The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance)

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The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 12

by Cassidy Hanton


  Taking all that in, she was a bit timid facing him again, yet excited at the same time. She was curious to see if their easy banter was just an accident or if that was the way it was going to be between them always.

  Pull yourself together, Geraldine, she snapped at herself, seeing how her daydreaming was raging out of control. You are not some schoolgirl with a juvenile infatuation. You are a grown woman, so act as such. A small part of her wanted to stick her tongue out and pout; still, she calmed herself, banishing all previous thoughts as if she never thought of them in the first place.

  Just in case, she went upstairs to change only to remember she had to wash her hair as well. Despite herself, she smiled remembering why that was the case in the first place. If anyone else did that to her, she would be outraged and retaliate immediately, alas, here she was, smiling from ear to ear.

  Enough, Geraldine.

  Once she finished with her grooming, Geraldine hesitated for a moment outside her mother's room before entering. Geraldine needed to tell her they were expecting some company since she realized it would be far worse if she tried to keep this from her mother until she saw strangers on her doorstep. Well, one stranger and one priest. She realized that phrase could be the beginning of a very bad joke. “Mother?” Only silence greeted her in return, and she sighed. What am I to do with her?

  “Mother,” Geraldine refused to give up and tried again. “I have some news to share with you.”

  Her mother stirred ever so slightly, which informed Geraldine she was listening. She refused to speak though. So, Geraldine continued. “The Sheriff from Fort Mohave is coming this afternoon to speak with me about what happened-” Geraldine had to swallow a couple of times before she was able to continue. “About what happened with Elsa.”

  Her mother immediately rose and looked at Geraldine wide-eyed. “Why on Earth would he want to speak with you?” Her mother demanded. The swift change in her demeanor took Geraldine by surprise, so it took her a bit to answer.

  “Because I saw Elsa.”

  “Doesn't that mean he needs to speak with me first?” Her mother challenged. “I was the one that found her after all.”

  Well yes, only I didn't think you would be up for it, Geraldine thought to herself and did not dare repeat it out loud. “Yes, I—” Geraldine started, then paused, she did not know what to say to that.

  Her mother started to rise. “Help me change, my dear. It appears I overslept and am running a tad late.”

  “Of course.”

  “It was quite some time since we had proper guests.”

  “The sheriff isn't a guest, Mother, he is here on business.”

  “Never mind. We must look presentable.”

  “As you wish,” was all Geraldine could say as she sprung to action.

  After her mother got dressed she made an apple pie and some other treats as well. Geraldine hadn't seen her this animated in a long time. A part of her was glad, the other terrified not knowing what caused such swift change in the first place. Or what might reverse it back to the way she was.

  The two women did not have to wait long before Geraldine spotted their guests slowly riding toward the house. Maybe she should not call them as such since the sheriff was coming on official business.

  Here they are, she thought as her heart fluttered. Geraldine couldn’t lie, she was excited despite the dire circumstances that were making them meet again. She couldn’t anticipate his reaction to her. Will he be surprised? Annoyed? Maybe even cross? No, she didn’t think so. Their encounter was brief, surprisingly though, he teased her as much as she did him.

  Geraldine was at an advantage at the moment, since she knew all along who he was, and why he was here, and that gave her some time to prepare. She left the house so she could greet them at the front porch. The sun was still high up and both men had to squint looking at her.

  “Good day, Geraldine,” Father Mathew greeted her, and she greeted him back.

  The sheriff's mouth turned upward ever so slightly greeting her. “Hello again.”

  “Hello.”

  The two men dismounted as they approached her. Geraldine continued to speak to the Sheriff conversationally. “You see, I was right.”

  “About what?”

  “Eggs really do wonders on the skin. You look rejuvenated already.”

  “Why thank you. I smell divine as well.”

  Geraldine flinched ever so slightly. Maybe she was taking this too far. It wasn't fair to tease the man after spilling on him in the first place. Not that he minded, as it appeared.

  While they conversed, Father Mathew looked between them with a frown.

  “You two have already met?”

  “In a way,” Geraldine replied vaguely.

  “This is the attacker I was talking you about, Father,” Sheriff told on her. “Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to ask for her name, since the departure was abrupt as was the meeting.”

  “I see,” Father Mathew murmured, clearly not getting the joke.

  “Geraldine Laurel, pleased to meet you.”

  “Sheriff Robert Bradway.”

  Her mother chose that moment to join them. “Oh, I see you arrived. Welcome. Please, come in, come in,” she said in one breath, overly animated.

  This is going to be interesting.

  Chapter Twelve

  Yes, this is going to be interesting.

  Robert couldn't believe his luck. He had been thinking about this girl, and not just because his clothes were all sticky and smelly, throughout all day, despite trying really hard not to, and as it turned out, she was none other than Geraldine Laurel.

  That made him have mixed feelings. On one hand, she was his mystery girl who not only attacked him but managed to intrigue him in a matter of minutes. On the other... She is one of your witnesses and potential suspects, he reminded himself.

  The house the Laurels were living in was fairly modest. It was two-stories high, with a nice and wide porch that surrounded the entire house. Must be something special sitting there after a day of labor and watching the sun go down. At places the white paint on the facade started to chip, but it was still obvious the house was taken care off with a lot of care and love. This is what a true home looks like.

  Once they settled inside the living area, the couch squeaked under the men's combined weight, Robert decided not to waste time on pleasantries. Mrs. Laurel urged them to have something to eat or drink; however, he would prefer to simply stay on track and speak with them about Elsa Potter, fully knowing it would be easy for him to forget and continue his easy banter with Miss Geraldine.

  Focus. “I apologize for having to come here and disturb you,” Robert said in all seriousness, maybe even a bit too formal than he would usually speak. “Yet, I have a job to do, and I need your assistance.”

  “Of course, Sheriff, we are here to help in any way we can, so ask your questions,” Stephanie Laurel replied, with the smallest of sighs, an almost unnoticeable indicator of her distress. Geraldine simply nodded in agreement.

  Truth be told, he was quite surprised to find Mrs. Laurel so well and put together. From what Father said, or didn't say, Robert assumed something quite different; this was a pleasant surprise. It would make his job easier. The interview would certainly go farther and be more efficient if both women wanted to help and could speak with him freely. Overall, this start pleased him.

  Robert decided to start his questioning with Stephanie Laurel. As soon as she started speaking, her eyes filled with tears, and she had to stop speaking every so often to wipe her eyes or nose. So perhaps he was too hasty to judge her state of mind.

  On the other hand, her reaction was normal for someone who found a person they cared about deeply dead and in such manner. Robert encountered all kinds of people during his career as a sheriff, and some were more sensitive than others. That didn't mean they were necessarily good or bad, weak or strong, simply more sensitive, and that was quite all right.

  “Please try to calm
yourself,” Robert urged, using his soft voice since he did not want to add pressure on her. “And start from the beginning.”

  Mrs. Laurel nodded, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. “I went to visit Elsa, just like I do almost every day, to have some tea with her.”

  “When was that?” Robert interjected.

  “When? Well, yesterday of course.”

  Robert frowned, he didn't mean that, so he rephrased his question. “At what time did you decide to go to Miss Potter's?”

  She thought about that for a moment. “Oh, I don't know. Perhaps around noon.”

  Robert nodded. “Please, carry on.”

  “We usually sit on the front porch, and she wasn't there this time. I was usually the one that prepares the tea since she was always tired as of late. So, when she wasn't there waiting for me, I entered the house, and…and…” Mrs. Laurel paused as more tears filled her eyes.

  “And then what?” Robert softly urged. He needed to hear every available detail since she was the first one at the scene, so he couldn't just let this be the end of their conversation.

  “She was just there in front of me,” Mrs. Laurel started to really sob.

  “Dead?” Robert pressed.

  Stephanie Laurel covered her face with her hands while mumbling something to herself. In an instant, Robert noted her palms. They were pristine, without any signs of rope burn marks on them. So, she couldn't be the one fighting Elsa. Unless she wore gloves. Stephanie Potter was first on the scene, so it was only natural he suspected her. She could simply be the last one leaving. He concentrated really hard to understand what she was saying. She appeared be repeating just three words. “I had to... I had to...”

  That instantly put Robert on high alert. She had to do what? He wondered. “What do you mean by ‘had to,’ Mrs. Laurel?” Robert asked. She ignored him, continuing to cry and repeating the mantra softly, slowly rocking back and forth.

  “I am sorry, Sheriff, she gets like this sometimes,” Geraldine apologized while moving closer to soothe her mother.

  He moved closer as well. “You had to do what?” he insisted, ignoring the looks Geraldine sent his way.

  “Please, no more.” Geraldine pleaded.

  Robert knelt in front of Stephanie Laurel. “Please, Mrs. Laurel, speak to me. It is of grave importance you tell me everything. Be brave now,” he coaxed.

  Slowly, she removed her hands from her face. Her eyes were completely red and bloodshot, still, she looked straight at him without wavering. “I had to run away. I left her there,” she managed to choke out before bursting to tears again. After that, she was completely unresponsive.

  What did she mean by that? Was Elsa alive at the time? Robert had so many questions, alas, his sole eyewitness refused to say anything else. Even Father Mathew was trying to calm her down, yet all their efforts were in vain.“Mrs. Laurel, was Elsa alive when you saw her? Why did you run away? Was the killer still there?”

  “Mother came straight here to notify me about what happened,” Geraldine provided. “Aunt Elsa was already dead.”

  That makes sense. “Did your mother specifically tell you that?” Robert needed to make sure.

  “Yes.”

  After that short exchange, Geraldine refocused on her mother. She produced a small bottle from her skirt pocket. “Please, Mother, drink this.” Miraculously she did. “Bravo. Now, let us go to bed so you can rest for a while.”

  “I think I would like that,” Mrs. Laurel replied to her daughter, completely ignoring the two men as if they were not even there in the first place.

  Geraldine escorted her mother out of the room. “I will return shortly, gentlemen,” she said over her shoulder. Robert returned to his seat.

  It must be difficult for Geraldine to look after her mother day and night all alone, Robert thought to himself. However, there was not an ounce of pity inside of him toward her. That was a child's duty for sure, to take care of the sick parents just as the parents took care of the child. Geraldine did not see as simply a duty for her or even a burden, which impressed Robert. She was an extraordinary young woman as far as he could tell. Despite having such poor balance.

  Of course, he spent far too little time with her to make such conclusions about her character. Something inside of him was telling him he was right and was looking forward to learning more.

  “That poor woman,” Father Mathew murmured next to him, at some point. Robert agreed.

  The same could be said about Elsa Potter, of course. Two women, best friends that clearly lived their lives together shared misery as well. Each was plagued by something, yet they were still bonded for life, which was a rare gift to find someone, a true friend you could share everything with.

  How does one cope when the bond is broken? Robert mused. Looking at Stephanie Laurel, he felt sorry for her and for having to go through this, nearly as much as he felt pity for Elsa Potter.

  “When did she become like this?” Robert asked Father Mathew. He wanted to know what caused a woman, and a mother, to reach that delicate breaking point and get lost without finding a way back.

  “Ever since my father disappeared ten years ago,” Geraldine was the one that answered him, returning to the living room.

  Only then did he notice how worn down, tired, worried she actually looked, and that deeply disturbed him. Still, he forced himself to remain professional. Her words intrigued him. “Disappeared?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in vanish into thin air?” He wasn't intentionally trying to be crude; he simply wanted to get more details out of her.

  “Yes,” she replied shortly which annoyed him. He wanted to know more. Robert tried to remember that period of his life. He wasn't acting as the sheriff back then; he was already working at the station as one of the deputies, though and he could not remember running into a case like this.

  “What did Sheriff Dawson say?” He asked, presuming his late boss was the person in charge.

  Geraldine sighed. “He said my father probably ran away with another woman.”

  “And did he?”

  “Sheriff, please,” Father Mathew interjected, clearly unhappy about this line of conversation. Both Robert and Geraldine ignored him.

  Geraldine shrugged. “That I cannot tell, Sheriff.”

  “Do you believe your father was capable of doing that?”

  That made her pause. “If you had asked me ten years ago, I would have said no, now...”

  “Peter Laurel was a fine man, Sheriff,” Father Mathew provided. “God-fearing and hard-working.”

  “Yet he borrowed a substantial amount of money from the Johnsons and shortly after he was never to be seen again,” Geraldine snapped back. Clearly, this was still a rather sore subject for her, and Robert decided not to ask anything further, even though he wanted to.

  No wonder Miss Geraldine's mother had weak nerves after such an incident. It must be hard living with the notion your husband and the father of your child abandoned you. It must have been hard on Geraldine as well.

  A rather pregnant silence fell over them; luckily Geraldine was the one who broke it. “Did you want to hear my reckoning of the events regarding Aunt Elsa?”

  “Yes, of course, thank you.”

  Geraldine took a deep breath and started to speak. “I just returned from the town. As you had the opportunity to see for yourself,” the lines around her mouth rose ever so slightly in a fleeting smile, “I sell eggs and some fruits and vegetables at the market.”

  “Hopefully with a slightly better service,” he heard himself say. She gave him a look but did not take the bait, and simply continued with her narrative. “I started looking for Mother...”

  With each passing moment, and with each sentence, Robert was getting even more impressed by her. Miss Geraldine's behavior was utterly worthy of praise. While she told her story, she remained calm and concise. She was completely different from her mother. It was obvious this whole incident pained her deeply, still, she remained almost r
egal, wiping a few traitorous tears without any fuss.

  “Thank you, Miss Geraldine, that was quite helpful,” Robert said after she went silent, reaching the end of her story with her looking for Father Mathew in Oatman.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Sheriff?”

  “Not right now,” he replied evenly, though he was quite reluctant to leave for some reason. You know the reason, he just chose to ignore it. They all rose. It was time to depart and move on with his search for Elsa's killer.

 

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