Mail Order Mistake (20 page)

When Patrick stopped the horses, she again jumped dow
n before Patrick could help her
and stood wringing her hands while Patrick helped Wesley down from the buggy.  She
wanted to help, but there was really nothing she could do without getting in the way.

Patrick took him into their bedroom and helped him into bed.  “Can you get him undressed,
or do you need me to help with that?”

Malinda shook her head.  “I can handle it.  Do you want something to eat before you
go home?”
  She didn’t want to waste her time playing hostess with Patrick, but she couldn’t
let him go home hungry.

“No, Ellen doesn’t know what happened, so she’s probably pacing the floors waiting
for me.  Take care of my little brother.”

Malinda nodded, rushing into the room with Wesley while Patrick let himself out. 
She helped him remove his pants, and cut wh
at was left of his shirt off
him.  “Are you hungry?”
  She brushed a stray strand of hair back off his forehead, wishing she knew what
to do to make him better.

Wesley nodded
, stroking his hand up and down her arm. 
“I am.  You didn’t forget to cook dinner tonight, did you?”

Malinda made a face and hurried into the kitchen where the stew was still on the stove
staying warm.  Malinda served two bowls of stew and two glasses of water and carried
them into the bedroom on a tray.  She climbed into bed beside her husband and shared
his meal there on the bed. 
“I’m so thankful you’re okay.”
  She didn’t tell him about the heart stopping panic she’d felt while she’d waited
to find out if he was all right.

Wesley grinned and took a big bite of his stew, chewing it slowly while he watched
her.  “You really were worried, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was worried!  I love you!”
  She hadn’t meant to blurt the words out like that.  The first time they were said,
weren’t they supposed to be kissing or something?

Wesley put his spoon down and stared at her in surprise.  “You do?  Why haven’t you
ever said so?”

She shook her head at him.  “Why did you think I married you when I’m afraid of being
poor if I didn’t love you?  Can you think of another single reason I’d have done it?”
  She made a face at him.

He laughed.  “I guess not.”  He tilted his head to the side.  “You know I love you
too, right?”

“Well, I kind of figured you must to put up with all my nonsense, but I’m glad to
hear you say it.”  All at once, it was as if a dam burst inside her and she started
crying.  “You need to make sure you never get shot again.  Do you hear me?”
  She was shaking with the fear that still coursed through her.

He almost laughed at her abrupt change in mood, but then realized she was serious. 
“I understand.  I’ll be more careful.”

“No more approaching wanted men.  If you think you see one, you find so
meone to go after him with you!” 

He nodded
just to appease her, knowing as a sheriff there was no way he could ever make sure
to do that. 
He reached out and took her hand in his good one, squeezing it.  “It’s going to be
okay.”

She sniffed and wiped her nose with her napkin.  “I couldn’t bear it if something
happened to you.”

“I know.”

“What were you thinking approaching him that way?”
  She glared at him.

Wesley almost laughed at the anger in her voice.  She was going through a full range
of emotions in a matter of minutes.  He knew she was shocked by what had happened,
but he was truly enjoying watching the different emotions tumble through her.  “I
didn’t have time to get someone else.  I had my gun out before I said his name.”

“A lot of good that did you!”  Her face turned gray.  “What if he has friends who
come after you for killing him?  You have to teach me to shoot!”
  She looked around the room absently.  “Where’s your gun?”

Wesley simply shook his head and leaned back against the headboard to watch as she
went from angry to scared and back to angry again.  Over and over she raged at him
and feared for his life.  Finally, he understood his new wife.

“Are you always this worried about things that happen around you?”

She nodded.

“Well, no wonder you were always worried about money.  You need something to worry
about.”  He sighed.  “Are you going to start worrying about money again now that I’m
going to be off work for a few weeks?”

She shrugged, blushing.  “Well, we can use the money I have saved to pay for bills,
but I’ll probably want to replace it as soon as you’re better.”
  She glared at him.  “Right now, you’re the most important thing, though.  You have
to get well.”

He sighed.  “Stop worrying about money.  And stop worrying about me.  We’re going
to be fine.”

After she’d cleaned up their room and washed the dishes, she helped him get comfortable
before settling against his good side. 

“We’re going to be okay.  You know that
,
don’t you?” he asked.  When he didn’t receive an answer right away, he asked the
question again louder.  Only then did he look down and see that his wife was sound
asleep.

*****

Malinda was standing over Wesley with her hands on her hips the following afternoon. 
“The doctor said you were going to rest, and you are going to rest if it kills us
both!  You are not getting out of that b
e
d except to take care of necessities until you’re healed!”
  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.  “You have to get better!”

Wesley glared at her, knowing he was being unreasonable, but unable to handle spending
another moment in bed.  “Just let me sit up in the parlor and read the paper.  I won’t
even get dressed.”

She sighed.  “Fine, but if you try to get off the sofa for any reason, I’ll get your
handcuffs and fasten you to the sofa.  Don’t think I won’t!”
  She gave him a look that was meant to keep him from even thinking about disobeying
her.

She helped him into the parlor and
made sure
that he was comfortable
before running to the kitchen to get him a big bowl of chicken soup.  He’d protested
that chicken soup was for sick people and not for gunshot wounds, but she’d refused
to listen. 

She’d just set the soup on the
small table beside him when they heard a knock at the front door.  “Don’t get up! 
I will handle it.”
  She glared at him when he started to stand, so he sank back down onto the sofa.

She opened the door and peeked outside.  “I’m Steven Bishop, U.S. Marshal.”  He hel
d up a badge for her to look at
and she studied it closely, still somewhat concerned Jim Madden had friends who would
come and find Wesley.

She blinked.  “Are you here to see my husband?”

“Yes, ma’am.  Is he up to visitors?”

She sighed and opened the door wide.  She wanted to tell him to go away, but she knew
Wesley would be upset, and right then keeping Wesley quiet and calm was the most important
thing.  “Come in.”

She led the marshal, a tall man with blond hair and green eyes, to her husband.  “Can
I get you some coffee?”
she asked.

The marshal shook his head.  “No ma’am.  I’ll just be here for a moment.”  He turned
his attention to Wesley.  “The man you killed yesterday was wanted in five states
for bank robbery and multiple murders.  Were you aware of that?”

Wesley nodded.  “I received a wanted poster with his face on it just yesterday.”

The marshal frowned.  “Those posters should have been here over a week ago.”
  He obviously was not happy with the slow mail into Gammonsville.

Wesley shrugged.  “It’s a small town and our mail is notoriously slow.  Doesn’t really
matter, does it?”

“I guess not.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.  “Here’s
your reward.  Five hundred dollars.”

Wesley took it and laid it on the table in front of him.  It was a check in his name,
and that’s all he needed to see.  “Thank you, Marshal.”

The marshal shook his head.  “We appreciate the good work you did bringing him down.” 
He tipped his hat at Malinda.  “Take good care of him.  He saved countless lives by
shooting that man yesterday.”  He nodded at Wesley.  “You have our thanks.”  Without
another word, he left as quickly as he’d come.

Malinda stared at Wesley in shock.  “You didn’t tell me there’d be a reward for shooting
him.”
  Why hadn’t he said anything?

Wesley shrugged, a funny one armed shrug with his other arm still in
the
sling.  “You never asked.”

Malinda looked down at that bank draft.  “I’ll put this up.  Patrick said he’d come
visit you this evening, and he can deposit it for you.”
  She rushed off into the kitchen.

He watched her as she calmly put the check on the work table in the kitchen.  “Why
don’t you seem more excited by the money?”

“I don’t really care about money.  I just don’t want to be destitute.  I already knew
we wouldn’t be, so having more isn’t a big deal to me.”
  She knew people thought she was money hungry, but the truth was, she wasn’t.  Stability
mattered to her, not riches.

Wesley shook his head.  “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

“You don’t have to.  You just have to eat your soup so you can heal.”
  She sat down beside him, and picked up her own bowl of soup so he wouldn’t have
to eat alone.

“You’re being bossy again.”

“You’re being a bad patient again.”
  She took a bite of her soup and smiled at him over the top of her bowl.

“I’m
glad you don’t care about the money.”

“I never did.”

Epilogue

August 1886

Malinda sat back in her chair at the kitchen table as she thought about how she wanted
to respond to the letter she’d just received from Harriett Long.  She was thrilled
with the other woman’s news
,
of course, but it was taking a minute for it all to sink in.

After a moment, she put pen to paper and wrote, “Dear Harriett, Your news has both
stunned and excited me more than I could ever express.  I’m so happy you’ve found
happiness at last.  Over the time I’ve known you, you’ve always seemed as if you were
merely content, but I have finally read true happiness in this letter.  I can’t wait
to tell Ellen.  She’s going to be just as overjoyed for you as I am.  Has she written
since she had the baby?  It was a girl, and they named her Sally.  She’s a perfect
little thing who looks like a porcelain doll.  Jonathan isn’t quite sure what to think
of her, because she’s taking up a lot of attention from his mama that he’d come to
e
xpect
.  Thank God she has
Angela
to help her.”  Malinda looked down at her own rounded belly.  “I have another two
months to go before my little one will arrive, but Wesley and I have decided on names. 
Whether it’s a boy or a girl, we’re naming it after you.  Harry if it’s a boy or Harriett
if it’s a girl.  You have been such a wonderful influence in my life, I couldn’t live
with myself if my firstborn wasn’t named for you.  You’re not only a dear friend,
but you saved Ellen and I from the unknown.  So thank you.  I’ll close now, before
I get tears all over your letter.  Much love, Malinda.”

She folded the paper in thirds and set it aside, getting slowly to her feet to set
the table for dinner.  Wesley would be home any minute.  She couldn’t wait to give
him Harriett’s news.