Rescuing the Lawman
Book 15
Christmas Rescue Series
Cheryl Wright
Copyright
Rescuing the Lawman
(Christmas Rescue Series – Book Fifteen)
Copyright ©2020 by Cheryl Wright
Cover Artist: Black Widow Books
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Thanks
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Bethany’s Christmas Pudding Recipe
Brandy Cream
From the Author
About the Author
Thanks
Thanks to my very dear friend Margaret Tanner for her enduring encouragement and friendship.
To Alan, my husband of over 45 years, who has been a relentless supporter of my writing for many years, thank you.
Thanks also to the ladies in my Facebook Reader Group for your never-ending help with characters names, titles, and relentless support. I love you all!
And last, but by no means least, thank you to all my wonderful readers who encourage me to continue writing these stories. It is such a joy to me knowing so many of you enjoy reading my stories. I love writing them as much as you love reading them.
Chapter One
Somewhere outside Alsburgh, Montana – 1880
Bethany Lancaster stayed right where she was – on the floor of the stage coach. The fact it lay on its side meant nothing to her, she intended to remain quiet and calm until help arrived.
When the shouting began, she knew they were in trouble. When the bullets began flying about… it was then she dropped to the floor. Unfortunately the only other passenger, a rather rotund man who was visiting his grandchildren, wasn’t quick enough. His lifeless body lay across her, concealing the fact she was still alive. It probably saved her. His heavy weight also pinned her down to the point she couldn’t move.
He was a friendly man, and had chatted about the grandchildren he had never met and his daughter he hadn’t seen for over five years. He had noted it would probably be his last visit, so he’d intended to make the most of it. Little did he know.
A tear trickled down Bethany’s face at the thought of it all.
They were going about their business, bothering no one. And now three people were dead. At least she believed they were. Her assumption the driver and guard were dead was likely correct since no one had come to check on her. She estimated she’d been there for some two hours now but she really didn’t know. It could have been far longer.
Her senses heightened due to her dire situation, Bethany heard the sound of horses before they were even close. If the robbers had come back to retrieve what they couldn’t carry earlier, she was doomed. Her heartbeat kicked up, and sweat poured down her face. She said a silent prayer to be spared. If she wasn’t to be saved, then she wanted a quick death.
As the sound moved closer, panic hit and blackness overtook her.
“What a blasted mess!” The voice was distinctly male, and seemed rather unimpressed. “You two stand guard. The last thing we need is to be attacked. Keep alert everyone.”
“Driver’s dead,” a different voice said. “So is the guard. Looks like they didn’t stand a chance.”
Bethany’s breathing quickened but she couldn’t find her voice. These men didn’t seem to be the robbers, and may even be her saviors. So far no one had looked inside the toppled stagecoach where she lay with dear old Mr Carpenter’s body across hers.
Without warning, the door to the coach flew open and a shadow lay across her. “Dear Lord, it’s a massacre in here.” The first voice stood close by, and Bethany dearly wanted to shout to him, to tell him she was alive. But whether from shock or something else, she couldn’t utter a word.
“Pete.” The shadow moved away and she found herself sobbing. Was she going to be left here to die under the weight of Mr Carpenter? She was beginning to go numb from the weight of him. If she could only move, even slightly…
From having a dead weight on her, she suddenly felt free, and Bethany knew she was dead. That sort of weight was enough to suffocate a person, and apparently, that’s exactly what happened. At least her prayers were answered and her demise was relatively quick at the end.
“This one’s still breathing! Someone help me get her out!” The shadow was there again. She strained to open her eyes, but it was so difficult. It took all her strength, all her energy, and she simply couldn’t manage it.
Bethany felt as though she was floating on air, and resolved herself to going to her heavenly home. The Lord had beckoned and she had no choice but to answer his call.
“Miss! Miss!” She felt her cheeks being slapped, and not gently. She tried again to open her eyes, but couldn’t manage it. Suddenly she was drenched with cold water and her eyes flew open.
“What the devil?” She opened her eyes wide and sat up. “How dare you?” She stared into the face of the evil creature who had doused her with water.
He grinned down at her. “Nice to see you, Ma’am. For a minute there, we thought you were dead too.”
He reached out and shook her hand. “Hunter Bancroft, Ma’am. Marshal Hunter Bancroft. Welcome to Alsburgh.”
“Bethany Lancaster,” she said quietly, not feeling at all welcome.
Before she knew what was happening, Bethany was sharing a horse with the irritating marshal who had saved her life.
~*~
“What’s the verdict, doc?” Marshal Bancroft asked.
Bethany sat on the side of the bed in the doctor’s clinic. He’d given her a good checking over, and a clean bill of health. She had scratches here and there, and some cracked ribs from the weight of poor Mr Carpenter, but Doc Shilling said she was virtually unscathed considering the situation.
“I’m fine,” she said, scampering off the bed and onto the floor. When she lost her balance, the fearless marshal came to her rescue. Again.
He held her by the shoulders to steady her and stared down into her face. “You sure don’t look fine,” he said, giving her the once over. “Apart from anything else, you’re white as a ghost.”
Bethany followed his gaze. He was right – she was a mess. Apart from the fact her clothes were torn and ruffled, she was covered in blood. No doubt from Joseph Carpenter. He was such a lovely man, decent and caring, and he didn’t deserve to be killed. Perhaps worst of all, he didn’t get to meet his grandchildren, and they would never know what a wonderful man he was.
Her eyes filled with tears and her head swam. The marshal’s grip on her tightened as though he knew what was about to happen. “Miss Lancaster?” His voice came as though from an echo chamber and despite trying to stop the inevitable, she fainted.
She felt the support underneath her as she was gently laid back onto the doctor’s table. “I thought you said she was fine, doc?” Bethany heard the irritation in the marshal’s voice and tried to sit up in her stupor. He held her in place. “Stay right where you are,” he told her, annoyance clearly in his voice.
From somewhere on the other side of the room the doctor spoke. “It will be shock,” he said, then com
ing out of nowhere, waved smelling salts under her nose. Bethany was abruptly and suddenly wide awake. Her eyes flew open and she stared up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed them before, but a lot had happened over the past few hours. Eye color was not something she often took notice of, especially when it came to strange men.
Not that she thought the marshal was strange. Oh no, that’s not what she meant. What she meant was…she wasn’t sure what she had even been thinking. Her head was still fuzzy and she was still a little light-headed, even after those wretched smelling salts.
He stared at her.
Marshal Hunter Bancroft stood there staring down at her. His face was blank, totally blank, as though she meant absolutely nothing to him. How could a man drag a person trapped underneath a dead body and not feel something for them? Apparently it was possible, because the marshal looked at her like she imagined he’d look at a loaf of moldy bread.
“We found your belongings,” he suddenly said as though that was foremost on her mind. She nearly died while being attacked by outlaws, and he was concerned about her belonging? Heck, she wasn’t worried about her belongings!
“Thank you,” she said quietly. What else could she say? I really don’t care? Here he was, believing himself to be kind and helpful when she couldn’t possibly care any less about material things right now. She was alive and in one piece and that was all that mattered to Bethany at that very moment.
“At least we found what appears to be your belongings. We collected your reticule from the stagecoach too; it’s in the Marshal’s Office with the rest of your things.” He indicated with his thumb and Bethany assumed it was down the street somewhere. She tried to sit up, but he held her there. “I’ll bring them to wherever you are staying.” He glanced across at the doc who didn’t look too sure about her going anywhere.
“I, I have no where to stay,” she said meekly, not sure what she should do. “I came out this way looking for work. I had no specific plans.”
The doc frowned and the marshal scowled. “You came all the way out here with no plans of any sort? What sort of fool woman are you?” Marshal Bancroft bellowed.
Bethany cowered. Briefly. Then she sat up and stared him down. “The sort of woman who is homeless and penniless after her father died and everything was left to her selfish and useless brother. That sort.” She climbed down off the bed and scurried out the door, leaving the marshal staring after her.
~*~
Hunter stared after the woman he’d rescued from the overturned stagecoach. “Ungrateful…” he began, then took a deep breath.
He twisted suddenly as the doc spoke. “She’s in shock, Marshal. Give her time.”
Hunter pushed back on his hat and scratched his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand women,” he said under his breath.
“Maybe if you courted one and married her you might,” the doc said, grinning at him. “Then again, perhaps not. Fifty years I’ve been married to my Martha, and I still can’t work her out.” He chuckled as he straightened the bed, and began to tidy the consultation room.
Hunter stared out the door, trying to see where the young woman had gone, but he couldn’t locate her. “Thanks Doc,” he said, waving over his shoulder as he left the clinic.
He glanced about the main street of town, but couldn’t spot her anywhere. Where did the darned fool woman go? Alsburgh was no place for a single woman to wander about alone. It wasn’t a bad town compared to others around here, but they did have a few thugs that had to be pulled in line from time to time. And despite the good time girls at the saloon, he still had to save some of the more innocent women from being harassed by those louts.
He straightened his shoulders and cracked his neck. It had already been a difficult day. Retrieving bodies was never an easy task, especially when you knew some of the victims. Elmer Chadwick had been driving the stagecoach from here to Ellensburg for as long as Hunter could remember. He had planned to retire in another six months.
Sure he was rough around the edges, but he was a nice fellow. Do anything for anyone, and he sure didn’t deserve to die. It had been more than a year since they’d had a stagecoach robbery. Likely because nothing of value was ever transported to these parts. That made him pause. Did someone transport something valuable, gold perhaps, that he was unaware of? He frowned. He did not like being kept in the dark.
Three people had lost their lives because of this robbery. It could have been four, but for the grace of God. Bethany Lancaster was lucky to be alive.
That thought brought him back to the task at hand; finding the frustrating Miss Lancaster.
He strode to the mercantile and stuck his head inside. She wasn’t there. He went to the hotel, but they’d had no strangers book in, so he checked with a few other businesses but she was nowhere to be found. Then he realized she had no money as her reticule was in the Marshal’s Office. The more he thought about it, the more likely it was he would find her there.
Standing outside his office, Hunter pulled off his hat and stared through the glass panel. She was nowhere to be seen. His deputy sat at his desk, and on noticing the marshal, indicated the jail cells. He quietly opened the door to see the sassy Miss Lancaster laid out, sound asleep on one of the beds in an empty cell.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” he said under his breath.
The deputy grinned at him. “I didn’t have the heart to send her away,” he said. “She told me she had nowhere to stay.”
“What the heck am I supposed to do with her?” He let out a slow breath.
Deputy Martin stood. “What about Nancy’s? At least for a day or two,” he added.
Hunter rubbed his roughened chin. “That might not be such a bad idea.” He pulled her disheveled belongings out from a corner cupboard and began putting them back into her case. He held up some unmentionables and grinned.
“How dare you?” Bethany Lancaster shouted. He quickly put them behind his back.
She swiftly went from sitting on the side of the bed to standing beside him. “Give it to me,” she demanded, and Hunter could see the anger written all over her face. He slowly brought his arm around to the front, but held his arm out so she couldn’t reach. He wasn’t sure what it was about this woman, but he sure got a kick out of riling her.
“Give me the wretched thing,” she demanded, then quickly put her hands to her mouth.
Hunter stared down at her. She was a feisty little thing, and darned if he didn’t like it.
Chapter Two
Thanks to the marshal, Bethany was settled into Alsburgh’s only boarding house. Nancy Richter had owned it for over ten years, she’d said, and so far she’d had no trouble. Bethany took that as a warning. Marshal Bancroft told Nancy her story, and the woman was very caring. She even arranged a hot bath. Something Bethany had no intentions of refusing. Apart from being covered in a dead man’s blood, she was aching all over. While she bathed, Miss Richter made her a hot cup of tea.
The towels were a little thin, but right now anything was appreciated. Tomorrow she would start looking for a job. Would a town of this size even have anything available? She would do just about anything at this point. Not that she was totally devoid of cash; she still had a handful of dollars, and that should get her through for a week or two. It was pure luck the robbers didn’t get her money. If she and her reticule hadn’t been stuck beneath Mr Carpenter, she was certain they would have taken it.
There was a tap to the door. “Are you nearly ready, Miss Lancaster?” a quiet voice asked. “I have your tea ready.”
It wasn’t a demand, and Bethany appreciated that. She’d dealt with demanding people most of her life, and it was time for that to change. “I’ll be right out,” she called back. She’d been in that bath for so long she was beginning to look like a wrinkled prune.
She hadn’t brought many clothes with her anyway, but most of what she did bring had been ruined when the coach overturned. The stage coach robbers undoubtedly
rode over her belongings, totally uncaring whether they were damaged.
Bethany stepped out of the tub and pulled a towel around herself. She felt so much better. And cleaner. She quickly dried her hair, then dressed. Feeling more human now, she headed for the kitchen.
Nancy Richter glanced up. “Oh, you look far better now. Not so disheveled and grubby. Did you enjoy your bath?” She smiled at Bethany, knowing full well she did.
“It was the best thing ever. After several days on trains and stagecoaches, I was aching all over.”
“Sit down and enjoy a cup of tea.” Nancy placed a hot mug in front of her, then added a plate of sliced orange cake. “Do you like cake, my dear?” she asked in a motherly way. It reminded Bethany of her own dear mother who had departed this earth many years ago. And now Father was with her. His death was far too raw. The moment his funeral was over, Bethany had packed up as many of her belongings as she could fit in her luggage, and left.
With her brother taking over the business, and Father’s will leaving her absolutely nothing, she left. Joseph had no intention of giving her even one cent, despite him offering her a job. A job with no compensation. The absolute cheek of the man! She had trained alongside Father for years. Learned the trade, and was among the best in the county. Because she was born female, it meant absolutely nothing. Her inheritance was stolen from beneath her.
Emotion began to swell and she almost choked on her tea.
Joseph only wanted her there to teach him the family business. As if that would work. Joseph was lazy and didn’t care one iota about the family business. Money was the only thing he cared about. Father should never have allowed for Joseph in his will. He’d never worked in the business despite constant requests, and had been waiting for Father to die for years. There was absolutely no doubt in Bethany’s mind that Joseph would sell the business to the highest bidder the moment the opportunity arose.
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