Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six) (7 page)

Bran let go a low whistle. “Watch it me boy, or ye'll catch yerself falling for the lass.”
But she is pretty…

Bran returned to town with nothing to report after his rounds. He filled out some paperwork for Sheriff Hughes, laid it out where he could find it in the morning, and decided to head across the street to Mulligans for supper. “I hear she can't cook anyway,” he muttered to himself as he entered the saloon. “Not like Mary here can.”

Speaking of which, Mrs. Mulligan looked up from behind the counter and smiled. “There you are! Come here lad, I've made your favorite sandwich!”

“Thank you, I'm much obliged. Where's that husband of yers? Why isn't he minding the counter?”

“He's upstairs pouting because he lost this week to Harlan and Wilfred at checkers. But he'll get over it and be down soon enough.”

Bran laughed. “I've never seen a town so serious about checkers before. I'm glad I don't play. It keeps me out of trouble.”

“Oh, let the men have their fun. Besides, we women keep them out of trouble.”

“Including Sheriff Hughes?”

“Harlan is like part of the family, so of course we look after the man.”

Bran eyed the sandwich she placed in front of him, and his stomach growled. “Then it's a good thing I don't play checkers, there's no one to keep me out of trouble. He looked at her. “At least I have you to cook for me now and then, and the Upton woman at the hotel.”

“And don’t forget Irene,” she pointed out. She leaned against the counter and studied him as he picked up the sandwich and began to eat. “Why don't you think about getting married, Bran? You're a fine, brawny lad, and deserve a good wife.”

He chewed and swallowed. “There are no women around, how am I to get married?”

“Don't give me that! You know there's one, and she's had a hard week because of you.”

“She's had a hard week?” he said and put the sandwich down. “What about me? I'm the one that almost died!”

“Aye, and she’s the one having to carry the guilt of it, not you. Have you forgiven her yet?”

He swallowed the last bite he took and stared at her.

“You haven't, have you?” she asked, hands on hips.

“I'll get around to it,” he told her and picked up the sandwich.

Mrs. Mulligan snatched it out of his hand before he could open his mouth. “You'll tell her first thing tomorrow!”

“My… my sandwich!”

“Aye, and it's the last sandwich I’ll ever make you until you tell that poor wee lass that you forgive her for what happened!”

Bran sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll ride out to the Triple C tomorrow and tell her.”

“Promise?”

“Aye,” he said with a grimace. “I promise. Now can I have my sandwich back?”

She handed it back. “There, see that you do. Then maybe the two of you can court.”

“Court!”

“Why not? She's a pretty wee thing, don't you think?”

“Aye, but so does every other man in town.”

“All the more reason you should be first in line to court her. After all, you two have something in common.”

“What?”

“Banking,” she said with a wink.

Bran groaned. “That was awful,” he commented.

“I could have said safes,” she pointed out. “Now finish your sandwich, you'll feel better after you do. And you'll feel
much
better after tomorrow.”

He stared at the food in front of him, then looked at Mrs. Mulligan. “Aye, I suppose so. They say forgiveness cleanses the soul. I’m just not sure if mine is clean enough for the likes of her.”

Seven

The next morning, as Bran rode out to the Triple C, he thought about what Mary Mulligan had put into his head the night before. Should he court, Apple Sayer? And if he did, where would it lead? Of course, he knew where it
should
lead, but did he really want to go there? Was he ready for marriage? Perhaps if he spent a little more time with the lass, he'd be able to figure out if getting married was what he really wanted to do. But shouldn't he figure that out
before
he started spending time with her? After all, didn't women get it into their heads that if a man spent
any time with them, it meant they were interested in getting married?

“I've got to figure out what to do, Grady,” he told his horse. “And I'd better figure it out fast.” He reined in the animal and looked at the ranch spread out before him. “Now there’s a bonny site,” he whispered to himself. He sat and stared at the Cooke’s spread a moment before he urged Grady to start walking again. He’d have plenty of time to think about marriage, he didn't have to dwell on it today. After all, he was there to apologize for his actions and then forgive the Sayer girl for locking him in the safe. He wasn't there to propose.

Bran reached the barnyard, dismounted, and led Grady to the front of the house and a hitching post. He tethered the horse then stepped onto the front porch and knocked on the door. Belle Cooke answered. “Deputy O'Hare, what brings you out here? I'm sorry, but the men are out tending the stock.”

“That's all right, Mrs. Cooke, I'm not here to see your husband or Harrison. I've come to see Miss Sayer.”

“Ohhh,” she said with a raised brow. “I see, won't you come in?”

“Thank you,” he said as she stepped aside and swung the door wide. He stepped into the foyer and looked around. He'd never been inside the Cookes’ ranch house before and didn't expect it to be quite so… grand.

“That's right, you've never been here before have you?” Belle asked as he openly gawked.

“No, Mrs. Cooke, I haven't. You’ve a mighty nice place here.”

“Yes, well, Sadie's father had a lot to do with it. He's a very generous man, Horatio Jones.”

“So I've heard. Might I see Apple… er… Miss Sayer?”

Belle smiled. “I think it's all right if you call her Apple.”

Bran took off his hat and twisted it nervously. He should have referred to her as Miss Sayer all along. Now the woman probably thought he was there to court the girl, just like Mary Mulligan suggested.

“Deputy O'Hare,” a voice called from down the hall. He turned to see Sadie Cooke coming toward him. “What brings you here?”

“He's here to see Apple,” said Belle with a wink.

Sadie grinned. “Really? Well then, let me go fetch her for you.”

Bran wanted to groan but didn't dare. The women might think it rude and that he didn't want to see Apple. Of course, with the way these two are acting, maybe he shouldn't see Apple!

Sadie hurried up the stairs and disappeared. Within moments, Apple appeared on the landing and stared down at him. He wasn't sure if the look on her face was one of surprise, or dread. He supposed he was about to find out.

She’d started down the staircase. “Deputy O'Hare, what a… pleasure.”

Bran continued to twist his hat, caught himself, and stopped. “Miss Sayer, I'd like to speak with you for a moment if I may.” His eyes darted between Belle and Sadie, who both had wide smiles on their faces. “Is there some place we can talk?”

Apple looked from Bran, to the women, and back. “The parlor will do.” She motioned to the parlor off to their right.

“I’ll make us some tea,” Sadie called after them.

“Deputy O'Hare, would you like some cookies or perhaps something more substantial to eat?” asked Belle.

“Cookies and tea will suit fine, ma'am, thank you,” he told her and then turned and watched as Apple preceded him into the parlor and sat in a chair. He could either find another chair, which of course was across the room from her, or plant himself on the settee next to her. He could then speak with her without having to call across the room. He felt like it was going to be harder than he thought to apologize, and figured his best course of action would be to keep his voice low. He sat on the settee and put his hat beside him.

“Well?” she began. “What do you want?”

“Miss. Sayer, I've come to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For my rude behavior last week when I found you. I wasn't exactly in the best of moods, as you can well understand.”

“I suppose if I almost suffocated in a safe, that would make me a little cranky too.”

He looked at her with a half-smile, and she stared back, but said nothing. “Well…”

“Well what?”

He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry for the way I acted.” She continued to stare at him, and still said nothing. “I'm sorry Miss Sayer.”

“You already said that.”

“Do you forgive me?” There, he asked it.

“That depends…”

She couldn't possibly be serious, could she? “On what?”

“Do you forgive me?”

Of course, he knew she’d ask that. He looked at his hat and fingered the rim with one hand. “
I
was rude.
You
almost killed me.”

“So, I'm supposed to forgive you for being rude, but you don't have to forgive me for half-killing you, is that it?”

He rubbed his temple with one hand. “No, Miss. Sayer, that’s not it. I came here to tell you I'm sorry for the way I acted when I found you. I was upset. I should have treated you with more… well I should have treated you better.”

“And I'm sorry I locked you in a safe.”

“I… um…” Good grief! Why couldn't he say it? He
did
forgive her, didn't he? “I…”

“You what?”

“Well, I…”

Sadie entered the parlor with the tea tray, and set it on a small table in front of the settee. Without a word, she poured them each a cup, smiled, and left the parlor. Apple turned back to face him. “You were saying, Deputy?”

“Do you forgive me?”

“We could do this all day long, if this keeps up,” she said in a flat tone

“I forgive you!” he blurted in a rush.

She jumped in her chair and stared at him. “Do you,
really
?” she asked in a small voice.

He could only stare back. He’d said the words, but did he mean them? And why was he having such a hard time with this? He wanted to forgive her at this point and didn't think he was mad at her anymore. So what was the problem? “I'm sorry,” he said, though he knew those weren’t the words he meant to say. Again he had to ask himself, why wasn't he able to?

“Clearly you haven’t forgiven me, or you wouldn't be struggling the way you are. If you're still mad at me, then why are you here?”

“I came to apologize…”

“And expect me to forgive you, but you won't forgive me.”

“I said, I did!”

“Well you don't sound very convincing, if you ask me. And I'm sure you didn't sound that way to anyone else in this house.”

“No one else heard me but you!”

“Did you hear him say that?” she yelled toward the hall.

“He didn't sound very convincing to us, either,” Belle shouted back from the kitchen.

“You see, I told you,” she said with a shrug.

“They’re
listening
?”

“How can they not? We’re arguing aren’t we? One usually raises their voice when arguing with another person.”

Bran slapped his forehead with one hand, and rubbed his face a few times. “Unbelievable! Why did I ride out here?”

“That's a very good question, I'd like to know that too.”

He suddenly stood, and hit the table with his knee. Tea sloshed out of their cups, and onto the tray and tabletop. “I'm leaving. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Miss Sayer!”

“Oh! Look at the mess you've made!”

“I'm
sorry,
will
you forgive me?” he said, and tried to keep the mocking sound out of his voice. It didn’t work.

“Well you don't have to get so upset about it! And if it's any consolation, I forgive you for being rude and for making a mess!”

“Good!” He shoved his hat onto his head, turned and headed for the hallway.

“Oh, fine, you take my forgiveness and you leave without giving me yours?” she yelled after him.

He stopped in the foyer, turned, and with an accusing finger, pointed at her. “
You
are the most infuriating woman I have ever met!”

“And
you
are the most infuriating, stubborn man
I
have ever met!”

“I'm leaving!”

“Good, get on out of here!”

“I will!”

She stood and stared at him. “Then why aren’t you going anywhere?”

He suddenly realized he hadn’t moved. He also realized that he didn't want to. Good grief! What was
this
all about? “Fine, I'm really leaving now!”

“You do that! I'm going to have tea and cookies by
myself
!”

He stared at the tray on the table, and stomped over to it. “These are mine,” he said as he snatched up a few cookies and waved them in front of her. “Good day, Miss Sayer!”

He turned, strode to the front door and opened it. “I'm sorry!” He left, slammed the door behind him, then stomped his way to his horse. He untied Grady, put the cookies in his shirt pocket, and quickly mounted. He then kicked his horse and cantered away. Good grief! What just happened? He rode to the top of the rise, turned Grady around and stared at the ranch below him. “Oh, no,” he groaned as realization dawned. He
liked
Apple Sayer. He liked her a lot.

* * *

“What was that?” asked Sadie as she and Belle came into the parlor.

Apple sat down and stared at the empty foyer. “I don't know, but he did take some cookies.”

“This isn't about cookies,” said Belle.

  Apple refilled her teacup, ignoring the mess on the tray. “He also said he was sorry for being rude to me.”

“Oh dear, will you look at that,” said Sadie as she said noticed the spilled tea. “I better get a rag to wipe that up.” She turned and left to get what she needed.

“Was he rude?” inquired Belle.

Apple looked at her as she took a sip of tea. She set the cup down. “He wasn't the nicest individual that day.”

“Did you forgive him?”

“You heard me, didn't you?”

“Yes and no, the way you two kept going back-and-forth. Part of it we couldn't help but hear, and so when you asked…” Belle put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “We couldn't help but yell back.” She lost her battle and giggled anyway.

Apple joined her. “That
was
funny wasn't it?”

“I can't imagine what he thinks of us now,” commented Belle as she sat on the settee. She picked up a cookie. “I'm sure he'll be back.”

“You really think so?” asked Apple. “After all that was said?”

“Of course, look at how long it took him to leave.”

Apple smiled. “You have a point, but why did he stay? Especially since he was so mad at me?”

Belle’s mouth started to drop open but she snapped it shut. It was still full of cookie. “You mean you don't know?” she asked, a hand over her mouth.

“Know what?” asked Sadie as she came into the parlor to clean up the mess.

Belle swallowed the last of her cookie. “Apple was just asking me why Deputy O’Hare stayed so long, even though they were having a disagreement.”

Sadie looked between the two of them. “He likes you, Apple. It's as plain as day.”

“Wha …what?” Apple sputtered and stood. “Likes me? I thought he hated me!”

“Hardly,” said Sadie as she mopped up the mess.

“This is terrible!” cried Apple as she came around the table and began to pace the parlor.

“What's so terrible about it?” asked Belle. “Wouldn't you rather he like you than be mad at you?”

“No!” said Apple is she spun to face her. “He can't like me!”

Sadie stood up straight. “Why not? He's a handsome, eligible…,” she looked to Belle “… bachelor!”

“Exactly!” Belle said and stood. “And he'd be perfect for you, Apple!”

“No! You can't! I won't let you!”

“Apple Sayer, what has gotten into you?” asked Sadie. “He's a wonderful match, and obviously very fond of you—in his own hot, Irish-tempered sort of way…”

“I don't care, I don't want him to like me!” exclaimed Apple.

Belle sent Sadie a worried look, then took in Apple’s furious pacing. “Apple, what if one of the other men in town wanted to court you?”