that I’m home.  At least I can relax here and know that you’re not the type of woman to fuss over a man.”

Cecily smiled at him, but on the inside she wondered why he thought that of her.  She’d taken care of various family members when they had been sick, and yes she had fussed over them.  Did she seem so changed now?

Leaning over she put her hand on his cheek to gauge whether or not he had a fever.  So far so good, he was still cool to the touch.  “Do you need anything or should I let you get some sleep?” She straightened up and glanced away, his comments about her not fussing bothered her.

“I could use some shuteye.  Make sure the door is locked and get some rest for now.  If I end up with a fever you won’t be getting much sleep I’m afraid, that is unless you let Edith into the house.” He gave her a weary smile and then closed his eyes.

She stared at him for a while, wondering what had happened.  The answers would have to wait until tomorrow.  Rushing to the front door she turned the lock and was satisfied when she heard a click.  She started back toward the kitchen, pausing yet again to check the windows.  After wandering back into Shane’s room, she stared at herself in a small piece of mirror he probably used for shaving.  She looked the same as she always had, but somehow people thought she was different.  She
was
different, but how could they tell by just looking at her? How did he know whether she was the fussy type or not? She could fuss over him if she wanted to.  She put her hands over her heated cheeks and turned away from the mirror.  She couldn’t help what others thought.  What they perceived and what she really was, were two entirely different things, and she didn’t know why Shane’s words affected her so.

She needed to get some sleep because if he ended up with a fever, she’d be awake for some time to come.  She took off her blue dress berating herself for thinking herself pretty while she was wearing it.  It didn’t matter what she wore, she’d always be the woman who’d been kidnapped by the Indians.  Finally, she crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

She thought she was dreaming but when she finally forced her eyes open, she heard Shane groaning.  Quickly, she pushed her covers off and leaped out of bed, hurried into the kitchen, lit the oil lamp and headed into Shane’s room.  There was no need to touch him to know he had a fever.  Sweat poured off his body and his face was tinged red.  His eyes were still closed as he thrashed around groaning.  Thankful for the supplies she’d left in his room, she quickly wet a cloth and began to wipe down his face.  She was going to have to get his shirt off.  Why on earth had they put it back on him? Shaking her head, she began to unbutton the bloody shirt, slowly exposing his hard muscled chest.

She wanted to take the shirt completely off but wasn’t sure if it would  jostle his wound so she decided to leave it on for now.  Carefully, she washed his chest and stomach avoiding his wound.  He was all-male and the sight of him made her mouth dry.  Heat radiated off him, and she was worried.  The house was cold, and he was so hot.  What if she did something wrong and he died? She shook her head, she couldn’t think that way.  She was doing the best she knew how.

She went to the stove, added more wood, and put on some coffee to boil.  She didn’t know what time it was.  It was still very dark outside but she decided this might be her only chance to get a few things done, she went into her room, got dressed then walked out of her room re-braiding her hair.  She stuck her head into Shane’s room to see how he was faring.  His groaning had quieted for the moment, and she sighed in relief.  Some food would probably be good for him when he woke up.  Gathering all the ingredients she needed she put together a simple stew, placed it in a pot and put it on the stove.  Finally, she poured herself a cup of coffee then went back into Shane’s room.  She sat beside him continually bathing his head and chest with cool water. 

He was such a handsome man, a kind man, a man of integrity, and she’d never known another like him.  He’d been good to her, and she planned to fuss over him like no one had ever fussed before, despite his assertion that he didn’t want that.  Of course, Edith’s fussing was probably some form of torture. 

When his face relaxed, he looked so young and carefree, and she bet he had been that way as a child.  Her back began to ache from leaning over him, so she stood, stretching her arms over her head.  She walked to the front door, checked that it was locked and then made herself walk past the windows with only a glance.  Progress.

 

 

****

 

 

It felt like a red-hot branding iron was in his shoulder and he could barely move his arm.  Shane opened his eyes and looked around, relieved to be in his bedroom but bewildered as to why.  Then it came back to him; the saloon, the gamblers, and Old Will.  He groaned, not so much due to the pain as to the amount of time he’d be laid up.  At least he wasn’t in a room above the mercantile.

Cecily walked in looking pretty as a picture in her new blue dress.  She had a mug of coffee in one hand and what looked to be a bowl of water in the other.  She placed the items down on the table next to his bed and took a seat.  He smiled as he waited for her to look at him.  She jumped when she realized he was awake and he almost laughed.  “Have I been out long?”

“Not really just long enough for a good night’s sleep.  You have a nasty fever, though.” She gave him a worried smile.

BOOK: Shane's Bride (Mail Order Brides of Texas #3)
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