The Brides Of Tombstone 01 Mail Order Outlaw (4 page)

Who needed Ed?

* * *

By the time Monday came around, Lizzie was feeling sorry for Mal and glad he needed to go to the bank.

“You look dog tired.” She harnessed the horses to the buckboard. “You will get used to the work, I promise you.”

“It’s nothing. I’m already less sore than I was yesterday.” He rolled his head in circles, stretching his neck. “I just need to work the kinks out.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would. I figured you’d be out of here Saturday night. When you still stayed last night, I thought ‘maybe he has a future here after all’.”

He chuckled. “How long did your mama give me?”

Lizzie laughed. “She thought you’d be out of here Sunday night. She said you have more sticking power than most city slickers.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not a city slicker.”

“Sure you are.” She didn’t understand his irritation at the term and wondered where he’d heard it before. “You came from San Francisco didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m—”

“Sure it does. You didn’t grow up here or anyplace else out in the country, did you?”

He shook his head and shifted his gaze away. “No, I didn’t.”

She shrugged. “See. City slicker.”

“Do you have to sound so delighted by that possibility?”

Lizzie clapped him on the back and laughed. “Ah, don’t feel bad, Mal. Not everyone can be as lucky as me.”

He was strong. A lesser man would have been sent to the dirt when she clapped his back

* * *

They arrived in town and Lizzie was determined to introduce Mal to everyone. He was tall and good looking and she wanted every man and every woman who’d ever snubbed her or looked down on her, to get a good look at the man she was to marry.
Maybe
.

The first place she needed to take him was the bank and that would work out nicely. John Peterson was one of the men who’d sneered at her growing up and then tried to take advantage when they were older. The man could be a real bastard, but Lizzie was sure that someday he’d get what was coming to him. Who knows, maybe under all that bluster was a beating heart.

About eleven o’clock she and Mal walked into the Tombstone Bank, Mal carrying his valise. They went directly to John Peterson’s office and walked in through the open door

“What can I do for you today Lizzie Cobb? Here to put another mortgage on that ranch of yours?” John Peterson stood as soon as they walked in. “I wish you’d stop paying them off, I’d like to get my hands on the property, you know.”

“Exactly why I keep paying them off, John. I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Malcolm Brandon. Mal this is John Peterson, president of the Tombstone Bank.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Mal moved the valise to his left hand and held out his right to shake hands.

John took Mal’s hand and shook it. “Fiancé, huh. Didn’t think Lizzie Cobb would ever find a man to marry her. What can I do for you today, Mr. Brandon?”

Mal retrieved his hand from John and put his arm around her. “Lizzie is just too beautiful for the men around here. They appear more suited to livestock”

John narrowed his eyes. “At least my livestock isn’t a half breed.”

Mal took his arm from around her shoulders and dropped the valise to the floor. With both hands now free, he asked. “Would you like to step outside, Peterson? We can settle this like men and then I’ll take my thirty-five thousand someplace else.”

“No. Wait. Did you say thirty-five thousand? Dollars?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry about what I said about Lizzie. She’s a fine woman. Please.”

Mal turned to Lizzie. “What do you say? Should we stay here or go to the City of Tombstone Bank down the street?”

She tapped her forefinger on her chin. “Hmm. Well he did say he’s sorry and I have been doing business here for years. I say forgive him and make the deposit.”

“Yes, please and please sit down,” he pointed at the two chairs in front of his desk.

Mal and Lizzie each took one.

Mal picked up the valise and set it on his lap. “Very well, I’d like to set up and account. I want it to be in both my name and Lizzie’s.”

“Bu…but you’re not married yet?” said Peterson.

“No, but I have faith that we will be.” He looked as Lizzie and smiled.

She smiled back and dropped her gaze.

“I want to make sure that Lizzie is taken care of if something should happen to me.”

Peterson shook his head. “Well, I ain’t never set up an account between two unmarried people. Most the time men don’t even want their wives name on the accounts, much less a fiancée.”

“Well, I’m not most men. Can you set up the account or not? Perhaps the City of Tombstone Bank would be more accommodating.”

“No…no. I can set you up.” Peterson reached for his deposit slips and new account paperwork. “We’ve never had such a large cash deposit before from a resident. We get the mining payrolls and they are much larger, of course, upwards of one hundred and seventy thousand last month.”

“Even with all the silver mines around here?”

“Oh sure, but thirty-five thousand in refined silver nuggets is a heck of a lot of ore. We usually get the silver in smaller amounts.”

Mal began to unload the cash onto John’s desk. The stacks the money made were quite impressive. John and Lizzie both counted with Mal as he placed the packets on the desk.

“First let me give you a receipt for this.” John recounted the money.

“I want to keep out one thousand dollars.” Mal grabbed one of the packets and counted the currency out.

Lizzie’s jaw about dropped. “What do you need a thousand dollars for?”

“I thought we’d go look at the Abernathy place and if we can decide on a price, I’d give him a down payment of five hundred dollars. The other half is to get gifts for you when I want, and to buy some new science books for Jamie. Does he like Jules Verne?”

Smiling she nodded. “He’s his favorite author. I think he has every book he’s ever written.”

“Good. I had dreams when I was a kid that didn’t include opening a dry goods store. I wanted to be a teacher and science was one of my favorite subjects, too. I want Jamie to be able to live his dream.”

“Mal. That’s very generous but I don’t know…”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, then turned it over and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Trust me, Lizzie. I’ll be here for you and for him. Let me do this for Jamie.”

She snatched her hand back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Staking my claim,” he said quietly.

“Uh hum,” Peterson cleared his throat. “Here is your receipt for thirty-four thousand dollars. Let me know if you do buy the Abernathy place. We’d be happy to do the paperwork and prepare the deed of transfer and ownership.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, John.” Mal stood and extended his hand. “Mighty kind, indeed.”

Once they had the deposit receipt and cash in hand, they left the bank.

“I’m taking you to my favorite general store. You should be able to find whatever you want here,” said Lizzie. “They carry just about everything.”

“I want to see if I can find something for Atina that might put me in her good graces.”

“She likes things for the kitchen and colorful scarves, but if you really want to get her to like you, buy her the set of canisters she’s had her eye on. They are ceramic and very expensive, totally impractical, but she’s been saving for them and the matching cookie jar.”

Mal grabbed Lizzie by the shoulders and hugged her. “I could kiss you. That’s exactly what I’ll get her. Let’s hope we can get them home without busting any.”

Heat rose up Lizzie’s neck and settled to points in her cheeks. She was inordinately pleased that she’d made him happy, and wished he had actually kissed her.

He loosened his hold on her but didn’t release her.

“As a matter of fact,” He bent his head and whispered in her ear. “If we weren’t in public and if I didn’t care about your reputation, I would kiss you.

She felt wanton because she wanted that kiss, too. They shouldn’t be kissing at all, not in public and not after just knowing him for a few days.

But that was just it. They’d been corresponding for months and Lizzie felt she knew him. Yet the Mal here in front of her was somehow different than the one who’d written those letters. He was a contradiction, both more thoughtful and less blustery than she’d found him in his writings and yet wanting to kiss her in public. Oh, the first two notes had been full of normal things—getting to know each other, family, or lack thereof. That kind of stuff. But now that he was here, he seemed different. But how could that be?

“Lizzie. Lizzie.” Mal snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“What? Oh, yes, let’s go to the store.” She swung around and headed down the street.

“What were you thinking about so hard?”

She gazed at Mal and found him frowning back at her. “I was just thinking about how you seem different now than you did in your letters.”

He jerked his head in her direction. “Different how?”

“I don’t know.”
I wish I knew, there’s just something…off.
“I can’t put my finger on it. Just different.”

“Maybe because I know what I want now, and I didn’t before. I want you.”

“That’s nice.” She shook her head. “But let’s not rush things. We still have a lot of gettin’ to know each other to do.”

“I know, but I also know what I want, and my old life isn’t it. I want this new life more than you’ll ever know.”

“Alright,” she narrowed her eyes. “Well, if that’s what you believe, then let’s get going. You and I got a lot of learning to do.”

The bell above the door tinkled as they entered the Harbinger’s Mercantile.

“Be right there.” The feminine voice sounded like it came from a back room.

“It’s all right Sally, it’s just me,” called Lizzie.

“Lizzie.” A tall, slender woman, with dark blonde hair and a quick smile, appeared in the back doorway and then hurried to greet them. “What are you doing in town on a Monday? You were just here on Saturday.”

“I brought Mal here into town.” She waved a hand in his direction. “I wanted him to meet folks. He’s my fiancé.” Her chest filled with pride.
Her fiancé
.

The proprietress looked him up and down, then laughed. “You wanted to show him off and no wonder. Is this the Mal you’ve been writing to? Silly me, of course it is. Nice to meet you, I’m Sally Hughes, Lizzie’s best friend.”

Mal took off his hat. “Pleased to meet you ma’am.”

“No ma’am, just Sally.” She turned back to Lizzie. “I don’t suppose I can get any supplies for you? You just stocked up.”

“Actually, Mal wants to get some gifts for Mama and Jamie. And he needs clothes for himself, especially a new hat. Maybe a black Stetson. That bowler hat looks a little silly out here and doesn’t give you any protection from the weather.”

“That so.” Sally put her arm around the crook in Mal’s elbow and walked him to the counter at the back of the store. “What can I interest you in handsome?”

Seeing her friend’s behavior made Lizzie roll her eyes. Sally never met a stranger. Her parents leaving her the store when they died was the best thing they could have done. She thrived on the contact with the customers. Then she married Charlie Hughes. a man as shy as she was outgoing. Even so it was a good match.

Lizzie followed them. “Where’s Charlie?”

“He’s in back doing the books and taking stock of what we need so he can place the order for more supplies.” She let go of Mal’s arm and went behind the counter. “If you’re looking for a gift for Atina, can’t go wrong with these canisters she’s been eyeing.” She pulled down a large jar with a farm scene along the side, a rooster the most prominent figure.

“Yes, uh, I’ve been told about those and that you have a cookie jar to match. I’d like all of them wrapped up.”

Sally collected the canisters from one of the shelves behind the counter, which contained all sorts of glassware. “Will do. Now, what do you want for Jamie? I think the only things he likes to do are read and fish.”

Mal, hand on his chin, looked around at the stacks of goods in the store.

Lizzie knew they carried just about anything anyone could want, but Mal looked kind-of like a kid in a candy store with too many things to choose from. That seemed strange for a man who’d been in the dry goods business for years. There seemed to be a lot of contradictions with Mal, that she didn’t expect based on his letters.

He turned back to Sally. “Hadn’t heard about fishing, but do you have any books he’d like?”

She walked over to the shelves on the wall by the window and picked out a couple of books from the selection there. “I do have some new ones he might be interested in. I try to keep something for him all the time. He goes through them so quickly though, it’s difficult. Here are the latest by Jules Verne, called
The Steam House
and
Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon
. There is also this book on astronomy. Plus, I don’t know if you’re interested in something like this, but this telescope was bought with him in mind. Thought Lizzie might want it for his birthday.”