Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) (27 page)

Although Mrs. Proctor’s conclusions were closer to right than anyone thought. And he was
so
very good.

“Yes,” agreed Rayburn, Oreana’s telegrapher. “We ought to be counting our blessings, not worrying about propriety.” He turned to Daisy. “Welcome back, Miss Gardner.”

Someone cleared his throat at the back of the store. Heavens, there must have been a dozen people there! The room erupted in cheers and greetings as people crowded around her. She hugged them all, then she searched out the marshal, who stood by her mother.

“Ma’am, I need to talk to Mr. Gardner.”

The crowd quieted and all stared at him expectantly. He didn’t say a word, but waited for her mother to answer.

“He went looking for our daughter, but he said he’d be back for dinner.”

The marshal nodded. “I’ll catch him later, then.” He walked to the door and opened it.

“Marshal,” her mother called, “be at our house at noon for dinner.”

He smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to Daisy, then left.

Daisy felt like part of her left with him, the store seemed so empty. But she didn’t have much time to think about it, because no sooner had her fiancé left, Sarah ran in.

“Daisy!” Her eyes were bright as she hugged Daisy. “I’m so relieved! Let’s get you to the house so you can get cleaned up.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Besides, I have a surprise for you.” She smiled, conspiratorily.

Daisy’s mother nodded. “You best run a bath—there’s hot water in the reservoir. I’ll be home as soon as Grace and I get things straightened up here—she’s minding the store during dinner.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She kissed her mother on the cheek on the way out.

“I’m so thankful to be out of there!” She said to Sarah. And that wasn’t the half of it. A dozen sets of prying eyes had made her uneasy, especially since the accusations in them were right on the mark.

“You look like you needed a little rescuing.” Sarah giggled. “Again.”

They hurried to the house. Somehow, it looked different now, and Daisy realized it was because she wouldn’t be living here anymore. Her place would be with Marshal Adler—or maybe she should call him Sidney. She smiled. The marshal just didn’t look like a
Sidney
, and she didn’t think she’d ever get used to calling him that.

Sarah unhooked the laundry tub from the back porch and brought it in. “Get your clothes off—I’ll fill your bath for you.” She picked up a bucket. “And hurry. I want to know
everything
!”

A few minutes later, Daisy sat in the tub. The warm water slid over her skin in the most wonderful way, and reminded her of the marshal’s kisses. Heat tingled in embarrassing places, and she was glad Sarah had run to her house to fetch the surprise she’d whispered about earlier.

She scrubbed the alkali dirt from her hair, then hurried her bath, since without Sarah, there was no one to ward off intruders. Just as she had dried and put on her robe, Sarah came in, carrying a large bag in one hand, and her sewing kit in the other.

“I spent all day yesterday working on your wedding dress and I fully expect you’ll be needing it soon.” She giggled. “You did get the marshal to propose, didn’t you?”

“Sure did.”

“Oh, Daisy!” Sarah dropped her bags and hugged Daisy. “Congratulations!” She cocked her head. “So tell me, did you have to, uh
…
”

Daisy sighed at the best memory of her entire life. “And he’s the right man for me, too. I mean, not just because he’s the marshal, although that was a requirement, but he’s just so—so—”

“Handsome?”

“Well, he is that, but what he does
…
Oh, Sarah, you just can’t imagine how he makes me feel.” She sighed again.

“Here, see what I’ve done so far.” Sarah rummaged around in the large bag and lifted out a white silk dress. “It’s only basted together for the fitting.”

Daisy couldn’t believe the beauty in Sarah’s creation. “It’s beautiful!”

“It’ll be ready for the fitting in a few days. All I want to know is, are you absolutely certain this man’s the one?”

Smiling, she took the dress and held it up to herself. “Every night of my life will be brighter than the Fourth of July fireworks.”

Sarah took the dress and folded it. “You certainly know your mind, Daisy Gardner. You set out to marry the marshal, and you’re almost there. Now you can forget about all that detective stuff you talk about all the time and concentrate on making a nice home and family for your husband.”

Daisy didn’t answer, only shrugged. She didn’t plan on spending her days slaving over a hot stove or painting stupid little flowers on pillowcases. No, she could be a real detective now!

Cole was nervous as a pup in a grizzly’s den as he knocked on the
Gardners
’ door. He’d have a lot of explaining to do to her father, and eventually he’d have a whole lot more explaining to do to her. On the other hand, he couldn’t quite quell the happiness inside, either. After all, the finest woman in the country had just agreed to marry him.

Meantime, he had to get her hitched to him soon so they could leave. The hell with the miners, and to hell with the Sinker Creek ranch. Thomas would have to deal with the miners and the water problems himself.

Aw, damn, that was bullshit and he knew it. He could no more abandon his brother than he could leave Daisy—or stop breathing. He’d made commitments, and he had to live up to them or die trying—which was entirely possible.

But he didn’t want to die. For the first time in years, life was worth living.

Meantime, he’d have to keep an eye on the odd-looking little man he’d just met—a short skinny fellow with a head too big for his body. He wore a derby, not common around these parts, and walked with a limp. He must be new in town—Daisy hadn’t known of him. Cole hadn’t liked the way the man studied them, and wondered just what the hell he was up to.

Daisy opened the door, the very sight of her smiling face making his heart thump. She had on that silly hat with the garden planted on it, and a plain, blue calico dress that only emphasized her beauty. He wanted to hold her and kiss her right there at the front door. Instead, he removed his hat and smiled.

“Come in, marshal,” she backed up and opened the door wider. “Dinner’s on the table. Have you washed up?”

He nodded. He’d even gone to the barbershop and bought a shave and a dose of bay rum.

“They’re all in the dining room.” She shut the door and gave him a peck on the cheek, nearly undoing him right then and there. Last night hadn’t been nearly enough for him. He gazed into her eyes—a lifetime of loving her wasn’t enough. “We better go in.”

He followed her, hanging his hat on the coat rack as he passed it. A lump formed in his throat. He’d never dishonored a woman before, and, even though he loved her, facing her daddy wouldn’t exactly be easy. After all,
Gardner
was a man, and he’d know exactly what Cole had done. Men didn’t much like their daughters being messed with.

Gardner
greeted him with a handshake. “Thanks for bringing my girl back, marshal.”

Cole felt like a heel, but he only nodded. “I’m glad I found her, although she’s a resourceful woman—she’d have been fine on her own.”

“Let’s sit down and eat. We’ll talk over a cigar after dinner.”

The savory smell of roast beef forced a growl from his stomach. “All right.” He held the chair for Daisy, while
Gardner
seated his wife. She’d cooked up quite a spread—fresh peas, a garden salad, mashed potatoes and gravy. Although his nerves bothered him some, they didn’t bother him enough to curb his appetite.

“Where’s Forrest?” Mrs. Gardner complained, her brow furrowed in worry. “That boy knows he’s supposed to be here at noon, sharp.”

“Don’t worry.”
Gardner
patted his wife’s arm. “I saw him not fifteen minutes ago.”

He said grace, then passed the meat to Cole. “Eat hearty, but save some room for a slab of my wife’s cherry pie.”

Cole forked a hunk of beef onto his plate. “I have plenty of appetite for everything, believe me.”

Daisy, too, had an appetite, he was happy to see. But her mother kept looking at her, questioning. Cole knew that she knew what had passed between him and her daughter, and suspected that her father knew, too, although he kept his gaze on his plate. And that Daisy knew that they knew, but ignored the silent inquiry. Cole would make everything all right for her, just as soon as he had his say-so with
Gardner
. She deserved no less.

Mid-meal, the door crashed open. “He didn’t mean to do it!” Forrest yelled as he ran in the house. “We were just playing fetch, and, and
—
”

“Calm down there, son,”
Gardner
said as he gestured the boy to come over to him. “Start at the beginning. What’s going on?”

“It’s Winky.” He panted and looked at his dad, then Cole. “Mrs. Courtney has him in jail and says she’s going to make dog steaks out of him and feed him to her chickens.” He hopped from one foot to the other. “You’ve got to come save him!”

“And why did she do that?”
Gardner
’s even voice seemed to calm Forrest a bit.

“Because,” the boy’s lower lip trembled, “She said Winky ate her raisin pie that she baked for Deputy Kunkle.”

While the Widow Courtney leaned toward the unreasonable side of things, Cole didn’t see why that alone would send the woman into such a fury. But he knew what a trial the big, happy, slobbery menace could be. “Is that all?”

Forrest studied his toe as he drew invisible circles on the floor with it. “Uh, no.”

Cole waited, but the boy wasn’t forthcoming. “What else did your dog do?”

“Well, she tied him to the privy. Then, I waited and waited for my chance. Pretty soon, while she was, uh, visiting the privy, I started to cut the rope—you know, so she couldn’t stop me while she was in there. And, well
…
”

“And?” Cole prompted.

“Winky was just so happy, he
hopped three-legged
around and around the privy with the rope still tied a
round his neck, and, well…
sorta knocked it over.”

“Uh oh,” Daisy breathed.

Mrs. Gardner pressed her hand to her forehead. “Oh, my stars!”

Mr. Gardner looked bemused, smiling slightly.

Cole would have bet there was a knocked-over outhouse sometime in his past. “Forrest, are you saying Mrs. Courtney was using the privy when your dog accidently pushed it over?” A strong belly laugh welled inside him but he did his best to keep a straight face.

“Yes, and the door was on the down side. If I’d known what a mean old bat she was, I wouldn’t have got Deputy Kunkle to roll it over and let her out.”

“Forrest!” his mother exclaimed.

The boy looked at his father, then back at his mother. “That’s what Daddy calls her,” he said defensively.

Mrs. Gardner glared at her husband, who smiled weakly.

Cole needed to hear the rest of the boy’s story. “So Deputy Kunkle helped out?”

“Yes—I didn’t bother him none, because he said he was on his way over to her house to eat dinner. ‘Cept he did say he would have liked a big hunk of that raisin pie.”

“I’m sure Deputy Kunkle isn’t put out,” Cole reassured.
Probably laughing his ass off, more like it
.

“But Winky didn’t mean to knock the privy over. Really. Why, he was just so happy to be free and all.” He smiled—an ornery grin if Cole had ever seen one. “Boy, oh, boy. You should have heard that old woman holler.” Then he frowned. “But now she’s convinced the deputy to lock my dog up in your jail, marshal, and says she’s gonna put him out of his misery. But he ain’t in no misery—his paw’s
healing real good.
.” He grabbed Cole’s hand. “You gotta come. Now.”

All four of them followed Forrest to the marshal’s office. A horrible racket came from inside—the incessant barking and the piercing curses of a woman. Bosco sat outside, his chair tipped back and his hat pulled over his eyes.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you,” he drawled. “It ain’t safe.”

Cole bet not. Didn’t this town have anything normal, like shoot-outs? “Just what the hell did you do?” he bit out.

Bosco stood and shoved his hat back. “Prunella was a might disturbed, you might say, ‘bout her privy tumbling over whilst she was sitting in it and all. She grabbed that dog by the ears ‘till he yelped and drug him into the jail cell, screaming at the poor critter ever’ step of the way. So I locked Winky in the cell, then I pushed the widder in the other cell and locked her up, too.”

“On what charge?”

“Pestering that animal so. They ain’t no call for yanking a dog’s ears dang neart off his head. And I ain’t eating her raisin pie no more, either.”

Cole wasn’t surprised, given Bosco’s soft-hearted nature. Nor could he say he disagreed. He turned to the Gardners, all with mouths agape. “I think you better stay out here until I have Mrs. Courtney calmed down some.”