Brock made a sweeping motion with his arm indicating the entire place. “As you can see, I can sure use the help. I’m not really sure where to begin.”
Sabrina sat down for a moment in a chair by the desk. A plume of dust lifted up from the moth eaten cushion she was sitting on. She tried to talk and ended up choking on the dust. Brock chuckled as he slapped Sabrina on the back a little too hard almost sending her sprawling onto the floor.
“Thanks,” Sabrina muttered after she finally caught her breath. “Well, to start off, we need to get some light in here. You take down the curtains, and I’ll start washing the windows.”
Brock smirked as the little runt started ordering him about as if he owned the place. He shook his head. Well, the kid is helping me; guess I can follow a few orders. He walked over to take down the filthy curtains.
Brock reached up and unhooked the curtains, laying them in a heap by the front door. Sabrina walked outside and filled the bucket in the horse trough. Returning, she soaped up a rag and, standing on a chair, started soaping down the grimy windows one pane at a time.
Not sure what to do next, Brock picked up the broom and started to vigorously sweep up the dirt and paper on the floor. Before long, a huge dust cloud filled the room. The dust burned his eyes and filled his nostrils and he tried not to cough. He heard the boy coughing; then suddenly he was in Brock’s face.
“What are you doing?” Sabrina demanded, grabbing the broom away from the shocked man. “Don’t you even know how to sweep?”
Brock felt his face turning red with anger; first, he was ordered around; then he was yelled at for no reason. Someone needed to teach the boy some manners.
“Listen, I’m the Sheriff here! I’m in charge! This is my office and I say what gets done and by whom, do you hear me?” The boy eyed him angrily for a second, then smirked.
“Fine,” Sabrina said, dropping her rag in the bucket and walking out the door.
Brock’s eyes widened in surprise. He was expecting the boy to back down and apologize, not leave. “Whatever,” he growled as he kicked the bucket in frustration. He cursed as the bucket tipped over and spilled water all over the floor, turning the thick dust into mud.
Sabrina stomped up the boardwalk to the stable. She was muttering under her breath as she walked right past the smiling Mr. Swanson.
“Finished already?” he called after her as she entered the barn. Sabrina ignored him and went up to her favorite horse, Star. She belonged to Mrs. Swanson but she’d never ridden her, at least not to Sabrina’s knowledge. She ran her hand over the mare’s smooth nose as she whispered, “Hey girl, you appreciate me, don’t you?” The horse neighed as if in response and Sabrina smiled.
She had always loved horses, and had been around them all her life. They were such beautiful, graceful animals. She continued rubbing down the horse with a brush using long soft strokes. It always calmed her down, along with the horse. The nerve of that man! Just because he’s good looking and a Sheriff he thinks he can order people around. She started brushing faster. She could feel her face turning red. Did I just say he was good looking?
You idiot! she scolded herself. You can’t risk blowing your cover over some pretty face. Moreover, he is a Sheriff, for Pete’s sake! If he found out who I really am he would turn me over to Warren in an instant. Life just isn’t fair. Especially for women.
The only acceptable jobs out there were cooking, whoring, or teaching. She wasn’t interested in teaching, and she could not cook. In addition, she had too much pride to become a painted dove. At least she had too much at the moment–who knew what the future would hold?
She heard heavy footsteps approaching and heard someone talking to Mr. Swanson. Recognizing the voice she walked over and leaned against the rough wall so that she could hear without being seen.
Mr. Swanson grinned widely as the younger man walked toward him. He was covered in dust from head to toe. So much for his bath yesterday.
“Mornin’ Sheriff.”
Brock nodded as he tried to think of what to say to the man. He wanted Will to help him but he did not want to apologize to the boy.
“Thank you for sending Will over this morning,” he finally blurted.
Mr. Swanson chuckled, “You’ll have to thank him. It’s his day off; he can do as he pleases.”
Brock looked at him in surprise. The boy volunteered to help him? He felt like an ass.
Mr. Swanson continued as he heard Brock groan. “Boys a fine worker, though he can get a little cocky.”
“You can say that again,” Brock agreed. After Will had left he’d tried to continue cleaning but had just managed to make it worse, if that was possible. He had put more water on the floor to help clean up the mud before realizing that it just made more mud. Now most of the floor was covered with it as well as the curtains, which he used in an attempt to soak up the excess water.
“He’s in the barn if you want to talk to him.”
Brock tilted his hat and headed inside. Sabrina heard him coming and hurried back over to Star, who grunted at her, annoyed that she had stopped rubbing her halfway through. She quickly started brushing Star’s other flank as she felt Brock come up behind her.
She ignored him as he coughed to announce his presence. Not getting a response, Brock felt his anger rising again but forced himself to calm down. He probably could have hired one of the local ladies to clean it; well, at least he could have before the mud incident, but for some reason he wanted Will to help him.
Maybe he felt sorry for the lad. Heck, at this point he’d be willing to pay whatever the boy asked. Brock walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. She turned around quickly and looked up. “What do you want?” she spat out, not sure why she was so angry.
“I was wondering if you would help me clean up my office.”
Sabrina raised an eyebrow, surprised that he would stoop so low as to ask her for help. Sabrina sighed as she looked up at his imploring face. She almost smiled. Surely he couldn’t feel helpless, especially with those colts strapped to his waist. Her eyes inadvertently darted to the area between the colts and she felt her face turning red as she looked away.
“Thought you wanted things done your way,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly.
Brock frowned. “Well, I guess my way wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“Oh, all right! But you’re buying me lunch,” Sabrina said in mock exasperation.
Brock chuckled. “Deal, I don’t suppose you can eat that much,” he said, eyeing her small frame. They headed back up to the boardwalk to begin their task.
Sabrina stumbled along the street heading towards the Sheriff’s office. She was having a hard time trying to keep up with Brock’s long stride. Frustrated she stopped abruptly and started strolling along at a leisurely pace. Why the heck was she in a hurry to clean up his mess, anyway? And why the heck did she volunteer for the job twice? I must be getting dense, she thought. See? I’m even talking to myself now.
She passed a shop and stopped suddenly, noticing a new blue silk dress in the window. She had never liked wearing dresses and had only done so under threat or force, but this dress was a beauty. She could imagine herself in it at a grand ball dancing with a tall dark handsome man who looked an awful lot like Brock. In fact, she could see Brock’s face in front of her looking at her strangely. She realized that she was seeing his reflection on the glass in front of her and turned around quickly, scowling at him. “What?” she said gruffly, lowering her voice. She could feel her face reddening and she looked away quickly, heading towards the office at a medium pace. Brock followed her, walking slowly.
“I was afraid you got lost.”
“Well, this isn’t a cattle drive! I don’t walk as fast as you do. Why should I hurry to help clean up your mess anyway?” She mumbled the last part to herself but he heard anyhow.
“Didn’t look like you were walking at all. Looked like you were gawking at a dress. Is there a girl you’re sweet on?�
�� Brock asked, smiling.
“One more word and I’ll be walking the other way,” Sabrina retorted and Brock hid a grin. He was used to people respecting him, or at least fearing him, but this boy did neither. Will seemed to be quite confident in his abilities, which was very rare in a boy his age. ‘Course a kid had to grow up fast out here to survive. Brock estimated him to be about thirteen or fourteen years old since it didn’t appear that he needed to shave. But he seemed so much more mature.
The pair arrived outside the office and Sabrina waited impatiently while Brock unlocked the door. He cringed as he opened it slowly. Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the devastation she saw before her.
“What have you done? I left you alone for ten minutes!” Her boots squished on the muddy floor as she looked over the room. Mud was splattered everywhere and the once dirty curtains were in a filth-sodden pile next to the overturned bucket.
“I had a little accident,” Brock explained.
Sabrina turned on him, her voice rising with every word. “An accident? The fall of Rome was an accident! This is a disaster! It’s going to take days to clean this up.”
“I’d be willing to pay you,” Brock offered hopefully, still unsure why he was begging this boy to help him or why he really wanted him to say yes.
“No thanks, I already have a job!” Sabrina sighed at the look of desperation on his face. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. She could not pass over an animal in need, even if it was human. “Oh, all right! Let’s just get started? You wash the windows inside and out and I guess I’ll start on the quagmire.” She gave Brock a look, daring him to say anything. He just shrugged as he picked up the bucket to get more water.
Brock decided it was safest to start on the outside. It was a bit humiliating to be seen washing windows as the townsfolk walked by with whispers and grins, but he refused to back down from his promise. At least he didn’t need a chair, he was tall enough to reach all of the windows without one. He thoroughly soaped and rinsed them twice for good measure.
“So you’re the new Sheriff,” a feminine voice stated from behind him. He turned, noticing the lady who had rented the carriage previously. She was with the same man.
“Yes, ma’am,” Brock said tilting his hat to her.
“I didn’t realize who you were yesterday. I’m Sally Reynolds and this is my brother, Thomas. Our father is the doctor,” she said with a haughty tone.
Brock forced a smile as he sighed inwardly. Women like her just screamed trouble. Suddenly a large wet mass flew out of the open doorway and splattered close to the lady’s feet. Speckles of must splattered her dress.
Sabrina grinned as she heard the squeal from Sally. She really had no idea what had come over her. She’d dealt with her many times in the past and had never gotten upset with her better than thou attitude, but when she heard her talking to Brock a strange feeling crept over her. Without thinking, she’d grabbed the sodden curtains and tossed them outside.
She heard Brock apologizing profusely, explaining that Will had not seen her standing there. Then Sabrina heard her walking off in a huff, with her underling of a brother following after her, muttering apologies to Brock for her behavior.
Sabrina expected another confrontation with Brock when he stepped inside the office and was surprised and disappointed when he came in chuckling.
“I take it that you don’t like the Reynolds.”
Sabrina forced a look of surprise on her face. “The Reynolds stopped by? I hadn’t realized.”
She had scraped off the first layer of sodden debris and shoveled it into the door-less cell to be removed later. It would be easier to move when it was dry. She had then tried to soak up the remaining mud, working backwards from the corner so that it would be not be full of muddy footprints when it dried.
She stretched out her aching back like a cat and looked over her handiwork. “Well, I guess that’s all we can do until the floor dries. I’ll take the drapes down to the creek later and see if I can salvage them.” She paused. “I guess you don’t need pretty curtains for a jail,” Sabrina said sarcastically.
Brock shook his head “Well, let’s go get some food and then you can show me where the creek is and I’ll lend you a hand since it’s my mess.”
Sabrina nodded and headed toward the saloon. Brock stopped her. “We’ll eat at the boarding house. The last steak I had at the saloon tasted like shoe leather.”
Sabrina laughed. “Mac must not like you very much; he’s a great cook. He used to run the chuck wagon back when Mr. Swanson had his ranch.”
Brock huffed and headed up the steps to his temporary home. Mrs. Hawkins was in the kitchen fixing lunch for herself. Seeing him enter with his guest, she smiled and added two more plates.
Sabrina hungrily wolfed down the chicken and dumplings. They were made the same way Alma made them: rolled out and cut. They somehow tasted better than the dropped dumplings Mac made, less doughy. She dipped the still warm hoe cakes in the broth and took a huge bite. She looked up and found Brock watching her amused. She glared at him and wiped the crumbs off her face.
“What?” she muttered as a spray of dry bread crumbs fell from her mouth. Her mother would have been appalled if she’d seen her eating like that but Sabrina had to keep up appearances.
“And to think I imagined you wouldn’t eat that much,” Brock said, as he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin.
“Leave him be; he’s a growing boy,” Mrs. Hawkins said, patting Sabrina on her arm. She forced a smile at the older lady.
After lunch they packed up the muddy curtains and stopped by the livery for horses. Brock rode Troy and Sabrina rode Star. Mr. Swanson allowed her to take Star out whenever she wished.
They were quiet as they rode and Sabrina’s thoughts again drifted to the past. She was thinking about the last time she saw her brother. They had several horrible arguments. Warren wanted Sabrina to go back to Boston with him and stay in a boarding school with other young women of her stature. He would leave Daniel, their current foreman, in charge of the ranch. Sabrina was adamant that she would not go. She would not leave her home and family to go up North to some girls’ school to learn “to be a lady.”
Her mother taught all of them including Samuel to read, write, do their math and play music. She didn’t need any more schooling. She felt that Warren just wanted to get her married off so he wouldn’t have to deal with her and she told him so. Warren was unreasonable, to say the least, but Sabrina found herself a week later on a train to Boston with a chaperone. Warren had to work out some details with the ranch and would follow later. She was to stay with her Aunt Betty, her mother’s sister, until Warren arrived.
Her mother came from a wealthy family. It was old money–they could trace their roots back to English royalty–or so she was told. She never had to think about money before; everything was always provided for her. Warren had given her some extra money for items during her trip and she kept it secure in the pocket of her skirt. Yes, she was wearing a skirt begrudgingly. She intentionally wore a big fluffy skirt to conceal the pants she wore underneath.
She had devised a plan and it did not include her going to Boston. That was about three years ago. She waited ‘til her chaperone was asleep and hopped off the train as it neared the next station, and Will was born.
It didn’t work out exactly the way she planned. She was initially going to contact her cousins but she was scared that they would take Warren’s side. She drifted from town to town keeping up her disguise. It was just safer that way. Since her father was a Marshall, she had heard her parents whispering together at night about things that sometimes happened to young girls in rough towns so she was very careful.
She eventually wound up in Tulsey Town. Exhausted and nearly out of money, she took refuge in the stable during a winter storm. Mr. Swanson found her in the morning and the rest was history. She didn’t know if Warren was still looking for her, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
One day she happened to overhear someone telling Mr. Swanson that Warren Lovett was an attorney for the new circuit court Judge. She guessed he took that position to keep searching for her so he could ruin her life again. But this was her new home and her new family and she did not want to leave.
Her horse neighed softly and Sabrina forced herself back to reality. It seemed like lately she had been thinking more about the past than the present. She would have to try to stay more focused, especially around Brock. His eyes and ears were much more keen than Mr. Swanson’s.
“Almost there. So how did you end up in Tulsa?” Sabrina asked, breaking the silence.
“Mostly just lookin’ for a nice place to settle. I’ve been drifting like a tumbleweed for years now. I’m looking for someplace to plant my feet. I heard about the opening and here I am.” Brock turned to Sabrina and smiled so brightly she had to turn her head.
“It does have a certain charm that whispers home. I don’t have much family left so I kinda feel like the town I live in is my family.” Sabrina’s brain suddenly told her mouth to shut up. She had kept her secret by not talking to anyone about her past. Most townsfolk had been too busy to notice Will, much less drum up a conversation with the boy, which is a good thing because Will had not grown an inch in the two years that she had been there. That in itself was very unusual for a boy. She should have moved on by now, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Brock didn’t make a reply, and Sabrina was happy to see the creek in the distance. At least cleaning the curtains would give her something to concentrate on besides looking at Brock. She couldn’t help it. He was perfect: tall, muscular, handsome, smart, everything she would want in a man. And he thought she was a boy. Great.
They pulled up to the creek and ground-tied their horses. They’d had several bad storms lately and the creek was at its brink. The water was rushing fast, which would make it easier to clean the curtains.
Brock lifted one eyebrow, looking at the water. “How deep is this creek?”
The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances Page 3