Bran (Prairie Grooms, Book Six) (6 page)

“What if it's a girl?” asked Mrs. Mulligan.

“We haven't thought of a girl’s name yet. We can't decide on one.”

“Let us help!” said Fanny with a clap.

“Good heavens, no!” called out Grandma from behind the front counter. “The last thing those youngins’ need are a bunch of us biddies suggesting names for a baby!”

“Are you calling us biddies?” asked Susara with a laugh.

“Not you,” said Mrs. Dunnigan. “She means those of us whose children are already grown.”

“Except you don't have any children, Irene,” pointed out Fannie.

“Can I help if the good Lord never blessed me with any?” Mrs. Dunnigan shot back.

“Ladies!” interjected Annie. “Let's get our coffee and cookies and begin our work, shall we?”

“Constance!” Apple suddenly blurted.

Constance laughed. “I dare say, but I do believe we'd best move our circle into the church sooner than later, especially since Apple just noticed I was here!”

The women laughed and spent the next few moments chatting, sipping coffee, and nibbling on cookies until Mrs. Mulligan called the meeting to order. Apple had finally relaxed enough to enjoy herself when the inevitable happened.

“So, we’ll start a Christmas quilt and get it done in time to be used as a prize,” announced Mrs. Mulligan. “Are we all agreed?”

The women nodded.

“Good, then if there’s nothing else, we’ll get started sewing,” finished Mrs. Mulligan.

“I have a question,” said Fanny. She looked at Apple. “I want to know what happened with Deputy O'Hare. Did Sheriff Hughes hit him on the head to get him breathing again, or not?”

Apple felt herself turn every shade of red there was, including that of Fina and Levi's kitchen table. “Wha… what?”

“Mrs. Fig,” began the newly arrived Penelope. “Apple has had quite enough of the whole incident, and considers the matter closed.”

Fannie's mouth dropped open in shock. “I’ll speak of it if I want to!”

“Fanny,” said Grandma in warning. “Stop.”

“Well how’s a body to know anything that goes on in this town, unless they ask?” Fanny complained.

Apple's eyes darted to the mercantile doors. She could drop her sewing, get up, and make a run for them right now.

Constance looked from Apple to Fannie, then to Penelope. “What’s this?”

“That's right!” said Fanny with glee. “You haven't heard!”

Apple closed her eyes and shook her head.
No…

“Heard what?” asked Constance.

“Your cousin here shoved poor Deputy O'Hare into the safe and suffocated him!” Fanny said in excitement.

“What?!” cried Constance.

Apple threw her face into her hands, and fought the urge to run and hide.

“He's fine,” ground out Grandma. “Don't listen to Fannie, she exaggerates.”

“Apple?” said Constance. “Is this true?”

Apple looked at her cousin and nodded. “True.”

“It was an accident,” said Fina. “Let's not talk about it anymore.”

“But I just want to know…” Fanny started again.

“No!” cried Elsie Drake. “My husband did not hit the deputy over the head to get him breathing again! Now, enough!”

Apple groaned, and unable to stand it any longer, tossed her sewing aside and fled the mercantile.

Six

Apple flew down the mercantile steps into the street, turned to her left, and ran. Unfortunately, she ran right into Deputy O'Hare! She cried out when she hit. “Oh!”

He took a step back and grabbed her to keep them both from falling over. “What are you doing?”

She looked up at him and moaned. “Oh, no …”

“I'll ask ye again, lass, what’s going on? Is there a fire? Do ye need help?”

Apple glanced back at the mercantile and struggled to free herself from him. “Let me go!”

“Oh, no, not with that look of desperation. Yer mine!” To prove it, he grabbed her wrist and started to pull her down the street.

“What are you doing?” she screeched.

“Since yer bent on escaping the sewing circle, I'll accommodate you.”

“What? Un-hand me!”

He stopped. “Fine. So I take it you'd rather go back in there and face a circle of cackling females that all want to know what
really
happened on the day ye locked me in that safe?”

“I … I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him, and raised her chin.

He leaned down toward her and smiled. “I may not be a smart businessman like Mr. Van Cleet, lass, but I do know a thing or two. And I know, that right now every woman in that mercantile is talking about
you
,” he said and pointed at her chest.

She swallowed hard. He was right, of course. She turned and looked over her shoulder but no one came bursting through the doors after her. Odd. She looked at him and squared her shoulders. “So what of it?”

He stood straight, and raised a curious brow. “Yer braver than I thought. Fine then,” he said as he spun her around and gave her a shove. “Go back inside and face them.”

Apple turned and stared at him. “What about you? What have people been telling and asking
you
all week?”

“I've had nothing but sympathy. Mrs. Mulligan even made me my favorite stew.”

Apple's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Why the nerve of the man! She studied him closer.
Was he gloating?

“And Sheriff Hughes offered me a day off so I could recover from my
horrible
ordeal.”

At that, Apple had to close her eyes and bite her lip. She would
not
cry!

“There, now, lass, I… I didn't mean for my words to…”

Apple felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes.

“I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings,” he said, his voice softened. “I'm sorry. I'm a bit of a tease ye see, always have been. Though not as bad as Levi Stone, but bad enough.”

She looked at him, then to the hand on her shoulder. “I suppose we’re not going to hear the end of this anytime soon, are we?”

“Not likely in this place. It's a small town and there are those that like to keep things stirred up.”

Apple rolled her eyes. “You mean like Fanny Fig?”

“Especially Fanny Fig,” he said with a chuckle. “Were they that bad then?  The ladies in the circle?”

“Fanny was the worst, the others seemed to be okay. I just…” she sighed, “don't want to talk about it anymore.”

He took his hand from her shoulder and stepped closer. “I understand. I'm getting kind of tired of talking about it myself. I can't imagine what it's like for you. There's nothing worse than being at the other end of an accusing finger, eh lass?”

“How would you know?” she said and looked away.

“Trust me when I say, I've been there many times. Too many, in fact.” He reached over and touched her chin to get her attention. “I was mad as a rattler at you, that I’ll admit, and I'm sorry if I said things I shouldn't have, but ye did almost killed me.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Aye, ye did. Let's just call it even, then, shall we?”

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked and looked at him.

“I am a little.”

“At least you’re honest about it.”

“It's just that…” now
he
looked away, “… I was scared.”

She looked into his eyes when he faced her again. “Scared?”

“Aye, lass. I was afraid I was going to die.”

Apple closed her eyes as her hands balled into fists. “I'm so sorry, Deputy, so sorry.”

He shrugged. “No harm done now, though, eh?”

She looked at him again. “No, no I suppose not.”

“Then what say we start fresh? Make a clean slate, as they say?”

Apple nodded. “I'd like that.” She realized how close he stood, enough to feel the heat of his body. “I should go back inside now.”

“Why? No one's come to fetch ye, I see. Maybe they think ye needed some time to yerself?”

“You can say that again,” she said with a sigh. “Once people start talking about it, they can't seem to stop.” She again looked over her shoulder at the mercantile. “They're probably
still
talking about it.”

“Aye, I suppose they are. But isn’t that what a group of chattering females does? Talk and talk and talk and talk?”

She let out a small laugh. “It depends on what they're talking about.”

“I suppose so,” he said as he looked into her eyes.

His body jerked but with what Apple didn't know. Yet, she felt something had just passed between them. “Good or bad, I should be going,” she told him.

He nodded. “I should be getting back to work myself.” He took a few steps back and began to turn away from her. “Do us all a favor, lass, and watch yerself the next time yer in the bank?”

She couldn't help but smile at the tease. “I'll do that, so long as you make sure you stay away from the safe?”

He smiled back. “I will.” With that, he turned and headed toward the sheriff's office.

Apple had an odd fluttering in her stomach, enough to put her hands over it. For the first time, she noticed that Deputy Bran O'Hare was handsome. She smiled at the thought, then turned and went back to the mercantile.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and Apple was relieved that not one of the ladies in the sewing circle mentioned what had quickly become known as the
Apple/O'Hare ordeal
. She sobered when she heard Mrs. Mulligan say it, and at first only heard the names put together as, “Apple O'Hare”. For a scant second, she imagined it to be her married name. Fate was indeed cruel, for she then remembered his handsome face and the tiny prick of attraction she felt as she looked into his eyes. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, and was going to forgive her soon. Maybe he was even the kind of man she could make friends with. Maybe… he was the kind of man she could marry.

But she didn't dare. To let him get too close to her would be his undoing, and his death. She would do well to remember that.

Apple set the quilt squares she’d cut alongside similar piles on the mercantile’s front counter, then turned into the smiling face of Constance, and jumped. “Oh, my goodness!”

Constance ignored her action. “I'll find out from Ryder what happened, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

Apple took a deep breath to calm herself. “I think you've heard it all. Thank goodness Deputy O'Hare is all right.”

“But are you all right? I was going to go after you when you ran out earlier, but Penelope told me to leave you alone.”

“I'm glad she did, it gave me a chance to speak with the deputy. I saw him in the street.”

“And?”

Apple absently fingered the quilt squares on the counter. “I think he’s still a little upset with me, but not like he was before. He was quite cordial actually.”

Constance smiled. “I'm glad, and I'm sure he'll forgive you. I think he's just stubborn.”

“He told me he was scared,” stated Apple as she looked at her cousin. “That he was afraid he was going to die.”

“I think anyone would be, don’t you think? I know I would. I remember what it felt like when I thought Ryder was going to die, it was terrible. I can't even imagine how he felt.”

“Your circumstances were different. You didn't bite Ryder, a snake did.”

Constance laughed. “Quite true, but still, death was in the equation, and no matter how you look at it, it
was
scary.”

“I understand what you're trying to say, Constance, thank you.”

Constance pulled Apple into her arms and gave her a hug. “I'm just glad both of you are all right.” She gently pushed them apart. “And don't worry, the talk will die down and people will forget all about it.”

“I don't know about that,” Apple whispered. “If Fanny Fig had her way, it would be in the papers in Oregon City tomorrow.”

“She's not as bad as all that, though she can be trying at times,” Constance whispered back as her eyes flicked to Fannie who was in an animated conversation with Mrs. Dunnigan.

“I suppose you're right,” agreed Apple. “If she was really that bad, it would've been in the Oregon City paper the day it happened!”

Constance hugged her again. “You need to stop thinking and talking about it, and leave it be. All right?”

Apple nodded against her cousin’s shoulder then stepped out of her embrace. “I'm trying, but it's hard when everybody keeps bringing it up.”

“I understand. Maybe what you need is something to keep your mind off of it?”

“Like what?”

“Why don’t you go talk to Annie, the preacher's wife, and ask if there's anything you can do to help her with the upcoming holiday season?”

“That's more of Lena's area, not mine,” said Apple as she looked at her older sister across the room with Grandma. “But don't worry, I’ll find something.”

Constance took her hand, gave it a squeeze, and then went to speak with Penelope and Eloise. Apple leaned against the counter then slowly scooted to the end of it to stand in the corner. She watched the ladies of Clear Creek as they continued to visit with each other. The days were getting colder and soon autumn would turn into winter. She hoped by then the entire incident would be behind her. But Apple knew she wouldn't be so lucky. Clear Creek was a small town, and she was going to have to be extra careful if she wanted to avoid Deputy O'Hare. After all, it was for his own good, and hers.

* * *

Bran rode across the prairie at a fast gallop. The cold wind brushed against his cheeks to streak them a bright red. He found it invigorating when the weather changed from fall to winter, and realized the change was coming early this year. That, of course, meant a string of long, cold nights ahead. For some reason, the thought was troublesome.

He slowed Grady to a trot and eventually a walk to let him cool down. He was riding the cow trails to see if there was anyone camped south of Clear Creek. Occasionally a late wagon train came through about this time of year, before the snow started, and if there was one, he wanted to let them know they could get supplies nearby.  

Sometimes the settlers didn't realize how close to Clear Creek they were. “Grady, me lad,” he told his horse. “Maybe there'll be a fine lass or two to drink in, before winter comes.” But what did it matter if he saw an attractive woman from a wagon train? It's not like he was going to take up and marry her. Besides, there was an attractive girl back in town, as he recalled… too bad he was still mad at her.

It was also too bad that he never planned to marry; otherwise she might make a fine match for him, despite the fact that she almost killed him.

He laughed at the thought. Grady flicked an ear in his direction in response. “What would ye do?” he asked the horse. “Would ye fancy a filly that nearly killed you?”

Grady broke into a trot.

Bran burst out laughing. “I thought ye'd say that! That's it, runaway! Run as fast as ye can!” Grady broke into a canter.

Bran laughed again and let the horse have his head. He knew the trail and knew where they were going. But as Grady made his way to where the settlers usually camped, he began to think. Did he want to get married one day? He was young, only twenty-seven, and didn't plan on being a lawman forever, did he? True, he'd seen more than his fair share of violence, rape, and murder during his years as a Texas Ranger, it was one of the reasons he came west in the first place. He liked being a lawman but had seen more in five years, than some lawmen see in a lifetime, and was done with it. He figured being a deputy in a small town would be much better than what he'd been through in Texas. But he hadn't given marriage much thought. Until now, that is.

There were quite a few lawmen that married, but then, there were just as many that didn’t. Who was to say whether it was right or wrong, to do so? He thought of Sam Jamison, the Cookes’ cowhand. He wasn't a lawman, yet he'd been shot. It could've happened to any one of them that day. Out here in the West it seemed everyone ran the same risk of death. The only things that kept it at bay were a man's wits and how fast he was with the gun. Bran O'Hare had plenty of both.

He crested a small rise and looked down over the area where the settlers often camped. It lay empty. He sighed and turned Grady around to head back the other way. Marriage then was plausible. He
could
do it if he really wanted to. The only problem was, there was no one in town to marry, except ... “Apple Sayer,” he said aloud. “Mrs. Apple O’Hare.”
Hmmm…
He had to admit, she was a pretty little thing. When he stood in front of her not hours ago, he felt an odd tingling in his gut and a twist in his heart as he looked into her eyes. She wasn't frightened at the time, or in need of any help, yet something inside of him wanted to protect her, keep her safe, and he couldn't understand why. She was a feisty thing and he liked it. In fact, he had no doubt that if she knew how to use a gun, she wouldn't hesitate to. Yet… there was just something about her. A vulnerability he couldn’t explain that drew him to her like no other woman ever had. He had to fight it when he found her in the woods last week, and only his anger masked it, but he wasn't angry now. Now he was able to fully sense it, and it made him want to keep her tucked behind him, as if she were some treasure he wanted to hide and keep for himself.