Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Turner (19 page)

Pleasant slapped him on the arm. “Stop that, you! I’m being serious.”

“So am I. These are very good.” Benedict reached into the jar for another cookie.

“Zachary’s right, Pleasant,” Darcy said. “We have no means to support ourselves.”

“Which is why we have the men’s camp,” said Grandma as she came out of the patient room.

Pleasant and her brothers stared at her.

“What? It’s not that big a house. Can I help it if we can hear just about everything back there?”

“Grandma, how are Eli and my brother?”

“More or less fine. They’ll both pull through.”

Pleasant sighed in relief. “Can I see them?”

“No, child – let them rest for a spell. You’ll see them soon enough.”

Benedict set the cookie jar back on the worktable. “That’s a relief.” He looked at his brothers, then at Grandma. “What is this men’s camp?”

“It’s where men stay who have no home or steady work yet. They do odd jobs for folks that need help – farming, ranching, building, whatever. After we built the hotel, some of the workers decided they liked it here, and they’ve been here ever since. They work, pool their money and live together in a big bunkhouse outside of town. One of them’s even a full-time cook for the rest. It’s not much, I grant, but it’d be a start for you.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Darcy said. He turned to his brothers. “But what about Daddy?”

“I’m sure he’s fine with Aunt Phidelia,” Pleasant said. “Besides, once you’re established, maybe we can send for them and they can come live here too.”

Michael scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a thought, at least. We’ll see what Quince thinks of it.”

“Quince?” Grandma said. “Egads, you mean there’s more of you?”

“Quince is what they call our eldest brother, Grandma,” Pleasant explained. “Everyone else calls him Major, including myself, half the time.”

“Oh, I see.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door to the patient room. “Well, if my guess is right, I think your older brother will agree to stay.”

“What makes you say that?” Pleasant asked.

Grandma winked at her. “Call it a hunch, child. Now let’s have tea and cookies.”

* * *

“
H
owdy
, sweetie,” Eli rasped, his eyes half-open. He’d regained consciousness, discovered his midsection had been wrapped like a mail package, and asked for his bride. He had no idea how long he’d been out, only that he had to see Pleasant.

She entered, gently sat on the bed next to him and sighed in relief. “How do you feel? Oh wait, that was a stupid question …”

He chuckled. It hurt. “Only natural ya’d ask,” he groaned, trying to keep his voice low. He didn’t have to work very hard at it – he could barely talk as it was. But he didn’t want to risk waking Quince, who was sound asleep on the next bed. “Doc Drake says I’ll be good as new in no time.”

She took his hand and kissed it. “Don’t you ever go out and get yourself shot again!”

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. She had tears in her eyes, and he could tell it was all she could do to hold herself together. He took a breath and slowly let it out. It was enough to get him talking again. “I think … it’s what ya call an occupational hazard, sweetie. Sometimes it cain’t be helped …” He trailed off.

“Don’t talk anymore,” she ordered, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. “We can argue the point later, after you’ve healed up.”

“Yeah, but there’s … somethin’ that cain’t wait.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“Gettin’ married, what else?”

“Married? How can you think about getting married at a time like this?”

Eli smiled weakly. “No time like the present, sweetie. ‘Sides, I want ya with me … while I recuperate. Ya cain’t stay here … wouldn’t be proper.”

She laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it would.” She brushed the same lock of hair away. “Is that what you truly want, Eli?”

“‘Course – how ya gonna take care of me otherwise?”

“Take care of you? Oh my …”

“Ya cain’t expect Doc and Grandma to keep me here, now can ya? ‘Sides, wouldn’t ya rather tend me at home? We wouldn’t have no privacy with yer brother right there in the next bed.”

She stared at him, missing the joke. “Home?”

“Our home …” He really shouldn’t talk anymore. Doc had given both he and Quince some laudanum. Quince succumbed to it more quickly, having had whiskey beforehand, but it was starting to bring him down too.

“You’re right, I would rather take care of you in our home,” she said.

He gave her as much of a smile as he could muster. “Then what are ya waitin’ for, sweetie? Go round up Preacher Jo and bring him here … just … soon as … I …” He caught a glimpse of her smile just before he closed his eyes.

She kissed his hand again. Her lips were warm and soft. He could get used to this. “I will,” she said, her words pure comfort for him as he drifted off to sleep. She really did live up to her name.

“
I
now pronounce
you man and wife,” Preacher Jo said happily. “Pleasant, you may
carefully
kiss your husband.”

Pleasant sat in a chair next to Eli’s bed, his hand in hers as she faced him. She lifted the veil from her face, leaned over, kissed him … and he grimaced. “Oh dear, did I hurt you?”

“Nope,” he said. “Gotta cramp in my leg.”

Several of Pleasant’s brothers laughed, including Quince, who was still in the bed next to Eli’s. “Congratulations to you both. I know I speak for us all when I say I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”

Pleasant smiled at him then blew him a kiss. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Too bad Daddy couldn’t be here to see this,” Michael commented.

“Too bad Rupert couldn’t,” Matt said. “But … he’s not feeling very well.”

Preacher Jo snorted, then quickly subsided.

Eli eyed him. “What?” He quickly studied the faces of his new brothers-in-law. “What’s so funny?”

Benedict was the next to try and stifle his laughter. Harrison and Colin, who had barely managed to squeeze themselves into the room with Sadie and Belle, didn’t even try.

“Will somebody tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eli huffed, then looked at Pleasant in exasperation.

“Well, if you must know,” Harrison replied, “dear Mr. Jerney made the mistake of calling your brother Tom a ‘dirty pie-eater’.”

Eli’s mouth dropped open. “That fool did
what
?”

“Worse, he said it in front of Wilfred, Patrick and I,” Colin said.

Eli covered his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. If he did, it would hurt. He didn’t suffer a broken rib like Quince, but he was sore just the same. “Dirty pie-eater?”

“Where we come from,” Quince said, “that’s actually quite an insult.”

“What does it mean?” Eli asked.

Pleasant glanced at her brothers. “It means … well, it means a stupid country bumpkin. More or less.”

“Poor country folk, huh?” Eli said. He looked at Colin. “I suppose you and my brother made sure he knew pie has a whole different meanin’ ‘round here.”

Colin grinned ear to ear. “Oh yes, we certainly did. He won’t be eating pie for a while, I’m sure.”

Quince glanced at each of his brothers, then at Colin and Harrison. “What exactly does it mean around here?”

Pleasant laughed. “Not what it means back home, that’s for certain.”

Grandma shoved her way through the crowded room. “We do have kind of a special meaning for it here. Back in ‘59, our blacksmith Mr. Berg, fell in love, and like all men trying to forget a pretty face, he sought out a distraction.”

Quince shrugged. “Which was?”

“The saloon, of course,” Grandma said.

“Sounds reasonable,” Quince concurred. “But what does that have to do with pie?”

“Mr. Mulligan and Mr. Berg wound up having a pie-eating contest,” Harrison explained. “Mrs. Dunnigan had baked a dozen or so for the saloon to last the next few days and they … well, ate them all.”

Quince’s hand automatically went to his belly. “Ouch! Six pies apiece?”

“Somewhere around that,” Colin chortled. “I think Patrick gave up at four and a half.

“Mr. Berg was so sick the next day, he had no problem forgetting his love interest. For a few hours,” Grandma concluded.

“So ever since,” Colin said with a smile, “pie has symbolized … er …”

“Manly virtue,” Harrison offered.

“Quite,” Colin agreed. “That is, until your sister recently gave it a new meaning.” He arched an eyebrow at Pleasant and Eli.

“It wasn’t me!” she said in protest. “It was Eli!”

Most of her brothers laughed, having already heard the story from the Cookes. Quince, was left with a puzzled look on his face.

“Where’s that scoundrel Rupert now?” Eli asked.

“In his hotel room, sick to his stomach and waiting for the next stage out of town,” Harrison said. “Judge Whipple ordered him to leave Clear Creek before he caused any more mischief.”

“The judge is here?” Eli asked.

“Sure is,” Grandma said. “He’s likely to stay a few days, seeing as he’s been eating supper with Irene and Wilfred. You know how he loves Irene’s cooking. Besides, he’s still sentencing those scoundrels. Half of them are wanted for more than just robbery and kidnapping an old lady.”

“Thank heaven’s the judge listened to Preacher Jo and sentenced Grandma’s rescuer to community service at the church,” Harrison added.

“Community service?” Eli said.

“Yes, with Preacher Jo and Annie,” Grandma confirmed. “Judge Whipple’s stomach must not be bothering him or the poor lad might have gotten worse.”

More laughter. Eli wanted to laugh too, but didn’t dare. Neither did Quince. The two men exchanged a knowing grimace and did their best to sit still.

“You’re going to stay on, then?” Colin asked the Comfort men as his chuckles calmed.

The brothers turned to Quince, and he nodded. “For a time, yes. I have to heal, and the rest of us want to help Eli and Pleasant with the addition to their house. We’ll do what we can for work and live at the men’s camp as Mrs. Waller suggested.”

“Call me Grandma, for Heaven’s sake! How many times do I have to tell you?”

Quince smiled warmly. “Yes, Grandma.”

“That’s better,” she said. “For a moment I thought I was gonna have to take Irene’s ladle to you.” The room erupted with laughter once more.

“As far as work, gentlemen, we might need some help with the branding in a couple of weeks,” Harrison said. “I’ll talk to our foreman about it.”

The Comfort men glanced at one another. “None of us has ever done ranch work before, Mr. Cooke,” Darcy said. “But we’re willing to learn.”

“You can learn as you go,” Colin said. “There are enough of us to teach you.”

“Now that you gentlemen have that settled,” Grandma said. “I’m going to go slice the …” She grinned like the devil. “… pies.”

Instead of laughing, everyone groaned. Except Grandma, who cackled all the louder and left for the kitchen.

“Belle and I will set the dining table,” Sadie said and followed her.

The men were busy chatting about what work the Comfort brothers could find when Honoria stepped into the room. Her eyes darted to Quince before turning to Pleasant and Eli. “Congratulations!”

“Honoria, there you are,” Pleasant said. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.”

“I was in the kitchen getting the wedding lunch ready.” She glanced at Quince and swallowed. He watched her with a steady gaze. “I’m afraid I didn’t leave a lot of work for Grandma.”

“I’m sure she … appreciates it,” Pleasant noticed her brother had locked eyes on Honoria. “Um … you are staying of course?”

Honoria swallowed again. “Uh-huh.”

Pleasant and Eli looked at Honoria, then at Quince. “Uh-huh,” Eli echoed, then leaned as best he could toward his wife. “And it ain’t for the pie,” he whispered.

Pleasant giggled. “I see that.”

As could Harrison. His head snapped back and forth between the two, noting Quince’s intense stare and Honoria’s wide doe eyes. “Anyone for pie?” he shouted over everyone’s conversations, grabbed his daughter by the hand and ushered her out of the room and into the kitchen.

“Papa!”

“Don’t Papa me, young lady!”

She gaped at him. “What did I do?”

He stared at her. Grandma did too, wondering what all the fuss was about. “Harrison? Is everything okay?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Yes,” he finally said.

“No,” Honoria said. “I want to know why you dragged me out of there. I wasn’t done speaking with Pleasant and Eli.”

Harrison’s eyes skipped between his daughter and Grandma. “I’m sorry, I thought … Grandma needed help.”

“What? I already got everything ready,” Honoria said in exasperation. She shook her head. “May I go back into the room and finish speaking with Pleasant?”

Harrison sighed as he eyed his daughter. “See what they’d like us to put on their lunch plates.”

Honoria nodded, still confused. “I’ll be right back.”

“See that you do,” he said tersely as she left. He started to pace.

Grandma eyed him. “Harrison Cooke, what was that all about?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. It was … overcrowded in there, is all.”

Grandma folded her arms in front of her. “Uh-huh.” She arched an eyebrow and nodded knowingly. “Harrison, you’re just going to have to face it.”

“Face what?” he said as his pacing ground to a halt.

Grandma noticed he’d clenched his fists. “Honoria is not a little girl anymore.”

His jaw tensed as he turned to face her, looking like an angry bull ready to charge. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I’ve seen the way Major Comfort looks at her. And whether you like it or not, Honoria’s looking back.”

“She’s doing nothing of the kind!” He turned away.

“Oh yes she is.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“You might not, son.”

He spun to face her, opened his mouth and shook a finger at her, but had no words at the ready.

“What’s the matter, Harrison? Cat got your tongue?”

He lowered his hand as his shoulders slumped. “I think perhaps you’d better start baking pies. Lots of them.”

Grandma burst into laughter.

“In fact, perhaps I’d better learn how to bake them too.”

“Why’s that?” she asked through her giggles.

“Because I have a strong feeling that pie is about to take on
another
new meaning around here.”

She stopped as she noted his tight jaw and narrowed eyes. “What sort of meaning?”

He met her gaze, his face determined. “Maybe if I eat enough of them, they’ll keep me from having to kill, or at least maim, Major Quincy Comfort.”

Grandma burst into laughter again. “Harrison, stop! We all knew this day would come.”

Harrison growled and marched out of the room just as Sadie and Belle returned from setting the table. “What’s the matter with him?” Sadie asked.

“Child,” Grandma said, “Your husband is about to have his world turned upside down.”

Sadie and Belle looked confused. “How so?” Sadie asked cautiously.

“You just wait and see, Sadie. Just wait and see …”