The Secret Admirer Romance Collection

by Barratt, Amanda; Beatty, Lorraine; Bull, Molly Noble

  Mitch fumed. Greenly was making it sound like all he did was track down the faces on the WANTED posters.

  Greenly raised a hand in the air. “We’ll send a clear message that their kind isn’t welcome in Riverton anymore.”

  Mitch pushed away from the post and headed back to his office. If only it were that simple. Tell the outlaws to stay away. Post a sign that says we’re respectable and all will be well.

  Greenly knew nothing about upholding the law or how to deal with outlaws. But he did. And he made sure he kept one step ahead of them. But it was getting harder. The truth was, the sudden growth of the town was stretching his two deputies pretty thin. He needed to hire another man, but the town fathers hadn’t seen fit to increase the budget to make that happen.

  Hannah’s taunts echoed through his mind. Were his days as sheriff numbered? He had no plans for his future. He liked Riverton and figured he’d be here till they plowed him under. Maybe he should take out an ad in the Chronicle. No. He’d stand on his record and on his work.

  Hannah set her fine china cup lightly into the saucer, smiling at the women gathered for tea at Mrs. Cosgrove’s home. “Yes, it’s true. The bustle is making a comeback. However, it’s smaller and lighter and narrower, which will make it more ladylike.”

  “Oh, my. I can’t say I’m pleased.” Maude Danvers sighed loudly. “I sometimes envy the farmers’ wives. They don’t have time to worry about fashion. They wear practical clothes, which are undoubtedly more comfortable.”

  Florence Cosgrove tilted her nose upward. “But not as fashionable. Fashion is a reflection of a civilized society.”

  Hannah listened as the women debated the merits of high style. She’d spent much of her time regaling the women with the latest news from back east. The fashions, the trends, the scandals, the newest plays and music, and the growing trend of women in the workplace. A subject that had stirred a little controversy.

  Florence stirred her tea and looked at Hannah. “Tell me, Miss Davis, do you actually work for your aunt at the paper?”

  The stunned look on the woman’s face spoke volumes, causing Hannah to choose her words carefully. She’d made huge inroads into the women’s circle today, and she didn’t want to jeopardize it. “Oh, no. I do help some, sweeping, and sometimes I’ll help her write an article. My father owned a large paper back in Cincinnati so I understand how things work.”

  “So you approve of women working in offices and doing a man’s job?” Naomi Bower peered over the rim of her cup.

  “It doesn’t matter if I approve. It’s happening. The world is changing and we have to accept that.”

  “Things are certainly changing here in Riverton. Which is why we need a new sheriff. Someone more worldly and respectable.”

  Hannah dabbed her napkin against her mouth to still her defensive response. “I understand he’s been sheriff a long time. Five years or so.”

  “Yes, and he’s competent, I suppose, but our former mayor was the undertaker.” She huffed. “Hardly the image we want to send back to potential settlers. They want to come to a town that is safe and filled with honest, hardworking people like themselves.”

  Hannah nodded. “The sheriff certainly has a chip on his shoulder toward women from the East.”

  “Oh, that’s because of Lydia.”

  Florence nodded. “Yes, I did feel sorry for him in that matter. It really was a distasteful series of events.”

  “What happened?”

  Maude leaned forward. “She set her cap for him from the moment she came to town. She was here with her father for the opening of the new rail line. She lured him into her web right off. The sheriff was quite smitten with her, but when he asked her to stay here and marry him, she brushed him aside and climbed on the train and went back east.”

  “It was quite humiliating for the man.”

  Hannah lowered her gaze. No wonder he’d been so harsh.

  “I suppose, but really a man like him thinking he could marry up. Arrogant attitude if you ask me.”

  “Rosemond, don’t be a snob. You’re no better than she was looking down on people.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. But he’s a small-town sheriff. She was a New York socialite.” She arched her neck as if to say that explained everything.

  “Love can close any gap.” Hannah pressed her lips together. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Ladies, I have enjoyed this afternoon immensely. Thank you so much for including me. I hope you’ll invite me again.”

  “Of course. You’re a breath of fresh air. You’ll have to tell us more about those new gowns the women are wearing. Perhaps show our local seamstress.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  “Before you go, we’d like to invite you to join our historical society.”

  “I didn’t know you had one.”

  “It’s newly organized. We felt that in the light of the railroad and the sudden growth in Riverton it was important to record our history. You would be a welcome addition.”

  “I would very much like to be part of that worthwhile cause. In fact, I could mention to my aunt about publishing an article about your society. Provided, of course, you are looking for more members.”

  “We are. An article in the paper could call attention to our mission. A thorough history will require input from everyone, in particular the families who originally settled this area.” Hannah pulled on her gloves and looped the handle of her reticule over her wrist. “Mrs. Cosgrove. Has my aunt ever printed a report on your get-togethers?”

  “No, why?”

  “I was thinking it might be time to start a society section in the Chronicle, a place where you could share your events, report on what happened and who was there.”

  Mrs. Cosgrove inhaled a deep breath. “That would be wonderful. Do you think she’d be agreeable?”

  “She is overworked presently, but if I offered to write the piece she might. Of course, unless you ladies would be offended by a woman writing for the paper…”

  “As long as you were the one doing the reporting. We can be assured that you’ll do an honest job. Like you said, times are changing.”

  “Thank you. Your faith in me is humbling. I’ll speak with her the moment I get to the office.”

  Hannah felt light as a feather as she hurried to the paper. Her first step into the small world of Riverton society had been a success. She’d made friends, gained trust, and created a position for herself. She’d also learned more about Mitch. The only sour note in her afternoon. No wonder he was so distant and prickly. She’d like to snatch the hair right out of the head of that Lydia woman. She was familiar with the type. Selfish and uppity, they enjoyed using people as entertainment with no thought to their feelings.

  Her heart ached for Mitch. He was a proud man, and he deserved better than the likes of a woman like that.

  Chapter 4

  Mitch rested his hands on his gun belt Monday afternoon as he listened to the shopkeeper’s complaint. Someone had been stealing his crates of nails from behind the store. “Do you always keep the extras out here?”

  “I have been. They take up too much room in the store. But they’re in great demand.”

  Mitch glanced around the area behind the shop. Tucked between two other buildings it should have been safe unless someone knew the extra supplies were kept there.

  “What are you going to do about it, Sheriff?”

  “I’ll keep watch tonight, see if anyone shows up. You say it always happens on a Tuesday?”

  “So far. That’s the day the wagon drops off the order. I want this scoundrel caught.”

  “In the meantime, I suggest you either keep these inside or build you a sturdy container and lock them up.”

  “Sad day when a man can’t keep his belongings on his own property.”

  Mitch couldn’t disagree. “The town is growing. More people means more opportunities for things to go missing.”

  “Well, I hope the new sheriff can keep things
under control.” The merchant winced and lowered his eyes. “Sorry. I just meant we need more oversight.”

  “Right.” Mitch bid good-bye then strolled out of the alleyway onto the boardwalk. He couldn’t be everywhere at once. The rise in crime was inevitable. But putting on an air of respectability wouldn’t deter thieves. Willard Greenly had no idea what he was facing when he got elected.

  When? Was he starting to have doubts about keeping his job?

  “Hey, Sheriff.” Claude Dixon, the druggist, nodded and smiled as he passed. “I see you’re checking on things more often these days. Makes me feel good to look out and see you’re on the job.”

  “That’s what you pay me for.”

  “True enough. But I’m glad to see you’ve started to campaign a little. Greenly is shouting his case all over town. Those posters of yours will make people stop and think twice before they vote in a weasel like Greenly.”

  “What posters?”

  “The ones that say ‘Vote for Kincaid.’ They’re popping up all over town.” He pointed to one tacked on a post farther down the sidewalk.

  Even at this distance, it had a strangely familiar look about it. The closer he got, the more his anger burned. The post had his name in big letters, and below it read: THE BEST MAN FOR THE JOB. Why couldn’t the woman take no for an answer?

  “Nice poster, Sheriff.”

  Mitch ignored the comment and glanced around the street. He could see at least half a dozen more flyers attached to posts and walls. He started to take down the nearest one when he spied the object of his irritation coming toward him. She wore a pale blue dress with few frills, and her determined pace made the skirt swirl around her feet pleasingly. Her hair was tied with a ribbon on top of her head. The look of excitement on her face almost made him change his mind about approaching her. She had a smile that could melt any heart. But she had a will that needed corralled.

  She hadn’t noticed him yet, so he stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and steered her toward the post. “Is this your doing?”

  She blinked and tried to pull her arm from his grasp. “No. I have no idea who put this up.”

  “They’re all over town. I thought I made myself clear about no campaigning.” Her green eyes widened and he felt her tremble under his hand. His conscience flared. He hadn’t meant to frighten her. He released her, exhaling a tense breath.

  “You did. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. But I’ll take care of it immediately.” She reached up and pulled the paper from the post, crying out, “Ouch!” She grabbed her finger.

  He was horrified to see blood trickling down her fingers and into her palm. Speechless, he took her hand, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and covered the cut. “Don’t you know any better than to pull something from a wooden post?” His protective instincts flared. He shouldn’t have let his irritation get the better of him.

  “I was trying to rectify the mistake.”

  “You wouldn’t have to if you’d listened to me in the first place.” He marched her down the walk and into his office keeping her wrist in his hand as he pulled ointment from the drawer. Pouring water from the pitcher into the bowl, he plunged her hand in.

  “That stings.”

  “I know.” With the cut cleaned, he applied ointment and wrapped a clean bandage around her finger. He looked into her eyes, relieved to see the pain and fear were gone. Her green eyes were clear and staring directly into his. He realized with a jolt that he was still holding her wrist, the skin warm and soft under his fingers, and so delicate he could feel her pulse beating under the surface.

  He wanted to look away but found it impossible. She was so close he could smell the lavender scent of her hair. He tore his gaze away, struggling to tame the wild rushing of his heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself.” She made no move to pull free of his grasp.

  “I should have been more careful. I didn’t think about splinters. I will on the next poster I take down.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  Her eyes brightened. “You mean you’ll leave them up?”

  “No.” He released her. “I meant I’ll take them down myself.”

  “Oh.”

  Her mouth drooped into an adorable pout, and he felt like he’d just kicked a puppy. “I appreciate your enthusiasm and your support, but I don’t need any woman directing my life. Is that clear?”

  “But if you don’t stand up for your job, you could lose it to that slick—”

  “That’s my concern. Not yours.”

  “Fine. If you’re content to let five years of dedication go to waste, far be it from me to try and stop you. Good day, Sheriff.”

  Green eyes snapping, she pushed past and started for the door then abruptly stopped and whirled around to face him. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. I won’t be bothering you again. I know a lost cause when I see one.”

  Mitch ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had a gang of outlaws to go after. A hard ride through the open range was just what he needed to clear his head. He’d been spending too much time in his office, too much time doing paperwork and not enough keeping the peace and bringing bad guys to justice. Too much time thinking about the appealing Miss Davis. He’d formed a bad habit of looking for her whenever he made his rounds. He’d even considered looking in on the newspaper office. Thankfully he’d avoided that mistake.

  Leroy tromped in, bringing with him the smell of tobacco and horse. “I just saw Miss Davis storming away. You two have another set-to?”

  “I want you to go around town and take down all those posters. Then see if you can find out who put them up. I’m going to ride out to the Echols’ place. He found a dead heifer this morning and he thinks there might be rustlers moving in.”

  “We haven’t had rustlers around here for two years.”

  “And I want to make sure we don’t have any now.”

  Mitch grabbed up his gun belt, took a rifle from the shelf, and set his hat on his head, ignoring the voice inside that called him a coward and a weakling for running away from his feelings. “I’ll be back later.”

  Chapter 5

  Hannah coddled her anger toward Mitch the rest of the day. Why wouldn’t he listen? She’d watched him as he made his daily strolls around town. His keen eyes took in every detail, his politeness extended to everyone. Yet he carried about him an authoritative air that silently warned there would be a price to pay for misconduct on his watch.

  She couldn’t imagine Riverton under the care of Willard Greenly. He would alienate the townspeople within a week. He would ignore the needs of the simple citizens and only concern himself with those with influence. A death knell for a town like Riverton. There had to be a way to encourage the townspeople to vote for Mitch, to remind them of what he’d done for them, how important his contributions and how sterling his character. Virtues not to be dismissed because a polished Eastern man was flooding the town with empty promises.

  A poster displayed on the side of the millinery store caught her attention as she started to cross the street. Somehow this one had been missed. Carefully she tugged it away, remembering how gentle Mitch had been earlier as he’d tended to her cut. She couldn’t deny her feelings any longer. Her heart had raced as he’d held her wrist. His touch had been gentle despite his sharp tone. He’d felt badly that he’d caused her injury. She’d seen the regret in his eyes. Mitch was the protective type who stood guard over all those under his care—men, women, children, and females who irritated him. But for a moment, she thought she’d seen something more in his eyes. Admiration. Was he attracted to her? Or was she so desperate that she was starting to imagine things because her own heart was already involved?

  Maybe she really was a silly Eastern female. Folding the paper, she slipped it into the pocket of her skirt, aware of voices coming from the alley beside her.

  “I don’t know about this. It don’t seem right somehow.”

  “He’s already lost. You know that. Greenly has the vote in his pocket.
I’m just looking to seal the deal. One dollar. One vote.”

  “A dollar. Just for voting for Greenly?”

  “I know you can use the money, Zeke. That will go a long way to feeding those five kids of yours.”

  “True, but I don’t think my wife would like this.”

  Hannah held her breath, frozen in place, not wanting to reveal her presence. Her stomach knotted at what she was hearing. Vote buying. It was distasteful and appalling. There had to be a law against it.

  The voices lowered and she lost the conversation. Turning, she took a step away as the two men emerged from the alley. The taller man strode past her as if she were invisible, the other, a farmer from the looks of him, shoved his hand in his pocket and shuffled down the boardwalk as if ashamed at what he’d done. As he should be. She had to tell Mitch.

  She glanced at the sheriff’s office. She’d just told him she wouldn’t interfere, but she couldn’t let this go. It was wrong, and he was the sheriff after all.

  Gathering her courage, she retraced her steps. As she started forward she saw Mr. Cosgrove step from the bank. The tall man sidled up to him. Eager to hear what was being said she quickened her steps, trying to look preoccupied with the paper in her hand.

  “I’ll add his name to the list.”

  “I hope you have it in a safe place. It’ll come in handy after the election.”

  “The safest.” Cosgrove chuckled and slapped the tall man on the back. “Keep up the good work, Jenkins.”

  By the time she reached the sheriff’s office her indignation was boiling over. Mitch was seated at his desk when she entered. For a moment his blue eyes lit up then darkened. Obviously not pleased to see her again.

  “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”