Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02] (3 page)

By the sound of rising voices, the crowd outside was growing restless. “Time to go. Ladies, your gloves.”

While her sisters donned their gloves, Jenny checked her own appearance in the beveled glass mirror over the dresser.

She hadn’t fussed much with herself other than to pull her thick blonde hair into a no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck. Her blue gown was almost as plain as Brenda’s, but not for the same reason. Her slender form might have benefited from a ruffle or two, and her hat had seen better days, but the excitement of seeing her dreams for her sisters about to materialize put a shine in her eyes and brought a blush to her cheeks.

If she was successful in her quest for suitable husbands, her sisters would never want for anything again. Maybe then she could put the past behind her.

Maybe then she might even be able to forgive herself.

She clapped her hands. “Remember, now. Smile and act like ladies.”

Three

Charm and composure must prevail at all times. If a gunfight
erupts, exit the scene with grace and serenity.

— M
ISS
A
BIGAIL
J
ENKINS
, 1875

M
arshal Rhett Armstrong should have known trouble was brewing. He’d first spotted those boldly worded posters early that morning when he rode into town. How could he miss them? They were plastered everywhere, even on the door of his office.

Most men would take offense at the tone of the posters, but none did more than he. The nerve of the woman. Did she really think the men of Rocky Creek would stand for such nonsense? Financial proof, indeed!

Who was this woman? And what gave her the right?

She obviously had a thing or two to learn about his town, and he was just the man to teach it to her. He ripped the poster off the door and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. No man in his right mind would fall for such feminine foolishness.

By the time he heard the commotion outside, close to a hundred men had proven him wrong. At least half of them were proving it with their fists.

Rhett ran outside where a brawl was in full swing. He pulled out his pistols, pointed the barrels toward the sky, and fired. The loud pop of gunfire got the brawlers’ attention, and for a fleeting moment the rowdy men froze in place, some with their fists midair.

“Get up, all of you,” Rhett bellowed. One by one, the men staggered to their feet, some with bloodied lips.

Satisfied that order had been restored, at least temporarily, Rhett holstered his guns and followed the line of men all the way to the hotel. “If there’s any more trouble, you’ll all find yourselves in jail.”

He reached the front of the line, which started at the Grand. Three wide-eyed women stood on the boardwalk in front of the hotel staring at him.

Well, now. He hadn’t seen so much feminine finery since he’d last traveled to New Orleans. Womenfolk came to town to shop at Fairbanks General Merchandise and attend Sunday worship service. But since there wasn’t much else to do on Main Street but drink and act rowdy, women mostly stayed away.

That’s why he was surprised to see several members of the Rocky Creek Quilting Bee in town so early. The show hadn’t even begun, and already the women’s mouths puckered in disapproval.

Rhett pushed his hat back on his head, leaned against a wooden post, and hooked his thumbs onto the belt of his holster.

At the front of the crowd, a tall woman with hair the color of honey stepped forward and regarded the men with a slow, sweeping glance that registered neither disappointment nor approval.

Her eyes met his with none of the usual feminine fluttering of eyelashes, matching him stare for stare.

Bold as a bull, she was, with flashing blue eyes and a stubborn chin that rose a notch higher as she gazed at him. He sensed her measuring him against standards that he didn’t have a prayer of meeting.

She studied him with keen interest before glancing at the shiny marshal’s badge on his vest. Her eyes narrowed and an obvious look of dismissal crossed her face before she turned away.

He squinted and tightened his jaw. She knew nothing about him and yet she had clearly judged him and found him lacking. Only two other people had been foolish enough to make that mistake, and both had lived to regret it. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that this was the woman old man Applegate called
the colonel
.

Well, she was the prettiest colonel he’d ever set eyes on, that’s for sure, even if she did lack tact or the ability to judge a man on more than just appearance and bank account.

She lifted her voice and addressed the crowd with businesslike demeanor. “My name is Miss Jenny Higgins,” she said. She held a leather notebook in one hand and wielded a parasol in the other.

You could have heard a pin drop as the men hung onto her every word. Even the Quilting Bee members fell silent.

One by one, Miss Higgins introduced her sisters, pointing out their many accomplishments. Rhett was surprised to see Miss Higgins’s gaze soften as she regarded each of her sisters with evident pride. Both young women stepped forward in turn and the crowd went wild. The men shouted approval. They clapped and stomped their feet, tossing their hats in the air.

Brenda Higgins was the plump one with brown hair, unlike her blonde sisters. Dressed more conservatively than her slender siblings, she won the crowd over with her shy smile.

The one named Mary Lou made no such attempt to endear herself. If anything, she looked bored to tears. Not that it seemed to matter. The men were too dazzled by her big blue eyes, blonde hair, and shapely figure to care about anything else. They stomped their feet and called her name.

Mrs. Hitchcock clucked her tongue in disapproval, the feathers on her shiplike hat flying in every direction. “Disgusting,” she said, repeating herself.

Next to her, Mrs. Taylor trembled with outrage. “There ought to be a law against women parading around like that.”

Both women glared at Rhett as if it were his fault that no such law existed. He shrugged and turned his attention back to Miss Jenny Higgins.

“I love you, Mary Lou,” one spectator called out.

Jenny cast a disapproving glance in his direction and the others, taking the hint, fell silent.

Rhett was amazed how quickly
the colonel
could control the crowd. While he sometimes required a gun to manage a mob, her weapon of choice was nothing more than a disapproving glance and the men grew still as tombstones.

Jenny glanced at her sisters as if to offer encouragement. The soft, loving look she gave them came and went so quickly, Rhett wondered if he imagined it.

Her expression now stern, she cleared her throat. “As you know, I’m looking for husbands for my two sisters.”

This announcement drew shouts of approval from the men and groans of protests from the women. Mrs. Hitchcock swooned and looked about to faint, but Mrs. Taylor quickly relieved her of that notion with a firm shaking.

Jenny frowned and waited for quiet.

A man whom Rhett recognized as Timber Joe yelled out, “Just let us know where we can sign up.”

Men began to push and shove, trying to move closer to the hotel, but Jenny could not be persuaded to rush things.

“Not all of you need sign up,” she said, her voice ringing with command. “I shall only consider those of you with adequate financial means.”

“Shucks!” Theo Barker moaned. “That leaves me out.”

“Better luck next time,” someone yelled.

Jenny gave the wooden railing one swift rap with her parasol, commanding silence. “Along with a bank statement proving financial means, I insist that you be of good moral character.”

She quickly listed the qualities she sought: honesty, devotion, and kindness. “Vulgar language will not be tolerated, nor will a man who spits in public. And if you have a fondness for whisky or gambling, do not bother filling out an application.”

Consulting her notebook, she continued to list her stringent requirements, which included how a man should talk, walk, and dress.

Rhett’s eyebrows kept rising. No such man existed. At least he hoped not.

A few men left, but most stayed, including those whom Rhett knew didn’t have a gnat’s chance in a sandstorm of meeting her strict standards.

“You must also prove you know how to treat a lady,” Jenny continued.

“How can we prove
that
?” one man shouted.

Jenny leveled him with eyes cool enough to douse a prairie fire. “If you have to ask, then you’re probably not qualified to be a husband.”

Turning back to the crowd, she resumed her instructions. “You are not to make contact with my sisters without my express permission. If your application is approved, I shall inform you as to which of my sisters you may court.”

Inching his way around the outer circle of the crowd, Marshal Armstrong studied the faces of the men and was stunned by what he saw. Each man hung on to her every word. Indeed, they were practically eating out of her hands.

Traitors! All of them.

What was the matter with these men? A woman couldn’t just stand up and announce she was looking for husbands like so many head of cattle. It wasn’t right. Such delicate matters should be discussed in parlor rooms, behind closed doors.

The only male growing up in a household that included his mother, grandmother, and three sisters, Rhett had a strong opinion on what constituted proper behavior for a woman, and
Colonel
Jenny clearly failed on all accounts.

“Fill out this application,” she said. The men called out and waved their arms as she walked through their ranks, passing out forms.

Rhett shook his head. The way the men carried on, you’d think she was handing out currency instead of life sentences.

That did it! Someone in this town had to restore order, if not sanity. He waited until she stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the hotel and again faced the men. He then made his move.

Forging a path through the crowd, he charged up the steps and confronted her head-on. Her two sisters moved away, allowing him full rein.

“Now see here, miss,” he began. He remained cool on the outside, but inside he seethed. His anger was fueled as much by her earlier dismissal of him as it was by the trouble she caused.

Had he expected her to cower or drop her uppity demeanor, he would have been sorely disappointed. She didn’t look the least bit intimidated by him. Not a good thing.

Up close, she was even taller than he supposed, but he still towered over her, forcing her to lift her head to look him in the eye.

She didn’t even flinch. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get in line and wait your turn like everyone else.”

“Wait my—” he sputtered. “I have no desire to—”

“Just write it on the application,” she said. She held up a form.

“I’m not filling out your blasted application.”

Her gaze locked with his. “How can you expect me to consider you as husband material if you refuse to fill out a simple form?”

“Miss . . .”

“Higgins.”

“Miss Higgins, I am here for one reason and one reason alone. I am the town marshal, and you are creating a disturbance.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I believe you have that wrong, Marshal.
You
are the one creating a disturbance. I am merely trying to do what I came here to do.”

He leaned over until his nose practically touched hers. “Well, you’re going to have to take your business elsewhere. Me and the boys here don’t take kindly to having our finances and morals scrutinized by a stranger.”

His combative attitude gave others the courage to voice their own objections.

“You’re darn tootin’ I don’t want my morals scrut’nized,” someone called out. “Give a woman an inch and the next thing you know, she’ll want to scrut’nize
ev’rythin
’.”

Obviously sensing a shift in the men’s demeanor, Jenny’s eyes blazed. “Now look what you’ve done, Marshal.”

He pulled back, but not far away enough to escape her delicate lavender scent. “What
I’ve
done? You’re the one who came to town and got the men all riled up.”

“And as soon as I have finished my business, I shall leave,” she assured him.

“If there’s any more trouble, you’ll be leaving
before
you’ve conducted your business. You can be certain of that.”

“Here’s something
you
can be certain of, Marshal. I have no intention of being told what I can and cannot do.”

Having his authority questioned in front of all these men was intolerable. All eyes were on him, waiting. Though no one moved, he could almost hear their thoughts.
What are you going to do about it, Marshal?

He leveled her with cool assessing eyes. “You’ll do exactly what I say.”

“You can’t make me—”

“The last person who said that to me is now cooling his heels in jail.” He placed his hand on the handcuffs at his side to show he meant business.

Her mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t!”

He tilted his head back and glowered at her. “Try me.”

Mary Lou wanted to die. The horror of it all. Never had she felt so embarrassed in all her born days. All these men ogling her. Now the marshal threatening to put Jenny in jail.

During the escalating argument, the men standing in line seemed to enjoy the spectacle. Some even took bets as to who would emerge the victor. This only added to Mary Lou’s misery. If Jenny ended up in jail, Mary Lou would never be able to show her face again.

To make matters worse, she was hot. Though it was only the beginning of June, already it felt like summer. She felt sticky and itchy and just plain miserable. There had to be an easier way to find a husband. Unable to stand another humiliating moment, she picked up her skirts and hurried into the relatively cool hotel lobby, away from prying eyes and unrelenting sun.

Jenny would be furious with her, of course, but Mary Lou didn’t care a whit about that. All she wanted to do was leave this awful town. What she would give to go back home to Haswell, but that was no longer possible. Jenny sold their small farm and was determined to use every last penny, if necessary, to find suitable husbands for her and Brenda.