The Mail Order Bride's Secret Page 3

  “Not me,” Jesse said. Joe sided—of course—with his brother.

  “Suit yourself.” Sawyer pointed to a small blackboard with the day’s menu on it. “What would you like to order, Mr. Trinity?”

  “What’s good?” Tait squinted at the board, his head pounding harder.

  Sawyer grinned. “Eggs, biscuits, and gravy is always my favorite, but you might like the pancakes.”

  Jesse bowed up, folding his arms across his chest. “We don’t eat gravy.”

  “I’m allergic to eggs.” Joe’s strained half smile must be the kind he reserved for strangers and people he didn’t like. Or when he felt like picking a fight.

  Tait couldn’t miss the challenge in the boy’s eyes. He ignored the thrown gauntlet and smiled at Sawyer. “Pancakes and milk for the children, and I’ll take the eggs over easy and some coffee. Hurry with the coffee and bring some extra gravy too.”

  “Coming right up.” Sawyer headed for the kitchen.

  Tait’s gaze followed the orphan that Jack and his wife Nora had taken in. Why couldn’t the twins be more like Sawyer—grateful for what they got?

  Jesse put his elbows on the table. “What are you gonna do with us?”

  “Well, I’m not shipping you out on the next stage.” No matter how tempting. Tait glanced toward the kitchen, hoping to see Sawyer bringing that coffee.

  “Milk.” Becky patted Tait’s arm. “Milk.”

  “Just a minute, sweetheart. It’s coming.” Tait aimed another look toward the kitchen. Where was his coffee? If it didn’t come soon, he’d lose what was left of his mind. There was a flurry of movement behind him, but when he turned around, the boys were still seated in their places.

  “Maybe you should think about what the sheriff said,” Joe suggested.

  “Which part?” Jack had been pretty free with advice and had seemed to delight in Tait’s predicament.

  “You’re sorta ignorant about raising kids, and a woman knows about what kids hafta have. You need a wife.” Joe leaned back, looking satisfied at speaking his mind.

  “He’s right.” Jesse took up the cause, wagging his finger. “You need to get married. Why haven’t you, anyway? You’re old.”

  The last thing Tait needed was advice from kids, especially with Jack’s grin still sticking in Tait’s craw. “I haven’t married because I’ve been busy. And I haven’t found the right woman. Yes, I know I’m old. You don’t have to tell me.”

  Thank God, his coffee. Sawyer plunked down a cup and filled it from a pot. “I thought you might be needing this, Mr. Trinity.”

  “You’re a good man, Sawyer.” Tait brought the cup to his mouth, and the first taste was worth every piece of gold in the Denver Mint. The coffee swept other distracting thoughts right out of his head and settled the jumpiness inside him.

  Mrs. Truman brought a plate full of hot biscuits, and Tait thanked her.

  Jesse stood and reached for a biscuit, handing one to Becky while Joe served himself. “What will happen to us when the lawmen come and arrest you?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Tait took a sip of coffee and let the hot brew take the jagged edge off his nerves. “I’ll have things in place in the event they do find me.” Who could he bribe to take the kids? Maybe Clay’s wife, Tally. Or Bowdre’s wife, Nora? But Nora was heavy with her third child, and Clay and Tally had two kids. Rebel and Travis’s third was soon due.

  Sawyer brought the glasses of milk, and Tait held Becky’s to her mouth. She drained half and wore a milk mustache grin when he took it away.

  “Did you rob banks and trains?” Joe asked.

  Diners at the other tables stared.

  “Joe, that subject is off-limits,” Tait said quietly.

  “I’m Jesse.”

  Tait leaned across the table and flipped the safety pin. “Nope. You have the safety pin on your collar. You’re Joe.”

  “No, I’m Jesse.” The boy was a little too smug. “I know who I am.”

  Tait finished his coffee in one gulp and motioned to Sawyer for a refill. Then he turned to the only one he could trust for the truth. “Becky, honey, who is this?” He pointed to Jesse.

  She answered, “Joe.”

  Dammit! The boys had switched. “Thank you, honey.” He grimly leaned across the table, using every bit of restraint he had. “Put the pin back where I had it. I’m not playing this game.”

  Jesse glared. “You don’t want us. Just admit it.”

  “I loved my sister—your mother—very much, and I’ll love you too if you’ll give me half a chance.” Tait’s memory wandered to the only time he’d tried to see Claire after she’d married, all of four years ago, and he winced.

  Claire’s husband, John, had met him in the yard in mid-dismount. “Don’t bother getting down,” he’d said, his jaw set firm. “Your kind ain’t welcome here, Tait.”

  His sister had stood at the screen door looking helpless.

  Tait had never gone back. He was good at staying far away from the ones who didn’t want him. If she’d written, her letters hadn’t found him. But then, he’d kept on the move except for his time in Hope’s Crossing. And now he’d never see his sister again.

  He stared at the twins. “Will you give me a fighting chance to prove myself?”

  “I guess,” both mumbled at once.

  “Good.” And just when he thought he could relax, Becky knocked over her glass, and milk drenched Tait’s trousers.

  He couldn’t wait for the meal to end. As soon as it did, he rushed to the telegraph office and left the children just inside by the door, telling them not to budge. He’d probably be able to keep an eye on them there, but where they were concerned, nothing was a sure thing.

  Tait got in line behind the reverend.

  Brother Paul concluded his business and turned. “Mr. Trinity, I’m glad I ran into you. I heard about your unexpected dilemma. I’ll be happy to move out of the church and you can live there until you find more suitable lodging.”

  Yeah, and there’d be the biggest lightning strike anyone had ever seen if he stepped foot in a church. That was one place he couldn’t go. He suppressed a shudder, remembering his father standing in the pulpit preaching fire and brimstone. Then another memory took its place—a dark barn, a razor strop, no one to save him.

  Tait gave the reverend a wide smile. “Thank you for the offer. I really appreciate it, but I’ve decided to put me and the children up at the hotel.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” Brother Paul stopped to chat with the children for a moment while Tait turned his attention to more pressing concerns. “I need to send a message right away, Shaughnessy.”

  The young clerk, smartly dressed in a pinstripe suit and bow tie, glanced up at him and then looked again, seemingly taken aback by Tait’s wretched appearance. “What happened, Mr. Trinity? Were you in a war?”

  Tait jerked his head toward the children in the doorway. No words were needed.

  “I understand.” Shaughnessy handed him a pad and pencil.

  Tait scribbled a plea.

  Urgent. Come quick. I’ll marry you the minute you step off the stage.

  He thought a second longer then licked the lead of the pencil and added:

  If you’ll still have me.

  Three

  Tait handed the piece of paper to Shaughnessy. “Send this immediately—to Melanie Dunbar in care of Luke Legend at the Lone Star Ranch.”

  “Sure thing. That’ll be two dollars, Mr. Trinity.”

  Once the telegram had been sent, Tait breathed a sigh of relief. He hated that all correspondence and messages had to go through Legend, but the man insisted on preserving the safety of both parties. His private matchmaking service was for men and women living in the shadows, folks who couldn’t seek a mate through normal channels, and Legend had his rules. Tait didn�
��t know Melanie’s story, but her past couldn’t be any worse than his own.

  Truth was Tait had everyone from the East Coast to the West scouring the country for him, and the government had declared him an enemy.

  A fine time for three kids to show up on his doorstep.

  “Are you finished, Mr. Trinity?” Pretty Nora Bowdre smiled at him and rested a hand on her large stomach, a paper clutched in the other.

  “Yes. Have a good day.” He stepped aside. Even with food inside him his head was still splitting, and nothing short of sleep would relieve the pain. Best get checked into the hotel.

  Outside the telegraph office, he grabbed the two oldest of the Truman ten and paid them to help move the kids’ luggage to the Diamond Bessie Hotel where he took a two-bedroom suite on the top floor.

  He was one step closer to much-needed sleep. Tait rustled the kids up the stairs. Only once he got to their floor, Tally Colby stood at the door to their room, blocking his path. “Mr. Trinity, I need a word.”

  “One moment.” He unlocked the door and shooed the children inside. She looked angry, but maybe she was only concerned that he might snap and forget he was the only close kin the kids had left.

  “Yes, Mrs. Colby?” He was proud of himself for managing a calm tone.

  Tally lowered her voice and pulled the door shut. “What is your experience caring for youngsters?”

  “None.” Tait tried to reach for the doorknob, only to be thwarted by Tally wedging in between again.

  “Then you need lessons. The welfare of these poor little darlings hangs in the balance.”

  He nearly choked. Poor little darlings? More like a gang of cutthroats—at least the twins.

  “I’m afraid this will have to wait. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He reached for the doorknob again with the same result.

  Tally scowled. “You don’t look well at all. Have you been sleeping all right?”

  “Not recently, no. It sounds like a great idea though.”

  “Then I want to suggest letting me keep the children until tomorrow and you can rest up. I’ll see you for lessons tomorrow, say around noon.” She was telling him, not asking.

  He didn’t know whether to kiss her or tell her this was none of her affair. But she was looking at the stairs, and fear set in she might leave. He grabbed her and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. In a matter of minutes, she left with the children in tow.

  Tait locked the door and staggered toward the big, beautiful, fluffy bed, sprawling face-first into the clean softness.

  * * *

  Melanie’s reply came the following day, and the week he awaited her arrival in Hope’s Crossing was filled to the brim. He took lessons in child-rearing from the women in town—mostly about caring for Becky. He tried his best to learn how to read the girl’s signs when she needed to visit the chamber pot, but it was very much a work in progress. He finally told her to yell out the word pot, and that seemed the solution. The women helped him with the laundry, for which he was accumulating a large number of owed favors.

  The boys persisted in their shenanigans. Once when Tait’s back was turned, they tied Becky onto a goat and slapped the animal’s rear to send it running. The girl hung on for dear life and lasted almost five minutes. She was a tough little thing.

  Then in response to his stern lecture, they’d put a snake in his boot.

  Tait and snakes didn’t mix. He didn’t mind spiders, scorpions, or tarantulas. Just don’t give him a snake.

  Against his best efforts to control them, Jesse and Joe pretty much ran wild. Every day Tait was approached by someone lodging a new complaint. He hung on by a thread.

  Clay caught up with him the morning following the goat and the snake incidents. “I need a word.”

  That seemed to be everyone’s favorite phrase these days, and Tait was sick of hearing it. “Can’t. I have to pick up Becky at the Bowdres’, find the twins, and fix a gate the boys broke.”

  Clay’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “You’ll be late. We have to talk.”

  “All right. Spit it out.”

  “You have to settle those boys down and make them mind.”

  “Or else what?” Irritation crawled up Tait’s neck.

  “Put the fear of God in them or we’ll ask you to leave the hotel.” Clay’s voice held a firmness Tait had never heard before. “I mean it. We’ve already had several guests walk out, saying they couldn’t get a wink of sleep for the boys running up and down the hallway. They’ve broken vases and knocked pictures off the walls while playing catch. The clerk has given notice that if they continue to act like heathens, he’s quitting.”

  Tait let out a long sigh. “I’ll lay down the law. Again.”

  “Make believers out of them. Keep them in their room for a day.” A look of terror crossed Clay’s face. “No, not their room. There won’t be anything left. Take them to the church. Let Brother Paul preach them to death. I think they’re bored. We need school to start, and soon.” Todd Denver, the schoolmaster, probably wasn’t that anxious. Not one bit.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Clay.”

  “When is your bride due to arrive?”

  “Any day, and she can’t come soon enough.” He gave the saloon a longing glance. His life was so different now that he didn’t recognize it. If he could just last until Melanie arrived. But that was starting to seem like one of those long shots he used to wager on.

  An hour later, Tait sat the boys down for a talk.

  “Me and Joe don’t like rules,” declared Jesse, crossing his arms.

  As a last resort, Tait ended up seeking Brother Paul’s help. However much that he and churches didn’t mix, he marched the boys over to the house of worship. They were halfway to the church when Joe balked. “I ain’t going there.”

  “Me either.” Jesse jutted his jaw.

  Tait wanted to balk as well. His mouth had gone dry and his chest heaved.

  “Too bad. You have no choice in the matter.” Tait kept herding them forward. On the steps, he almost relented. He glanced up at the blue sky, looking for bolts of lightning. When nothing happened, he opened the door and stepped into the domain he’d shunned for all his adult years. The cool interior seemed to reach for him with bony fingers. He shoved his memories aside and walked down the aisle, his bootheels resounding on the wooden floor.

  * * *

  After Tait left the boys with the minister for several hours, Brother Paul was able to shed some light for Tait. “The boys are afraid you’re going to give them to someone else to raise. They think if they act like holy terrors no one else will want them, and you’ll be forced to keep them.”

  “But they as much as admitted that they don’t want to live with me.”

  “That’s far from the truth. They harbor quite a fascination with you.” Brother Paul’s eyes twinkled. “Their father wouldn’t let them mention your name. He told them you stole pennies off dead men’s eyes and would rob your own mother. And then they witnessed your shoot-out. They think you’re the only one around tough enough to get justice for their parents.”

  Tait studied the floor. “I mean to try as soon as I get them settled.”

  “The boys have horrible nightmares about the men who killed their parents.”

  Why hadn’t he heard them? Maybe because they slept in a room across from the sitting area. And another reason could be that they hadn’t cried out.

  Losing their parents the way they had would scar the bravest man, and for boys, the terror of such a traumatic event would be unimaginable. Tait shook Brother Paul’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  The boys were quiet during the short walk back to the Diamond Bessie Hotel, and so was Tait. Once there, he sat them on the sofa. Their belligerence was gone. Becky crawled up beside them and put her hands over her eyes, peeking through
her fingers. It was all Tait could do to keep a straight face at her antics.

  “Is there anything you want to say?” he asked, his voice low.

  Jesse squinted up. “Are you going to keep us?”

  What the hell was he getting into? He didn’t know one dadgum thing about how to be a parent and should have his head examined. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. Their expectant faces staring up at him with such hope punched him in the gut. They didn’t have anyone else to care for them. To tuck them in at night or dry their tears.

  “Of course I’m keeping you. We’re family.”

  Joe scowled. “But we heard you say this is temporary.”

  Tait cringed as his words came back to slap him. “I was still trying to digest the news. I’m sorry for making you think that way. Come here.” He pulled them up for a hug. “You’re part of my life now. Okay?”

  Joe squinted up at him. “You’re not mad?”

  “No.” Tait sat down beside them on the sofa, silently vowing to do his duty instead of pawning them off on someone else. “Tell me about those riders who killed your parents.”

  Jesse’s face grew hard. “There were six of ’em. Daddy stepped out on the porch with a rifle, and they shot him dead.”

  Joe picked up the story. “We grabbed Becky, ran out the back to a little creek, and hid in the brush. They kept shooting and shooting and shooting. I was scared they’d find us.”

  “How long did the riders stay?” Tait’s voice was low.

  “Till dark.” Joe shivered. “We found Mama dead. Lots of blood. Will you go find ’em?”

  “Yeah, I’ll find ’em.” And then Tait would make them all very sorry they’d been born.

  “Shoot every one of them!” Jesse got up and ran into the bedroom where they slept.

  “Joe, did you see their faces?” Tait prayed the boys remembered enough to help him find them.

  “One or two. They looked real mean. One had gray hair and hound-dog eyes.”

  “Describe them.”

  “Well, his eyes had bags hanging under them like a hound dog.”