Chapter Three #2
“We… we were supposed to arrive later,” she said quickly, gathering her wits. She didn’t have much information, but that didn’t scare her. Where Ada was tough and Etta was sweet, June was clever: she could manipulate any situation to their advantage without needing much information.
Keep him talking. She compelled herself to remain calm, although her pulse was pounding. “We sent letters ahead of us to tell you that we were coming a touch earlier than originally expected. Did you not receive them?” she added, looking at him innocently.
“Oh,” said Sheriff Landry, blowing out a sharp breath. “Well, it seems that your letter was lost.”
“Oh… I see.” June spared a glance at Etta and Ada, a silent signal to let her do most of the talking. They knew the drill well.
“So sorry to trouble you, sir,” Etta piped up softly.
The sheriff nodded at her with a friendly smile. “Lucky for you, we’re prepared for you anyway. Everyone’s been waiting for the mail order brides.”
The word “brides” made June’s heart thump painfully in her chest. Mail-order? What in tarnation? Were mail-order brides common out here?
Apparently not, considering how the three of them had gotten the attention of practically the entire town.
Then her heart went into double-time as the sheriff looked her in the eye and asked, “You’re Annabelle Matthews, right? And these are your sisters?”
Etta and Ada were both silent, but June could tell by the way they looked at each other and then her, that they didn’t know what to say next.
She had to say something—fast. “Annabelle Williams—yes. Yes, that’s me. And… my sisters.” She nodded slowly, a hesitant grin pulling at her lips, careful not betray her lie.
I guess my name is Annabelle now. Hopefully Ada and Etta would know not to call her June.
They’d pulled a lot of tricks in the past few years, but never anything as extreme as impersonating other people.
And now, they’d just have to wait until the sheriff mentioned the other brides’ names to know who Ada and Etta were supposed to be.
I still need more information. June needed to know as much as possible to figure out what kind of scam they’d have to pull to get out of this mess. For now, the key was to remain steady. Friendly, but not overly loose-lipped.
Sheriff Landry gave them all sympathetic looks. Clearly, he wasn’t blind to their disheveled state. “How about we get you to a room at the boardinghouse for the night?”
Before June could respond, he turned and gave a shout. “Whitman!” He waved at one of the buildings across the street—the one with the word SHERIFF was roughly inscribed on a small metal signpost out front.
June felt an involuntary tremor. Is he calling for a deputy?
Just then, a tall, rugged man emerged from the sheriff’s office and jogged down the street toward them.
As he approached, June couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a man he was.
He didn’t look like any deputy she’d ever seen before.
His eyes were menacing, and a long, weary shadow seemed to spread across his brow.
His jaw, covered by a thick black beard, was strong, and his posture confident.
He met her eyes with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine as he slowed his pace to reach them.
“Ah, here he is,” the sheriff said, chuckling lightly. “Seth, this is Annabelle Matthews, your bride-to-be.”
He said it in a joking tone, but June wasn’t quite sure that it landed, because the man called Seth curled his lip and looked away, almost bitterly.
She eyed him warily. Some future husband. But she held a hand out to him anyway, playing her part as well as she knew how. “Annabelle Matthews…”
“Seth Whitman. Pleasure,” he grumbled, but June got the feeling that he thought it was the exact opposite of a “pleasure.”
And then he took her hand.
As soon as their skin touched, a jolt of electricity scoured through June’s arm and down her spine. Her heart raced; her mouth went dry. And for the first time, she got a real look at his eyes. They were green. Like emeralds.
She’d stolen an emerald or two before. That had always been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—until now.
Now it was Seth Whitman’s eyes.
Quickly, June pulled her hand away, hoping to get hold of herself, but the sensation lingered. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the man in front of her… something that made her feel both drawn to him and extremely wary at the same time.
The last time she had found a man attractive and mysterious, he’d ended up owning her.
“Henry!” Another man was now running down the street toward them.
June tried not to scowl. How many men are going to come out of their holes?
“Is this them?” he asked, huffing and puffing as he came to a halt in front of the group.
He looked strikingly similar to the sheriff, if a few years younger.
Sheriff Landry chuckled and gestured to him. “Ladies, this is my brother, Jack Landry. He owns the general store in town.” He seemed quite proud of that, and his brother—Jack—lifted his chin, looking confident.
Ada scoffed. June elbowed her in the ribs before she could say anything else. All three girls had seen their fair share of business-owning men who thought they were something because they had a little money. The sheriff’s brother laughed, holding out his hand. “Jack Landry.”
Henry grinned. “Jack, these three are the Matthews sisters. They look just like they were described. Annabelle, Sophie, and Mary. I haven’t gotten which one is Sophie or Mary yet. Annabelle is the oldest sister here…”
“I’m Sophie!” Ada called out, almost mockingly.
“Mary…” Etta murmured, clearly less confident about the situation.
“Wonderful!” the sheriff exclaimed. “Sophie, meet Jack, your husband-to-be.”
“Ah… yes. Jack.” Ada was clearly trying not to grimace—likely second-guessing her impersonation of Sophie. Her carefully controlled expression might have been humorous under different circumstances, but now…
June swallowed hard. As friendly as the sheriff seemed, she couldn’t shake her suspicions. What’s this really about? Were the men truly expecting mail-order brides, or was this part of some elaborate trap?
“Let’s get you ladies settled in,” the sheriff suggested, clearly eager to move things along. “The boarding house is waiting for you.”
“I’m going back to the ranch,” growled Seth Whitman.
Sheriff Landry gave him a reproving look. “Seth, the ladies are here. You should consider staying in town for a little longer.”
Whitman scowled and shook his head. “You know where to find me,” he huffed, turning around so sharply that dust flew up from his heels. June’s eyes followed him as he jogged back to the horse that was tied out front at the sheriff’s office.
What kind of a man is Seth Whitman?
“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mary.” The sheriff’s words interrupted June’s thoughts.
Belatedly, she looked back at him to see that he was practically transfixed by Etta.
To June’s surprise, Etta seemed to like the attention.
She was shyly looking down at her feet, a more-than-faint blush rising on her cheeks.
Ada cleared her throat. “We heading to the boardinghouse?”
The sheriff chuckled softly. “Yes, yes. Come on, ladies. Let’s get you settled!”
They followed him toward the boarding house. A knot was drawing excruciatingly tight in June’s stomach. She had always prided herself on her ability to read a situation, to take control of it. But this—this was a twist she hadn’t seen coming.
Mail-order brides? She had heard of them, of course. In fact, they were a big to-do in some of the households where she’d worked and thieved with Ada and Etta. They’d heard from more than one young wealthy woman who’d been excited to travel further out west after a successful correspondence.
But never in a thousand years had June planned to be one—let alone be mistaken for one!
Now what do we do?
***
Etta and Ada were in fits of giggles, jumping on their freshly made beds in the new room. June, however, was not in the mood for games. She sat on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on her knees as her legs dangled over the side.
Sheriff Landry, his brother, and the boarding house owner, Louise Williams TK, had all been more than accommodating. All three girls had gotten hot baths, two nice meals, and this lovely room with three beds.
June couldn’t relax for a moment of it. This was a big scam they would have to run, and it wasn’t even planned.
She’d only wanted to steal a few things saddlebags around town until they could pay for transportation back east. Then they could get to another big town, clean a few houses, steal from those people, and head back to Galveston to find Trey and pay up.
But now they had to have at least two plans. One to successfully pose as brides, and another to continue stealing until they had enough to pay for transportation back east… and bring some loot to Trey.
And I need to think of some way to placate him about how we disappeared after a botched job. Plan three.
“Henry is such a handsome man,” Etta giggled as she rolled to her stomach on the bed, her palms resting on either side of her crimson-flushed cheeks.
Ada also giggled—a startling sound, coming from Ada. “He looks just like his brother. But I think Jack needs a beard, too. He looks like he’s barely fifteen—too young to even think about getting married.”
June tried to ignore them and rerun the day in her head.
Nothing was making sense. They had sent Trey a letter to buy a little time, and June had lied and told him that they were hitting it large.
She’d had to. After the botched theft, he would definitely be expecting a grand haul from them, if for nothing else than to atone for how he’d have to get them out of trouble with the Galveston law again.
The plan she’d made as she’d mailed the letter was simple: steal from some people, buy a train ticket, and get out of town—quick.