by Heather Gray
The door banged open against the wall, and Roy shuffled in, his hat in his hands and an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry 'bout that, Ranger.”
“The door or for being late?” Daniel took in the man's bedraggled appearance and figured he'd spent a soggy night in the barn. No doubt he and Mrs. Eckers differed on the manner in which he should procure money.
Roy lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Both, I reckon.”
Daniel couldn't resist smiling. “We'll just forget about it then.”
Scratching the balding spot on the top of his head, Roy squinted. “I ain't got you figured out yet, Ranger.”
He'd heard that one before. “Well, when you do, you can let me know what you decide. Until then, how about grabbing a broom and—”
Roy recoiled as though he'd been snake bit. “You mean you want me to sweep?”
“What's wrong with sweeping?”
“That's woman's work!”
Daniel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the side of his hand. “Not today it isn't. You need a job. I've got one to offer you.” He walked across the dusty floor and snatched the broom from the corner. Extending it, he waited patiently for Roy to take it. “Well?”
Roy eyed the broom and the door. “You'll pay a fair wage?”
“A dollar a day.”
His eyes lit up. “Well, that's more than fair, I'd say.” Roy snatched the broom and hurried over to the back of the room, beginning to sweep with long, gutsy strokes.
Daniel continued to grin as he turned back to the desk. Now, it was time for him to get to work, and he doubted it was going to be pleasant…for anyone in Strawberry Junction.
****
“Mama, did you know we got a new sheriff in town?” Sam stuck his fork in a piece of chicken, scooting it around his plate.
That must have been the man with the star. It hadn’t looked like an ordinary sheriff’s badge, but he’d definitely been a lawman. Anna’s blood chilled at the thought. “Did you hear that at school?”
“Yes’m,” Beth chimed in. “Becky said Mrs. Baker said he came riding into town last night and that he’s going to be staying at the boarding house for a while.”
“And he's not married.” Sam chewed a mouthful of mashed potatoes while Anna choked on a swallow of coffee.
“What? What does that have to do with anything?” Already the blood flowed to her face, heating her cheeks.
One thin shoulder lifting in a shrug, Sam took particular interest in his biscuit. “Mrs. Baker said he might be looking for a wife while he’s here. She said men need wives, and women need husbands.”
Beth bobbed her head in agreement. “That’s what she said, Mama, and she also said her daughter was gonna be at church Sunday.” She brushed the crumbs off of her mouth with the back of her hand before wrinkling her nose. “Mrs. Baker wants the new sheriff to court her daughter.”
“But she said he was looking at you.” Sam studied her with eyes all-too-knowing for a boy his age.
Anna shoved her chair back so abruptly, wood scraped on wood in a loud screech of protest. Pushing herself to her feet, she carried her barely empty plate to the rough-hewn corner table. “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Now, let’s finish up.”
Sam’s fork clinked against the tin plate several times, drawing Anna’s gaze to his face. He looked deep in thought, as though he were trying to work up the nerve to say something else.
Anna’s stomach knotted. Sam picked up on things any ordinary eight-year-old probably wouldn’t. Maybe it was because of Zach’s death, but either way, her son didn’t miss much, which was why his next words shouldn’t have surprised her.
“What if he wanted to court you, Mama?”
She was surprised anyway. “Me?” Her hands fisted in her skirts. “That’s ridiculous. Now finish your dinner.”
Sam poked at another piece of chicken. “Why’s it ridiculous? You’re pretty, and you ain’t too old to court.”
Her temples beginning to throb, Anna rounded the table and scooted Beth closer to her plate. “We don’t need to have this discussion, Sam. There won’t be any courting here.”
Beth’s lower lip wobbled. “You think you’ll ever court again, Mama?”
Kneeling in between her children, Anna wrapped her son in a hug with one arm and Beth with the other. “I don’t know. To be honest, it’s not really something I think about. But I’ll tell you what I do think about—” When both sets of eyes were trained on her face, she continued, “The two of you. You’re what matters most to me in this world, and my greatest desire is to raise you both to be strong, kind, and loving adults. If I do that, then I’ll know I’ve lived a good life. Now, finish your dinner.”
Anna straightened and summoned a smile. “And once your homework is done, I'll read you a story.” She tried to inject excitement into her voice, and her efforts were rewarded with matching smiles from her children.
Feeling a small measure of relief, she got to her feet. Leaving her kids at the table, she hurried into her bedroom, closed the door, and tried to cry quietly.
There was no way to explain to her children the depth of pain she endured at even the thought of courting. She couldn’t imagine loving another man the way she’d loved Zach—the way she still loved him.
****
“Ranger Cochran! Ranger Cochran!” Sweating profusely, the rotund mayor of Strawberry Junction pushed his way into the sheriff's office, using a handkerchief to mop his forehead. “We got trouble.”
Daniel was on his feet and around the desk before the mayor could say anything else. “What is it?”
“There's a rumor going about town that one of the Barnaby boys done robbed a bank in Porter Hills, and he's headed this way loaded for bear. He's a mean one, Ranger. Left town a year or so back, said he was going to Gold Country to find his fortune.”
As the man continued to ramble, Daniel secured his holster and settled his hat atop his head. Tuning out the sound of the mayor's concern, he closed his eyes and said a quick prayer.
“Ranger?” Roy danced nervously from foot to foot. “You...uh...need someone to come with you...uh...deputy-like?”
Daniel placed a hand on the man's shoulder before lifting his coat free from the hook next to the door. “I appreciate it, Roy, but I think I'd better assess the situation first. Lead the way, Mayor.”
“You got awful quiet back there, Ranger. Are you nervous?” The shakiness of the mayor's voice told of his own anxiety.
Daniel smiled. “Well, I always have a healthy dose of wariness when I confront anyone with a loaded gun, but remembering that I'm not the one in control always helps to calm my nerves.”
Mayor Rawlins trotted along beside him. “Not the one in control? What do you mean you're not the one in control?” The man's voice had risen by an octave. “If you're not, who is? I was assured you were the perfect man for this job. Did the Rangers make a mistake in sending you?”
Spurs clinking, Daniel came to a stop and faced the man, looking him square in the eye as his father had taught him. “I didn't mean to scare you, Mayor. I only meant that God's in control.”
Rawlins blinked once, twice, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. Well, good grief. Why didn't you just say so? I know that, but right now, we need a man with a gun.” As the words slipped past his fleshy lips, a shot rang out.
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