Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) (5 page)

Matthew woke up sick to his stomach the next morning. In spite of the Master’s assurances, he lay awake most of the night fretting about what would happen at the church. He believed Noah Bartlett’s threats over the Master’s confidence.

The Master complained that everyone in town thought he was going to his own funeral. Now Matthew believed it, too. The last thing in the world he wanted to see was Noah Bartlett killing the Master and Polly on their wedding day.

But the only way to avoid it was to stay away from the church. After all his machinations to get himself taken there, after years of struggle to keep his Sunday mornings free, he couldn’t back out now. He had to go.

Some morbid fascination compelled him to see the conclusion of this adventure in which he’d entangled himself. Maybe he’d get lucky and Bartlett would gun him down, too, along with the Master and Polly. Then he could put the whole sordid affair to rest and stop thinking about it.

His brain just wouldn’t leave it alone. He wracked his mind trying to think of a way to divert the tide of destiny. But what could a young boy do? If he tried to intervene, Bartlett would split his sides with laughter. Bartlett would crush him like a bug under his heel if he so much as raised his head in defiance.

Matthew tarried over his breakfast until his mother hounded him from the table and threatened violence of her own if he didn’t get dressed and get ready to go. All his family dressed in the Sunday best, and Matthew’s mother took along a special bouquet of flowers she’d made especially for the occasion. The village saw so few weddings that everyone wanted to make it a celebration to remember.

Matthew watched his parents prepare for church. They didn’t seem affected by the anticipation of a confrontation with Noah Bartlett. Like Matthew, they’d made scrupulous efforts to stay out of his way. They admonished Matthew day in and day out about minding his own business and leaving the confrontations to someone else.

And he’d happily complied—until now. Why, oh why, hadn’t he kept out of all this? Why did he cross first Felix, and then Noah? Now they would never rest until they paid him back.

At last, he got his Sunday clothes on and his mother tied his tie for him. She chided him on his reluctance to go to church when his hero was getting married. Matthew didn’t respond. He only waited at the garden gate for the family to come out of the house. Then they all walked to the church together.

On the way, they met other families, all headed to the church, too. They chatted and the little children ran up and down the street. No one mentioned the impending conflict. But Matthew detected a subtle undercurrent of hesitation, especially among the women. In spite of the joyful atmosphere, they weren’t quite as exuberant as he thought they ought to be.

More people gathered outside the church, and the crush of bodies filing through the door kept Matthew outside longer than he intended. He didn’t see the Master anywhere. He found Alan and Timothy in the crowd, and he joined them in hanging back to the rear of the crowd.

“Have you seen the lady?” Alan asked Matthew.

“What? Here?” Matthew asked. “No. Have you?”

“No,” Alan replied. “I guess she’s hiding in the vestry.”

“What about the Master?” Timothy asked. “Have you seen him?”

“No.” Matthew looked away toward the mass of bodies at the church door.

“Have you heard any more about…?” Alan stopped.

“No.” Matthew compressed his lips to stop himself from saying any more.

“But Felix said,” Timothy told them. “he said his father is coming today to stop the wedding. I heard the same thing from Andy Metzger, the barber. And you know what he’s like. He’s a regular clearing house for news. If he said it, the word must be out all over town. Noah Bartlett is coming here today to stop this wedding.”

“I heard the same thing,” Alan agreed. “
and not just from Felix. You must have heard it, too, Matthew. Don’t say you haven’t.”

“I heard it from Felix,” Matthew shot back. “
but you can’t take his word on anything. I’m here to see the Master get married, and that’s what’s going to happen.”

But he didn’t feel it in his heart. With every step he took closer to the door of the church, his heart sank further and his gut ached from nervous tension. He wished he could go home and go to bed and wake up tomorrow morning and hear all about it from his friends. Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to see the Master gunned down in cold blood by a worthless lout like Noah Bartlett?

Once the Master was gone, Felix would be insufferable again, just like he was before the Master came to town. The light would go out in Matthew’s life, and there would be no more reason for him to go to school He would go to work in his father’s wagon shop. Very likely he would never read a book for the rest of his life. What was the point?

In the end, he couldn’t make any more excuses for staying outside the church, and the three boys went in. Alan and Timothy left to sit with their families. Matthew lingered behind the pews, trying to decide what to do.

Up at the front of the church, the Master towered over the congregation seated in the pews. He stood straight and true in his immaculately pressed black coat with a black ribbon tied in a bow in the collar of his shirt. Matthew had never seen him looking so magnificent. The buttons of his coat ran up his chest in a firm, straight line.

The minister mounted to the podium and began the service. The Master remained standing through it all. Matthew saw his mother turn around in her seat, looking for him over the sea of heads.

Just then, a rustling noise made him turn around, and there was Polly.

She wore a conical white gown with white ribbon bows around the hem and lacy overskirts. A thin gauze veil covered her head and face. Matthew couldn’t make out her face underneath it but after staring at her, he decided she looked sad.

“Have you come to witness the inevitable?” she asked.

Matthew frowned. He didn’t understand that word, but he didn’t want her to know that.
“Miss?”

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she continued. “I thought you’d run and hide in a hole. That’s what I would have done, if I was you.”

“But you’re here,” Matthew replied. “Why didn’t you hide in a hole, if you felt that way.”

“Me?” Polly asked. “I’m here to meet my fate. They’ll bury me in my wedding dress.”

“The Master won’t let that happen,” Matthew assured her. But he didn’t believe it himself.

“Him?”
Polly’s eyes slid to the front of the church. “He’s a dreamer. Just look at him. What kind of man dresses like that? He’s living in another world. He thinks his learning and his education will get him out of this. He’ll die today along with the rest of us.”

“Noah can’t kill all of us,” Matthew told her.

Polly fixed him with a withering glare from under her veil. “I only meant him and me. And you, too, of course.”

Matthew quailed and he almost started to cry. “Don’t say that, Miss.”

Polly put her head to one side. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you didn’t know? You stuck your neck out, and now it’s on the block with the rest of us. You can’t get away any more than we can. You’ll die today along with us.”

“It’s not true, Miss,” Matthew wailed. “Don’t say that.”

He didn’t wait to hear any more. He whirled away from Polly and rushed up the side aisle of the church to his family’s pew. He threw himself into the seat next to his mother and kept his eyes down at his hands to avoid seeing Polly or the Master again.

The minister plowed through the usual church service with its Bible reading and its sermon. Only at the very end did he raise his head from the podium and announce, “And now, we come to the moment we’ve all come here to share, the marriage of our own School Master, Brian Buchanan, with Polly McLane from Albany.”

The congregation dissolved into a twitter of conversation. Everyone turned around and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Polly in the doorway in her gown and veil. A hush of admiration descended when she appeared, and every set of eyes watched her walk down the aisle toward the Master—every set of eyes except Matthew’s.

He kept his eyes down to prevent himself from bursting into tears. His teeth chattered in his head and his hands shook. His shoulders shuddered with icy cold. He hated himself. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He should have stayed home.

Polly floated up the aisle. The Master admired her along with everyone else, a proud, dignified smile on his face. They met in front of the altar and faced each other for a brief moment before turning to the podium.

The minister opened his mouth to speak when the door of the church banged open and a deep male voice thundered through the stillness.“Stop!”

Matthew’s nerves collapsed and he let out a pathetic whimper. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Noah Bartlett strode up the aisle toward the altar, his pistol waving in his hand.

Women screamed and children began crying in their mothers’ arms. Another male voice called over the crowd, “You’re a coward, Bartlett, for barging in here,” but everyone cowered down in their pews and hid.

Noah shouted over the congregation to the minister. “I guess you decided to skip the part about anyone objecting to the marriage. Well, I’m here to object, and I intend to speak now and never hold my peace.” He swept his gun across the crowd, drawing a fresh wave of screams from the womenfolk. Wherever he pointed it, someone screamed and everyone ducked their heads behind their pews.

Bartlett stormed up the aisle to the altar. Matthew peeked out just enough to see Polly standing stock still under her veil, waiting for death to take her. The Master glared at Bartlett, but didn’t flinch at the sight of the gun in his face.

“I warned you I’d be
comin’ for ya,” Bartlett snarled. “Well, here I am, and you’re done for.”

The Master’s green eyes flashed. He didn’t fear Bartlett or his gun in the slightest, even though he and everyone else in the church were unarmed. “Get out of here, Noah. You aren’t welcome here.”

“Not welcome here!” Noah thundered. “This is a church! Everyone’s welcome in a church.”

“Not you,” the Master corrected him.

“Well, I’m here,” Noah bellowed. “and you can’t get rid of me. There ain’t nothin’ you can do about it. Is there?” And he stuck his gun right into the Master’s face.

The Master stared hard at Bartlett over the top of the gun. He acted as though the gun wasn’t even there. “I’m telling you for the last time, Noah. Turn around and walk out of here while you still can. I won’t tell you again.”

“It seems to me,” Noah replied. “that you aren’t exactly in any position to tell me to leave.” He cocked the hammer of his pistol in front of the Master’s eyes.

Matthew wished he could close his eyes, but he remained riveted to the scene. The Master tucked his hand into his coat buttons and turned back toward the altar in a gesture of defeat. Matthew’s heart sank. Was this the end? Had the Master really given up, too?

Noah must have thought so because he laughed his most sinister laugh, not only at Polly and the Master, but at the whole impotent congregation who sat there staring at him but couldn’t raise a finger to stop him.

Noah laughed over his shoulder and swung his head back around toward the couple at the altar. He brought his pistol up again, his thumb on the hammer and his finger compressing the trigger to carry out his threat.

But as he did so, the Master swung around, too. He twisted around so fast, Noah didn’t see him until it was too late. The Master whirled around, flinging out his left hand as he turned. He struck the pistol so hard with the back of his hand, it flew out of Noah’s grasp and sailed into the aisle.

Noah’s eyes flew open but the Master didn’t stop. His right hand threw back the lapel of his coat. Matthew and the rest of the congregation gasped in unison. When they thought he had been staring at the altar in dejected defeat, he’d actually been unbuttoning his coat. He flung the coat open, and the whole congregation saw a gun belt hanging around his hips.

In one fluid motion, he slapped Noah’s pistol away with one hand and pulled his own gun with the other. Before Noah could recover, he found himself staring down the barrel of the Master’s pistol as helplessly as the Master so recently stared down the barrel of his own.

The Master’s voice rang against the rafters of the church. “Now, you listen to me, Noah Bartlett. I’m not going to shoot you in a house of God, so that leaves you with two choices. You can leave now and never show your face to me again as long as you live, or you can pick up your gun and meet me outside. We’ll settle this, man to man, once and for all.”

The congregation watched in stunned disbelief at the turn of events. Matthew barely breathed. Noah Bartlett set his jaw in a mask of determination, but he didn’t laugh at the Master the way he did before. His eyes slipped back and forth between the barrel of the gun in his face, the Master’s steely eyes, and the aisle where he hoped to catch sight of his own gun.

“Go ahead,” the Master invited him. “Go pick it up. It’s right there next to the Porter family pew. Pick it up and carry it
outside, and we’ll settle this in the street.”

Noah hesitated one more minute until the Master jerked his head toward the aisle again. Noah gulped and turned his back on the gun. He slunk up the aisle, picked up his own pistol just where the Master said it would be, and hustled out of the church.