Lindsey Hewes
Subtlety isn’t worth a hill of beans if you aren’t willing to hit someone over the head with it. Andrew Bennett was plum tired of subtlety. Look where it had gotten him, racing down the dirt road towards the small town of Franklin, Tennessee, on a horse too old to get from A to B in less time than Noah took to build the ark. However, it might just be his viewpoint now that his patience had gone from long and sturdy to snapped in a matter of a handful of words: “Jessica is leaving to be a mail-order bride.”
If he didn’t rue the day he listened to the old peddler who sold him the book, Slow & Steady Wins the Bride. Well, he had been slow and steady for nigh on two years now tryin’ to win his neighbor’s heart, and now she was headed off to marry another man.
Not today! Today he was going to be as blunt as blunt could be. The woman he loved was about to get a rude awakening. Subtlety was gone.
There was no chance on God’s green earth that he was going to let Jessica go without knowing exactly how he felt. His lips would be on hers by the end of the day if that’s what it took to break into that stubborn little head of hers and convince her that they were oil and water, salt and pepper, and all good things that didn’t go together but did.
“No, no, no!” He spurred his mount under him as he yelled. The stage was pulling out. By the time it reached the edge of town, it would be running at full speed away from him. “Hiya.”
The town closed in quickly behind them as Andrew finally neared the stagecoach enough to shout at the driver. “Halt!”
“Stage don’t stop for nobody!” The driver called over his shoulder as the shotgun driver pointed a lazy shotgun toward him, but Andrew was unarmed—visibly not a threat, or at least to anyone who wasn’t Jessica.
“Andrew?”
There she was. That sweet voice of stubborn reason that challenged him to be a better man, laugh more . . . and today, she was challenging his patience.
“Jessica, I need to speak with you. It’s urgent!”
“Stage ain’t stopping for no one.” The driver hollered again.
Andrew rolled his eyes as he waved the man’s words aside. They were racing down a dirt road. He was fighting stage wheels throwing dust in his face, a shotgun, and a cantankerous woman who couldn’t see a good thing when he was staring her in the face.
“I know.” He barked, but he was plum worn out over the whole thing, and his temper was wearing thin.
“What are you doing?” Jessica called out to him again from the window. She took his breath away even with a mutt holding a shotgun behind her.
“I’m stopping you.” It was time to reveal his hand and start his assault on subtlety.
“Why?” She glanced down the road behind them like there was some other reason he would be stopping her.
“You can’t marry him.”
“Why not?”
This is where he faltered because there was no way he could leap onto a moving stage and keep his horse moving at the right speed. And the driver wasn’t going to slow down either. One of them needed to move to the other.
Andrew inhaled sharply. He’d promised that subtlety would be hanged today and that started now.
“I can’t let you marry him without knowing how I feel. I love you, Jess!” He was yelling over the thundering hooves and clattering stage, and his voice would be raw pretty soon. But he had gained the attention of every single soul aboard that stagecoach. “I have loved you for years, but you’re too stubborn to know when a good man’s trying to court you!”
Jessica’s head whipped back as if she’d been struck, and her brown eyes sparkled with that stubborn glint he loved. She started standing before shoving open the door, and if it wasn’t the prettiest sight he had ever seen. His heart thundered right along with the hooves underneath him.
“Why, you? You haven’t courted me one bit. You’ve been parading Missy Pritchard around town.”
“Yeah, because you got all sorts of worried about her being lonely. You were the one to tell me to sit with her at the picnic. And you were the one who told me to invite her to sit in the family pew ’cause she ain’t got nobody to sit with. Why would I ever want to parade her around town when I could have you? Did you think of that, Jess?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it? I love you, and I wanna marry you. If you don’t get off that stage your groom will be waiting for you at the next stop. You want me or him?” He’d sealed his fate, and he probably didn’t have a lick of sense for tossing aside that book and doing things his way, but it was time to grab life by the horns.
The next thing he knew, Jessica was out the door. He yanked his horse as close as he could before a flurry of skirts, petticoats, limbs, and lips flew at him. And he caught them all.
A cheer went up from the stagecoach, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He was too busy holding on to Jess by her lips, pouring every minute of worried fury that had hauled him down this desolate road after her into his kiss.
“I love you.” Those were about the sweetest words he’d ever heard.
“It’s about time you said that.”
“What took you so long?”
“Ah, this stupid book said slow and steady would win your hand.”
“A good thing I pretended I was getting hitched.”
“Wait, wha—”
Jess cut him off with a mind-rattling kiss.
She has a master’s degree in occupational therapy but prefers her title of mom to her two boys to any other. After nearly 20 years of hobby writing, she is looking forward to adding the official title of published author. Lindsey loves cooking from scratch, baking sourdough, gardening, and making people laugh whether that’s in a story or in a group setting. There is nothing quite like reading a book and eating sourdough bread while looking out over the hydrangeas.
Connect with Lindsey on Facebook, Instagram, or her website.
Spark Flash Fiction 