A Mail Order Bride for Thanksgiving (Love by Mail #5)(11)

Chapter 6


“You didn’t have to come to the market with me,” Betty said, taking the basket from her husband. “Just rest for a bit before you have to get back to work again tomorrow.”

But John had a stubborn side to him that only surfaced when it came to Betty – and helping other people.

“Well, I knew you were gonna be carrying a lot.” John placed a tied bunch of five carrots inside the already loaded basket. His eyes roamed from crate to crate checking the vegetables and fruit on display.

“That’s because you want second helpings of everything,” Betty said, nudging him with a smile.

“Not my fault you cook really well.” John nudged her back.

They smiled at each other.

But Betty was eager to get back to the shopping, so she quickly turned back to the stall. With John by her side, groceries always took twice as long to sort out. Primarily because they couldn’t stop teasing each other. It was a pleasant distraction, but a distraction nevertheless.

“No wonder it smells like a pig sty.”

They both turned to the left to see Stephen Sternham and his sister, Sylvia walk up to the next stand. The dainty young girl with ribbons in her long blond hair picked through the fruit on display.

“I’ve heard Injuns don’t bathe,” Sylvia muttered and wrinkled her nose.

“Actually they do,” John said. “In fact, they use the juice from berries in their hair and –”

“Is that why your wife smells like the woods?” Sylvia teased.

The carrot stick in Betty’s hand broke in two and glared at Stephen. “At least I don’t smell like cheap liquor.”

Sylvia’s face reddened, and she tossed her basket to her brother. She placed her hands on her hips and pouted.

“Well at least we’re not a family of thieves.” She pointed a finger at John. “And he’s not even a real Christian.”

Betty wanted to pour some sense into the girl, and though she knew better her hand itched to throw the basket at Sylvia.

“And insulting and lying about your neighbor is a very Christian thing to do?” She stepped forward, but John held her back. “My husband is more Christian than you will ever be, Miss Sternham.”

Sylvia’s bug-eyes grew larger.

“The bible said nothing ‘bout Injuns. And it says plenty about thieves. People like him,” she threw a glance in John’s direction, “will never be accepted in this town.”

“Did you have the chickens for breakfast?” Stephen asked, folding his arms against his chest, squawking as he waved them up and down.

“I didn’t steal anything,” John said.

“Sure you didn’t.” Stephen looked around and raised his voice. “Old Reece woke up this morning and his chickens were gone. And what’d he found in his yard?” He paused, looking meaningfully at the passers-by who stopped to listen. “He found an arrow, that’s what. Looks like someone went a-hunting...”

Elijah, who ran the vegetable and fruit stand, dragged his wooden boxes away from John and Betty. She glared at him, and he gulped.

“I didn’t take the chickens,” John said. “And why would I be hunting chicken when I can just buy them?”

“Well why do you have to hunt boar when you can just buy a pig?” Stephen shook his head, and turned around to address an older man standing behind him. “I wouldn’t trust him around my house if I were you, Mr. Wicker.”

“That’s it!” Betty threw her basket at John as she grabbed Stephen by the shoulder. “Apologize to my husband! You have no right to say those things to him.”

Stephen shrugged off her hand. “I’m an upstanding Christian and I will say what needs to be said. I’m just concerned about my town.”

“Well, so am I,” Betty said.

Stephen sneered at her. “Wrong. This ain’t your town.”

Before she could do anything with her clenched fists, John stepped between them and said, “Stephen, however I’ve wronged you, please don’t take it out on my wife. I didn’t steal the chickens. I swear.”

“Like your word means anything.” Stephen spat at his feet.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone looked around, then instantly scurried to look busy when a tall and large man wearing a black smock walked up to John and Stephen.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” He placed thick hands on the two Stephen and Jon’s shoulders, his eyes dark and narrowed.

The stranger’s smile stretched wide on his face, but the hard lines and stubble on his face spoke of a far less gentle side.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” Stephen glared at the newcomer as he shook of the man’s hand.

“Oh, but I think it is, considering I’m your pastor.”

Everyone looked at the man with wide eyes. Someone coughed nearby and a few people in the back cleared their throats.

“Y-you’re the pastor?” Sylvia asked.

The man nodded, thick blonde hair bobbing. “I’m afraid I had been delayed, since I had to stop in Angel Creek to get some supplies for the chapel. Oh, but I did manage to find out one thing already,” he turned to Stephen, “Old Reece had found his chickens. Said he saw them wondering in Mr. Sternham’s garden.”