Welcome- this week's work is Twenty- This is a new book I'm writing about a Mail Order Bride.
Shannon took a deep breath
and slowly let it out before turning to face him. “We no longer have reason to
ever talk again. I would think attempted murder would void any marriage
promise.”
“Attempted murder? Are
you crazy? You disrespected me and you got what you deserved. Anyway, I’m not
talking about the marriage contract. I’m talking about the money I sent you to
get out here. I demand you return it.” He threw his cigar at her feet and
crossed his arms in front of his barrel shaped chest.
“That’s one of the
reasons I’m trying to find a job. I’m good for the money, I promise.”
Her hopes dashed as his
mocking laugh grew louder. “You stupid cow, I own you. You’ll pay me back I can
guarantee it. I bet there are plenty of men willing to give you a go, even if
you’re ugly as sin. Funny how a little liquor changes how a man defines beauty.
It makes them willing to take any female offered. Of course I might have to
give them a twenty percent discount for
having to look at you.”
Boot steps echoed on
the walkway. “Ma’am, get into my wagon. You’re going home with me.” Cinders
hadn’t even glanced her way- he kept his gaze trained on John.
John glared at Cinders
and laughed mockingly. His stance was wide and his right hand hovered over the
gun in his gun belt. “I said she belongs to me.”
A lump formed in her
throat as her heart beat wildly against her chest. She didn’t know much about
men or guns but she did know the expression of hate on John Hardy’s face.
“Thank you, Mr. Cinders, for coming to my aid but I’m not worth getting shot
over. The fact is, I do owe him his money back and truly who would hire me
now?” Her fingers gingerly touched her bandage.
Cinders didn’t take
time to glance in her direction. He kept his gaze on John. “I’ll hire you. Now
get in the wagon.” His voice was low and even as though he anticipated more
trouble.
“Not until I get my
money,” John snarled.
A tall, older gentleman
clad in a crisp white shirt and wool pants stepped into the street. He stood
between the two men while shaking his head. “I’m warning you, I haven’t had my
breakfast yet. What seems to be the problem?”
“Cinders here is trying
to steal my wife.”
The man turned and
faced Cinders. “Is that true? You know a wife belongs to her husband. I can’t
get into the middle of this. Now if the town would open its tight purses we’d
have a sheriff here to take care of these matters and I’d be eating my
breakfast.”
“Judge Gleason, I’m
sorry about your breakfast but the fact is they aren’t married.”
“Yet!” John shouted
The judge turned. “Damn
it, John, I’m right here. There is no need to yell into my ear.” He scanned the
gathering crowd and rested his gaze on her.
Shannon quickly
adverted her eyes as she tried to be inconspicuous, however it was impossible
with the huge strip of gauze hugging her cheek. Slowly she lifted her gaze and
met his knowing stare.
He smiled. “Well I can
see what all the fuss is about. We don’t often have such a fine woman come to
our town.”
John coughed loudly as
he stepped toward her. “I’m still willing to take her even if she is hideous.”
Judge Gleason tipped
his flat-brimmed hat. “Ma’am, would you like to join me for breakfast? You can
tell me what this is all about.” He walked toward her, extended his arm and
waited for her to place her hand on it. The crowd parted as he escorted her in
the direction of Eats Café and he called over his shoulder, “Cinders, I want to
talk to you too.”
“What about my story?”
John asked.
The judge shrugged his
shoulders and kept walking.
“Well?”
They reached the door
to the eatery and Cinder’s opened the door and held it for them.
“I already know your
story, Hardy.” Judge Gleason ushered her through the open door.
