She huffed out a breath and hurried downstairs. Aunt Polly was packing up cookies and sweet bread in baskets that would be served along with the ice cream. “I can take those with me. I’m ready.”
“Thank you, dear. I want to change out of my church clothes. I’ll see you there.”
The church was only a short distance from the house, and Hannah could hear the activity on the grounds as she drew near. Tables were being set up in the shade of the oak tree, and the women were fussing over the food table placed nearby. Several men were turning the cranks of the ice-cream churns that had become so popular. She spied Florence Cosgrove and started to wave when she realized the woman was talking to Mitch. She stopped. Her heart pounding. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Looking around she searched for another place to take her baked goods. As she looked back, Mitch’s gaze snagged hers and she froze. Her breath caught in her throat. He looked so handsome. The light blue shirt he wore matched his eyes, and the crooked smile on his face wrapped around her heart like a morning glory vine. He came toward her, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I’ll take those.” He held out his hand for the baskets.
She handed them to him unable to find her voice. She forced her feet to move, searching frantically for something to say that would ease the horrible tension between them.
“I think we’re going to have a big turnout.”
“Everyone likes ice cream.” Inwardly she rolled her eyes. That was an intelligent response.
“I know I do.”
When the baskets had been delivered to the table, Mitch tipped his hat and walked off, leaving her confused and rattled. Then she realized he was simply being polite, the way he would to any woman.
With effort, she shook off the disappointment surrounding her heart. She needed to think beyond her own feelings. Today’s social provided her the perfect opportunity to ask questions, poke around about the unusual number of foreclosures and that votebuying scheme. If she could find that list of names, maybe she could use it to prove to the voters that Greenly wasn’t the right man for their sheriff.
She was still waiting for a reply to the telegram she’d sent last week. Her father had influential friends back east, and she’d requested information on Greenly from one of them. Mitch’s opponent claimed to have worked for years with Pinkerton. She had the resources to find out if that was true or not. She’d also asked her contact to see what else he could find on Mr. Willard Greenly. She had a pretty good idea what they’d discover, but she wasn’t sure what she would do with that information when it arrived.
A group of men were gathering near the small barn on the grounds. Greenly’s voice could be heard rising above the rest. Chester shuffled up to the group only to halt when Greenly pointed at him.
“Right here is a prime example of the kind of people we will no longer tolerate in Riverton. When I’m elected, I won’t stand for the riffraff and layabouts sullying our streets, threatening the decency of our town.”
Hannah fumed. “Are you saying that only the well-off are allowed to live in Riverton?”
“Certainly not. But we want industrious folks, people who contribute to the welfare of the town. Not slackers and drunkards.”
Chester raised his hand. “I have a job at the livery.”
“The wages of which you spend on drink.”
Hannah was fuming. “So you’d force people like Chester to leave? What about those who are sick or injured? Would you forbid them to live in Riverton, too? What if someone suffers a reversal of fortunes, like losing their land or their family through no fault of their own? Would you chase them away, too?”
“If a citizen of Riverton cannot support himself and be a productive member of society, then he must look elsewhere for his food and shelter. We’re not going to condone beggars and wastrels.”
The crowd was eerily silent. Greenly’s voice had risen considerably as he’d warmed to his topic. The stunned expressions on the faces showed their shock. Greenly suddenly realized he might have gone too far and cleared his throat. “Well, uh, of course, things happen, and when a neighbor is in need we would, of course, step in to help—only until they could get back on their feet, of course. Riverton isn’t a charity town.”
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest exhaling a pent-up breath. “That man is despicable.”
Mitch moved up behind her, leaning forward and speaking softly into her ear. His nearness sent a warm rush through her veins. “I’d be careful how far you push Candidate Greenly. I suspect the man has a short fuse when he’s challenged.”
“Someone needs to challenge him. He’s going to destroy this town if he gets elected.” She made a quick decision. “I’ve been in touch with a friend of my father who works for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”
“You doubt that he worked for them?”
“Don’t you?”
“I’ve made some inquiries of my own. Nothing back yet. Let me know what you hear.” He moved off.
Hannah watched him go, wishing they could have talked awhile longer and compared notes. She consoled herself by sitting with Chester awhile longer before moving off to see what else she could discover. The ice cream social was a success. Everyone was having a good time despite the stumping by Greenly.
She wasn’t going to let this golden opportunity pass her by. She might even push Greenly a little more. Even he wouldn’t strike back at a woman, especially a close friend of Cosgrove’s wife.
Chapter 9
Mitch mingled with townsfolk, greeting farmers and ranchers from outlying areas who only made it to town every few months or so. Glad-handing wasn’t his strong suit, but he did carry a deep affection for the people of Riverton. They’d welcomed him in five years ago, a young man with little experience and a strong determination to turn the rowdy town around. He’d hoped that would be enough to keep his job, but lately he was beginning to wonder.
He had mixed emotions about the two articles The Advocate had written so far. Mostly touting his qualifications and his experience. The parts that made him uncomfortable spoke about his character. His humility and kindness. He didn’t know what that had to do with being a lawman. Still it had spurred folks in town to come up to him and express their appreciation and their support in the upcoming election.
What he wanted to know was who was writing them. Leroy kept teasing him that they were written by someone with a fancy for him. A notion he refused to even consider.
After a short break to stroll through the town to make sure no one was taking advantage of the nearly empty streets, Mitch returned to the church grounds. Most of the ice cream and pastries had been consumed. A small group had gathered around Greenly again as he sang his praises to all willing ears.
As he approached he heard the voices rise and the tone turn angry. A fist went up in the air. He focused on the man he recognized as Will Caddy, a man always spoiling for a fight, only to realize that Hannah was right beside him. He’d seen enough gatherings like these turn ugly in a flash, and he had a sense this was going to be one of them. He quickened his steps as the crowd grew louder and started to move around. Greenly held up his hands and the shouting increased. Shoving began and quickly escalated.
“Hannah.”
He ran toward her only to lose her in the scuffle. He stepped into the fray shoving aside bodies as he searched for her. He saw her pushed against the barn wall and his blood boiled. He plunged forward, pulling her against him and fought his way to a safe place. He settled her against the side of the barn and looked her over for injuries. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head and looked into his eyes. Fear dulled the green eyes. He rested his hand on her cheek. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull her into his arms and protect her forever. But he had a more pressing matter. If he didn’t do something about this fight, more people could be hurt. “Stay here.”
He spun and strode back to the fracas. So far only fists ha
d been thrown, but soon the guns would come out. He saw Greenly in the middle making a feeble attempt to stop the ruckus. Neither his words nor his actions had any effect.
Mitch pulled his gun from his holster, aimed at the sky, and fired two shots. The report stopped the men in their tracks. Once he had all their attention, he lowered his gun but didn’t holster it. “I don’t know what you men are fighting about, but it’s over. Now.”
“But, Sheriff—”
Mitch set his jaw. “It’s done. These nice ladies have gone to a lot of trouble to put this shindig together, and I don’t want to see it ruined. You can either stop the fighting or we can all go down to the jail and discuss things there. Your choice.”
The men reluctantly moved away, several of them tugged off by their wives. Thankfully, the ruckus settled. Greenly came toward him, loaded for a fight.
“I had things under control.”
“If you say so.” Mitch holstered his gun.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying. You pull your gun when a reasonable approach would suffice.”
“Your fancy words weren’t getting anywhere.”
His concern now was for Hannah. He looked for her. She was still standing against the barn, her hands at her side, her green eyes wide. He went to her, gently guiding her through the barn door and pulling it shut behind him.
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
She nodded, but her eyes were moist.
“What happened? How did it get started?”
She wiped her eyes. “I’m not sure. Greenly was talking about the town growing and new businesses coming in. Someone said those new businesses were going to be built on land that had been stolen from them. Someone asked if Greenly was going to look into the foreclosures over the last year. Greenly tried to divert their attention to something else, but more men spoke up. I was going to ask about it, too, but then the shouting started and the shoving and then you were there. Thank you, for saving me.”
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Men can get riled pretty quick. You could have been seriously hurt.” He tilted her chin upward with his fingers. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“You don’t?”
His thumb caressed her soft cheek. “It’s my job to protect you.”
“Why? Because you’re the sheriff?”
“Yes, but that’s not all.” He leaned down. It would be so easy to steal a kiss. They were all alone, and she was so beautiful. He gripped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “You need to be careful. Don’t put yourself in dangerous positions. I may not be around to pull you out next time.”
“I can pull myself out. I would have this time, but I was caught off guard.”
Mitch set his jaw. Stubborn woman. “You’re going to do what you want anyway.”
“Yes, I am.”
He turned and left. His last image of her was standing defiantly in the barn with dust particles floating around her head from the sun streaming through the window. It was hard to maintain his anger and concern when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her sweet obstinate lips.
He was a fool.
Chapter 10
Riverton Chronicle
September 21, 1881
Our Sentinel
Our sheriff took immediate steps to quell a possible brawl on the church grounds. He is a man of action. A man who aggressively maintains peace, not one who waits for disruption then attempts to stop it. What kind of sheriff do you want watching over our town? A man who confronts the threat with authority or a man who knows the law written in books but not its practical application? The merchants have a right to expect protection. But filing charges and waiting for the court system to administer justice is a lengthy process. Riverton is growing, but in our haste to be respectable let us not toss aside the very real need of a man who can take charge and settle disputes with fairness and respect.
The Advocate
Hannah read over her third article, printed in the latest Chronicle one more time and now held her fourth and final in her hand, ready to secretly submit it. This was the last one. The election was tomorrow. She wasn’t sure her advocating on Mitch’s behalf had guaranteed him the election. She was aware of the stir they caused if the many overheard conversations were any indication. But she wouldn’t know for certain until tomorrow when the votes were cast. She’d prayed daily over every word she wrote, asking for His blessing on her endeavors. Surely God wanted a good man like Mitch for the town’s sheriff.
She refused to think about what would happen if Greenly was elected. Picking up an envelope, she folded the article and slipped it inside, sealing it and printing THE ADVOCATE in block letters on the front. A glance at the clock told her she was running late. Normally she would slip out of the house early and shove the envelope under the door of the newspaper office for her aunt to find when she came in. She might not make it today.
Quietly she stepped from her room reminding herself to avoid the third step from the bottom on the stairs that creaked.
“I’ll take that in for you.”
Hannah whirled, coming face-to-face with her aunt. Her hand was extended and a knowing smirk softened her features.
She wiggled her fingers. “Hand it over. I’ll save you a trip and you can enjoy the muffins I have waiting in the kitchen.”
“How did you find out? I was so careful.”
“You were. At first. I really didn’t know it was you writing those articles until the third one.” She grinned, slipping the envelope into her skirt pocket. “You got careless and let your emotions show through.”
“No. I was very cautious about that. I rewrote each one several times to make sure it sounded completely professional and objective.”
“And you did a good job. Most people wouldn’t have noticed. But I know you, and I know that somewhere along the way you’ve fallen in love with our sheriff.”
Hannah raised her hand to deny it. “No, I haven’t. He’s the best man for the job, and since he wouldn’t lift a finger to help himself win, the least I could do was remind everyone what he had contributed and how well qualified he was for the position.”
“It’s all right, dear. I understand. I just hope the man appreciates what you’re doing for him.” She patted her hand. “How does he feel about you?”
“He doesn’t. I’m not his type. He wants a nice, docile, complacent woman. I’m certainly not that.”
“That might be what he thinks he wants but not what he needs. Give it time. Maybe after the election, things will change.”
“You won’t tell him, will you? You won’t tell anyone, promise me.”
“Of course, I won’t. But I think it was a fine thing you did for Mitch. You’re right. He is the best man for the job, and if the voters have any sense at all they’ll vote him back in office.”
Hannah spent the rest of the day helping the ladies at the historical society and did her usual stealthy surveillance of the activities in the town. Since she’d started her investigating, she’d managed to find several interesting goings-on and called attention to oversights that she’d printed in the paper under the name J. D. Wright. The initials for her father—Joseph Davis—and the Wright as a play on words.
She saw Mitch ride out of town midmorning causing her spirits to sag. They rarely spoke since the moment in the barn at the social, but at least she could comfort herself with glimpses of him around town. She knew to the minute when he would make his strolls along the streets and made sure she was out and about at the same time. Silly, but it was better than not seeing him at all.
Would he understand what she was trying to do with her articles? He’d quit complaining about them to Polly after the second one was printed. She wasn’t sure if he’d just given up or if he’d come to appreciate them. Worse yet, what if he hadn’t even read them? Perish the thought.
Late in the afternoon Hannah offered to make the deposit at the bank for her aunt. The small lobby was bu
stling with activity. As she left the teller window, she noticed Mr. Cosgrove and his man Jenkins huddled in the doorway of the banker’s office. A paper passed between them surreptitiously. Casually she moved closer, straining to hear their conversation.
“Are these the latest names? Greenly has to win for our plans to work. I’ve got the list, don’t worry.”
Jenkins nodded. “You know Chester has been spouting off about you stealing his land. He says you changed the dates on his mortgage so you could foreclose.”
“No one is going to listen to that old drunk. You just make sure Greenly has all the votes he needs.”
Hannah kept her face averted until she heard the voices dying off. The men had left the bank and the door to Cosgrove’s office was wide open. If she could find the list of those who’d sold their votes or, better yet, the mortgage papers from Chester’s land, she could prove his land had been stolen from him and maybe Mitch could get it back.
Slipping into the office, she slowly closed the door. Quickly she scanned the papers on the large desk. Next she opened several drawers but didn’t find any list. The large file cabinets weren’t locked, so she selected the one with the letter G and searched for one labeled GOODMAN.
“I knew you were a troublemaker, but I never suspected you were a thief.”
Hannah whirled around, her body hot with humiliation. “I was just looking for—” What could she say? Something to prove you are a crook.
“Whatever you were looking for is unimportant. I think it’s time you were taught a lesson.” He took her arm and steered her to the chair and shoved her down into it. “Jenkins.”
The Secret Admirer Romance Collection Page 11