If they could get the blasted donkeys to move.
“Ladies, can I be of assistance?” Sheriff Jensen rode up to their wagon with three prisoners, their hands tied in front of them, trying to control their own horses.
He jumped from his horse, his lengthy stride reaching the donkeys in no time. He climbed up alongside Miss Nellie as Becky glanced askance at the outlaws. They were a rough-looking lot, but instead of trying to run off, they sat placidly while the sheriff yelled at the mules then snapped the reins. To her amazement, the animals moved forward.
“Well, Sheriff. It appears you know how to handle mules.” Miss Nellie practically purred at the man. “Are you the same way with the ladies?”
Sheriff Jensen grinned back and handed her the reins. “Perhaps.” He jumped from the slow-moving wagon. “Are you ladies riding with Miss Nellie or walking?”
“Why would they walk?” Miss Nellie asked as they continued down the main street at a slow pace.
“Wagons are heavy. Most times, travelers walk alongside the wagon to keep the weight down.”
Walk? They were expected to walk to Santa Fe?
“I’ll tell you what, Miss Nellie. One of the ladies can ride with you, and I’ll take this one,” he nodded toward Becky, “on my horse. Once we get to the fort, y’all can make whatever arrangements you want.”
“Well, thank you, Sheriff, that’s very thoughtful of you.” Miss Nellie cast an appreciative glance at the sheriff as his muscles rippled under his tight shirt when he lifted Miranda and plopped her onto the wagon seat.
“You’re next, young lady.” He grabbed Becky around the waist and tossed her onto his saddle. With a quick move, he followed behind her, unwrapped the reins from the saddle horn, and squeezed his knees to signal the horse to move.
He wrapped his warm arm around her waist. “Relax, Miss Davidson. I promise I won’t bite.” His deep chuckle in her ear did nothing to relax her. Her back felt as though it was on fire where it touched his chest. She glanced down at his dark hand where it rested on top of hers. The contrast between his caramel-colored flesh and her pale skin mesmerized her and sent tiny little prickles along her skin.
She’d never been this close to a black man before. He smelled good, felt strong, and made her feel protected for the first time since her parents died when she was seven years old.
“Tell me what makes a pretty young lady such as yourself end up in jail, forced to marry a stranger.” His warm breath on her neck caused tingles in her middle and gooseflesh to rise on her skin.
“I am not a criminal, Sheriff.”
“Never said you were. Just asked about the jail and mail-order bride business.” The trotting of the horse caused her body to come into constant contact with his, no matter how stiff she tried to keep herself.
“My parents died when I was seven—influenza. With no family to claim me, I was sent to an orphanage where I lived until I was put on the orphan train when I was ten.”
“Orphan train. Yes, I’ve heard about them. Good for some tykes, bad for others.”
She grinned, the memories warming her. “Mine was good. I was adopted by a fine family with one son. I loved my adopted family as much as my first family.”
When she grew silent thinking about Ma and Pa Davidson, he said, “What happened?”
“They were killed in a carriage accident when I was thirteen. My brother, Alex, wanted to go to California Territory, and I didn’t want to do that. He found me a job as a maid in a fine house, but after three years, that…came to an end.”
His body tensed at her hesitant words, and he growled, “Why?”
She shook her head. “No. Not anything you might be thinking. The family fell on hard times and had to let me go. That’s when I met Dr. Snodgrass.”
“Ah, the snake oil salesman. Yes, I’m familiar with the good doctor. He’s been all over these territories for years.”
“He was a bit rough, and when he drank, not the nicest of men, but he fed me and took care of me for four years.”
Again, she felt the tenseness in the sheriff’s arm. “What did you do for his protection?”
“I worked as his assistant. He never tried to do anything naughty with me, if that’s what you’re thinking. In fact, I had the feeling he would have preferred if I were a boy. If you get what I mean.” She twisted her body to look at him.
He seemed to swallow a chuckle. “Yes, I believe I know what you mean.”
* * *
Mace could not remember the last time he’d been so affected by a woman. Although, it was hard for him to think of this little imp as a woman. She was so fragile, it almost frightened him that she’d been on her own for so long.
Somehow, even with all that had happened to her, she’d kept her innocence. He shook his head at that remarkable feat. “So, if Dr. Snodgrass was doing the selling, how is it you were the one who ended up in jail?”
Miss Becky shrugged. “Dr. Snodgrass left town without telling me. I was tossed out of my hotel room, and when people complained to the marshal about the colored water Dr. Snodgrass had sold them instead of the miracle elixir he claimed it to be, Marshal Jones arrested me. That’s where I met Miranda, Adelaide, and Mindy.”
“The other mail-order brides?’
She nodded, the curls alongside her head bobbing in rhythm with the horse.
He smiled down at her, feeling so much older than the ten years that separated them. “I have a feeling he was merely trying to protect you from the town’s wrath.”
She regarded him wide-eyed. “Do you think so?”
Lord, her guileless expression tore him up. He would have to add Miss Becky’s name to his nightly prayers and ask the good Lord to provide her with a good husband.
Husband.
The word rocked him. He would keep an eye on her once they arrived in Santa Fe and make sure whoever she hooked up with was a good man. She deserved so much for what she’d gone through in her short life. A good man. An honorable man. A man who would cherish her and take care of her for the rest of her life.
A man like me.
He shoved that ridiculous notion to the back of his mind and placed it securely under lock and key. He was accepted by the people of Santa Fe because he kept their town, and the county, free of crime. How they would turn on him should he marry a white woman. “Yes, I believe Marshal Jones had only your best intentions in mind by putting you in jail and then arranging for the four of you to become mail-order brides.”
There was one question she hadn’t answered, however. “Just how does Miss Nellie fit in with your group? You didn’t mention her being in jail with you.”
Her lovely face flushed a bright red. She chewed her lip and then said, “Oh. She, um, was, ah…” She stopped and swallowed, glancing away. “She’s a lovely woman and all, but she is, or I guess she was, a…”
Once more she forced him to hide his laughter. “Prostitute?”
Miss Becky nodded furiously. “Yes.” After seeming to recover her dignity a bit, she added, “Her place of business burned down so Marshal Jones asked her to chaperone us on the trip and find us husbands when we get to Santa Fe.”
He groaned. A former brothel owner was going to pick this little lady’s husband. Yes, prayers and constant watching out for Miss Becky were on his list of tasks.
The noise and smell of animals, wagons, and travelers gathered outside of Fort Dodge reached them before he even got a good look at the fort. He’d passed through this way once before and had a great deal of respect for how the fort was run. “I’m going to leave you with Miss Nellie and Miss Miranda while I escort my prisoners to the stockade for the night.”
“Are they traveling with you to Santa Fe?”
He threw his leg over the saddle and landed on the ground with ease. He reached up for Becky and pulled her from the horse. “Yes, the prisoners are going all the way to Santa Fe with me on the wagon train. I’m borrowing a wagon with bars from the fort to haul them back.”
“I g
uess that would be easier than trying to bring them back by yourself.” She shook out her skirts, a small cloud of dirt surrounding them. “Sorry.” She grinned.
“I’ve escorted as many as four prisoners at once before, but since there was a wagon train going anyway, I guess I just got a little lazy.”
Mace fought the urge to brush back the curls from Miss Becky’s forehead as she stared up at him. He had no right touching her, or thinking about touching her, and she had no right to look at him that way. It had been hard enough with her riding right in front of him, her lovely bottom pressed up against the worse spot she could be pressed up against.
It appeared when he returned to Santa Fe it would be best if he found one of his Mexican women and paid her a visit. That might get those dangerous thoughts out of his mind. “Well, Miss Becky, I’ll leave you to help Miss Nellie get settled.” He gave her a warm smile.
She backed up, her face flushed. “Oh, yes. Of course. Thank you so much for the ride.” She nodded and turned toward her wagon, which was headed in the direction of the check-in station the wagon train master had set up.
Once back on his horse, he waved at the three prisoners, who followed him to the main building. He jumped down and wrapped the reins around the hitching post in front of the stockade. One by one he pulled the prisoners off their horses. “Inside.”
Mace followed behind the men into the dim interior. A soldier jumped up from behind a battered desk. “Sir, how can I help you?”
The lad was no more than seventeen and obviously freshly enlisted in the military. “Sheriff Mace Jensen here to see the Duty Officer.”
“Yes, sir. Immediately, sir.” The boy stiffened and gave Mace a salute he wasn’t sure he should return. The soldier turned sharply on his heels and practically marched from the room. Mace walked to the back of the room where he could watch his prisoners and leaned his shoulder against the wall.
Spending time with Miss Becky had put all sorts of thoughts into his mind that he’d been sitting on for a while. He was thirty years old. He had a good job, a fine reputation as an honest lawman, and money in the bank. It was time to take a wife and start a family. Give to his children all the things he’d been denied. Most of all, a decent education—although he could read, write, and do figuring. He’d oftentimes dreamed of having a child of his go to college.
Where would he find a woman to marry? There was a small community of ex-slaves in Indian Territory. He should probably start his search there. Somehow, going to a particular town with the sole purpose of finding a woman to marry seemed cold. He wanted a wife he loved and who loved him back. Someone he would court over time, do all the little things a man did for a woman he thought was special. Someone who stood out from other women.
Someone like Miss Becky.
* * *
Becky had been almost sorry to see their ride from Dodge City to Fort Dodge come to an end. The brilliant white smile against dark skin Sheriff Jensen had left her with made her breath hitch.
In her travels, she rarely had time for a lengthy conversation with anyone. Dr. Snodgrass had frowned upon her making friends with the people they met in the various towns they’d visited.
He, on the other hand, would find his way to the local saloon each night and stumble back to their wagon to snore loudly beneath it until she had the coffee brewing the next morning.
It had been a lonely life for her but better than what she’d had before she took up with Dr. Snodgrass. At least he kept her fed and clothed. Every once in a while, he would give her coins to go to the local bathhouse and have a bath, or a few pennies to buy a new hair ribbon or stockings.
Since men mostly used the bath services, she had to wait until the bathhouse was ready to close for the night and then she got her bath. The water was always lukewarm by then and dirty from the other bathers, but it was better than a river bath.
She’d been around plenty of men in her life, attractive men. Men who had been attracted to her but were reluctant to approach her with Dr. Snodgrass always looking on.
Something about Sheriff Mace Jensen stirred her blood as no other man had. Aside from his good looks, he was kind and thoughtful. Besides her pa and brother, Alex, no other man had really cared about her.
She’d always known Dr. Snodgrass would only keep her while she was useful. It seemed once it looked like he was headed to jail, he’d run off and left her to face the consequences. Being with a man who treated her honorably was quite nice, actually.
“There you are.” Miss Nellie groaned as she stepped down from the wagon seat. “I thought you’d run off with that good-looking sheriff.”
Becky was afraid all her thoughts about Sheriff Jensen were written plainly on her face for Miss Nellie to see. She flushed a bright red and tried to cover up her unease by dusting off her dress again. Miss Nellie’s soft laughter told her she had, indeed, seen the look on her face.
“Don’t you worry none, little bird. Your secret is safe with me.” All business now, she strode up to the desk where the travelers were checking in. Miranda and Becky joined her.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I am Easton Drover, wagon train master. Y’all report to me. I make the rules, and I enforce the rules. You break ’em, and you’re left alongside the road.”
Miss Nellie’s raised eyebrows were her only comment as the man continued. “I don’t mind telling you I ain’t happy having three single women on my wagon train. I expect y’all to behave yourselves, stay away from the husbands, and don’t go peddling your wares here to the single men, either.”
Miss Nellie’s usual composure cracked as she took in a deep breath, her high-necked dress straining at the seams. She stabbed Mr. Drover’s chest with her finger, and leaned in close to his face. “I will have you know that we are respectable ladies. I am traveling with these fine women as their chaperone. I will be finding husbands for them in Santa Fe. I can assure you that we have absolutely no interest in anyone’s husband, as they are their poor wives’ burdens to bear.
“Furthermore, I expect you to provide safety and protection for me and my young ladies, which I know Marshal Jones has paid you for.”
Mr. Drover edged back at Miss Nellie’s tirade. When she paused, whether to take a breath or because she was finished, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I apologize, ma’am. I had no call to insinuate you are here for any other purpose than to provide these charming ladies with husbands in Santa Fe.”
“Yes, well, then.” Miss Nellie stood straight and tugged on the cuffs of her long-sleeved, very prim and proper dress. She did truly look like a respectable matron. And quite pretty. Especially with her temper up.
“Where shall we move our wagon?”
“I’m assigning you spot number twenty-seven. Just go alongside the other wagons, and pull yours into that slot.”
“Thank you, Mr. Drover.” Her chin raised with dignity, she turned and left.
The three of them climbed up onto the wagon seat and moved down the row of vehicles. The mules were much more cooperative than they’d been that morning. Miss Nellie did a fine job of steering the wagon into their designated space.
They had no sooner climbed back down again when two little girls came flying past them, braids and hair ribbons streaming behind, laughing their little heads off. A woman came barreling after them. “Lizzie!”
Miss Nellie turned to them. “Isn’t that Adelaide?” She looked again at her retreating back and shook her head. “That poor woman. What did she get herself into?”
3
Mace left the stockade after locking his prisoners away. He strolled over to the check-in table where the marshal had told him Easton Drover would be. Since he was transporting criminals, he had to notify the wagon master.
“Afternoon, sir. I’ve just left my three prisoners in the stockade as I believe Marshal Jones advised you.”
Drover sat back and regarded him. “So, you’re the famous Santa Fe sheriff who always gets his man.”
“I don’t know
about famous, but I haven’t lost an outlaw yet. And I don’t intend to.”
“I can’t say I’m excited to have three prisoners on my wagon train, but I’m happy to have you with us. We can always use an extra pair of strong hands.” He shifted a wad of tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. “We have a wagon here with three ladies in it. I’d be much obliged if you kept an eye on them. They don’t look like the type to be hauling a wagon out of mud or strapping down canvases if we run into foul weather.”
“I know who you mean. I escorted them here from Dodge City. Going to Santa Fe to find husbands.” Once again, the sharp jab to his stomach reminded him that sweet Miss Becky would be putting her life into the hands of a stranger. He shook his head to keep his thoughts from wandering where they shouldn’t go. He would do his part by making sure whoever she married up with was a decent man.
“Probably a good idea to get them out of Dodge City. The marshal didn’t tell me too much, but from what he said, they were all about to be tossed into the streets. You know what happens to women like that in Dodge City,” Drover said.
“I do. And I will make sure once they reach my town that they all marry up with the right sort of men.”
Drover nodded. “We’re leaving at first light tomorrow. How will your prisoners travel?”
“I have the use of a very well-secured military wagon that I’ll be driving. Your travelers have nothing to worry about.”
Drover stood and extended his hand. “Glad to have you, Sheriff.”
“Thanks.” Mace turned and left the wagon master to stroll over to Miss Nellie’s wagon and see how they were getting on. He silenced the voice inside that chastised him for getting too involved with the women. Both Marshal Jones and Easton Drover had asked him to keep an eye on the ladies. He was just doing his duty.
It appeared he arrived just in time. They were settled in their allotted space, and Miss Becky and Miss Miranda were both pulling on the mules, trying to move them from the wagon to the space set aside for the animals. As he approached, Miss Becky yanked hard at the animal, her feet sliding out from under her in the mud. She landed flat on her backside.
Prisoners of Love Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 23