Mail Order Misfit (Brides of Beckham) (13 page)

Her face drained of color when she saw who was there.  John.  She swallowed hard as she looked up into his angry eyes.
  He must have heard back from Elizabeth and blamed her for whatever had been said.  "John.  How can I help you."  She didn't let her eyes drift over to where the shotgun was, but she was happy she had a rolling pin in her hand.  It may be a cliché female weapon, but it was sturdy, and she could defend herself with it if need be.

"Did you tell the mail order bride woman not to send me another bride?  Why are you trying to ruin my life?"  He stalked across the room toward her, and she held tightly to the rolling pin in her hand, afraid, but not willing to show it.
  "Every time I turn around you're acting like you're better than me somehow.  You won't give me the biggest piece of cake.  You tell your friend not to send me another bride.  Did you forget that I paid for your train ticket out here?"

"I'd be happy to reimburse you for the train ticket.  Do you remember what it cost?" she asked, hoping that would appease him.

"I don't want the money.  I want a wife.  How are you going to get me a wife?"  John's voice had raised in volume to the point where she was certain he was out of control.  He was obviously very angry with her.

"I did not tell her not to send you another bride.  I did tell her what happened between us, and she came to her own conclusions about sending you another bride."  She kept her voice calm and even as she spoke to him, trying to keep him from getting even angrier than he already was.
  An angry John was not something she wanted in her home while Colin was out on the range.  She had no idea if he was close enough to hear her scream, and was too afraid of angering John more to try it.

He walked around the table, glaring at her.  "You come out here, with your limp and
your innocent eyes and keep me from getting a wife.  Who do you think you are that you get to do that?"  He looked over at the work table.  "By all rights those pies should be mine.  I shouldn't have to beg to get a small piece of cake that Colin decides is good enough for me."

Elaine watched him stalk across the room, she followed him toward the work table.  "I could get you a piece of pie if you'd like."  She still clutched the rolling pin, knowing she wasn't close enough to the shotgun to grab it and do herself any good at all.
  If only she were faster on her feet!

He grabbed the rolling pin from her hand while she was distracted and threw it across the room.  He sat down at the table and smiled at her.  "Yes, get me a piece of pie.  Just like you get Colin pie and cake and whatever else he wants."

Elaine served him a piece of pie and went back to the work table.  She inched toward the shotgun.  She didn't feel safe being there alone with him, even though he hadn't really done anything threatening except act strangely and yell a bit.  Of course, he'd stolen her only protection from her, but did that mean he planned to hurt her?

He watched her.  "You going to try to get that gun?  I promise you, I'm a lot faster than you are."  He looked at her for a moment as if seeing her for the first time.  "You know, I never noticed it before, but you are a pretty little thing. I think I see what Colin likes about you."
He stood up and walked toward her, his eyes filled with anger. Elaine put one hand, unnoticed, on the only weapon she had access to. John strode toward her and put an arm around her waist and started to draw her towards him roughly. With a flash, she shoved her weapon into his face.

He staggered backward
a couple of steps, trying to clear cooked blueberry and dough from his eyes while she scrambled toward the gun. By the time he could see clearly, he was staring into the barrel of a loaded shotgun.  She could see that he was shocked a lame woman like she was had been able to move so quickly. 

“H
a! You think you scare me with that thing? I’m surprised you even know which way to point it, you stupid, gimpy woman. You don’t have the gumption to shoot a squirrel.”  He reached toward her, making it clear that she was either going to have to shoot him, or he was going to take her weapon away.

Elaine knew he was right. She didn’t want to shoot anyone. But she also knew that she was finally
with a good man, and she wasn’t willing to let anyone take her happiness away from her.  She closed her eyes as she squeezed the trigger, saying a silent prayer that she'd hurt him enough to keep him from coming after her, but not enough to kill him.  She didn't want to kill anyone!

John w
as laughing as he lunged toward her, the taunting smile was frozen on his face as the report of the gun blast coincided with blood gushing from his chest. Laughter turned to shock as he looked down at his own his chest, clutching it as he collapsed to the floor.   The little gimp had killed him.

*****

Colin was mending fences, once of his least favorite chores on the ranch, when he heard a single shotgun blast. He felt a sense of dread wash over him as he immediately thought of Elaine and that idiot John. He had no way of knowing whether it was her or not, but he had to assume it was.  Without thinking, he jumped on his horse and began running full speed back toward the house.  Even if nothing was wrong, he'd rather look like an idiot than have his wife hurt while he just stood there and kept working.  He prayed the whole way.

*****

Elaine had removed her apron and was applying pressure to the wound as best she could, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Not that it would do any good. She couldn’t get him into town by herself. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, this man was going to die, and she knew it was her fault.  The tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought to save him.  He was a bad man, but no one deserved to die in such a brutal way.  She would never be able to live with herself if he died.  She knew she was sobbing, but she couldn't help it.

Colin
heard her sobs from outside, and was thrilled she was alive, but more worried than ever.  Was she lying on the floor injured?  He opened the door and froze. He realized immediately what must have happened, but he was torn between letting the jackass die and helping his wife save his miserable hide. His decision was made for him when she pleaded, “Help me!”  He couldn't let him die and force his wife to live with the guilt that came with killing a man.  Her tear ravaged face spurred him into action.

A few minutes later John was loaded
in the back of the wagon, and they were headed to town. Colin drove as fast as he could while Elaine knelt in the back, applying pressure to John’s wounds.  Her knee was screaming at her to get up, but she couldn't.  If she had to do herself further injury to save a man's life, then she had no choice.  Her pain was nothing in comparison to the sanctity of life.

Colin pulled up in front of the doctor's office, and yelled at a man standing on the boardwalk, just staring at them.  "Help me with him!"
Why did people stand like they were idiots in a crisis? 

The
two worked together to carry John inside, while Elaine sat in the back of the wagon, her face in her hands, and her entire body covered with blood. She was shaking dramatically with the sobs the wracked her body. She knew that she would have to burn everything she was wearing, because there was nothing she could do for the blood stains that covered the front of her dress.  How could she ever look at the garment again and not thinking of taking a man's life.

Colin left John with the doctor and ran back out to his wife, gathering her against him and holding her tightly.  "Did he hurt you?"
  He couldn't believe he'd been so focused on John that h hadn't thought to ask his wife if she'd been injured yet.  What was his problem?

Elaine sniffled and shook her head.  "No.  He didn't get the chance."
  She could see that Colin was worried, but she was fine.

"What's the blue all over his face?  He looked like he's covered in blueberries."
  He was confused as to what had happened to the other man.  The blue couldn't have been from the shotgun blast, though.

Elaine's eyes met his, and she inappropriately felt laughter building up inside her.  "He took my rolling pin away and told me I'd never reach the shotgun before he did.  He tried to touch me, so I threw a pie in his face, and while he was getting
the blueberry out of his eyes, I ran for the gun."  She couldn't figure out why she suddenly found the way she'd protected herself so amusing, but she did.

Colin
pulled her face into his chest and stroked her hair, which had come out of its usually neat knot and was cascading down her back.  "You did the right thing.  But did you have to use
my
pie?  Blueberry's my favorite!"  He shook his head, wondering why after the chaotic events of the day, he was worried about a lost pie.

Elaine let out a wild giggle.  "I knew it would keep him from being able to see.  Besides, I'd already given him a piece of the apple."  She thought about the cinnamon rolls that were ruined as well.  "I was making you cinnamon rolls, but he came in without knocking.  He was angry because Elizabeth told him she wouldn't send him another bride, and he acted crazy."  She shuddered, clinging to Colin, putting weight on her leg for the first time since she'd knelt the whole way to town, surprised that it held her.

Colin looked down at her, his eyes searching hers.  "You're sure he didn't hurt you?"  He would go into the doctor's office and strangle him if he'd hurt her in any way.  No man should ever touch his wife but him.

She shook her head.  "No, he didn't.  My leg hurts a lot now, because I knelt the whole way into town, but he never had a chance to hurt me."  She sighed.  "I hope he lives.  I hate the idea that I could have killed a man."
 

"Even a man like John who really wouldn't be missed by anyone?"  Colin shook his head at her soft-heartedness, but he knew that if she were any other way, he wouldn't love her nearly as much as he did.

Elaine nodded. "Even a man like John.  He must have a mother somewhere!"  She looked toward the doctor's office, wondering what was going on.  "Do you think he'll live?"  She hoped he would, even if it was just to stand trial for his crimes.  She didn't want to be responsible for his death.

Colin shrugged.  "I really don't know.  Let's go talk to the doc and find out."  He had his arm firmly around her shoulders as he led her into the doctor's office.  John was laid out on the table and had been stripped to the waist while the doctor used a tweezers to pluck the shot from his chest.

"You the one who shot him?"  The doctor looked up at her as she stepped into the room, obviously curious about a woman who could shoot a man.

"Yes, I shot him.  He was going to hurt me."  Elaine clenched her hands together.

"You saved his life too, keeping him from bleeding more. You did a good job.  I'm almost done here, but I'm sure he'll live.  Of course, he'll spend the rest of his life in prison after what he tried to do to you, but that's better than dead, right?"  He took out the last of the shots, and dropped the tweezers.  He walked to the sink and washed his hands, using soap and water. 

"Thank you for helping him," Elaine whispered.  She was too shocked by what had happened to know what to say.  The doctor had automatically believed her story, which surprised her a little. 
John must truly have a bad reputation in town for everyone to believe a newcomer like her without even letting him tell his side of things.  "How long will he have to stay here?" she asked.

The doctor shrugged.  "With his history, I'm sure the sheriff is going to come get him and take him off to stay in the jail.  I'll check on him, but they won't want him to stay here at all."
  The doctor seemed to think that was for the best.  He obviously didn't want John around any longer than necessary.

"Will I need to talk to the sheriff?"

The doctor nodded.  "That's a good idea.  Just go do it now and get it over with.  No one is going to be surprised, considering who was shot.  John's not exactly an upstanding citizen."

Colin led her out of the office and down the street toward the sheriff's office.  "Is your leg going to support you?  Or do you want me to get the wagon and drive you?"  He kept his arm around her waist as they walked, obviously afraid to let her get more than a few steps from him.

"I can walk.  I'm really surprised that it's holding up as well as it is.  I think all the exercise it gets from cooking and cleaning has been good for it."  She was so glad he was holding her so closely, though.  She wasn't sure her legs would carry her otherwise, and it had nothing to do with her injury.  She was still feeling very shaky after the events of the day.

He opened the door to the sheriff's office for her, and Sheriff Goodman took one look at the state of Elaine's dress and got to his feet.  "What happened?"
 

Elaine sank into the chair in front of his desk and took a deep breath.  "I need to start at the beginning."
  Her hand automatically went to her bad leg, massaging it through her dress.

The sheriff held up a hand.  "Sounds like a long story.  I need to know if there's anyone dead or if I need to get the doc before you start."

Colin shook his head.  "No one's dead, and the injured man is with the doc now."  Colin answered the questions quickly, knowing the sheriff wouldn't be able to listen to the story his wife was about to tell him if he had to worry about whether or not a man was dying.