"Sheriff, I've been waitin' for you."
"Shouldn't you be back at your ranch? What's the problem?"
"I had a long talk with pa when I got home, and, uh, the thing is, Sheriff, I wanna be a lawman. Can I be your deputy? I figured you might need one since Jerry left."
"It's not quite so easy, Charlie. I can't just put a badge on your shirt. There's a lot to learn."
"I'm sure there is, but how do I start? My pa has given his blessin'. He and ma both. They said they'd be real proud."
"What brought this on?"
"I wanna be the guy that locks people up, not the one bein' locked up."
"I reckon that's as good a reason as any," Cooper chuckled, "but you need to learn how to be a peacemaker, not a fighter. You think you can do that?"
"Sure I can. You just need to show me how."
"You're a strong boy, Charlie, and I think bein' a lawman would suit you. If you can control your temper and do what I say you should be just fine. Are you busy right now?"
"No. Can I do somethin' for you?"
"I have to ride out and see if there are any rustlers in the area. While I'm gone you keep your eyes and ears open and write down anything I should know about. But remember, you're not a deputy yet, and you can't be bossin' people around!"
"Yes, sir, Sheriff. Oh, man, I'm so excited. Wait'll pa hears this."
"You can also make up the cots you and Jeb slept in. Sweep the place and get the dust off my desk and the table. Around one-o'clock go out back and clean up River's corral."
"Sure will. Thanks again. Can I put Hazel in there? She's saddled and tied up at the hitchin' post outside your office."
"No problem. Toss her some hay. You'll find it in the barn. Here's the key to the office. Don't lose it! If you leave be sure and lock up and leave it under the red rock out back."
"Okay, Sheriff. I won't let you down."
As Cooper watched Charlie trot down the street, he shook his head and put his hands on his hips. The morning had been full of surprises, and wearing a happy grin he walked into Al's Mercantile.
"Hey, Sheriff. You just get some good news?"
"Yeah, I reckon I did. Charlie Johnson wants to be my deputy."
"That's one for the books! That boy could've gone either way. What can I get you, Sheriff?"
"I need to talk you about Rose Hamilton."
"What a sweet girl she is. I hope she stays a while."
"Yep, me too. Thing is, Al, she's got a bad guy chasin' her down."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I figured somethin' was up. A pretty girl like that doesn't travel all this way by herself without good reason."
"If anyone asks, tell them you haven't seen a woman fittin' her description, then let me know who was doin' the askin'."
"Be happy to."
"And, uh…"
"Yeah, Sheriff?"
"She's under the weather. I was thinkin' maybe I'd get her a present to cheer her up, but I'm not used to buyin' gifts for ladies. Any suggestions?"
"A nice locket, or maybe a scarf."
"A scarf sounds about right."
"We've got quite a selection."
"You got a green one?"
"Sure," Al said eagerly, gesturing for Cooper to follow him. "Maybe a green scarf to match those eyes of hers?"
"That's what I'm thinkin'."
"You've got four to pick from."
"Dang, I don't have a clue."
"This young lady might be able to help. Hey, Hannah, come on over here. The sheriff is wantin' to buy a scarf for—"
"A sick friend," Cooper said hastily, not wanting Hannah to get involved. "but I've made up my mind. That one, it's kinda shiny."
"You picked the costliest. It even comes with a box. I'll be right back."
"Who's sick?" Hannah asked. "Anyone I know?"
"Nope," he said briskly. "What are you doin' in here?"
"Came to get some blister cream and bandages for my mother. She got new shoes and they're bothering her."
"All set, Sheriff," Al called from the cash register.
"Excuse me, Hannah."
Walking away to pay Al, Cooper was grateful she didn't follow him, and hurriedly leaving the store, he headed home so he could deal with his rampant cock. It wasn't far, and he was soon in the privacy of his bedroom lying on the bed with his swollen manhood in his hand.
He could still taste her lips and feel the fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest. His climax was building, and abruptly he imagined her bent over his lap. He was gazing at her naked backside turning a delightful shade of pink under the hot slaps of his hand. It was enough to push him over the edge, and as his member jerked, spewing his essence, he let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"Violet, what have you done to me?" he mumbled, still trying to catch his breath. "This is so darn confoundin'."
But he wasn't complaining. He'd never been so elated, and he allowed himself a couple of minutes to relish the heady feeling.
Finally slipping off the bed and cleaning himself up, he started back to his office to mount up, but a sudden thought occurred to him. The saloon girls! Not all of them were trustworthy, but Josie was. He'd stop in and ask her to keep her eyes open for a tall mustached stranger. If the man chasing Violet did show up, he was likely to stop at the saloon for a drink.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Patrick Doyle was climbing into the stagecoach, completely perplexed and deeply distressed by Frank Connelly's parting words, the detective was knocking on the door of a modest home in a decent neighborhood. It was owned by Calvin Montgomery, the clerk from the stagecoach office. He was a decent man, happily married with three daughters, and he had never been in trouble with the law. The unexpected visit from the police sergeant the day before had left him shaken, and when he found a tall, rather unattractive man with a ridiculous mustache standing on his porch, Calvin felt a bolt of fear. The visitor had dark eyes under an angry scowl.
"Are you the clerk from the stagecoach office near Nob Hill?"
"I am."
"Detective Connelly," Frank declared, flashing his badge, then pushing past Calvin, he walked inside the house and looked around.
"Uh, I already spoke to someone," Calvin said nervously. "There was a sergeant here. Sergeant Doyle, I believe."
"Calvin, this is going to go one of two ways," Frank said gravely, menace oozing out of him. "You're going to tell me the truth or I'm going to hurt you."
"Uh, the truth about what, Detective Connelly?" Calvin asked nervously. "I don't understand. Hurt me? Police officer's don't walk into people's homes and threaten them."
"I do, and I'm warning you! Don't play dumb! A young woman, dark red hair! You sold her a fare yesterday around this time, and you told my sergeant you barely remember her. That was a lie! She's not a female people forget! Do you want me to hurt you, Calvin?"
Calvin had never been so scared in his life. Not only did he believe he'd suffer great bodily harm if he didn't give the man the information he wanted, he suspected the despicable detective was the reason the young lady had been running away.
"Honey, what's—oh, we have company."
Calvin felt his blood run cold, and turning around he stared at his wife. Her smile was quickly fading. She'd realized the tall man standing in her living room was an unpleasant fellow, very unpleasant.
"Maybe I should ask her these questions," Frank snarled, striding across the room and gripping Erin's arm. "I'm sure you come home and tell her everything that goes on in that office of yours. She'll be more than happy to provide me with the information I'm looking for, won't you, Mrs. Montgomery?"
"OW, let me go. You're hurting me."
"Calvin! Three seconds to start talking or I'll punch her right in her pretty little nose, and that's just for starters!"
"Okay, okay, let her go," Calvin begged. "Please, let her go."
"I'll let her go when you start blabbing," Frank growled, tightening his grip. "I'm going to start counting. One--"
"She didn't give me her name," Calvin shouted. "She said if I didn't know I wouldn't have to lie."
"What color were her eyes?"
"Green, bright green."
"Which stop was she getting off at? So help me if you don't tell me the truth I'll break your wife's arm after I smash her nose in."
"Brownsville, Brownsville," Calvin exclaimed frantically. "The last stop on the line."
"See, that wasn't so difficult was it?" Frank sneered, shoving the woman towards her husband. "Next time a sergeant comes knocking on your door, tell him the goddamned truth."
"Yes, yes, I will," Calvin promised, wrapping his arms around his terrified wife.
Frank could feel their frightened eyes follow him as he walked to the front door, and stepping outside an evil smirk crossed his face. Brownsville. He'd never heard of the place, but that's where he was headed. He couldn't shake the feeling Patrick wasn't up to the task.
Dealing with his Captain had been easier than he'd thought. Frank had told him there had been a sudden death in his family and he needed a few days off. Though his boss had eyed him suspiciously, he'd agreed. What Frank would say when he got back with the girl in tow he wasn't sure, but he didn't care. He'd think of something. He always did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Cooper stirred from sleep the following morning, he saw no sunlight pushing through the curtains. Slipping from his bed he padded across to the window, and moving them back he looked up at the heavy skies looming overhead. The possibility of rain was in the air, and letting out a yawn he began to ready himself for the day. He'd spent longer than he'd intended in his search for the suspected rustlers the afternoon before, and though he'd found an abandoned campground, there had been no sign of the men who had used it. When he'd returned dirty and tired he'd been surprised to find Charlie still in his office. The young man's enthusiasm was impressive, and as he began to dress, Cooper had little doubt his wanna-be deputy would be outside the office door waiting for him to arrive.
But foremost on his mind was Violet.
He'd returned too late to visit and he couldn't wait to see her. He wanted to sit with her, hold her hand, and softly kiss her sweet lips. Pulling on his shirt, then buttoning up a jacket, he stuffed the thin box containing the scarf against his ribs. It would be safe if it started to rain, but as he walked out his front door he was met with a swirling gust of cold wind.
"This is gonna be more than some rain," he muttered, and striding to the end of the block, he turned into Main Street.
It was ominously quiet. A shiver rattled through him. He paused. It hadn't been from the chill in the air. Danger was lurking. His senses on alert he continued on, and as he neared his office he spotted Charlie leaning against the door trying to stay out of the cold.
"Mornin', Sheriff," the young man said as Cooper approached. "Lookin' like it's gonna be a nasty kinda day."
"Mornin, Charlie. Yep. I reckon we're in for a storm," he replied, unlocking the door and stepping into his office. "Did you check on River?"
"Sure did. Hazel is with him, but she sure was edgy ridin' here. My pa says she's storm wary."
"Mare's can be that way," Cooper replied, "and Charlie, besides the weather, I'm feelin' like there's somethin' brewin'."
"Like what, Sheriff?"
"Dunno, but I'm sensin' trouble'. It's kinda like sniffin' the wind and gettin' a whiff of a scent that isn't quite there yet."
"You just gave me the willies."
"It's good. Keeps you on your toes," he said solemnly, then pausing he added, "Charlie, listen up. There might be an unwelcome stranger comin' into town. Tall fella with a big mustache. His name's Frank Connelly. He's a detective from San Francisco. If he tries to talk to you act dumb, don't answer any questions, then come and find me, but make sure he doesn't follow you."
"What's this about, Sheriff?"
"I can't tell you that right now, but do as I say."
"Sure will."
"I'm goin' on my rounds then over to Mrs. Elwood's Boardin' house," Cooper continued as he opened his top desk drawer. "You need to study this. It's a book outlinin' the duties of a deputy along with some basics about crime and punishment. You've got five days to learn it, then I'll test you."
"This is great, Sheriff. Thanks."
"One more thing. Whatever you hear in this office, whatever I tell you, whatever anyone tells me or you, it's private!" he said sternly. "You don't repeat one word of it to anyone. Not your brothers, not your pa, not your sweetheart, not anyone. You'll be fired right quick if you do."
"Yes, sir, Sheriff. I won't. I swear."
"If it starts stormin' put the horses in the barn and give 'em plenty to eat. I'll see you in a bit."
"Thanks, Sheriff. I'm real happy to be here."
"I'm glad you're takin' the right path. Your pa has a nice spread, but if you'd rather be doin' somethin' besides ranchin' this is a good life. I'll be back in a bit."
Normally Cooper would take his time as he wandered past the shops. He'd peer in the windows making sure everything was as it should be, but he was in a hurry. Though he did stop at each storefront, he only paused momentarily to look inside, and he was soon walking through the small gate at the boarding house. When he stepped inside and Ruby Elwood greeted him, she was beaming.
"Come in, Sheriff. You'll be so pleased. Rose has never looked better. Between you and me, I don't think she's been well since she arrived."
"I agree."
"Can I get you some coffee?"
"That sounds real good. Thank you. I haven't had any this mornin'."
"You go on up. I'll be there shortly."
Taking the stairs two at a time, he strode down the short hall and knocked on Violet's door.
"Come on in."
As he entered and looked across at her, he broke into a wide smile. Mrs. Elwood was right. There had been no color in Violet's cheeks, but now they were rosy pink, and wearing a pale green robe, with her long copper hair spilling around her shoulders, she looked lovelier than ever.
"You seem a whole lot better," he exclaimed as he moved to stand beside the bed.
"Thank you, Cooper. I feel amazing. It's going to be very hard to sit in this bed all day."
"But you will, right?"
"Yes, I will. Can you stay?"
"For a bit," he replied, and unbuttoning his jacket, he withdrew the white box. "I, uh, this is for you."
"For me? What is it?"
"Somethin' to cheer you up. I hope you like it."
"Cooper! What a wonderful surprise!"
Pulling off the short coat, he placed it around the back of the chair, then sat down and watched her lift out the scarf.
"Oh, my goodness, it's just beautiful. Thank you so much."
"It reminded me of your eyes," he said softly, then feeling oddly embarrassed he removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not much good at stuff like this."
"Stuff like what?"
"Givin' gifts and such."
"I'd say you're very good," she said warmly. "Can I give you a thank you hug?"
"You betcha!"
As he leaned across the bed and put his arms around her shoulders, she sneakily placed the scarf around the back of his neck, and he suddenly found himself being pulled towards her.
"Whatta you doin'?"
"Trying to steal a kiss."
Abruptly her lips were pressed against his, the scarf fell loose, and he was engulfing her in his arms. Their passion ignited, but a soft knock on the door sent him scrambling back to his chair.
"I have your coffee, Sheriff," Ruby declared, entering the room carrying a tray, "and I figured you didn't have any breakfast, so I've brought you up some porridge with molasses."
"It's so good," Violet said rolling her eyes, hoping she didn't look as disheveled as she felt. "You're a wonderful cook, Ruby. I haven't had food like this in, gosh, I don't know how long. Maybe never."
"We know," Cooper
remarked, raising his eyebrows, "and those days are over. Thank you, this looks delicious."
"I have things to do so I'll leave you to chat. If you wouldn't mind bringing the tray back to the kitchen I'd be much obliged."
"Sure thing, and thanks again."
As Ruby left, closing the door behind her, Violet began to giggle. It was contagious, and Cooper began chuckling along with her.
"I feel like a kid doin' something wrong and almost gettin' caught!"
"That was so funny," Violet said, continuing to laugh. "You looked so flustered."
"I felt flustered! I still do!"
"Cooper, can I ask you something?"
"You know you can."
"Did you mean it yesterday when you said you were going to spank me?"
Staring at her flushed face, he had an inkling she wasn't asking out of fear, she was asking because she wanted him to.
"I did, and I will, just as soon as you're out of that bed," he promised, "and you were right, this porridge is real tasty."
"If that woman lived in San Francisco she'd be making a fortune as someone's private cook, or working in a nice restaurant."
"Speakin' of San Francisco," he said, lowering his voice and looking at her solemnly, "are you up to talkin'?"
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."
"Can you start by tellin' me why that detective is chasin' you?"
"He's been after me for ages," she said with a heavy sigh, "but I need to tell you other stuff first. From the time I was about six I was in an orphanage. It was a horrible place except for one lady. She used to sneak us cookies at night, and fetch extra blankets when it was cold. Then one day she told us she had to leave. She didn't say why, but we all knew it was because she was being too nice. I was about twelve when I finally ran away, but I promised myself I was going to do what she did. One day I'd find a way to make the lives of other children like me better. That's why the detective is after me."
"Are you sayin' you've been by yourself since you were twelve-years-old? How did you survive?"
"It was hard at first, so I'd pretend to be someone I wasn't just for fun. I found out I could do it really well, and that's how I began to make money. For instance, I'd find a well-dressed lady, and tell her that my mother had sent me to the store, but I'd lost my change and I'd be in terrible trouble. Then I'd beg her to help me. It always worked. Getting money to buy food for the children in my neighborhood became my reason for living. I still want to help, I just don't know how I can from here."
SHERIFF: His Town. His Laws. His Justice. Page 7