Justice for Elsie

by Amelia Smarts

  “What so funny?” she asked, noticing his amusement. “I don’t like hurting people’s feelings.”

  Wyatt laughed out loud then. “Elsie, he’s known you two days. It’s a mite conceited of you to think he’s going to be heartbroken, don’t you reckon?”

  “I don’t think so. How long was it before you were smitten with me?”

  Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. “Heh. You make a fair point. But you and me, we’re different.”

  She smiled. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She cuddled up closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love this dress of yours?” He surveyed her from head to toe, his gaze conveying affection and admiration.

  “I don’t mind hearing it again,” Elsie said, giggling.

  He gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “Remember, meet me outside the marshal’s office when you’re done at the restaurant. Our conversation with the marshal will be even more important than the one you’re going to have with Latham.”

  Elsie’s carefree feeling dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. She wrung her hands in her lap and looked over at Wyatt’s ruddy face. His jaw was set in determination, and the scar tracking his cheek gave him such an intimidating appearance that, if she didn’t know he loved her, she would be afraid of him in that moment.

  “You don’t look nervous at all,” she told him. “Only confident.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, but I’ll admit to you I’m nervous. I must make sure the marshal’s suspicions are put to bed, and it partly depends on me appearing confident.”

  “Thank you, Wyatt,” she said softly. “This whole business of stealing from Xavier… It was selfish. I can’t bear the thought of you or anyone else being in trouble for it.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll see to it we all come out kickin’. Don’t you worry, Elsie girl.” He stopped the buggy outside of Mary’s Restaurant, then hopped down and rounded it so that he could help her down the buggy’s steps. “Good luck with Mr. Latham. Don’t be too long.”

  Once she’d reached the ground, Elsie fluffed her skirts. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

  They gazed into each other’s eyes, each clearly wanting to kiss the other, but they wouldn’t be able to show any kind of affection toward each other in public until later. Wyatt tipped his hat and climbed up to his seat. Giving her one final encouraging nod, he slapped the reins on the horse and drove away.

  Elsie watched him go, her heart filling with love and gratitude. Her pa would have loved Wyatt, and she wished more than anything that the two of them could have met. But life never went exactly right, and Elsie would never have ended up with Wyatt if Mark Xavier hadn’t been ruthless and if her pa hadn’t died. Those events were the reason she’d become a criminal and the reason Wyatt had shown up in the first place.

  Elsie drew a deep breath and walked into the restaurant, jangling the bells on the door when she did. Immediately, she spotted Mr. Latham sitting at a table with the waitress Florence Clark perched on a chair opposite him.

  Elsie frowned, curious about the spectacle before her. Both of them wore grins, and Mr. Latham responded to something Florence said with a mirthful chortle. Elsie approached them slowly, feeling like she was interrupting something. When Florence saw her, she immediately rose from her chair and stepped aside.

  “Hello, Miss Fin,” she said. “Sorry about taking your chair for a minute there. I’ll be right back with some coffee for you.” She scurried away as Mr. Latham stood to greet Elsie.

  A sheepish look was on his face, but he recovered quickly enough. They both sat, and he placed the cloth napkin over his lap. “Miss Clark is from Rochester, same place I’m from,” he explained. “Turns out we know some of the same folks. Small world, isn’t it?”

  Elsie nodded. The pit of dread was forming in her stomach, and she knew she’d better just come out with the truth rather than engaging in small talk, which would only allow the anxiety to build. She cleared her throat. “I must tell you something, Mr. Latham, and before I do, please know how very sorry I am.”

  He studied her with a concerned expression. “Is everything all right, Miss Fin?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid I must break off our engagement. I developed romantic feelings for someone during the time it took for you to get here from New York, and it wouldn’t be right for me to marry you.”

  Mr. Latham leaned back in his chair. “Goodness, I didn’t expect that.”

  “I’m dreadfully sorry, and I know it’s terribly unfair to you.”

  Mr. Latham raked his fingers through his hair and stared into the distance for some time, while Elsie shifted in her seat and waited for a response from him. She thought he might be angry and lash out at her, but judging by the look on his face, he was mostly surprised.

  Finally, he returned his attention to her with an understanding smile. “Well, sometimes these things can’t be helped.”

  “Please allow me to pay for your hotel room for at least a week,” Elsie offered. “I hate to think that you are in any way financially damaged by this.”

  Mr. Latham shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Fin, but that’s very gracious of you. I was planning on moving to Virginia City anyway, even without the mail-order groom request that seemed to fall in my lap with perfect timing. I wish you the very best, my dear.”

  A huge sigh of relief escaped her. “And you as well, Mr. Latham,” she said, standing to her feet. He reached out, took her hand in his, and brushed her knuckles with a kiss.

  Elsie walked to the door and then glanced back to wave at him, but he was already engaged in conversation with the waitress. She smiled. Maybe things would work out better for all of them this way. Feeling lighter than when she’d come in, she exited the restaurant and headed for the marshal’s office.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wyatt leaned against the outside wall of the saloon, which stood opposite of the marshal’s office, and smoked his pipe as he waited for Elsie. He could hardly believe how much his life had changed since a month ago when he’d ridden into town with an injured arm and without a job or a girl. Now, because of Elsie, his arm was healed, he had a job, and if all turned out well in the discussion they were about to have with the marshal, he would soon be a married man.

  It felt like hours before he spotted Elsie walking toward him. He was impatient to get the discussion with the marshal over with, and he knew that Elsie felt the same way. She reached out and discreetly squeezed his arm, communicating both gratefulness and encouragement for what was about to happen.

  “How was your discussion with Mr. Latham?” Wyatt asked, as they walked across the dusty road.

  “He was understanding. Truth be told, I think he might be sweet on the waitress.”

  “Good. Now we have just one more little problem that needs solving, and then we’ll be able to breathe easy.”

  They walked into the jailhouse, their appearance causing the marshal’s eyebrows to head for the ceiling. He stood up. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice guarded. “Why are you two here together?”

  “I’m here to make my last report, Marshal,” Wyatt said, fishing out his badge from his pocket and setting it on the desk. “I found out that the business at the Infinity Ranch is legal. Not a whiff of theft anywhere.”

  Elsie nodded. “He’s right, Marshal, and I’ll do whatever needs doing to prove I haven’t been stealing the Xaviers’ cattle.”

  The marshal glared at Wyatt. “She wasn’t supposed to know why you were there. You’re supposed to be undercover!”

  Wyatt held out his hand to silence him. “I was undercover, Marshal. Ask Miss Fin. I only just yesterday revealed to her my true motives for being there.”

  “But why did you tell her?” the marshal bellowed. “I never should have trusted you! Sit down, both of you.” He waved a hand at the two chairs opposite his desk.

  Wyatt sat. “I know you think I
’m a good-for-nothin’ saddle slicker without a lick of sense, but I did my job. I asked lots of questions of the ranch hands and even promised them a reward if they reported anything illegal happening at the ranch.”

  “And, let me guess, they didn’t say a word about the cattle they’ve been stealing,” the marshal sneered.

  “There was nothing for them to say,” Elsie cut in. “We’ve never stolen anything. It might appear that way since my ranch started being profitable on account of the judge’s order to tear down the Xaviers’ dam.”

  Wyatt leaned forward. “I searched every inch of that ranch. It’s all on the up-and-up.”

  The marshal didn’t look the least bit convinced, but a look of resignation came over his features. He focused his attention on Elsie. “Let’s pretend for a minute that you have been rustling cattle.”

  Elsie swallowed and glanced at Wyatt.

  The marshal picked up a pencil and wrote out the Xaviers’ X and the infinity symbol in large strokes. He held it up so that they could see. “Let’s pretend you rebranded your cattle with an infinity symbol over an X.”

  “What’s the use of pretending something like that?” Wyatt asked.

  “Shut up, Parker,” the marshal growled, keeping his attention on Elsie. Wyatt wished he could reach out and take her hand and to whisper in her ear to remain strong, but he was helpless to do anything in that moment. He could only hope that Elsie would remember all they’d spoken about and keep her wits about her.

  “All right, Marshal. I’ll pretend to be a thief for a minute if that’s what you want,” she said, her face drained of color but her voice remarkably steady.

  “Right. So assuming for a minute you’ve been stealing cattle… From this point forward, will you be continuing to steal?”

  Elsie shook her head. “No, you have my word.”

  “And will you agree to change your brand to something else? It can’t be anything with an X in it.”

  “Yes, I can do that,” Elsie said eagerly. She wanted to rejoice. The marshal was suggesting a solution that she and Wyatt had already agreed on.

  “Good!” He pounded his fist on the table and glared at Elsie. “You know who was in here right before you two walked in?”

  She shook her head, and her heartbeat quickened at the look of sheer fury on the marshal’s face.

  “Mark Xavier and his three boys, looking as mean and riled up as a swarm of hornets. First, they threatened to kill you if I didn’t arrest you. Then, when I made it clear I would see to it they each hung from the highest tree if they laid a finger on you, they resorted to bribery.”

  The marshal rose to his feet and paced behind his desk. “I may not be the best marshal in the state, but I’m not a goddam criminal!” he bellowed. “There will be order in this town, you hear me, Miss Fin? Order and honest business dealings!”

  Elsie nodded. “Yes, sir.” She bit back her bitter thoughts. It was too bad it had taken the marshal so long to see the Xaviers’ true colors. Her pa was dead, and the marshal had as good as helped the Xaviers push him into his grave. Nothing the marshal said or did now would change Elsie’s mind about him.

  “Fine. We’ll consider this matter closed. Now get the hell out of here, both of you,” the marshal growled.

  He didn’t have to ask them twice. Elsie and Wyatt both stood quickly and rushed outside before the marshal changed his mind. On the buggy ride back, they were silent for the first half of the journey.

  “It’s done,” Wyatt said finally, a grim expression on his face.

  “I can’t believe I got off so easy,” Elsie said. “Why didn’t he interrogate me?”

  Wyatt reached over and squeezed her knee. “My guess is he feels beholden to you since he never protected you from the Xaviers when they were destroying your ranch. Maybe this is his way of making amends.”

  “Seems so,” Elsie agreed.

  “It gets me angry, hearing that the Xaviers threatened violence against you. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to you.”

  She laid her hand over his. “Nothing will happen to me. I’m going to be good and honest from now on. And I’ve got you now to help with that.”

  He smiled. “That you do. Still, I’ll be having a word with the Xaviers to make sure they stay away from you.”

  “Thank you, Wyatt.” She looked up to the heavens. “Thank you, God, for sending Wyatt to me. And thank you, Pa. I know you’re watching out for me still.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Wyatt leaned over and kissed it off her face. “God is on your side, darlin’. So am I, and I swear to always protect you from the law, the Xaviers, and anyone else who might give you trouble.”

  Elsie wrapped her hands around his neck and beamed at him. “I love you, Wyatt Parker. Hurry home so I can show you how much.”

  Epilogue

  Randall and the two hands at the Infinity Ranch never spoke a word of the rebranding operation that had taken place during Elsie’s period of grief. No one lost sleep over the thefts, except for Mark Xavier, who often lay awake at night gnashing his teeth over what he knew to be true, but could not prove. His consternation was a form of justice, meted out by Elsie and the worst undercover deputy Virginia City ever saw, who also turned out to be one of the town’s finest ranchers. Wyatt and Elsie’s business prospered and grew. Still existing to this day, the Infinity Ranch shows all signs of living up to its name.

  The End

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Justice for Elsie, book three in the Mail-Order Grooms series. Please consider leaving a review. Reviews help attract readers who enjoy spanking cowboys and ward off those who are scandalized by such a thing! Your review doesn’t have to be long. Some of the best reviews are only a sentence or two! https://amzn.to/2wEkRm2

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  Ready for another sexy romp in the old west? Check out When He Returns (sneak peek included on the next page).

  Amelia Smarts

  Sneak Peek

  When He Returns

  A Coming-of-Age Western Romance

  Chapter One

  Texas, 1891

  Wade Hunter watched two boys skip past him. They were plump and rosy around the face, and every perky step projected energy. He could hear them giggling at nothing in particular as far as he could tell—just for the joy of living, it seemed. Leading the two boys was their ma, presumably, whose long skirts and genteel walk gave her the appearance of gliding as she crossed the street toward a buggy next to the mercantile.

  When the trio reached their destination, the cowboy next to it swung the kids up one by one, then held his hand out to assist the woman up the steps. Once the man’s family was situated, he covered his newly bought goods in the back of the buggy with burlap and secured it with twine for the journey.

  Wade’s stomach growled, and he felt nauseated. He was a boy not much older than those who’d just walked past him, but he felt decades older. Unlike them, no parent would see to his supper that evening. In fact, he hadn’t put a morsel of food in his mouth in nearly two days—not since he’d last stolen from the mercantile.

  Standing on unsteady legs, he abandoned his seat by the horse trough and followed the children’s path into the dusty street with his saddlebag slung over his shoulder. He covered his nose and mouth with his bandana to mask his appearance as much as possible and coughed a few times from the dirt caught in the unwashed cloth. As the family squeaked away in their buggy, he arrived at the door and leaned flat against the wall next to it.

  Wade could hear Mr. Campbell shuffling goods around for some time before all noise ceased. He peeked inside and, upon finding no one in the main room, took action. He rushed in and spotted what he was looking for—sliced bread on the countertop, a free gift for Mr. C
ampbell’s paying customers.

  The scent of fresh-baked bread filled his senses. After he grabbed the entire loaf and stuffed it into his saddlebag, he couldn’t resist pulling down the bandana to shove one piece into his mouth. It was at that moment Mr. Campbell entered from the back room and saw him. Fear gripped Wade, and he turned to run, stumbling over a board on the floor that was raised half an inch over the others. He fell against the door, opening it, and scurried down the steps, gripping his saddlebag over his shoulder.

  It was as though he was in one of his recurring nightmares. His feet wouldn’t run fast enough, and his weakened, hungered state meant that even the rush of fear couldn’t provide him with enough strength to escape. Mr. Campbell was upon him in an instant, grabbing him by his collar at the nape of his neck and bringing him to a sudden stop. Desperately, Wade swung his fist, connecting it with the man’s side, but it had no effect on the man’s grip. Wade’s saddlebag was being pulled from his other hand.

  “Let it go!” he snarled. The contents of the bag contained all of Wade’s earthly belongings. They weren’t much—a few matchbooks, a duster, and a knife—but he would fight hard for them.

  However, he was in no state to prevent the bag’s removal from his person, since he could hardly remain on his feet. His head felt light. His body sagged, and he remained in an upright position only due to the man’s firm hold on the collar of his shirt. Dimly aware that he was being dragged in the direction of the marshal’s office, he accessed a burst of energy and twisted violently away from his captor. When Mr. Campbell grabbed his shirtsleeve, Wade saw his chance. Like a rabid dog, he sank his teeth into the man’s arm and held on for dear life, tasting copper as curses swirled around his head like the dust.

  Wade steeled himself in anticipation of the blows that would follow, but despite his teeth being buried in Mr. Campbell’s arm, the man did not strike him—nor did he let him go. He continued on toward the jailhouse, dragged Wade up the front steps, and shoved him through the door, where Wade lost his teeth’s hold and stumbled backward, falling to the floor. Wade breathed hard as he glared up at the man’s bewildered face. The shopkeeper eyed his arm and visibly cringed before looking at the marshal, who had risen from the chair behind his desk and was approaching them.