Lauri Robinson
Evelyn Putnam, thank you for the use of your son’s name.
Steve’s a great guy and you have a lot to be proud of!
“We won’t go.” Mary McCary wrapped her fingers around the bars separating her from Sheriff Willard Freiday and his spit-polished shiny badge. “We simply refuse.”
“You can’t refuse,” he replied.
She squeezed the bars a bit harder as his grin grew as smug as a cat lying in the sun. “Yes, we can. You can’t make us become mail-order brides.”
He shrugged. “No, I can’t, but I do have orders from Mayor Winsted that you two either agree to go to Kansas as mail-order brides or the town will press charges against you.”
Mary kept the growl that rumbled in her throat as quiet as possible. She’d figured all the bottles of tonic that Mayor Winsted’s wife kept buying would eventually get them in trouble, but not so much they’d be jailed, or exiled. Still, that had happened before. Da had gotten them kicked out of towns all across Ohio and a good portion of Pennsylvania. Or they’d left before they could get kicked out. “We didn’t do anything illegal,” she insisted.
“You are behind these bars because you don’t have a permit to sell those bottles of snake oil your father made. I’d have thought that stuff was all gone by now. He’s been dead going on a year.”
Disrespecting her kin was a sure way to get her riled up, but the good sheriff had already done that. “Our father died six month ago, Sheriff, and if anyone is pressing charges, it should be us. That stagecoach ran Da over in broad daylight.”
“Your father was drunk off his own concoction and stumbled in the stage’s path. There was nothing the driver could do. The judge already told you that.”
Her temper made the top of her head burn. “It’s a medicinal tonic. McCary’s Finest Recipe Tonic, and of course the judge says there was nothing anyone could do. He’s the stage driver’s brother. Furthermore, I already showed you Da’s permit. You have it.”
“Which doesn’t have your names on it, does it?”
“This town wouldn’t give us a permit even if we asked,” Maggie piped in.
“My sister is right,” Mary pointed out. “This town has never been overly friendly to any of us McCarys.”
The sheriff grinned. “All the more reason you should appreciate the efforts the mayor is taking. Oak Grove is a growing community in Kansas and needs women to marry some of the already prosperous men settling in that area.”
“Kansas?” Maggie asked. “Where’s Kansas?”
“West,” Mary answered her twin. Questioning if she was correct, she turned to the sheriff. “It’s west of here, right?”
“Yes, Kansas is west of here, and you aren’t the only women making the trip. There will be a dozen young ladies from this area. A Pullman car has been reserved for your trip. You’ll have beds to sleep in, plenty to eat, and of course you’ll be able to explore the sights of many fine cities along the way while the train makes its regular stops.”
“You can sweet-talk us all you want, Sheriff,” Maggie said. “My sister and I aren’t leaving. We are staying right here. Permit or not.”
Mary laid a hand on Maggie’s shoulder. Life had never been easy, but they’d gotten used to living in a house this past year. Granted the house was owned by the city and every month the sheriff stopped by to collect the rent, which wasn’t always easy to come by. Da had sold enough tonic to cover the bills, but since his death, she and Maggie had had to supplement their income by placing friendly bets they could pick the right card out of the deck or find the rock under the correct cup. It wasn’t too hard to collect a few dollars from local men. The McCary sisters’ shiny black hair and sky-blue eyes was the reason. They’d inherited that from their mother. At least that was what Da always said. However, those dollars were getting harder to come by considering the sheriff didn’t approve of the betting games any more than he did the selling of their tonic. Maybe it was time they moved on.
“I’m not becoming a mail-order bride,” Maggie said. “Marrying a man I don’t know and then living with him the rest of my life. I’m only nineteen. That could be a long time.”
Being twins, they could practically read each other’s minds, and that was what Mary took into consideration right now. The town owned the house they rented, and could evict them as easily as they’d been arrested. They’d had to sell their wagon to pay Da’s funeral bills, so an eviction would leave them completely homeless.
Lifting a brow, she looked directly into Maggie’s eyes. “Marriage is only until death do we part,” Mary said. There were plenty of towns between Ohio and Kansas where they could part from the others, and a fresh start might be exactly what they needed.
A smile formed on Maggie’s face. Mary’s too.
The sheriff cleared his throat, but the way his gaze shot between her and Maggie was enough to make Mary want to giggle.
“You are right, dear sister,” Maggie said. “Until death do we part.”
“You girls—”
“We’ll accept your offer, Sheriff,” Mary interrupted. “When does the train leave?”
Oak Grove, Kansas.
Steve Putnam flipped the reins of his big gray gelding over the hitching post outside of the Wet Your Whistle Saloon and stepped up on the boardwalk in order to get out of the cloud of dust being swirled up along the main street of town. A parade of wagons, buggies and people on horseback and afoot was the cause. All headed in one direction. The train station. The last place you’d find him today. In his opinion, the entire town had gone loco over this mail-order bride scheme.
Turning about, he headed toward the batwing doors of the saloon. The “Closed” sign didn’t stop him from pushing the doors apart and letting them swing shut behind him.
The sight of Chris and Danny Sanders dressed in their Sunday best had Steve pushing the brim of his hat up in order to take a second look at the cousins walking toward him.
“Sorry, Steve, we’re closed,” Danny said. “Didn’t you see the sign?”
“Why?” Steve asked, not bothering to say he’d seen the sign.
“The women are arriving today,” Chris answered.
Taken