Mary Quite Contrary by Amelia Smarts

Chapter Eight

When Ben visited Mary, he told himself he was only doing it to fulfill his job duty. Her parents had asked Clyde to watch out for her, and Clyde had asked Ben, so it was easy to pretend that he was simply being conscientious about performing his work as a lawman. But every time he found himself in the same room with her, he knew the truth. Her kind eyes, her soft voice, and the way she conducted her business so capably throughout the restaurant sparked a desire in him he’d never felt before.

Her voice floated through Ben’s mind as he rode back to town from the Flaggerty place. Mr. Flaggerty had gotten into another row with the Hendricksons over the one-acre piece of land, and Clyde had asked Ben to settle it. Like before, he was able to talk them down using his words and wit before a weapon was even close to being drawn. He was getting a reputation around town as being a bit of a smartass, and he couldn’t deny it. During this altercation, he’d pointed in the direction of the land in question. “What would you even want of that land? It’s full of snake holes. Don’t believe me? Go take a look, but watch your step.”

Befuddled, Flaggerty had walked over to examine the land, giving Ben the opportunity to retrieve the man’s rifle from his wagon. When he came back and noticed his rifle in Ben’s hand, he shook his head. “Ya got me.” It was difficult to be self-righteous when you’d just been the target of a practical joke.

Ben said, “I’m still waiting to hear from the county about the property lines.”

“What if the papers don’t exist?”

“Then I reckon we could split it into two halves.”

“Then I want the half with the crick,” Flaggerty grumbled.

“And I want a woman’s lips wrapped around my cock, but instead I’m here talking to you about some dirt. We don’t always get what we want.” He swung up onto his horse and rode away, the sound of Flaggerty’s surprised chortle fading behind him.

Ben’s bay mare knew the way back to town, so he kept the reins on her loose. She jogged at a steady, comfortable pace, while Ben thought wryly to himself that his gunslinging skills were going completely to waste in Thorndale. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—in fact, it was a good thing—but Ben liked to be useful, and his most useful skill was a quick draw and perfect aim.

He spotted another rider in the distance, coming toward him at a quick pace. He soon recognized the horse, Clyde’s large gray gelding. Sensing urgency, Ben nudged his mare into a smarter trot with his heels behind her girth.

When the lawmen reached each other, they whoa’d to their horses. “Everything alright?” Ben asked Clyde. He’d never seen Clyde in any sort of hurry, even on his horse, which he invariably rode at a walk.

“Yes, but we may see some trouble,” said Clyde, his speech unusually hurried. “I wanted to fetch you ‘cause I need you in town. Is all settled between Flaggerty and Hendrickson?”

Ben nodded. “Today, anyway. I was able to get Flaggerty’s mind off it for the time being.”

Clyde nodded approvingly. “I knew I hired the right man. You prove it again and again.” He turned his horse toward town. “Let’s head back.”

Ben’s mare fell into step beside Clyde’s at a quick walk.

Clyde pulled his Stetson down, blocking the afternoon sun from his eyes, and said, “I got a telegram from the sheriff. He warned me that a gang of rough riders are headed to Thorndale. These are real bad guys, and the trouble is they’re smart. They’ve never been caught because they don’t make bold moves. Instead of robbing a bank, for example, they rob a small shop without any sort of security.”

Ben thought of Mary. “Or a restaurant,” he suggested.

Clyde nodded. “Exactly. The sheriff suspects they’ve robbed more than twenty small businesses in various towns, but they’re in and out so fast no one knows what hit them until it’s too late.”

“What should we do?”

“First things first, we warn all the owners of businesses on Main Street. I’ll alert the bank manager too just to be safe. Campbell has a shotgun behind the counter of his mercantile, so he should be able to defend his money. Same with the blacksmith. Mostly I’m concerned about Mary Appleton and Victoria Davis. The new schoolteacher in town, Frank Bassett, is said to be adequate with a gun, and he’s courting Miss Davis, so I’ll talk to him about protecting her for the next couple days.”

“I’ll guard the restaurant,” Ben said.

“Figured you would.”

Ben grunted, annoyed that the marshal could so easily see he had feelings for Mary.

“I’m going to ask Heath Wolfe to patrol some of the larger businesses. With any luck, we’ll catch these boys in action. That would be a good look for Thorndale. It’ll put us on the map, and our reputation as lawmen will be bolstered, which might mean better funding.”

Those politics were outside Ben’s knowledge or interest, but he nodded agreeably. Plus he had to admit that actually catching some real outlaws would make for a nice change to his otherwise uneventful job.

“Speaking of Heath,” Clyde continued, “how about him and Willow getting hitched? Don’t that beat all?”

“I would’ve thought pigs would fly first,” Ben said.

“Me too, but I’m happy for her. I knew she had it in her to settle down.”

Once they were back in town, Clyde and Ben parted ways. Ben delivered his horse to the livery. After making sure she had fresh water and a bag of oats, he walked to the well in the back pasture, where he knew he would find lavender and poppies. He picked around five of each and coiled the stems together using a thin strip of leather from his saddlebag. He looked at the bouquet with a critical eye and decided it was pretty enough to deliver to the woman taking up rent in his mind.

He headed for the restaurant. It was in between lunch and suppertime, so there were only a couple of diners lazily sipping coffee when he walked through the front door. The bell jangled.

Mary sat at a table in the back, folding cloth napkins. She looked up and waved when she saw Ben, then scooted her chair out from behind the table.

“Don’t get up,” he said as he approached her.

Ignoring him, she stood.

He shook his head. “Do you ever mind orders?” He was teasing her, but he was also reminded of her contrary nature when it came to her dealings with him.

She looked down at the flowers in his hand. A slow smile spread across her face. “For me?”

He handed them to her. “I thought they were mighty pretty, but now that they’re next to you, they might as well be mud. Your beauty outshines everything.”

She scoffed. “Oh, please. I’ve been hearing stories about you. You’re getting known for your smart mouth, but you’re so likeable no one seems to mind it. Thank you for the flowers. Have a seat. I’ll just put these in water and then we can talk.”

Ben sat across from where she’d been sitting. He examined his hands and, deciding they were clean enough, picked up a napkin and attempted to fold it the way Mary had the others, but he couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s like this,” she said, coming up behind him. She handed his strip of leather back to him, picked up a linen, and made a series of intricate folds that ended in an elegant design. Ben was acutely aware of her body next to him, especially when she leaned over and pressed her breast against his shoulder. He took in a sharp breath and inhaled the scent of her hair. She smelled better than the flowers he’d brought, and it was all he could do to keep from pulling her tight against him, flattening those gorgeous breasts against his chest.

She returned to her seat and watched as he attempted to mimic her napkin folding. He was able to create a loose replica, but it was far from impressive. He smiled at her. “You taught me a new skill. Maybe I can return the favor and teach you how to shoot a Smith and Wesson.”

“What makes you think I don’t know already?”

“Do you?”

“Yup. My pa says I’m quite a good aim too. Though nothing compared to you, of course. I know your reputation.”

“Care to show me later? I can take you to a good range west of the Flaggerty farm. There are strawmen up to aim at.”

“I would like that.” She placed his badly folded napkin in the pile she was creating. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to learn how to fold napkins.”

“Indeed I didn’t. That was a nice bonus.” He proceeded to explain what the marshal had told him about the thieves expected to arrive in town soon and how they were known to hit smaller establishments. He was about to give her a list of safety precautions to take but, reminded of how badly she’d responded to being told to lock the register, he tried a different approach. “How will you protect yourself, my dear?” he asked.

“Hmm,” she said, looking into the distance. “I reckon I could ask Carolyn to work every day for a bit. That way someone’s always in the dining room and the kitchen. Of course, I’ll continue to keep the register locked.” Pink tinged her cheeks, as she no doubt recounted the spanking that had followed her argument over keeping it locked.

“That’s smart thinking,” Ben said, in an attempt to put her at ease. “I know you usually keep the back door to the kitchen open, but you might consider locking that too.”

She nodded. “I can do that, though I fear it’ll get awful hot in that kitchen with the door closed.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Ben admitted. “How about this? During the hottest part of the day, I’ll stand guard out back so you can keep that door open?”

“Oh, I hate to ask you to do that,” she said.

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” he corrected, giving her a wink that served to deepen her blush.

***

As predicted, the suspected thieves arrived in Thorndale the next day. From Clyde’s estimation, there were eight of them. Since Mrs. Fairfax refused to board them at her boardinghouse, they set up camp about a mile outside of Thorndale. Clyde hired his adopted son Wade to keep watch over their camp and ride back using an alternate route to alert Clyde when they were on the move.

Ben was impressed by Clyde’s coordinating skills. Every place of business, from the livery to the bank, was being surveilled by at least one deputized man. With any luck, someone would catch the thieves during the commission of a crime and the men would be arrested and charged.

It was just after noon, and Ben sat behind a large barberry shrub in the back of Mary’s Restaurant. From his vantage point, he could clearly see the open back door to the kitchen, and he could even spot Mary occasionally walking by. He kept his eyes peeled for any movement in the shadows and his ears attuned to the crunch of brush under someone’s feet.

One thing no one explains to lawmen before they take a job protecting and serving is how incredibly tedious surveillance work is. It requires being alert for endless stretches of time during which the person is doing absolutely nothing of interest, but the moment something happens, being able to spring into action. Doze off or look in the wrong direction even briefly, and the whole operation can be ruined.

The open back door to the restaurant would be an attractive entry point for a couple of thieves. Ben hoped they would be so bold while he was surveying. His fingers itched to clamp handcuffs around the outlaws’ wrists and to make the highly anticipated arrests. But the first day, no one attempted to broach the entrance.

No one attempted on the second, third, or fourth day either. In fact, the newcomers to town were so quiet and unobtrusive that Clyde told Ben he wondered if the sheriff had made a mistake about them. A couple of the men were even polite. They ate lunch at the restaurant every day, paid the full bill, then tipped their hats and left.

“They seem perfectly lawful,” Mary told Ben on the fourth evening.

Ben agreed, but he was still suspicious. “They could be staking out the place,” he said.

She shook her head doubtfully. “You’re wasting your time, sitting outside behind the bush watching the back door all afternoon.”

“Protecting you is not a waste of time,” he said. But truth be told, he was getting tired of the surveillance work. His neck and back ached from remaining in the same position for hours at a time, and the afternoon sun had burned his exposed skin a deep shade of red.

Mary sighed. “When do you think they’ll leave?”

“I don’t know. They’re probably planning to leave immediately after they hit a business. That’s why we have to stay vigilant, even though we’re all sick of it.”

“I heard Heath and Flaggerty have gone back to their ranches. They can’t afford to stake out any longer.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Clyde told me. He wants me to do more patrolling to make up for their absence. That means I can’t watch your back door the whole time and you must keep it closed and locked when I’m not around.”

Her jaw tightened, and she glared at him. Ben realized his mistake immediately. He had once again ordered her to do something, and she did not like it.

“This is not the time to prove your independence, Mary,” he said, his voice taking on a stern edge. “I’m sorry to be giving you orders, but I know more about thieves than you do.”

“And I know more about how to run my restaurant,” she said. “I don’t want to endure insufferable heat with the door closed just because some bad man might cross the threshold.”

“But that’s what you must do,” he said firmly.

“I can keep a gun in my apron in case anyone walks in.”

“Good idea. But your first line of defense should be a locked door. Tell me you’ll do as I say. I’ll worry for your safety otherwise.”

Her face relaxed and her eyes softened into the kind expression that so bewitched Ben. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Promise me then,” he said. He cupped her chin with his hand and stared into her dark eyes, wanting nothing more than to capture her lips with his. But he settled for brushing his lips against her cheek, a chaste gesture, but one that was not without intimacy. He heard the sharp intake of her breath and felt the way her flesh warmed under his touch.

“I promise,” she whispered.