Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Turner (17 page)

Quince joined him in his amusement and the two began to chuckle.

“Glad to see ya’ve gotten chummy,” Tom said. “Now let’s get down to business. Grandma must be scared to death. The sooner we take care of this, the sooner we can get back to the church.”

“The church?” Matt said.

Quince rolled his eyes. “Have you forgotten our sister is getting married today?”

The young man sighed. “No.”

Quince gave the Turner brothers a solemn nod. “He’ll come around. Now let’s do this.”

Eli and Tom nodded in agreement. It was time to catch some outlaws.

* * *

P
reacher Jo
, Patrick, Wilfred and the rest of the men left behind had posted guards at the doors leading into the sanctuary and the one from the church office outside. No one moved until Doc Drake came and let everyone know that the town had been secured and a posse had taken off after the remaining outlaws.

“Where are my brothers?” Pleasant asked.

“They went with Eli and the Cookes,” Doc Drake told her. “Don’t worry, they’ll be back.”

Her hand automatically went to her mouth as she fought a sob. Her anger at Rupert for chasing her across the country and showing up to ruin her wedding, not to mention what he’d done to her family, had dissipated. Now every man she cared about, save her father, were out there risking their lives to save Grandma Waller and capture a bunch of bloodthirsty brigands.

Half-witted,
bloodthirsty brigands from the sounds of it. Everyone in town now knew the idiots had blown a huge hole in one wall of the sheriff’s office, only to kill some of their own men. Doc Drake and a few others had seen to the dead and were now in the church, taking care of wounded townspeople. Doc Waller was the worst off among the residents, though, and he’d only gotten a few scrapes and bruises.

But would Eli and his posse be as lucky? Would everyone come back unharmed, or would she lose one or more of them? She couldn’t bear it if she did. Her anger at Rupert had blinded her to how much she’d missed her brothers. Their offer to help Eli and the others track down the outlaws also reminded her that, at their core, they were honorable men. Rupert must have spun quite a tale to get them to come along after her. Unless they’d come for another reason …

“Doc Drake! Come quick!” Wilfred cried from his post at the church doors. Most of Clear Creek’s residents had stayed there, feeling it safer than wandering around town or trying to make for home.

“What is it?” he asked as he hurried down the church aisle to the door.

“Look!” Wilfred pointed.

Doc Drake squinted. “Well, I’ll be – it’s Grandma!”

“
Y
eah
, but who’s that with her?” Wilfred asked. “I don’t recognize the horse or the rider.”

“Preacher Jo!” Doc Drake called over his shoulder.

Preacher Jo ran to join them, gun drawn, and peered at the approaching horse. Grandma rode in front of a man. “That looks like one of the outlaws.”

Other guns were immediately drawn and cocked. Doc Drake turned and waved his hands at them. “Calm yourselves. Preacher Jo and I will handle this.”

“Is Grandma all right?” Cyrus Van Cleet asked.

Doc Drake glanced out the door. “She looks fine. Now stay put, everyone.” He stepped outside, unarmed, and waited. Preacher Jo joined him, gun still in hand.

Grandma gripped the saddle horn as the horse trotted up to the church. “Land sakes, Preacher, put that shootin’ iron away!” she scolded.

Preacher Jo did, and exchanged a quick look with Doc Drake. “Grandma? Are you all right?” he asked.

“Thanks to this youngun, I am. He got me away from those bandits and we escaped together.”

“Escaped?” Doc Drake said as the youth brought the horse to a stop in front of them.

“Yessir,” he said. “My brother Teddy forced me to go with ‘em when Lizard blowed the jail up. I told ‘im I didn’t wanna and I don’t want no part of thievin’ no more. So he took the old lady to make me do what he wanted.”

Preacher Jo helped Grandma off the horse as the boy jumped down. “You must be Ninian.”

“Yessir, Ninian Rush. My brother’s the big fella, Ted Rush. Teddy, I call ‘im.”

Preacher Jo put a hand on the youth’s shoulder. “What you did was very brave, Ninian. You rescued a kidnapped woman. We’ll see to it that Judge Whipple takes that into account when he gets here tomorrow.”

“Tomorry?!” the youth croaked and swallowed hard.

“Now don’t go getting yourself worked up over nothing,” Grandma said. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be here.”

“How did you get away?” Doc Drake asked.

“I pertended to join up again,” Ninian said with a shrug. “Teddy ordered me to haul ‘er up to this burnt-out ol’ cabin to wait for him ‘n the others. ‘Stead we got on a horse ‘n rode here.”

Doc Drake and Preacher Jo stared at them for a second before they both burst out laughing.

“Yeah … guess it is kinda funny,” Ninian said shyly. Then he noted the crowd behind them with guns drawn and gulped. “Y’ain’t mad at me, are ya?”

“Of course not,” said Preacher Jo. “You were forced to go with them, and you did what you had to do to protect Grandma. For that the town is grateful.” He turned to the townspeople. “Isn’t that right?”

Guns were shoved back into holsters as the residents of Clear Creek nodded and murmured their agreement. Ninian watched them and sighed in relief.

Pleasant made her way to them. “What about Eli and my brothers?”

“Couldn’t say, ma’am. Grandma ‘n I left just as they got thar. Teddy ‘n the others were tryna figger out what to do.”

“They’ll be back,” Grandma put an arm around her. “If I can survive a gang of outlaws, how much more so the deputy and sheriff?”

Pleasant smiled weakly and let herself be ushered back inside. Doc Drake followed.

Preacher Jo turned back to Ninian. “Let’s go into my office. I have something I’d like to talk with you about.”

“What?”

Preacher Jo smiled. “What if I can fix it with the judge so you have to help me out around here?”

Ninian’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Help out?”

“Call it community service. It would beat going back to jail, wouldn’t it? You did a brave thing saving Grandma, but the judge might still want you to serve some kind of sentence.”

“Ya mean I’d be workin’ for ya? Heck, preacher. That ain’t no sentence, that’d be a pleasure!”

Preacher Jo smiled. “Not a pleasure, Ninian. A blessing.”

* * *

S
everal hours went by
, and still no sign of the posse. Pleasant was beside herself, pacing in the hotel lobby. Polly Van Cleet, a petite woman with a bright countenance, had suggested the bride and the wedding guests – in this case, almost the whole town – take advantage of the wedding supper that had been laid out. The hotel dining room was filled with people eating, drinking and trying their best to be merry under the circumstances.

“He’ll be fine, Miss Comfort,” Lorcan Brody said from his post behind the counter. “You’ll see.”

“How can you know? How can anyone know?” She wrung her handkerchief in her hands. “We haven’t heard a word.”

“If anyone was really hurt, one of them would’ve come back to fetch Doc Drake.”

She spun on him. “One man! He’s only one man!”

“Aye, but he’s the best man if someone’s hurt.”

She stopped and looked at the ceiling. “Of course, he’s the town doctor. But what if more than one man is hurt?”

Lorcan smiled. “Then the good doctor has more than one patient to deal with. He’s done it before. And he has Doc Waller to help him.”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry. This has been a trying day.” She studied the man behind the counter. He was looking right at her, his warm smile still in place. Perfectly normal, except she knew he couldn’t see.

She turned toward the dining room and watched the people of Clear Creek eat and chat. Rupert looked like just another wedding guest, except for being tied to a chair and looking very cross. Irene Dunnigan sat right next to him, ladle in hand, occasionally taking a bite from the plate in front of her but otherwise looking just as perturbed. Every time Rupert spat out a nasty remark, she’d clobbered him with the ladle. Eventually he figured it out and was now being very quiet.

“Clear Creek,” Pleasant whispered to herself. It was a town full of quirky and occasionally irritating residents, but she found the wacky mix had started to grow on her. She suspected she’d have a hard time returning to life in Savannah even if she wanted to.

She again turned to Lorcan behind the counter … and found him
writing!
How could a blind man write with pen and ink? He acted as if he wasn’t blind at all, yet everyone assured her he was. It seemed uncanny.

But then there was Grandma Waller, old enough to be everyone’s grandmother yet had gumption to spare. The Mulligans owned the town saloon, yet served more food than whiskey. The town doctor, she was beginning to suspect, had more than just medical knowledge that helped people get well – people seemed to imply he had some divine gift. And all the Cookes, high-born English men and women now living out west. Everyone out here was some kind of oddity.

And then there was Eli Turner, her betrothed. Living in a tiny shack in the boondocks, barely able to speak the King’s English … and half of a team of heroes who was even now out on the prairie somewhere, risking life and limb for the sake of this little town. “And me,” she added softly.

Her eyes drifted once more to the dining room and the people in it. Clear Creek was now her town; these were the folks she’d call friends and neighbors. She smiled. For all their strangeness, they were the kindest, most caring, bravest people she had ever known. And once she married Eli, she’d be one of them – if she wasn’t already. The runaway from Georgia, one more oddity among the rest.

She closed her eyes and smiled. “And proud of it,” she said to herself.

Lorcan’s head came up. “Ye’re missing yer wedding supper, Miss Comfort.”

Pleasant looked at him and smiled. “You’re right – I should go in. Would you care to join me, Mr. Brody?”

He stood up and stretched. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Pleasant watched him walk around the counter and come right to her. “How do you do that?”

He smiled. “Practice.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

She smiled, took his arm and let
him
lead
her
into the hotel dining room.

They’d no sooner entered when Honoria Cooke ran into the hotel and then the dining room, panting like a winded horse. “Here they come!” she shouted. “They’re … they’re back!”

“Honoria!” Sadie said. “Where have you been all this time?”

“I posted myself … as lookout.” She bent over, hands on her knees, sucking in air. Her hair was a mess, the skirt of her dress torn and dirty. She looked as if she been up a tree, and maybe had.

Henry Fig moseyed in next, also shouting the news – and almost got run over by the townspeople hurrying out. “Wait! Hey – I’m trying to tell you …!”

“Hush up, dear!” Fanny called back. “We already heard!”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Well, consarnit, that just figures!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, hon. Come here and have something to eat.”

When everyone reached the street they saw Eli and Tom Turner leading a ragtag group of bandits, roped together much as they had been the first time they were caught, the infamous Lizard Grunsky and company among them. The Comfort brothers brought up the rear, one listing to one side on his horse as they did.

“Quince!” Pleasant cried and ran toward them. She stopped short at Eli’s horse.

He nodded to her brother. “Yeah, he got hisself shot.”

His casual tone startled her. “You don’t have to sound so … so blasé about it!”

“I ain’t bein’ … well, whatever ya just said, sweetie. I’m tired and …” Now Eli slumped.

“Eli!”

Tom rode up alongside his brother and pulled him up straight, while Harrison quickly unwrapped the rope used to lead their prisoners from around Eli’s saddle horn and gripped it in his hand. “Tom, take them to both to Doc Drake. Hurry! The rest of us will see to these chaps.”

“Eli?” Pleasant cried as Tom jumped from his horse onto the back of Eli’s. She then looked at her brothers. “What happened?”

“We were trying to flush them out into the open,” Benedict explained.

“A few of them managed to sneak behind us,” Colin added as he rode up.

Darcy turned in his saddle and glared at the outlaws. “Quince spotted them, shouted a warning and got a bullet in the shoulder for his trouble.”

“Eli tried to protect him and took one low, just above the hip,” Harrison said. “I have to commend your brothers, Pleasant. They fought bravely and valiantly.”

“Merciful heavens!” She watched as Tom headed down the street toward the doctors’, gripping her betrothed to keep him on the horse.

Major followed with Michael assisting. “Your Eli is lucky it went clean through,” said Michael. “We patched him up as best we could. I hate to be the one to inform you, dear sister, but your future husband is as stubborn as a mule. He insisted he finish his job and haul his prisoners back to town.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood by now,” Major said weakly.

“Both of you have.” Colin maneuvered his horse next to his. “You need to get to Doc Drake straight away.”

“I’m right here, Colin,” Doc Drake made his way through the crowd. “But yes, get him to the house. I’ll take things from there.”

Michael handed Colin his reins, climbed from his own horse to behind the saddle of Major’s, put an arm around his waist to keep him from falling off his mount and took off down the street at a canter.

Honoria, meanwhile, took Pleasant by the shoulders. “Come on, let’s follow.”

Pleasant nodded numbly as Honoria led her to the doctors’ house. Both her intended and her brother were wounded. What if they were worse off than they looked? She bit her lower lip and willed herself not to cry as she headed down the street.

* * *

“
H
e’s lost
a lot of blood, Bowen,” Doc Waller commented to Doc Drake as he examined Eli’s wound.

Bowen Drake deftly examined Pleasant’s brother. “So has this one. Let’s see what we can do to get them patched up.”

They had both men in the patient room at the back of the house. Thankfully they had two beds; otherwise Eli and Major would have to share.

“Where’s Pleasant?” Eli asked, weakly.

“Waiting in the parlor with Grandma,” Doc Waller told him. “You sit tight son, you’re not going anywhere.”

“The wedding …”

“… Can wait. This gunshot wound can’t.” He turned to Bowen. “Hand me those bandages, will you?”

Bowen did, then went back to work on his patient.

“I’m sorry we ruined your wedding, Mr. Turner,” Major said through gritted teeth.