Lauri Robinson - Mail-Order Brides Of Oak Grove

As did the way the men behind him were shouting at each other, guessing what they’d have for lunch and betting it would be one of the best meals they’d ever eaten. They could very well be right. In fact, they better be right. At the fortune it was costing him to feed them, they better enjoy every morsel.

On that thought, Steve reined in his horse, slowing the pace for everyone. Mary wasn’t costing him that much more than he’d paid Rex to cook and clean, and considering the quality of the meals last night and this morning, the extra money was worth it.

They rode into the homestead around the back of the barn, which was where Steve caught sight of the two horses tied up outside the bunkhouse, and the two men sitting in the shade under the awning.

“What are they doing here?” Walter asked, drawing his horse to a stop.

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “But I have a good idea.”

“What?”

“She’s cooking our lunch.” Steve dismounted and handed the reins to Leroy before he crossed the yard to the bunkhouse.

“Sheriff, Mayor,” he greeted as the men stood. “Hot day to be sitting out here.”

Pulling his britches up over his pudgy waistline, Josiah Melbourne puffed out his chest. “You tell that woman to get out here right now.”

“I’m assuming you’re talking about my new cook.”

“Of course I am,” the mayor said. “You can’t hire her as a cook. You never contributed to the Betterment Committee, therefore she can’t be here.”

Tom Baniff stepped forward. He’d been the sheriff for the past two years and was doing a dang good job of it. He always got straight to the point, and did so now.

“Mary McCary is one of the brides,” Tom said. “And Brett Blackwell confirmed he brought her out here right after the train arrived.”

“Brett did,” Steve agreed, “but Miss McCary claims she had no intention of becoming a bride.”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” Josiah barked. “She knew the rules before she left Ohio.”

“Could you have her unlock the door so we can talk to her?” Tom asked. “We’ve been here long enough.”

Steve started for the house, and as the sheriff stepped up beside him, he asked, “How long have you been here?”

“Left town at eight this morning.”

“And you’ve been sitting here the entire time?”

“Yes. Josiah refused to leave, and I didn’t want to have to ride out again because she shot him or something.”

“There’s a town full of men expecting—”

Interrupting the mayor, Steve asked the sheriff, “She pulled a gun on you?”

Tom shook his head. “Not that I saw, but she said she had one and would use it if needed. Josiah wanted me to kick the door in. I said we’d wait for you.”

Steve walked up the back steps and tried the door knob. It turned easily. After pushing the door open, he waved for the sheriff and mayor to enter while holding his other hand up to his men, telling them to wait outside.

The table was set, the room smelled wondrous and Mary stood near the doorway to the parlor, as puffed up as a grouse guarding her nest. Steve had to keep his grin hidden, but couldn’t deny he felt a fair amount of respect for this little woman and her gumption. “These men would like to speak with you, Miss McCary.”

“I’m aware of that,” she answered. “I didn’t think it was appropriate until you were present to vouch for the agreement we’ve made.”

“There can be no agreement between you two,” Josiah shouted. “I already told you that. Now, get your belongings. You are coming to town with us.”

The man was crossing the room as he shouted. Steve crossed the room, too, and planted himself between the mayor and Mary. “She’s not going anywhere. I hired her as my cook for the next month.”

“She isn’t available for hire,” Josiah bellowed. “Especially not by someone who wouldn’t even contribute to the cause!”

That was a sore spot for the mayor. He’d been out to the ranch several times asking for contributions, and had been upset that “the most prominent citizen of Oak Grove” wouldn’t participate. Steve didn’t care how prominent others proclaimed him to be, he thought it was a stupid idea from the start, and wasn’t going to put his hard-earned money behind it.

“I’ll contribute to your committee,” Rex shouted from the bedroom. “How much do you want?”

Obviously listening from the back porch, Walter stuck his head through an open window. “All of us out here will contribute, too. How much will it take to keep her?”

Steve smothered a growl. They’d all been on his side until they’d met her. Actually, he no longer had a side. If it came to keeping her, he had no choice but to pony up. “How much?”

“I got twenty-five dollars ready to hand over,” Rex shouted from the bedroom.

“It’s too late for that,” Josiah said. “You had to make your contributions before the brides arrived.”

Steve glanced past the mayor, to the table where a plate of cornbread sat and whatever was in the oven, ham he’d guess, had the house smelling as good as it had yesterday. Settling his gaze on the mayor, he said, “I’ll give you fifty bucks. That should more than cover her travel costs. Once she’s done working for me, she can marry any one of the other contributors.”

“I’m not—”

The glare he cast over his shoulder stopped her protest.

“Take the money,” the sheriff said to Josiah. “We have to get back to town. The party will be starting soon and you’re to give the opening speech.”

The mayor shook his head. “That won’t—”

“Seventy-five,” Steve interrupted.

* * *

Mary gulped. No one had that kind of money just lying around. Leastwise not anyone she’d ever known, nor would they have been willing to donate it to a committee of any sort. The air in her lungs started to burn, but she didn’t dare let it out. Didn’t dare make a peep. Not even to say no one needed to cover her traveling expenses. She’d traded Buck, their horse, for her and Maggie’s train tickets, but she doubted anyone wanted to hear that. The mayor was so red it looked like his head was about to burst off his shoulders, and the sheriff’s gaze was wary as he looked from Steve to the mayor and back again.

“I said seventy-five dollars, Melbourne,” Steve said. “Take it or leave it. Either way, you will be leaving without Miss McCary.”

“It’s time we leave, Josiah,” the sheriff said.

Mary let her breath out then. The sandy-haired sheriff appeared to be a much more intelligent man than the mayor—who was still red-faced and glaring at Steve.

“Fine,” the mayor said. “I’ll take your money, Mr. Putnam, but Miss McCary will be expected to fulfill the terms of the agreement she signed at the end of her employment with you.”

Mary wanted to protest, but pinched her lips together instead. There was no sense arguing a moot point. She’d be hightailing it out of Kansas at the end of her employment. A twinge of what she could only describe as guilt fluttered through her midsection. Steve—who had spun around and left the room—was laying out an enormous amount of money in order for her to cook for his men for the next month. The forty dollars he was paying her and the seventy-five he’d agreed to give the mayor was more money than she’d ever seen at one time. She’d fulfill her commitment to him. The McCarys had honor and never had been indebted to anyone. Which was what she’d told Sheriff Freiday back in Ohio upon trading Buck for their train tickets.

Steve returned and handed the mayor several bills. As the sheriff led the mayor toward the door, Steve said to her. “The men are hungry, Miss McCary.”

Her thudding heart told her she should say thank-you, but her commonsense said not within hearing distance of the mayor, therefore she nodded and walked toward the stove. “Lunch is ready, Mr. Putnam. Please tell the men to come in and eat.”