Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) (3 page)

Matthew shadowed the Master out into the street. He expected the Master to send him home, but he didn’t stop walking until they turned the corner by the elm trees that surrounded the church yard. He stopped once he passed out of sight of the main street.

The Master gazed up through the trees. The hotel roof rose up above the limbs of the trees, and through the branches, Matthew saw the railing outside the double doors of the back room. A lace curtain drifted with the breeze inside the doors.

Matthew thought the Master had either forgotten about him or was deliberately ignoring him, wishing he’d go away and mind his own business. He jumped in surprise when the Master spoke to him.

“She’ll be up there by now,” the Master murmured. “The clerk will leave here there and go to arrange the delivery of her luggage. She might come out to the rail to get some air. She’s had a terrible shock. And after her long journey, she’ll be over-wrought. The poor thing!”

Matthew said nothing. Was the Master talking to himself? He had never done that before.

But the Master answered Matthew’s question by facing him with piercing eyes. “I want you to do something for me, Matthew.”

“Anything, sir,” Matthew squeaked.

“I want you to keep an eye on Polly for me,” the Master told him. “I would stand here all day and all night until Sunday morning if I could. But I can’t. It wouldn’t be proper. If anyone saw me here, it would look bad for Polly.”

Matthew didn’t understand much of what he said. He only heard the Master give him an important commission to guard Polly in his place.

“You can keep an eye on her with no one suspecting anything,” the Master continued. “I want you to tell me if Bartlett comes back. If he does, I want you to come and get me. If it’s night or day, it doesn’t matter. I want to know the instant Bartlett comes near her.”

“Yes, sir,” Matthew replied.

The Master let his hand fall onto Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew thought he might swoon then and there, but he managed to keep himself upright and gaze up into the Master’s face.

“I know I can count on you,” the Master told him. “I’m entrusting Polly’s safety to you. You know what Noah Bartlett is capable of, so you know the danger Polly’s in. I’m counting on you to let me know if Bartlett tries anymore funny stuff with her. Do you understand?”

Matthew nodded in dumb adoration.

The Master patted him on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.” He looked back up toward the hotel room. “You’ll be able to stand here and see her when she‘s in her room. You’ll be able to follow her without being seen if she comes out. She won’t be expecting anyone to follow her, and no one else who sees you around town will suspect anything, either.”

Matthew looked up at the double doors of the hotel room. Sure enough, as they watched, Polly came to the doors and pushed them open. She stood at the rail, gazing down at the elm trees that sheltered them from her view. All she could see from up there was the church yard.

“I’m going home now,” the Master told Matthew. “I’ll be there if you need to find me.”

The Master didn’t wait for Matthew to reply, but flipped his skirt and strode off. Matthew waited and watched behind the elm trees until the sun went down and the moon came up. But Polly never appeared at the rail again.

How was he supposed to know if she went out? He couldn’t see her window and the front of the hotel at the same time. He started to become cold and hungry. Did the Master intend for him to stand out here all night? What if Noah Bartlett came after Polly in the middle of the night, when Matthew was asleep at home?

He thought the matter over. The stars came out and a cool breeze rustled the elm trees. A lamp came on in Polly’s room. Then, in the deepening darkness, it went out. She had gone to bed. Now what should he do?

He finally made up his mind and trotted home to his own plate of supper and his own bed. He lay awake, thinking over the assignment the Master had given him. The Master said before he was grateful to Matthew. If only he could fulfill this task, too. How grateful the Master would be to him then!

He shuddered with pride at the thought of it. But how to accomplish it? This was, by far, the most difficult and complicated assignment the Master had ever given him. Learning lessons, reading and calculating mathematical equations—those were easy compared to this.

And no one feared the Bartlett family more than Matthew. He’d avoided them so diligently all these years out of sheer terror of their enmity. He would have to keep this commission from the Master a carefully guarded secret. If Felix found out, Matthew was as good as dead.

He took a long time to fall asleep that night. He still wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing by leaving the hotel to come home to bed. The Master might be displeased with him. He would have to get out there behind the elm trees before dawn tomorrow morning to make sure he arrived before Polly woke up. He’d have to keep her in sight all day—no matter what.

The next morning found Matthew at his station, hugging his shoulders to warm himself before the sun came up. He wore a knapsack full of food to keep himself going throughout the day, because he couldn’t keep running home for meals. The Master wouldn’t approve.

Polly came out to the rail in the morning after breakfast. Then she disappeared for a while. Matthew was just getting bored and looking around for something to amuse himself when a sudden thought came to him. Polly might go out after breakfast.

He raced around the building just in time to see her stepping out of the hotel.

She strolled around town with her handbag over her arm, her hazelnut curls swinging back and forth behind her. Matthew darted from one corner to the next, following her but staying out of sight. Polly strolled from shop to shop, window shopping here, going inside to buy something there, and then moving on.

Matthew didn’t keep track of where she went or what she was doing. He only kept her continually in sight and watched out of the corner of his eye for Noah Bartlett. But Noah never appeared. Maybe he’d had his fun with Polly and the Master and forgotten all about them. Maybe all this worry about Polly’s safety was for nothing, and the wedding Sunday morning would go off undisturbed.

Then they could all breathe a sigh of relief and go on with their lives. Wouldn’t that be a blessed outcome?

Polly eventually headed back toward the hotel. She turned a corner from the dairy and Matthew followed her. But when he rounded the same corner, he ran face first into Polly standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She was waiting for him.

Matthew collided with her and bounced off, stumbling back a few steps before he recovered enough to face her.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you following me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matthew stammered.

“I’m not married yet,” Polly snapped. “I’m not ‘Ma’am’ yet. I’m ‘Miss’. Miss McLane to you. Now tell me what you’re doing following me.”

“Yes, Miss,” Matthew stuttered.

Polly narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, come on. Spit it out. What are you doing here?”

“I’m following you, Miss, just like you said.” Even as the words escaped his mouth, he heard how ridiculous they sounded. But he couldn’t induce his brain to operate his mouth correctly. Nothing else would come out of it.

Polly smacked her lips in exasperation. “For his star pupil, you’re not very bright, are you? Did Brain tell you to follow me?”

Matthew nodded in mute acknowledgment.

“Why did he want you to follow me?” she asked. “Did he tell you?”

Matthew nodded again.

“What’s the matter?” Polly demanded. “Can’t you talk all of a sudden? I’m not that frightening, am I?”

“No, ma’am.”
Matthew saw her scowl and corrected himself. “I mean, no, Miss. It’s not that. It’s just I’m not used to talkin’ to a lady.”

“What do you mean?” she shot back. “Do you have a mother?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Matthew blushed. “I’m sorry, Miss. I just don’t seem to be able to talk just now.”

“You’re doing fine,” Polly retorted. “Just keep talking. Tell me why Brian wants you to follow me.”

“He—I mean the Master—he didn’t like leaving you alone yesterday, Miss,” Matthew replied.’

“The Master?”
Polly repeated.

“Yes, Miss,” Matthew explained.
“The School Master.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied. “Go on.”

“He reckoned,” Matthew continued. “he couldn’t keep watch over you himself. He said it wouldn’t be proper. He said if anyone saw him lurking around, it would look bad for you.”

“So?” she prompted. “What about it?”

“He said,” Matthew replied. “that I could follow you without attracting any notice. He said you wouldn’t notice me. He said you wouldn’t be expecting anyone to follow you.”

Polly snorted. “Well, that just goes to show how much he knows, doesn’t it?”

“Miss?” Matthew asked.

Polly waved her hand.
“Never mind. So what does he want you to do while you’re following me?”

“I’m supposed to keep my eye on you,” Matthew told her. “I’m supposed to let him know if Noah Bartlett comes near you again.”

“And what good is that supposed to do?” she asked.

“I’m supposed to go and get him the minute Noah Bartlett shows himself,” Matthew told her. “I’m supposed to go get him from his house.”

“By the time he got here,” Polly reasoned, “Bartlett would be long gone and I could be dead.”

“The Master wouldn’t let that happen, Miss,” Matthew assured her.

Polly gave him a wry smile. “He said you were his star pupil. But you obviously think just as much of him as he does of you. He’s your star, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes, Miss,” Matthew exclaimed. “I’d do anything for the Master.”

“The Master, huh?” Polly repeated. “That’s an interesting thing to call him.”

“We all call him that,” Matthew replied. “He’s the School Master. What else are we supposed to call him?”

“How about Mr. Buchanan?” Polly suggested.

“Oh, no, Miss,” Matthew replied. “That would never do. He’s the Master. He always was and always will be, at least as long as he’s teaching at the school.”

“I see,” Polly told him. “Well, anyway, I can’t have you following me. You’re making me a lot more uncomfortable than if I did meet Bartlett. You’ll have to stop. Now why don’t you run along and go tell Brian—I mean, the Master—” She burst out laughing. “You can tell him I don’t want you following me and I’ll be fine until tomorrow. You can tell him I thank him very much for worrying about me, but I don’t need it. All right?”

“I can’t do that, Miss,” Matthew replied. “You see, the Master gave me a job, and I’ve got to do it. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t stop until the Master tells me to stop. If you don’t want me following you, you should tell him yourself.”

“I will,” Polly declared. “I’m having dinner with him this evening. I’ll tell him then, and then he can tell you. Okay?”

“All right, Miss,” Matthew replied.

“But until then,” Polly continued. “I’ll thank you to stop following me. I don’t like it.”

“But what if Noah Bartlett comes back?” Matthew asked.

“I’ll handle Noah Bartlett,” Polly replied. “You don’t worry about Noah Bartlett or me or the Master. Just stop following me. That’s an order.”

Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stalked off down the street. Matthew stared after her. What should he do? Should he go tell the Master she’d sent him packing? She was the Master’s wife—or, rather, future wife. But still, perhaps he ought to obey her as he would the Master.

Well, either way, he couldn’t just abandon the post the Master had given him. He would wait until Polly brought up the subject with the Master. He would wait until he received his orders from the Masters lips.

He tiptoed after Polly but this time, he made sure to follow even farther behind her than before. He would make certain she didn’t see him again.

Polly kept on around another corner next to the church yard. Matthew watched her from behind the hotel and waited until she emerged from behind the elm trees. Then he could duck behind the trees until he found the next hiding place.

But she didn’t come out. Had she discovered the spot where he watched her at her window? Maybe she was lying in wait for him, to catch him following her when she’d told him not to. Should he follow her and run the risk of being caught? Or should he stay put? What would the Master say if he lost her? His loyalty to the Master made up his mind. He started forward, creeping around the elm trees.

At first he didn’t see anything, and his heart sank to think she’d given him the slip. But the sound of muffled voices drew him attention to the church yard. He spotted Polly between the grave markers, and with her was Noah Bartlett.

The scruffy hooligan clutched Polly with his arm circled around her waist, leering his slobbering grin of rotten teeth and grizzled whiskers into her face. Polly leaned back as far as she could against his arm and averted her face. She strained against his grip and shoved against his chest with both hands, but he only laughed and hissed in her face more ferociously than ever.

Matthew froze. Running for the Master never crossed his mind. He gaped at the scene in petrified horror.

“So you still think you’re gonna marry that namby-coated prince of yours, do ya?” Bartlett growled. “You still think you’re gonna ride off into the sunset on a white horse? Well, you just wait until tomorrow, dearie. Old Noah’s got a rare treat planned for you and your lover-boy. Don’t you worry.”

“Get away from me!” Polly cried. “Get your hands off me!”

“Did you tell him about me?” Bartlett hissed. “Did you tell him we met at the train station? No? You kept it a secret, didn’t you? You kept it a secret when you saw what a kitten you’d agreed to marry. You’d rather have a real man like me, wouldn’t you?”

“Let me go!” Polly snapped.

With one wild flail of her arms, Polly reared back and struck Bartlett across the side of the head.

He recoiled once, but he recovered himself with a more terrible expression on his face than ever. Polly quailed when she saw his reaction. “So that’s how it is, is it? Well, I’ll teach you who’s the Master in this town, and it
ain’t no bookworm schoolteacher.”

With those dreadful words, Bartlett reached into his belt and pulled out his pistol. He pointed it at Polly’s heart.

“I told you before I’d kill you if you stood against me,” Bartlett snarled. “I gave you a chance. You could have lived peaceably in this town if you’d been friendly to me. But you blew your chance, Missy, and now you’re gonna pay.”

The thought that he had to do something kept repeating in Matthew’s head. But he couldn’t think what he ought to do. He couldn’t run for the Master. Polly would be dead by the time they got back.

He took a few more cautious steps forward into the church yard—just enough to let Bartlett and Polly see him. His footsteps acted on Bartlett the way he hoped they would. Bartlett turned his attention away from Polly and toward the intruder.

When he saw Matthew, Bartlett’s hideous snarl turned to a mask of fury. “What are you doing here?”

Matthew didn’t say anything. Contrary to his best intentions, he didn’t do anything, either. He just stood there, watching. It was the only thing he could do.

But it worked. Bartlett fumed and seethed and raged and bared his nasty teeth, but he couldn’t do anything to Polly with Matthew watching. He took a step back and brought the muzzle of his pistol up to Polly’s face.

“You can’t hide from me,” he growled. “I’ll find you, and I’ll get you. Just you wait until tomorrow morning.” He backed away and vanished into the bushes.

Polly stared after him until he passed out of sight. Then she crumpled to the ground in heart-broken sobs.

Matthew hurried over and squatted next to her. “Don’t cry. Miss. Everything will be all right.”

“How will it be all right?” Polly sobbed. “I have to live in this town. I can’t stay behind locked doors all my life. He’ll find me, one way or the other. To listen to him talk, I won’t even be getting married tomorrow. He’ll kill both Brian and I at the church.” She dissolved into a fresh burst of weeping.

Matthew put his hand out to pat her on the shoulder, but he didn’t dare touch anything belonging to the Master. “Don’t cry, please, Miss. I’ll go get the Master. He’ll make it all right for ya.”

Polly’s head jerked up and her eyes flashed. “Don’t you
dare! Don’t you dare say a word to Brian about this. It’s bad enough I told him about what happened at the train station. If Bartlett finds out I told him about this, too, we’re both as good as dead.”

“But I promised the Master…” Matthew began.

Polly’s tears flew away from her face as she spat out her words. “I don’t care what you promised the Master! You’re not telling him anything.”

“But we can’t let Noah get away with this,” Matthew replied. “We have to do something to stop him.”

“There is no way to stop him,” Polly declared. “I’ve seen his kind before. If he’s gotten away with this sort of thing this long, then he’ll keep getting away with it. The only way to live with it is to keep quiet about it. Maybe Brian and I can get married tomorrow and live our lives without too much interference from Noah Bartlett. That’s the best we can hope for.”

“I have to tell the Master,” Matthew replied. “I promised him I’d let him know the instant Noah came anywhere near you.”

Polly went still and hard, and her icy cold words made Matthew shiver even worse than the sight of Noah man-handling her. “If you tell him, I’ll make sure you never have anything to do with him again. You won’t be the teacher’s pet anymore. I’ll be his wife and I’ll make sure of it.”