Brides of the West Read online

  “Some future. The only restaurant in town serves me only when you’re with me. The only boardinghouse throws me out and no one else would even consider renting me a room. All because I inherited Mr. Woods’ properties. I’ve been in them once, and never met him.”

  “They don’t know anything about you.” He stepped back. Holding her caused too many problems and one big problem he didn’t want her to see. “They only know about Barry Woods and the kind of businesses he ran in town. You just have to give them a chance to know you. You’ll see changes in people once they know who you are.”

  “It’s difficult to do when they’re shutting doors in my face.”

  “Why don’t you get some sleep and things will look different in the morning?” He still felt uneasy about leaving her alone in the jail.

  “You’re right. I’m keeping you from your duties.” She moved to the cell and tested the mattress. “I’ve slept on much worse. Thank you, Josh.” She bounced on the bed a few times. He needed to get out of here before he lost control.

  “I’ll make my rounds and check on you before I go home.” When he left, he locked the door behind him.

  ***

  Annabelle plopped onto the cot. Tears that never fell during the years of war and deprivation burst forth. Damn Barry Woods and the Chances Are Saloon and Social Club. Damn the townspeople of Shiloh Springs.

  If it wasn’t against her nature, she’d take all Barry’s money, sell the properties and leave town. She’d survived the war, the Yankees hadn’t driven her from her home and a few narrow-minded bigots wouldn’t drive her away from this town either.

  She wiped the tears and steeled her spine. No longer penniless, she was now a businesswoman. She’d take things one day at a time. Worrying wasn’t going to do her any good.

  Closing the saloon and social club might satisfy the town busybodies, but she needed to generate money. Barry told her he owned a restaurant and hotel. The town had a restaurant, but there was no hotel. The idea had possibilities. The girls in the social club used the rooms upstairs for their—uh, business. She could turn them into hotel rooms. Her mind was mulling over the prospect when she heard a key in the lock.

  Relief filled her when Josh entered. She entertained running to meet him, throwing her arms around him and enjoying his warm embrace. But perhaps he wouldn’t like her touching him.

  “Just making sure you’re all right.” The shadows played across his face emphasizing his stubble. His maleness threatened to overwhelm her.

  “I’m fine. Just one thing.” She didn’t want to say it, but had to. “I need to use the necessary.”

  He led her to the back where a heavy bar lay across the door. After removing it, they stepped into the alley. He pointed her in the direction of the privy. “I’ll wait over here. Call out when you’re done.”

  She entered the small wooden structure and used it as quickly as possible. “I’m ready.”

  Josh placed his hand at the small of her back and ushered her back into the jail. Once inside he relocked and barred the door. “The cell won’t lock unless you use the key. So you won’t be locked in. If anyone comes to the door, don’t answer it, don’t open it, and don’t say anything. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. No one is to know I’m here.”

  “Right, I’ll lock the door behind me like I always do. Keep the light low and in the back.” Josh walked to the door. “When I come back, I’ll knock, then unlock the door. Good-night, Annabelle.”

  She wanted him to stay. But before she could utter a word, he was gone. “Good-night, Josh,” she whispered to herself.

  She made her way back to the cell and changed into her nightclothes. The cool sheets soon warmed. The lights and shadows dancing around the room made her uneasy.

  Her thoughts turned to Josh. He seemed like a good man who took his responsibilities seriously and the townspeople clearly respected him. For all his ordering her about, she realized it was for her own good, not to get something for himself. A handsome man, he bore few visible scars on his face and hands. His touch left her breathless and light-headed. Her head swam, her breath caught in her chest and an ache formed low in her abdomen, driving her to yearn for his touch. She’d known him for only a few days and here she was—wanting him.

  Violent pounding on the door woke her from a deep sleep. It was still nighttime. Someone was outside the door. She lay still, refusing to breathe lest they know she was inside.

  “Sheriff, you in there with that little girl? We want some of that, too.”

  Oh no! If Josh were here, he’d know what to do. All she had to protect herself was a broom. She slipped from the bed as the man continued to yell. Crawling to the desk, she grabbed the keys and took them back to the cell as the man continued to pound and tried to peer in the window.

  Inside the cell she pulled the door closed behind her and fitted the key in the lock until she heard it click.

  She slid under the bed with the blanket. She whispered, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” The Twenty-third Psalm, which she’d recited repetitively while hiding from the Yankees during the war, poured from her lips. Violent smashing of the window caused her to cover her ears and shudder with fear. They were coming through the window!

  “Well, that bitch has to be here. We ain’t found her no place else in town.”

  Annabelle held her breath.

  “The boss says to kill her, but nothing says we can’t have fun first.”

  “Ain’t no other place in town would take her. She being a whore and all.”

  How could she be a whore? She’d never even been with a man. Pain and fear gripped her. Would they find a way into the cell? She didn’t dare breathe.

  “Where you at whore?” one called out. “Finished servicing the sheriff? We’re next.”

  They moved through the jail. “Come on out here, girl, we want some, too. Just give us some of what you gave the sheriff.”

  She pulled herself as far into the corner as possible. Memories of the war spiked through her. The blanket filled her mouth to muffle any sounds she might make. Only the scarcest of breaths reached her lungs.

  The men rattled the cell door. It held. “Come on, whore, open up.” The door rattled violently. “We’ll get you one way or another.”

  “Step away from that cell!” Josh’s thundering voice filled the jail and chased away her fear. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

  “We ain’t doin’ nothin’.” The cell door rattled again. Gunshots filled the air.

  Did they kill Josh? Her heart sank until she heard his voice.

  “Annabelle! It’s Josh. Where are you?” Footsteps moved toward the cell. The door rattled. She looked out from under the cot. Josh stood at the cell door. She thanked God.

  “Annabelle, are you hurt?” He rattled the door. “Where’s the key?”

  “I have it.”

  “Josh, you in there?” She recognized Roger Miller’s voice.

  “Yeah. We have two dead in here.” He looked at her. She saw anger in his eyes, but it wasn’t for her.

  “What happened?” Roger asked.

  “These two broke into the jail. Miss Yeager locked herself in the cell to protect herself.” Both men eyed her, standing there in her nightgown and bare feet. “They refused to surrender and drew on me.”

  “He was one bad hombre,” Roger opined, craning his neck to look at one of them. “Kicked dogs and kids for no reason.”

  “Would you open the cell, Miss Yeager?” Josh asked.

  She retrieved the key and shakily unlocked the door. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and used his body to shield her from the dead while ushering her into the front office. She sat in one of the chairs, her head in her hands. Josh got a blanket and wrapped it around her. His hands rested on her shoulders for a few moments reassuring her.

  “Roger, go find the undertaker and get something to board up this window. I want them out of here,” he gestured toward the bodies.

&n
bsp; “What happened? Don’t leave anything out.” Josh asked her.

  “I was asleep when someone knocked on the door and started yelling. I did like you said and ignored it.” She pulled the blanket closer. “He continued to pound. I got the keys and locked myself in the cell. They broke the window and came in. I hid under the bunk.”

  “Did they say anything?”

  “They said they wanted what you got.” She stiffened. “They called me a...a whore. One said the boss wanted them to...to kill me, but he wanted to have fun first.” Just having Josh close calmed her. He would protect her.

  “Well, you can’t stay here now. Once Roger gets back, I’ll take you to my place and you can stay there. I’ll stay here.” He looked around.

  ***

  Damn. This was his fault. Josh knew he shouldn’t have left her alone. Someone had killed Barry Woods and now someone had attempted to kill her. It had to be connected to the Chances Are. Once again, a woman he cared about had been hurt because he hadn’t protected her. This was the last time. He would keep her safe and find the culprit.

  Moments later others arrived and he sent them away. He had no patience with people who were just too nosy for their own good and besides he didn’t want people gawking. Reverend Huddleston showed up uninvited and went to the back to pray for the not so dearly departed.

  “Reverend, I would appreciate it if you’d put your efforts into comforting the living.” He motioned at Annabelle. Although he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, it wasn’t proper. How had she gotten under his skin so fast?

  The Reverend moved over to Annabelle. She looked up at Huddleston. Her eyes, how Josh loved her eyes.

  “Oh dear, what a trial you’ve endured.”

  “Thank you, Reverend, but I’m quite all right. You can return home.”

  Thank God she dismissed the windbag. Josh ushered the man to the door. “Thank you, Reverend. I’m sure Digger will let you know about the funerals.” Recognizing the man’s reluctance to leave, he quickly added, “I’m certain Mrs. Huddleston is worried.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure she is.” The minister rushed out of the jail like the devil was on his coattails.

  “We didn’t need him,” Roger said as he showed up with Digger, the undertaker.

  Josh walked to the cell area with them and picked up the dead men’s guns. “They won’t be needing these now. Take them out the back door.” He unlocked it.

  “Yes, sir,” the undertaker responded. “I’ll just move the wagon around back.” He left through the front door only to enter through the back a few minutes later.

  “I’m going to take Miss Yeager to my room. I’ll be back directly.” He took her arm and thought more about his decision to let her stay first at the jail and then his room. “Don’t anyone go thinking bad things about Miss Yeager and me. I’ll be bunking here at the jail, like I should have in the first place.”

  As he spoke, he found himself staring at Annabelle. The blanket had slipped loose and the silhouette of her curvaceous body in her nightgown danced eerily against the dimly lit lantern as it mesmerized him beyond redemption. Without hesitation, he rewrapped the cover around her.

  He slammed the door behind them and walked her through the dark, deserted street.

  At the blacksmith’s shop, he took her to his room. The room was neat because he had yet to sleep in it that night. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t get Annabelle out of his mind—her eyes, her lips, and her body. He’d imagined her softness, her fragrance and the taste of her sweetness. He’d wanted to be near her and was making rounds for the third time when they’d broken into the jail.

  Now he wanted to stay and hold her, but he couldn’t. She had to have been scared out of her wits just like in the war. How could such a fragile looking beauty be so brave and tough?

  She crawled up on the bed, her legs hanging over the edge.

  “You stay here. Do you know how to use a gun?”

  “Yes. Pa and my brothers made sure I could use a pistol and shotgun.”

  “I’ve got a shotgun.” He pulled it out of a corner. “Keep it by the bed. If anyone you don’t know shows up, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  She nodded.

  “Go to sleep, no one will bother you here.” Of course, he’d said the very same thing about the jail. Josh tucked her in his bed and watched her close her angel eyes. His pants tightened as he hardened. He stepped out the door, locking it behind him.

  When he returned to the jail, the bodies were gone. He’d scrub the blood stains later.

  Stretched out on the same bunk where Annabelle had slept, he thought about what she’d said. Someone wanted her dead. Why? The answer kept coming back to the Chances Are Saloon. Barry Woods owned it and someone murdered him. Annabelle had saved herself from the same fate.

  He was too tired for serious thinking. Changing his mind, he arose, found the brush and a bucket in the backroom and started to scrub the blood. Damn, they hadn’t given him any choice. He’d much preferred capturing them so he could find out who hired them. No doubt there would be another attempt on Annabelle’s life. Much as he wanted to kill the person who hired them, he’d let him meet Judge King who didn’t have a compassionate bone in his body. He scrubbed harder.

  Finished with the cleanup, his mind drifted as he drank another cup of coffee. Annabelle kept invading his thoughts. Her cute little bare feet under the nightgown, tousled hair, pretty face and bow lips caused his body to hum with anticipation. He wasn’t a randy schoolboy, but a twenty-eight year old man who wasn’t celibate. The last time he’d given away his heart had been to his fiancée, but heck, he wasn’t giving it away this time—Annabelle was stealing it.

  Earlier, he’d sent Roger to the hardware store about the broken window. While Josh was making his rounds, Doug Tipton, the hardware store owner, made the repair. Everything seemed normal in town except for women raising their noses at him, which he took in stride.

  Doug met him on the sidewalk. “You want me to put that wender on your bill?”

  Hell no. “No, it’s the county’s window. Send the bill to them.” He took two steps and stopped. “Why would you think I’d pay for it?”

  “Guess because it was yor girlfriend sleepin’ in the jail. Wender wouldn’t gotten broke if she hadn’t been in the jail.” Doug rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned on his broom. “She should’ve gone to the Chances Are. There’s plenty of room there.”

  He grabbed Doug and slammed him up against the wall. “Miss Yeager is a lady. She couldn’t stay with whores and have any hope of ever holding her head up in Shiloh Springs.”

  A crowd quickly gathered and he turned to face them. “She came here with only one intention—to get married. Woods died and left her a way to survive—the saloon.” He saw the preacher standing in the crowd. “I ought to rip down that cross on the church because it doesn’t mean a thing in Shiloh Springs. Not one of you has followed the golden rule. I’m ashamed of being sheriff here.” He took off the badge and handed it to Mr. Landers.

  Then he saw Annabelle standing at the edge of the group, fear pooled in her eyes.

  Immediately he strode over to her. “Miss Yeager, may I escort you to breakfast?”

  The crowd parted and he walked her to Gloria’s.

  ***

  Annabelle felt sick at heart as she picked at her food. She’d been nothing but trouble to Josh since she’d arrived in town and hated herself for it. Maybe she should get on the next stage out of town after all.

  “I think you ought to sell the Chances Are Saloon. It ain’t nothing but trouble.” He cut into a stack of flapjacks and lifted the fork to his mouth. “In fact, you should do yourself a favor and just close it.”

  “I can’t afford to close it.” She wasn’t sure how much money she had left and the place had lots of customers.

  “It’s a nuisance. Why I’m, or was, over there at least once a day and more on weekends.” He took another bite of flapjacks.
r />   “I asked Mr. Landers about selling it, but he said there weren’t any takers. I have another idea, though.” Her throat was dry so she sipped some more coffee. “I could turn the social club into a hotel and make the Chances Are a restaurant.”

  His fork stopped mid-air. She thought he’d started to say something, but didn’t.

  She continued with her idea. “The ladies will have to move out, of course. And I’ll have to replace the beds and fix up the rooms. It could take a week or two.”

  “Personally, I still think you ought to close it.” He took another bite. “But it’s yours. Talk to Mr. Webber at the bank and Mr. Landers. Meanwhile you’ll stay in my room. The sooner you do something, the better.”

  Annabelle struggled to understand him. She thought he’d like her idea. Last night he’d held her and made her feel safe, but now he treated her like a stranger. She needed to hold him, touch him, and feel his quiet strength. What had she done to lose her only friend?

  “I’ll walk you over to the bank.” Josh stood and paid Gloria. When Annabelle followed him out the door, he took her arm and led her to the bank. It wasn’t the closeness she wanted, but she’d take what she could get.

  Ted Webber sat in his office. “Sheriff. Miss Yeager. Mr. Woods was a valued customer. Mr. Landers brought the documents and opened an account in your name. I transferred Mr. Woods’ account into yours.” He pulled out a small booklet and handed it to her. She looked at it. Her balance was over four hundred dollars. A gasp escaped her.

  Josh took it. He lifted a brow before returning it to her.

  “How soon can I have some of the money?” Anticipation filled her. She had enough money to make her plan work.

  “Whenever you want it. Just bring the book and tell Mr. Smiley how much you want.” He rose. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a prior engagement. Thank you, Miss Yeager.”

  Josh ushered her out to the lobby. Lauren Thamann blocked the door and stared at her.

  “Lauren.” Josh acknowledged her presence.

  “Sheriff,” the madam said, walking toward the banker’s office.