SHERIFF: His Town. His Laws. His Justice.

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Charlie started it!" the smaller of the two young men exclaimed. "He said some things."

  "Start walkin! And I mean both of you!"

  "But, Sheriff—"

  "Jeb, if you and Charlie don't start walkin' to my jailhouse by the time I finish talkin' it'll be two nights, not just one, and I won't have supper brought in."

  "Dagnabbit, Charlie," Jeb muttered as he shuffled his feet forward. "See what you've done?"

  "Ain't my fault," Charlie retorted. "You could've walked away."

  Cooper knew it was just high spirits. Nature demanded they grow into men and fighting was part of the process, but that didn't mean he could let it lie. He considered Brownsville his town. He cared about its folk, and it was his responsibility to keep law and order.

  "Sheriff?"

  "Yeah, Jeb?"

  "Will you let ma know? She'll worry."

  "You're such a baby," Charlie quipped. "Worried about your ma."

  "Charlie Johnson! Are you sayin' you don't care about your mother?" Cooper asked brusquely, slapping him on the back of his head.

  "OW! What'd ya do that for?"

  "She's a good woman. You should be ashamed sayin' somethin' like that. You want me tellin' her you don't give two hoots?"

  "NO! I do. A lot."

  "Then watch your mouth boy. You speak about your mother with respect. You don't, you'll have me to answer to."

  "Yes, sir."

  Cooper nodded his head. Charlie had sounded deferential and Cooper believed he'd been sincere.

  "We're really sorry, Sheriff," Jeb said earnestly as they walked inside the sheriff's office. "It won't happen again."

  "Get on through that door to the cells," Cooper ordered, "and you'd best remember if you're foolish enough to start brawlin' again, you'll be in the cages for a week. What were you fightin' about?"

  "Molly Harris," Jeb replied as Cooper bustled them into the same cell.

  "What about Molly Harris?"

  "Charlie said something I didn't like."

  "Defendin' a woman's honor," Cooper chuckled. "There's nothin' more likely to get you into trouble than that. What'd you say, Charlie?"

  "Nothin'."

  "I'll ask you again and you'd best answer. What'd you say?"

  "I, uh, I said I'd like to, uh…"

  "Go on."

  "Rub my face in her titties. She's got real big ones."

  "Did you say that out loud?"

  "Not too loud."

  "You shouldn't have said it at all," Jeb barked angrily. "She's a nice girl and you can't talk about her that way."

  "That's just cos you're sweet on her," Charlie shot back.

  "I reckon Jeb's right," Cooper declared. "We all like the ladies, but you've gotta learn when you can speak your mind, and when to keep your mouth shut. If Molly's pa got wind of you sayin' somethin' like that he'd whip your ass, and he'd be right to do it."

  "Yes, Sheriff."

  "You two make peace while you're in there. I have no problem keepin' you as long as it takes."

  Studying their faces he knew they wouldn't give him any trouble, but as he returned to his office a frown crossed his brow. He was worried about Charlie. The lad was showing a wild streak, and he was growing into a brawny man. Pretty soon he'd be a force to be reckoned with. His rebellious side needed to be nipped in the bud, and Cooper made a mental note to speak to his father. Zeke Johnson was one of the most successful ranchers in the area, and he had four strapping boys, all of them respectful and hard working. Charlie was the youngest, and Cooper was confident Zeke could rein his son in.

  He glanced up at the clock on the wall. The stagecoach should be arriving soon, and he always made sure he was there when the passengers stepped out. Not only did he like to welcome those returning, he made it a point to size up any new arrivals. He kept up to date with the wanted notices, though he'd been known to offer second chances to those he believed deserving. He'd once been a hired gun with the reputation of being one of the fastest and sharpest shooters in the West. It had even been rumored he was related to the famous Dalton gang, though if he was, he had no sure knowledge of it, but with the guidance of a strong-minded lawman he had turned his life around. It was why he'd chosen to become a sheriff. Inspired by his mentor he now used his God-given talents for good.

  Heading out of his office he wandered down Main Street to the stagecoach depot. It was a one room cabin manned three hours a day by Tim Hardy, who also owned the livery stable. Everyone knew to drop off their mail or packages between 1 and 4 p.m. The coaches generally arrived during those three hours.

  "Morning, Sheriff."

  "Mornin', Hannah," he said, smiling at one of the many young ladies who graced the town.

  "Off to meet the stagecoach?"

  "Yep."

  She gazed at him longingly, trying to keep her eyes off his bare chest. He wore only his trousers and boots when it was hot. Early on it had caused a stir, but the town was now used to their shirtless sheriff, and on blistering summer days it wasn't uncommon to see a few other men follow his example.

  "Sure is warm today," she murmured. "Maybe I should stop by the general store and get some lemonade. Would you care for any?"

  Cooper knew she had a crush on him and was hoping he'd accept her offer, but Cooper had no intention of sharing his time with her or any other female. The last thing he wanted or needed was the complication of a woman in his life. He was already married to his job.

  "I'll be seein' you," he said politely, touching his hat. "My best to your folks."

  "Um, Sheriff."

  "Yes, Hannah."

  "Maybe you could stop by for a visit one of these days."

  "If I have a reason to."

  "Oh, but, uh—"

  "Excuse me, Hannah, there's the coach. You have a nice day."

  As he walked briskly forward he could feel her eyes on his back. He didn't like disappointing anyone, but Hannah had already known what he'd say. Everyone was aware of his feelings about stepping out with a lady on his arm, but he had to admire her pluck.

  The passengers were climbing out of the carriage, and he hurried forward to greet Pearl Beasley. She'd been away for a month visiting relatives.

  "Hello, Sheriff. My, oh, my, it's nice to be home."

  "How's your family?"

  "Very well, but Silas, that's my older brother, he's limping, poor man. Took a tumble from his fresh young filly on a cattle run, but he'll be fine. Where is that son of mine?"

  "I think that's him runnin' down the street."

  "It sure is. Bye, Sheriff."

  "Bye, Pearl."

  As they'd been speaking he'd caught sight of the three remaining passengers. Two were local men who'd been gold-mining, but the woman waiting for the driver to get her bag was a stranger. A very attractive stranger.

  "Welcome to Brownsville," he said warmly, stepping up to meet her. "I'm the Sheriff. My name's Cooper Dalton, but most folks just call me Sheriff."

  She was staring up at the husky driver who now had her luggage, but as she turned around, Cooper felt a strange sensation ripple through his body. Not unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

  "Nice to meet you, Sheriff," Violet replied, and though shocked to see his naked torso, she managed to maintain her composure. "My name is Rose Hamilton."

  "Here you go ma'am," the driver said, placing the bag next to her. "It's been real nice havin' you."

  "That's very kind of you, and thank you for all your help along the way."

  "Like I said, pleasure was all mine. I'm gonna take the horses down to the livery then head on over to the saloon. If you feel like a cool drink you're welcome to join me. Howdy, Sheriff."

  "Howdy, Duke."

  "I hope I'll be seein' you," the driver continued, his eyes still focused on the beautiful young woman.

  "Possibly," Violet answered, though now completely distracted by the rippling muscles of the half-naked man standing in front of her.

  "Bye Sheriff."

  "Bye
, Duke, watch where you're drivin'," Cooper replied with a wink, then reaching down he picked up her bag. "Let me carry this for you. Do you have a place to stay or are you visitin' relatives?"

  "I'm here because I want to live in a nice quiet town," she replied, trying to will away the hot blush crossing her face. "I have no idea where I'll be laying my head."

  "I'll take you over to Mrs. Elwood's boarding house. She keeps things orderly and I can attest to her cookin'."

  "That sounds perfect."

  "How did you hear about Brownsville? It's kinda off the beaten path."

  "I told the clerk at the stagecoach office in San Francisco I wanted to go to the last stop on the line."

  "You're a brave woman travelin' so far by yourself. Did you live in the city?"

  "A neighborhood on the outskirts. I'm a widow, and if it's all the same to you, Sheriff, I'd rather not talk about it. I'm trying to put all that sadness behind me."

  "I'm sorry, and I can sure understand why you'd want to. Are you're plannin' to make Brownsville your new home?"

  "From what I can see it's appealing. I never was a city girl, but my husband…" she said sadly, letting her voice trail off.

  "Don't you worry," Cooper said quickly. "This is a friendly town and the folks will welcome you. Why don't you stop by the office when you're settled? I'll make us some coffee. I can tell you where things are, and fill you in on some of the local characters. We even have a new restaurant. It opened about a year ago and the food's real tasty."

  "Thank you. I'd like that."

  "The boardin' house is just down here," he said as they turned a corner. "It's close to Main Street, but far enough away to be quiet."

  As they continued to the white two-story house halfway down the block, Cooper wasn't just taken by the young woman's beauty and manner, he was intrigued. She was wearing a hat, but her copper-colored hair was loose around her shoulders, and her bright green eyes sparkled like the stars in the night sky. Her outfit was fetching, and though he knew little about women's clothing it looked expensive. She claimed she'd never been a city girl, but everything about her suggested just the opposite.

  "Here we are," he declared, opening the gate and walking up the short path. "Mrs. Elwood is a nice lady, but she won't stand for any nonsense."

  "I'm happy to hear that," she said as Cooper opened the door for her. "Like I said, I'm looking for quiet."

  "Mrs. Elwood?" he called, stepping inside. "Are you home?"

  "Right here, Sheriff," she replied, appearing from a nearby doorway. "Who is this you've brought with you?"

  "Rose Hamilton, just arrived from San Francisco," Cooper declared. "She's thinkin' about makin' Brownsville her new home."

  "Delighted. I'm sure you'll brighten things up around here."

  "How kind of you to say so," Violet said, smiling back at her.

  "I have the perfect room for you. It's my best. The lady who was there left a week ago. Top of the stairs at the end of the passage and no rooms on either side. It's forty cents a night. Is that acceptable?"

  "I think I can manage that."

  "How long will you be staying?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "Not to worry. You're welcome here for as long as you wish."

  "I'll carry up your bag," Cooper offered, "then I need to get back to check on those boys."

  "I heard all about that," Mrs. Elwood said, shaking her head as she started up the stairs. "I'm glad you've taken them in hand, Sheriff. That Johnson lad needs reining in."

  "I agree."

  "May I ask what happened, Sheriff?" Violet asked.

  "Two young men fightin' in the street over a woman's honor. They're sittin' in a cell stewin' and they'll stay `overnight."

  "Gosh. You're tough."

  "If you wanna keep a town safe for its citizens it's the only way to be."

  "Here's the room," Mrs. Elwood announced. "I hope it's to your liking."

  "I'll be sayin' goodbye," Cooper said, setting her bag inside the door. "Stop by the office when you're ready. I'm always around."

  "Thank you for everything, Sheriff," she said softly. "You're such a gentleman."

  As her green eyes sparkled up at him, Cooper felt it again. The strange sensation moving through his body, and he suddenly had a startling compulsion to sweep her into his arms. But he felt something else as well. The need to watch out for her. He was sensing a vulnerability that belied her confidence and poise.

  "My pleasure," he managed, then turning sharply he strode back to the stairs.

  "Looks like you've got yourself a fan," Mrs. Elwood said quietly. "The sheriff's taken with you."

  "I think he was just being kindly, but Mrs. Elwood, he was, uh, not wearing a shirt."

  "Please, call me Ruby. No need to stand on ceremony, and no, he doesn't when it's overly warm. I'm sure you find it shocking, we all did when he arrived, but we barely notice it anymore, and he's not unattractive."

  "When I met him I didn't know where to look," Violet giggled, "and you're right, he's very well-built."

  "The sheriff is a bit of a rogue. He does things his way, but he's the best sheriff this town has ever had, shirt or no shirt!"

  "I can't imagine ever getting accustomed to seeing him that way," Violet said, shaking her head, "but it's certainly made my arrival memorable."

  "It's not often we have lovely young ladies arrive here by themselves, and when you stepped out of that stagecoach, I'm sure it was a memorable moment for the sheriff as well."

  "I suppose we surprised each other."

  "I think you did. Now about the house. I lock the front door at nine-o'clock. If you think you'll be later just tell me. I serve dinner at six o'clock. There is one thing I should mention, though I'm sure it's not necessary with you, but I make it a point to warn all new guests."

  "You need to warn me?"

  "As I said, I'm sure I don't need to, but you were right when you called the sheriff tough, and as I said, he also has his own way of dealing with lawbreakers. He's a fine man, the finest, and he's fair, but he doesn't let anyone sin and walk away unpunished."

  "I'm not sure I understand."

  "Cooper is the sheriff and he takes his job very seriously. This is his town, and he has his own set of laws and his own justice."

  "I don't plan on robbing the bank," Violet joked, "but what do you mean, his own justice?"

  "Like what he's done with those two boys. I don't think it's against the law to fight in the street, but it's against his law, and he's got those two young men behind bars for the night. And Rose," she said dramatically, lowering her voice, "he's been known to spank a woman."

  "What? You're not serious!"

  "I most certainly am. He spanked one of the saloon girls for stealing from a customer."

  "I can't believe it."

  "But I'm sure it's not something you'll have to worry about. I'll leave you to your unpacking, and if you need anything just let me know."

  "Thank you. I know I'll be very happy here."

  "You're welcome. It's a pleasure to have you."

  As Ruby left, closing the door behind her, Violet took stock of what she'd just heard.

  He's a fine man, the finest, and he's fair, but he doesn't let anyone sin and walk away unpunished.

  She found Cooper's free spirit captivating. They were so much alike. He led his life as he saw fit, just as she did, and the sight of his naked chest and muscled arms had made her weak at the knees.

  But Ruby's comment about the saloon girl was bringing a mischievous smile to her lips.

  "If I do something wrong, will you spank me Mr. Lawman? I wonder if I could talk my way out of it, but why would I want to? Heavens! I'd love to find myself over your knee. This town has surprised me already and I've only been here five minutes. I wonder what else it has in store."

  CHAPTER TWO

  Detective Frank Connelly was seething. Violet Parker had beaten them again. She was the smartest, wiliest, slipperiest swindler, man or woman, he had
ever run across.

  "She's gone, Frank. She could be anywhere by now," Sergeant Doyle declared. "She gave away almost everything she had. Her neighbors were crying they were so upset that she'd left. Everyone loves her."

  "She's a criminal, dammit, not an angel. She needs to be found!"

  "She's an angel to the people she's helped, and if you ever did manage to catch her and locked her up, you'd have a mob on your hands."

  "You mark my words, I am gonna catch her. Just a matter of finding out where she's run off to."

  "Maybe she gave away her belongings as a smoke screen and she's still here. I wouldn't put it past her."

  "My bones are telling me she's left the city. We need to think about this. We know she cleared out her lodgings, which means she was on her way out of town. Why did she visit that rich neighborhood before leaving?"

  "You told me she operates in the wealthier neighborhoods. She must have decided to pull one last job."

  "Or maybe that last swindle was a spur of the minute thing. Maybe she wanted to leave from the ritzy part of town."

  "Excuse me, Sergeant Doyle," a constable said, knocking on the door and poking his head around.

  "Yes, what is it?"

  "I think Violet Parker may have—"

  "Violet Parker!" Frank exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Tell me."

  "There's a sales clerk from a dress shop at the front desk. She said a woman came into her store claiming to be married to Harold O'Connor, the man who makes O'Connor's Tonic."

  "Get to the point, constable!"

  "This woman asked the sales clerk to send the bill for the dress she bought to the Palace Hotel because that's where she was staying with her husband. After she left, the sales clerk started to get worried so she went over there."

  "And there was no Harold O'Connor registered," Frank muttered. "What's the sales clerk's name?"

  "Mildred Thomas."

  "Bring her in right away!"

  "Maybe this will be a break," Patrick suggested. "At least we'll know what she's wearing."

  "Sir, this is Mrs. Thomas," the constable declared, walking in with the woman following.

  "Hello," she said nervously. "I'm so worried. I'm sure I'll lose my job. At the very least I'll have to pay for the missing garments. How could I have been so foolish?"