ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories) (326 page)

              “I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you.” He said, opening the room up for me. It was generously appointed, with a large frame poster bed, a lush Persian rug, and the most beautiful vanity I had laid eyes upon. “This room is yours for as long as you wish. I recall you mentioning you love books, so I have taken the liberty of ordering a few for you. They have yet to arrive, but I do expect them on the next coach.”

              I was overwhelmed, but not in the way he was thinking. I found myself tearing up and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at my eyes. “Sorry, Elias. I’m very tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

              “Certainly. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs. I’m at the counter through the overnight hours in case our guests need anything.”

              This was the first time he’d mentioned a trade. I knew he was attached to his family’s ventures, but I didn’t know how. “Oh! So you’re a hotel clerk.”

              “Yes.” He looked nervous for the first time. “I hope that’s not a problem. I can assure you that one day this hotel will be mine. That is, ours.” He took my hands and now it was my turn to be nervous.

              I didn’t know the first thing about running a hotel. Nor would I have to, as fate would have it.

              Before we turn to that, I would have you know the character of the frontier town, as I would come to know it. It may not be a fair representation as viewed through the eyes of a stranger. I will also note that within me was a turmoil every bit as perilous as that I faced in the so-called Pacific, an ocean I found to be far less tranquil than its name would imply.

              I would say the most surprising thing to me was that the village was a picture of extreme contrast. For every respectable, hard-working, church-going family man there seemed to be a drunken idler ready to fight. It was credited to me by Elias as having to do with the low nature of some of those who had ventured west in search of gold and, finding none, had continued to decline without return.

              “You’ll find all sorts, here, I fear.” He warned me as he took me by the arm through the town. “There’s the shirker, the deserter, the rustler, the wanted man. Never fear, we have many kind hearts among us as well.               Abigail Monroe, wife of Reverend Monroe, is a pillar of the community and insists I must present you to her so she may have a chance of befriending you. But I tell you all of this as a caution. Chase can be a touch dangerous.”

              So far, so good to my way of thinking. I’d had a taste of adventure, and I didn’t mind a bit more. But there was another delicate matter I wanted to present to see if we were compatible, and I wasn’t sure how to do so. I wished to test his character and thought of a way to draw him out.              

              “And are there many people of Mexican and Indian descent here as well? I have heard as much in my reading, that the West is a great mix of people.” I knew very well that this was true already, but I wanted to elicit his views.

              “Within the town and beyond, as well as Chinese, Irish, and those people of African extract so recently freed from bondage, certainly.” He added cautiously. “I should say that while there are many folk with prejudices they’ve brought with them, I was not brought up in such a way. My father’s father was an abolitionist; my father was not, but I think I take more after grandfather.”

              “That only recommends you to me all the more, Elias.” I said, relieved. He seemed to visibly relax as well at the revelation of my sympathies and he gave my arm a gentle squeeze. I was glad to see he was no bigot. I could not have stayed on had that been the case, though retreating to my kin in Indiana would have been difficult in my position.

              I did meet Abigail Monroe soon after, and she was holding court with a group of young women in a sewing circle. Elias excused himself after introductions were made, though some part of me wished he’d linger. We had only just begun to get to know one another in the previous hour, but he declared he’d need to sleep in readiness for his nighttime duties.

              Abigail made me welcome, serving tea with milk and introducing me to the other women of her circle. “You must find us so very different from your city ways.” She declared over her own cup of tea.”

              I agreed, politely noting that it was all very homey and welcoming, nonetheless. But inside I withered. Being left with a group of women who were interested in needlepoint and gossip held no great appeal to me. Not that I think ill of needlepoint; for my part, I’ve always struggled to succeed in that art, being better versed in cooking, tidying up, and organizing the home among my feminine arts. I fancied too, that I had a head for numbers, though I’d never been tested in that talent with very practical purpose such as managing a household budget or helping my father with his store. I had offered, but this proved to be the limit of his progressive views on a woman’s role in public life.

              As it was, I soon found I misjudged the women of the group. I’d never met a more hard-nosed, practical group of women than the four or five women who ventured in and out of the discussion over the next few hours. “The Murphy boy is falling in with a bad element.” Cassie Brown mentioned to the group some little while after I’d described my origins, family, and voyage.

              “He’ll work his way into the Charles gang if steps aren’t taken.” Abigail agreed. “He’s of the right age and from what my Hank has seen he’s handy with a gun. Quick-tempered too. Hank tried to bring him to see the light of the Lord, but he didn’t seem very keen on it.”

              “All I’m saying is someone should do something.” Cassie suggested. She looked over her glasses at another woman of our group, and the heavy-set woman recipient of her look shook her head and laughed.

              “Not at all subtle, Cassie, not at all subtle.” Judy McCormack commented, wrinkling her brow. She seemed to be the fastest of the knitters and wasn’t being slowed by the conversation. “I’ll have Jim put a scare in him.”

              “Jim?” I asked, confused.

              “My husband, the sheriff. If Jim doesn’t scare him back onto the right road, I will.” She nodded with finality, letting her knitting needles click together.

              It was my turn to laugh. “Forgive me, but are you saying you think you could set a potential gunslinger straight?”

              Abigail pointed to Judy with her needles. “She’s the fastest gun in these parts, as far as we know. How many times have you been deputized, Judy?”

              “I lose count. Not my favorite pastime, but I suppose I could remind Bobby Murphy that there’s a good reason to stay on the proper side of the law, if he needs a demonstration.”

              Oh goodness, I thought to myself and couldn’t restrain a smile. I’d truly ventured into the West. Fear of domestic boredom, ever on my horizon, was starting to fade ever so gradually.

Dear Anna Belle,

My dearest sister-in-law, I vowed I would write you upon my arrival, and forgive me for how the time has flown! There has been need to acclimate myself to many changes and I have necessarily forgotten my correspondence. I hope you will understand, and I hope this letter finds you and James in good health.

Though I thank you greatly for the notion of finding love by correspondence, the past two weeks has been somewhat trying. I had fancied myself an independent woman in our household. There is so little of independence one knows until one is fully immersed in this Western climate. As I grow more fond of it, I also find adjustment must be made in how Elias and I are growing into a couple.

I suppose there was less difficulty in this for you and James. You grew up with one another. Elias, despite his kindly nature, is as a foreign language to me. I imagine I must be so to him as well…

              I was well into writing my letter to Anna Belle when I stopped. How could I relay to her the confusion reigning over my heart with these simple and few words? Though I should have been at my happiest, a miserable cloud hung over me, haunting my steps. I was in love with a man who didn’t understand me, and I had no idea of what to do.

              We had the evening before been returning from an excellent conversation hosted by Sheriff McCormick and my dear friend Judith. Though we had enjoyed a charming hour of charades, followed by discussion of the state of the South and its recovery after the war. As we were walking home, he gallantly offering me his arm, I chanced to mention Judith’s reported skill with a gun.

              “That’s well-known among the town, dear Minnie.” He informed me, with a twinkle in his eye. “I had hoped you would be amused by the discovery. We have among us many exotics, you see.”

              “Exotic? In what way?”

              “She was a traveller in a ‘Wild West’ show for a few years prior to settling down with the Sheriff. That’s where she honed her craft. Though, to be fair, her father and brothers had taught her the skill in Arizona, I am told.”

              “And how would you feel if I were to learn to shoot?”

              He laughed at this. “You have no need for that, I assure you. Any protection you may need, rely upon me.”

              “I see.” I could feel tension rising in my chest. “And business- you expect me to partner with you in this hotel as your wife? I know nothing about hotels, and I feel there is much to learn if I am to run one.”

              He looked uncomfortable with this proposition. “Partner? That is… I will inherit, and naturally a wife’s duties to her husband mean you will share in it. Obviously you will own it. But you don’t need to know anything about running a hotel. What feminine charms and graces you can put to use in the service of the hotel, I should be grateful for, of course, but…”

              “So I am to bow and scrape and smile. Be a pretty face, nothing more.” I think he took heed to the warning in my voice, for he immediately began to stammer.

              “Not entirely! That is, you needn’t put yourself to any rigorous effort to learn my trade, my dear. That’s all I mean. You see, you see… well, you could supervise the maids, of course! There’s always cleaning. Surely, you must know about that.”

              We were at the hotel. I forcefully extricated my hand from his arm and, with a hint of steel to my voice, I proclaimed, “Good night, Mr. Pierce.”

              “I- yes, good night.” He sounded quite small, no taller than a dog, which I will say is roughly how I viewed him.

              The next morning before breakfast, sitting as I was doing my correspondence, I began to find cause for reproach with myself. I had asked him questions. Had I stated my desires? If I wanted to take a more active role in managing a hotel, it would seem logical that I would state categorically where my interests lay. I was vowing just to myself to do just that and was about to finish my overdue letter to Anna Belle when I smelled smoke on the air.

              The smell and the sound of wild whooping and shouting corresponded one with one the other. I had been sitting at a small nook of the hotel lobby where a pleasant little table made a good writing desk. But as I stood up sniffing the air, Elias looked up from his book behind the counter. “What is that?” He asked. We had been very stiff with one another, and this was our first real conversation of the day. He was just about to finish his long night’s shift.

              I went to open the door, and only a moment later, the window near my desk shattered as something was thrown in. I quickly spied that it was a branch, and at one end was a flame. The thing struck the desk, bounced off, and lit the rug on fire.

              Elias was a marvel to witness. He placed both hands on the counter, vaulted over it, and snatched up the branch. With a great heave, he threw it back out of the shattered window.

              I hadn’t any time to register what was happening, but I could see from the doorway that there were men on horseback shouting and shooting in the street. An unfortunate who crossed their path was gunned down mere steps from the entrance to the hotel. I screamed at the sight.

              Elias was struggling to put out the fire with boot and coat, but then we heard another crash from an adjacent room. I rushed in that direction only to find that our customer dining room, where several guests were taking their bacon, eggs, and coffee, was the victim of an attack as well. The great curtains were already in flames, and the fire raced across the ceiling.

              “Everyone leave, this instant!” I shouted. The clientele were obliged to do so, but I stopped them with upraised hands. “Not out of the front! The back. There are gunmen!” It was fortunate there were only three guests, as they were able to do as I suggested quickly enough, exiting through the kitchen.

              I went back to the lobby, finding the fire had been extinguished, and waited for my chance to escape. The men moved away soon after, so I ventured out. From behind me, I heard a rush of feet. Elias had gathered the remaining guests from the upstairs, and they were all rushing out in a tumult.

              “What was that?” I cried out to Elias as we saw the group retreating. All about us were bodies and burning buildings, including our own hotel.

              “Charles Gang!” He shouted back. We all of us tried to put together a water brigade and set about rescuing the Chase Hotel.

---

              You have never seen so dejected a body of people as the people of Chase after the great Charles Gang Raid.

              It had all gone wrong with an attempted bank robbery. A group of a dozen or so gang members were confronted by the Sheriff and his deputy as they tried to flee. For their thanks, the two men were killed. They managed, however, to kill Ike Charles, leader of the gang. Worse for them, they hadn’t managed to steal hardly a dime; the bank had sent funds ahead just the day before, and the people of Chase found their money was safe in Sacramento. That set the surviving robbers into an orgy of killing and revenge-seeking. They’d lit the town on fire, and in the process killed five people, including poor innocent Cassie Brown of the sewing circle. They’d burned down the town’s only store, one of its two churches, and a saloon.

              They’d also mostly destroyed the Chase Hotel.

              Uncle Cyril was beside himself with grief at the destruction of his grand old building. His brothers tried to console him, but he wept openly as a man would the loss of a child. “We did nothing to them! Why take it out on us?” He cried out.

              “Because men like that take and don’t care who they take from.” Elias had replied grimly. I’d noticed a hardened edge to him over the matter, the mood of a man who was both angry and determined to see things set right. He’d been so easy-going and almost careless in his concerns in the weeks before, this new attitude, given the circumstances, held some appeal for me.

              I was fortunate. While much of the hotel had been destroyed, some rooms managed to survive unscathed. My room, though only accessible by a ladder from the outside, was untouched, and so my belongings were retrieved. I was to stay in a boarding house for the time being. But the grand old building was lost.

              When we were alone together later on, I walked with Elias to the river. It had become my favored place to go to with him, to watch the water roll by while we conversed and grew to know one another’s hearts.

              “What will you do now?” I asked Elias. He and I had spent much of the day doing what we could to help the town by putting out fires and trying to find places for the hotel guests to stay the night.

              “One of the first things I plan to do is offer my condolences to Jody McCormack.” He said, sternly. “Then I’m going to offer to be her deputy.”

              I was surprised by this. “Deputy? Not the sheriff?”

              “No. She’s the best shot in town, and it’s her husband. It’s true, it’s the sort of job a man would usually take. But I think she’ll refuse. You didn’t see her today; I did. Not a tear came to her eye. She’s of a mind for revenge against that gang and, well, I would like to see justice done as well.”

              “I’ll support you in it.” I offered cautiously. “Now, if you’re of such a broad mind about that, I would ask you to support me in my thought as well.”

              He nodded. “Whatever it is, you have my pure resolve to see you through in it.”

              “Good.” I smiled. “Hope you’re in as much of a mood to build as you are to shoot down bad men.”

---

              “I declare that I haven’t seen you so industrious in ten years, Cyril!” Josiah yelled up to the aging man as he balanced precariously on a ladder. He was hammering in nails to the sideboard of my new store, built on the ashes of the ruined hotel as its foundation. Brother Wilbur was standing on the finished second floor, holding up the board for him.

              “What would you know of industry, Josiah? All you do is cut hair!” The man yelled down, looking cheerful as he did so.

              “And pull teeth!” His brother corrected, holding the ladder.

              “Yes, and that. I could yank a man’s tooth out clean as you like. It’s no art. Blast! Now you’ve made me bend a nail.”

              I chuckled to myself, watching the trio work. Even as old age was descending on them, it was pleasant to see them tease one another as boys would.

              Elias had been gone for three days. He, Jody, and a small group of townspeople who’d been quickly deputized as a posse, had been following a lead on the whereabouts of the Charles Gang. Once merely a nuisance to the area, it had been definitely decided to see to it they were laid to rest or brought to justice, once and for all.

              On the homefront, the town was in the throes of rebuilding since the earlier attack. A month had gone by, and we were all ready to see our livelihoods and normalcy re-established. I had my small funds to draw from, while Elias had chosen to use his life savings to help me in the building of my own dream; a dry goods store.

              “I want to call it Wilson’s. That was the name of my father’s store, and though I’ll take your last name in a week, Elias Pierce, I want to honor his memory and start something in my own name.”

              “Agreed.” He’d told me as we held hands after church the morning before he left with the posse. “Though, I will enjoy being your lesser partner in the store. I’m only a simple deputy now, you see.”

              “Ah, but you’ll have family involved besides me, you see.” It had been agreed that Uncle Cyril would be offered the chance to work in the store. Though I would spend some time behind the counter, it was my intent to focus upon the finances and the running of the business as much as possible.

              “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He’d assured me.

              Before he’d left, Elias had also taken me aside and given me a surprising gift. “Here.” He’d handed me a pistol.

              I blushed to feel its weight in his hands. “What is this?”

              “A gun. If you’re going to live in the West, you should know how to defend yourself.”

              “I couldn’t.” I said, handing it back, but he insisted.

              “I want you to be able to look out for yourself. Jody and I will teach you everything you need to know about it. Might come in handy in that store of yours; you can’t ever tell.”

              I had never fancied such a thing would be a necessity, so it was with great reluctance that I accepted his suggestion. But regardless of his intent, his determination, confidence, and growing support for my dream venture had caused me to reappraise Elias W. Pierce. For when the fire had started, I had been uncertain in my love for him.

              Out of the ashes of Chase, I discovered that my love for Elias rose like a phoenix.

              The downstairs of the store was in full, working order, and I walked in to look it over. Tomorrow, we would open for the first time. The upstairs was to be our living quarters, or would be when Elias and I had married. Though the entire town had pitched in, there was much to do beyond boarding up the simple skeletal framework. There were windows to install, a proper roof to be placed, and interior walls to construct. Still, with the downstairs ready and nearly completely stocked, I was feeling confident about the state of my store. I was even enjoying the look of the drying, plain sign with “Wilson’s Dry Goods” boldly stated over the doorway.

              It was midday and I was about to encourage a break when I saw the dust rising from the road. I grinned. Elias must be returning to bring word of the capture of the desperados. I paused at the doorway, my hand over my eyes, shading them so I could see more clearly.

              There weren’t as many of them this time, but within a certain distance it became clear I was seeing the bandits returning.

              My heart thumping loudly, I turned and shouted down the street, “Charles Gang!” Passersby on the sidewalk froze in their tracks. As one, everyone turned and fled to their homes.

              The uncles were trapped in their positions. I saw Josiah touch the tip of his long mustache, a nervous tic of his I’d learned he was prone to in times of stress.

              “Wait here.” I told him, grimly. I went to my counter, reached under with both hands and walked back outside. I placed a rifle in his hands. He was as shocked as I was when Elias had stuck a gun in my hands.

              “I don’t know how to use this!” He protested.

              “Well, that makes you only a little worse off than I.” I suggested. Looking up, I yelled to Cyril, “Climb up into the second floor with Wilbur. You’ll be better off than in the open.

              The men didn’t know how to react to a woman giving orders, but I thought it might be good for them; Cyril was technically my employee tomorrow, after all. I stood beside the doorway and held my pistol in both hands, feet spread slightly to give me balance as six men on horseback rode in.

              “Look at this!” One of the men laughed, looking down at me from under his broad-brimmed flat hat. “You must think yourself a real sharpshooter, missy!”

              “It’s Minnie.” I coolly replied and pointed to sign over my store. I was trembling mightily within, but determined he wouldn’t see it. “And you’re not welcome in my store or in my town.”

              “Oh, is that so?” The man scoffed. “We’ll just see about that. You can’t shoot us all, can you? Stand as-”

              I had been taught how to take careful aim, how to fire a gun. At that moment, I realized that if I didn’t act, they would take my home, my virtue, likely my life. I fired without a second thought. The man toppled to the ground. I rocked back from the force of the shot, but didn’t lose my footing.

              There were, as I said, far fewer of them than before. With his fall, there were but five. Uncle Josiah drew up the gun he’d been given and, though uncertain in how to conduct himself, took aim. I stopped him with a shout.

              “Wait!” The other men were going for their weapons, but I yelled for them as well. “Enough, enough! Stop, please!” Just in case, I was prepared to shoot another.

              They seemed to sense my reluctance to fire again and paused. We were covering two of them; they all stayed still, though I could see they were ready to act. I needed to cool their nerves.

              “Go now and you needn’t be wiped out. I have men up there,” I said, pointing above. “and there are shooters positioned throughout the town. Go while you can.”

              They hesitated, so I repeated, “Go on. Get going.”

              A man spit, looking furious, but spoke to the others. “All right. We’ll go. But this ain’t over.”

              I shook inside, certain that was so. Even so, they turned and began to ride out of town. They hadn’t gone a hundred feet when a blast of gunfire erupted from a nearby hillside. The tried to defend themselves, but soon they had all fallen.