"We've been married almost two years. I hoped they would've accepted me by now, but it doesn't look like happening anytime soon." The younger man let out a heavy sigh. "This mess is taking it's toll on Ida, and I'm not sure how much more she can handle. She can't believe her parents are being so stubborn and ignoring her after all this time."
Jake was well acquainted with the 'mess' his deputy mentioned. Ida's parents had wanted her to marry a wealthy young man from Dallas, but she'd refused. She insisted on being wed to someone she loved, and had told the boy to go home and forget about her. When he declared she'd marry him, she picked up her father's shotgun, fired a round over his shoulder, and threatened to put the next one between his eyes if he didn't leave. Fearing for his life, the guy went back to Dallas as fast as he was able. There was little advantage in marrying a woman who tried to shoot your head off every time she was upset about something.
Naturally, her parents were humiliated and after the incident, decided to have nothing more to do with their daughter. When they learned she intended to marry Bobby, the whole town quickly became aware of her parent's hostile attitude towards her and Bobby. Apparently, a lawman wasn't good enough for them, but Ida didn't seem to care what they thought. She loved her man and that was more important than what her parents thought about her, although it made her sad to think that the parents she had loved and trusted for all her life, had turned on her.
"Some people have different priorities, Bobby. Money and appearances sometimes matter more to some people. We all know it shouldn't, but you can't change people unless they want to. And Ida's parent don't want to change their ideas. You never know, one day they might surprise you and realize how stupid they've been."
He paused for a moment to let his works find their mark before continuing. "I've seen it happen when grandchildren arrive on the scene, but I guess you'll have to wait and see. The best you can do for now is to hang in there and live life on your own terms with Ida. Make sure you have a happy marriage - that's what really matters." He offered an encouraging smile. "It wouldn't surprise me if many folks in town are disappointed in the way her parents are behaving. I've overheard a few conversations and you can rest assured, you're not on your own with this."
Jake also thought he was lucky to be spared this type of situation because his intended, Millie, was an orphan. That solved all problems with the in-laws and he couldn't think of anything else that would upset his coming marriage. He was more than a little relieved at the prospect of not having to deal with it when he thought of how miserable some thoughtless in-laws could make a marriage.
The deputy grinned. "Thanks, Sheriff. I guess I needed to hear someone say that."
"You're welcome." He paused. "Even if you can't join in the festivities, you can watch it all from here. Will Ida be bringing you a picnic basket? That girl is a good cook."
"Yep. She should be here soon, I hope. I'm getting a little hungry."
Jake couldn't control the burst of laughter. Although his deputy was a lanky fellow, he seemed to always be hungry.
~#~#~#~
Chapter Five
While she knew it was longer, it seemed as though only half an hour had gone by since she'd been injured, but the hands of the large clock in the train station spoke true. Four hours had passed and she thought there was an element of truth in what people said about time flying by, but for sure she wasn't having fun.
Placing one foot in front of the other and careful to maintain her balance because she felt light headed, she made her way to the clerk she'd spoken with earlier. She hoped he wouldn't be put off by her disheveled appearance and clothes that were less than clean. His name was Douglas she remembered as her head cleared.
"Hello again, Douglas." She tried to sound upbeat and friendly.
He looked up at her. "Miss Wyatt! It's good to see you're feeling better."
"Yes, I am. Thank you. My only regret is that I'll have a nasty mark on my face for the rest of my life."
He smiled at her. "Don't worry yourself about that. It's not very big and I doubt anyone will notice after it heals up."
"Thank you. That's kind of you to say. I'll be waiting anxiously for the day when your prediction comes true."
Douglas appeared uncomfortable for a moment, as though he wasn't sure how to answer, but Millie saved him from continuing because she wanted to be on her way as quickly as possible.
"I wonder if it might be possible to book passage on the next train to Hope Springs?" She hadn't intended it to sound like a question and couldn't help that it did.
"I hope you don't mind but I've gone ahead and made the arrangements for you, Miss Wyatt. I've been told your ticket will be honored for the next train." He glanced away from her for a second. "There's one small problem though."
She felt her confidence ebbing, having learned from experience that troubles were never small. Not for her, anyway. They were always large with lots of setbacks after. The dismay must have shown on her face, because he was quick to explain.
"The conductor placed your bags on the earlier train you were meant to be on, but don't fret. They will be held for you at the station in Hope Springs." His smile returned as he tried to put her at ease.
Everything she owned was in those two bags, and now they were separated from her and she winced inwardly at the thought of not having a clean change of clothes to wear when she arrived in Hope Springs. But there was nothing she could do about the situation except send up a quick prayer that her belongings would be returned to her intact.
"There's nothing to be done about it now, Douglas. We all make mistakes. I'll appreciate my things all the more when they catch up with me."
"Yes. " He paused for two seconds, glancing over her shoulder. "The Sheriff is here and I expect he would like to speak with you."
Millie turned, following his gaze, and noticed the lawman staring at her. She glanced back at the clerk. "Thank you for your kindness, Douglas and I'll definitely be on the next train."
"I'm just doing my job, ma'am." He smiled as the Sheriff took her arm and led her to a seat in the waiting room.
She told him everything she could remember and although she wasn't able to give a detailed description of the man who attacked her, the lawman seemed to feel confident they had the right man sitting in a jail cell. It appeared she was not the first woman in recent months who had been attacked. They always targeted young women who seemed vulnerable and inexperienced because they generally didn't scream and make a fuss, being too shocked to make a sound - or else they fainted. The sheriff thanked her for reacting quickly and alerting everyone to the attack, allowing them them to capture a man they'd been trying to find for several months. Ever positive, she thought to herself that at least something good had happened as a result of her misfortune.
~#~#~#~
Millie's arrival in Hope Springs was not as she'd hoped. There was no handsome Sheriff waiting at the station for her, eager to marry the beautiful young woman he was expecting. It seemed as if everything in her life was evading her attempts to control it. In the previous two days she had been unceremoniously released from the place she'd called home for ten years, and traveled to an unfamiliar city only to be stabbed, scarred, and forced to miss her train. Then she learned her luggage was sent ahead of her, and when she was finally able to take the next train, she had to sit in an uncomfortable seat for more than twenty-four hours to reach her destination. It hadn't been pleasant.
Now the man at the clerk's counter at the station in Hope Springs said her bags weren't there and it would be the next evening or the one after before the train returned. She felt her spirits plummet as the news about her luggage sank in. What was going on? Is this what life was supposed to be like? She'd thought things would be better when she finally made it out of the orphanage, but now it appeared she'd been wrong. Maybe someone had put a curse on her because everything that could possibly go wrong, did. It was enough to make a strong woman cry. But she wouldn't give in. She couldn't
.
Part of her mind was telling her God was playing a trick, toying with her to see what she'd do in difficult situations. However, according to what she'd learned from her mother and from her own experience, those kind of thoughts didn't make sense. They were brought on by doubt, which was something the Lord would never inspire. The only thing to do was to was to push them out of her head. So she took a deep breath and did so.
The one good thing about it all, was the fact she'd been fed a few small meals on the trip, otherwise she would have starved. It wasn't much, but those small meals gave her a little comfort, leaving her feeling as if the Lord was taking care of her. It was a pity about being attacked but she supposed there was a lesson somewhere in that experience as well.
As her mind refocused, she noticed that night was falling and the gathering darkness brought a new set of problems. She needed shelter for the night, perhaps longer which meant she had to find someone who would be kind enough to provide it for her, at least until her bags were returned. Where would she find such a person, especially in the dark? She was willing to do chores in return and hoped there was someone in this strange town who was willing to take a chance on her.
In another unfamiliar place, she wasn't sure which way to go, so decided to head in the direction that would most likely take her to the center of town. She couldn't be certain to find a welcoming soul there, but it seemed like the right thing to do in the face of no alternatives. Maybe she could find a Church and start off there. Then she remembered the wife of the innkeeper, Emma. She had an introduction to someone here. All was not lost - until she remembered the letter from Douglas was lost with her bags. And now she thought she was lost because it seemed as though she'd been walking for long enough to reach the center of town.
Turning a corner, she bumped into something, or rather, someone. A very sturdy someone. Confusion set in for a second as she realized she hadn't been paying attention to where she was walking. Then again, the other person should have been watching out as well. The collision wasn't entirely her fault.
Then it dawned on her. This was a man she'd bumped into. And he was tall. Her nose hit the upper part of his chest just below his throat and she glanced up to see he was wearing a white hat. Other than that, all she could distinguish from the shadow it cast and the dim light of the moon, was that he appeared to be as surprised as she was about the abrupt collision.
"Pardon me, ma'am." His voice was deep and rumbling.
He lifted his hat in greeting and for a moment she could see his handsomely sculpted face, the gleam in his deep sapphire eyes, topped off with the darkest hair she'd ever seen. Surely this was the answer to her troubles. He was polite as well as handsome and surely wouldn't mind directing her to someplace she could work to pay her way until her luggage arrived and her face healed a little.
Her heart skipped a beat, and a river of ice rushed down her spine, freezing her in her tracks. This man was exactly as she'd imagined her future husband would look and sound like. Then she glanced at his chest and saw the six-pointed-star shaped emblem on his shirt. It was a Sheriff's badge. This was her future husband and in her grubby, disheveled state with her stitched up face, she knew she couldn't let on she was his future wife.
~#~#~#~
Chapter Six
Sheriff Benson had walked past the saloon at an intentionally slow pace, though he could tell who was inside by the horses tethered out front. None of the few people taking a drink in there would be causing an uproar tonight, and to his mind, that was a good thing. He had other concerns to occupy his thoughts this evening.
The Dalton Brothers were most likely hiding somewhere outside of town, and the young woman who was to be his bride hadn't stepped off the train five hours earlier as she was supposed to. He'd been confused and upset at first that she wasn't there, but maybe it was for the best she'd been delayed. Perhaps it was better for her to be safely out of harm's way while the gang were lurking about. They were dangerous. Killers of the worst kind and he would be pleased to see them finally behind bars.
He'd passed the blacksmith's shop, hoping he was right to think this way, but an uneasiness troubled his gut. It was an instinct that came with the job of being a lawman. From his years of experience, he'd learned to trust his instincts. It wasn't because he was unreasonably suspicious, but his instincts always seemed to be correct, regardless of whether he did or didn't want them to be.
He came to the corner of the mercantile and was about to turn down the street to head for the train station. Perhaps there was news of his intended bride since the latest train had not long arrived. It was possible the station master might have news of her. Such were the thoughts running through his mind when something soft slammed into his chest. It was a woman, looking as confused and surprised as him.
Most of the townsfolk in Hope Springs wouldn't be out walking the streets at night - especially tonight after the celebrations with the Summer Festival. They had more sense, especially the women. There was only one kind of woman who made the streets home during the night hours and it was obvious this one thought business would be on the up after the Festival. He excused himself, tipped his hat, and saw the woman's expression rapidly change to one of shock. What was that about? Now his interest was piqued.
Although he didn't want to think it, he had to admit she was a beauty. Her long hair, similar to the color of the tawny mare his deputy rode, was tousled around her oval face. However, when she stepped back and glanced at the badge on his shirt, the alarm in her hazel eyes made him doubtful of her. Now his interest was more than piqued. There was no need for anyone to be afraid of him. Unless of course they had to reason to. She was obviously a stranger, unless she'd been in town for a while and he hadn't noticed her. Anyone who looked so beautiful though would not have passed his notice and he wondered if her appearance at this time was perhaps linked to the Dalton Brothers.
She brushed back her hair with a bandaged hand, and he saw the stitches on her cheek. The dress she wore was grubby and looked to have blood stains on it as well. It was also on the brink of falling apart, obviously having seen better days. Noticing all of this, he could only reach one conclusion and it never occurred to him he could be wrong. His instincts were always correct, right? But before he could speak she cut in.
"It was my fault, Sheriff, please accept my apologies. I should have been more careful and watching where I was going." Her voice was soft and lilting, the way he would expect an Angel to sound. But her eyes avoided his, and he couldn't help thinking she appeared to be as much like a Heavenly being as the Devil wearing a while suit.
"May I ask why you are wandering the streets at this hour?" He was careful to keep his words as neutral as he could while getting to the bottom of what was happening with the bedraggled mystery woman in front of him. There was no doubt about it. She certainly looked like a woman the Dalton boys would hang around with.
"I've been hoping to find someone to give me shelter for a few days. I am willing to repay the kind person in any way I can. I've lost -"
He grabbed her arm, cutting her off before she could finish. "I've heard enough." Tugging her arm and heading back toward the Sheriff's Office, he pulled her along with him. "You will be spending tonight in a jail cell. Prostitution is against the law."
It was a shame that such a lovely young woman with an angelic voice had obviously fallen so far as to think it was OK to wander the streets looking for somewhere to stay in exchange for the free use of her body. Jail was the best place for her.
~#~#~#~
How could he think she was that sort of woman? Why could he not understand she was simply lost in a place she didn't know and was seeking shelter? However, he was the Sheriff. It was part of his job to suspect people of committing crimes and lock them up. She knew her appearance was less than acceptable and it was now late at night. He'd jumped to the wrong conclusion but she knew in her heart he had reason to. If only she'd been able to explain her circumstances, but looking as she
did, he would never have believed her. If only she had her luggage with her she could have changed into clean clothes at least, and even with the bandages, she knew she would not have appeared to be a disreputable woman.
Millie sat on the hard bunk of the cell, unsure if she should try to convince him of the misfortunes she'd experienced during the last few days. But he seemed determined to arrest her no matter how much she might protest. It was obvious he'd made up his mind about her and wouldn't believe anything she said, no matter how much she tried to persuade him otherwise. Until she was cleaned up it was best if she remained silent.
"What's your name?" He sounded stern and unforgiving and while she didn't like it, could understand why and didn't blame him for it. After all, in his mind she was a prostitute, so how could she tell him who she really was and that she'd come all this way to marry him? Her bags were gone, and they contained proof of her identity. Without that, she knew for sure he'd never believe her. It was so unfair.
Adding her fear of rejection to all the thoughts going through her head, she decided it would be best not to tell him her real name. If he didn't know why she'd come to town, it was possible she might have time to figure out if her scarred face was of concern to him.
"Lizzie." It was the first name that came into her head and was glad to hear she didn't sound defiant. And more importantly to her way of thinking, she didn't lie. She simply told him the abbreviated version middle name.
"Do you have a last name, Lizzie?" She detected a bit of contempt in his voice and resented it.
"Of course I do. Doesn't everyone?" The sarcasm wasn't fully intended, but it came out anyway.
His heavy sigh betrayed the exasperation he must have felt. "Would you care to tell me what yours is?"
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