The Sheriff's Bride: A Golden Valley Story (Brides of Birch Creek Book 5)

by Laura D. Bastian

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Description

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek

  More

  Dear Reader

  Also Available

  About the Author

  The Sheriff’s Bride

  Brides of Birch Creek

  Book 5

  A Brides of Golden Valley Story

  By

  Laura D. Bastian

  Copyright © 2020 by Laura D. Bastian.

  All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author.

  Cover Design by Lange House Press

  When Dr. Beatrice Jones’ father passed away, she was stunned to learn the hospital she’d worked at by his side for years would no longer have her. With no where else to go, Beatrice remembers a letter she received from a cousin who had moved out west to become a mail order bride. Knowing she could do a lot of good as a doctor out west, Beatrice decides to move to Birch Creek. When the stagecoach she's traveling in is held up by a group of ruffians, Beatrice is saved from harm when the sheriff and his deputy arrive just in time.

  While in pursuit of the group he's been tracking for days, Sheriff Elias Mills comes upon them robbing a stage coach. He is shot by one but with the expert medical care of the woman he just saved, he manages to pull through. Unfortunately, the only place near enough for them to stop for help was at a house of ill repute. In order to save the good doctor's reputation, Sheriff Mills offers to marry her. Can these two strong spirits work together to become one, or will the town of Birch Creek lose both their doctor and their sheriff?

  Dear Beatrice,

  I hope you are well, and that you have had success in your goal of learning medicine. I know this letter is probably unexpected since we haven’t seen each other in years, but I want to assure you that I am doing well. I have managed to have a good life and have been productive even with the problems that broken bone as a teen presented to me.

  I have moved out west to the Idaho territory. I found myself in a wonderful little town called Birch Creek. There are so many things here to recommend it to anyone looking for a new life and a fresh start.

  This may not be something you would be interested in, but if you ever find yourself wanting a place to use your love of medicine and your knowledge of the human body and healing methods, might I recommend you look into coming out west? There is such a need for people who are strong and capable and willing to learn. I myself have even gone so far as to marry a widower with three children and have helped him with his farm as well as kept him alive after a horrid bite from a rattler snake.

  While I nursed him back to health, I wished for more knowledge and understanding of how to help someone heal, and if the people there aren’t understanding of your desires to work in medicine, I know Birch Creek would welcome you with open arms.

  Once again, I wish you well, and even if you choose not to come out here, I hope to receive a letter from you in return. I would love to know how you fair and how things are with you and your father.

  All my love,

  Grace Burr Owens

  CHAPTER ONE

  Beatrice adjusted her corset as best she could as she sat in the stage coach that bounced across each and every rock and rut in the dusty road. She’d been in the coach for more than an hour, and it seemed as if the ride would never end. She had started the journey with four other people, but at the previous outpost the other passengers had met their family and Beatrice had continued on by herself toward Birch Creek.

  At least since she was the only one in the carriage, she could make the adjustments for comfort without anyone judging her for her slightest move. After a quick unbuttoning of her outer jacket, she pulled out the wallet that had been her father’s and double checked that the money for her future was still there. Her father’s friend had insisted she keep the money on her person at all times and never let anyone know how much was there. She had a small satchel with some coins and smaller bills in order to pay for her traveling expenses, but the money in her hand was for something important.

  Mr. Carson had done his best to dissuade her from her plans by telling her of all the lawlessness she would find in the west. His alternate suggestions of remaining in New Jersey and finding a nice man to marry was rebuffed as firmly and as politely as she could. When Mr. Carson finally accepted that he could not change her mind, he had reluctantly wished her well and done everything he could to make sure she would have the things she needed to begin a life out west.

  Beatrice placed the long flat wallet back against her side under her arm and pulled the strings of the corset. She gave a few gentle tugs on the cloth that had bunched up around the ribcage, then redid the outer bodice and checked to make sure she was properly covered. If she wasn’t trying to make a good first impression when she arrived in her new home, she wouldn’t have even used the corset. She would need to do everything she could to make sure the people of Birch Creek saw her as a respectable woman. She would be watched for the slightest mistake and though she should be used to it by now, it had always bothered her to be under such close scrutiny.

  No matter how good she was, it was never enough. With her father gone, he couldn’t use his influence to stop the talk from others. She had hated thinking that he fought some of her battles, but it was impossible to deny that his respect and money had gone a long way toward soothing the outrage and disdain that had come from the fact she was a female doctor. Not even two weeks after his passing, she’d been asked, not kindly either, to leave the hospital she’d trained at and had done so much good in.

  Now she was basically running to a small town in the wilds of Idaho where her second cousin, Grace, had moved to work as a cook and cleaner. Poor girl hadn’t been there long before she ended up marrying a man with three small children.

  Beatrice still couldn’t believe Grace had agreed to something like that. No matter how much Grace had loved caring for her brother’s children, becoming an instant mother was insane. Grace should have stayed in New York and worked there, or even come to New Jersey to stay with Beatrice and her father.

  Of course, that wouldn’t have helped her now anyway. The unfairness of it all still rankled. Just because she had been born a woman didn’t mean she lacked the intelligence and the ability to do good for human kind. Not every woman wanted to become a mother or housekeeper. Not that she hated men as a gender. They weren’t all bad, just the ones who thought they were better than everyone else.

  Unfortunately, in most of her experience, she would have to place a large percentage of the other sex in the category of know-it-all.

  Grace had indicated that there was a great need for medical knowledge out here, so perhaps they wouldn’t be so prejudice against a woman doctor. Beatrice could hope, but until she reached Birch Creek and looked into a place to have her clinic, she would
n’t know.

  A crack of thunder startled her, and she turned to look out the window at the clear sky.

  What in the world?

  A strange dust cloud rose up from the ground and Beatrice tried to make sense of it all. The horses whinnied in fear and the stage coach driver shouted at them to move just before he shouted back to her.

  “Hold on to something. We’ve got robbers on our tail.”

  Beatrice poked her head out the window to look behind them and immediately pulled her head back in when she saw four horses behind them. It had been the shot of a rifle!

  They were still at a distance but looked as if they’d catch up quick enough. She had nothing with her that could be used to defend herself. Not unless she counted her doctor tools. She had a few bone saws and scalpels in one of her trunks, but they would do her no good unless she was in close contact with an attacker. She had made a vow to do no harm. She couldn’t imagine taking the life of someone when all she’d ever wanted to do was help people heal and be better.

  The crack of another rifle shot split the air, this time it was much closer than before.

  “Why are they after us?” Beatrice shouted to the driver.

  “They want anything valuable!” the driver shouted back. “If they get us, you’ll want to just give them what they want. Best to not fight and they’ll usually leave you alive.”

  The thought of giving in grated against her. She didn’t want to fight them and risk injury or death, but she didn’t want to give up everything she owned. She needed her tools, books, and the money to start a small clinic.

  The rumble of galloping horses got closer and closer and soon two horses passed the carriage and shouts from the men on those horses told the driver to stop or be shot. The carriage jolted and Beatrice was thrown off balance and ended up on her knees between the two seats. She scrambled for balance and leaned against one of the seats as the carriage came to a stop.

  Two other horses galloped up to the stage coach and shouted for anyone inside to put hands in the air. Beatrice did as she was told and when the door was thrown open she stared into the eyes of a man in a dirty hat with a bandanna across his lower face.

  “Get out of the carriage,” the man with the dirty hat shouted at her. “Who else is in there?”

  “No one,” Beatrice said. “The others got off at the last stop.”

  From behind, one of the other men, a big guy with long hair cussed angrily and Dirty Hat in front of her growled.

  “What do you have?” Dirty Hat said, pointing his pistol straight at her chest. “Jewelry? Money? Give me all of it.”

  Beatrice had a locket around her neck that wasn’t overly valuable. Just sentimental because of her parent’s pictures contained inside. She had one ring, also her mothers, and she hated the thought of losing them. She didn’t relish the thought of being shot over them either.

  With shaking fingers, she reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace, then pulled off her glove and tugged at the ring on her finger.

  “Hurry,” Long Hair shouted and snatched them out of her hands the moment the ring was off her finger.

  “Now, your money,” Dirty Hat demanded.

  She pulled out the small coin purse and handed it over, but Dirty Hat didn’t seem satisfied with that.

  “Where’s the rest of it?”

  “I don’t have any more,” Beatrice said. She could get away with pretending to be some poor relative coming to visit her family or better yet… “I’m only traveling out west because my parents are gone and I’ve answered an advertisement to become a farmer’s bride.”

  A thud from behind made Beatrice turn around in time to see her travel case thrown from the storage section of the coach. The top broke and some of her clothing and books fell into the dirt.

  “No!” she gasped as one of the men, younger looking that the other two, started throwing things out of the case. Her books, the precious medical information she’d need access to, lay haphazardly in the dirt. A few pages came loose and skittered away in the breeze.

  “What’s this?” Dirty Hat said, pulling her doctor bag from inside the carriage.

  “Don’t touch those!” Beatrice shouted, then immediately stumbled to the side, nearly dropping to the ground when Long Hair slapped her.

  “Keep quiet, woman!”

  Beatrice fumed inside. If she lost her tools, she wouldn’t be very successful in starting up a practice in Birch Creek. Not unless she could order more, but if these men learned she had her money under her bodice, she’d lose even that chance.

  “Got the driver’s wallet,” the fourth man shouted from horseback where he still remained pointing his pistol at the driver. “Grab your things and let’s go!”

  Long Hair stomped toward her and Beatrice backed up in fear from the look in his eyes.

  “Think I’ll take her with,” Long Hair said.

  “Don’t have time for that, Benny” Dirty Hat said.

  “I’ll just throw her over the front of my saddle,” Benny said. “She won’t be any trouble there.”

  The younger one laughed and as he mounted his horse he said, “Then when you get tired of her, I’ll take her.”

  Benny laughed. “Think she’d skin you alive, Chet. But she’ll be just right for me.” He grabbed for her and Beatrice screamed and hit him as hard as she could before feeling the same kind of blow he’d given her moments ago. “I’ll show her who’s boss.”

  He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed and hit him, yanking his hair as hard as she could and clawing at his neck. He punched her in the back, right below her kidney and she grunted in pain and nearly lost consciousness.

  Dirty Hat laughed. “Looks like she’ll try to skin you, too. Better drop her and we’ll just take our stuff and go.”

  “Not happening,” Benny said. “She owes me now.”

  A rifle crack from behind her rang out and hit a patch of dirt not far from where the man still on the horse sat. Benny threw her to the ground at the same time Dirty Hat and the other two shouted. “Sheriff!”

  They mounted and kicked their horses to a gallop, leaving Beatrice gasping on the ground. The coach driver bent down and pulled out a rifle from under his seat. He braced it as he took aim and fired at the robbers at the same time another shot from behind rang out.

  The coach horses skittered with nerves, but didn’t race off and Beatrice scrambled to her feet. She turned to see two men on horseback racing toward them. At first, she worried it might be more robbers, but they looked to be much cleaner and more impressive than the ones that had just accosted her.

  Neither of the men slowed down, just glanced at her and the coach driver before racing on in pursuit of the bandits. A second shot from the rifle in the driver’s hands blast out and Beatrice squealed in shock. What was he thinking to be shooting as the sheriff and his partner raced past?

  The driver put his rifle down and climbed off the coach then checked her and hurried to pick up anything that might still be there after the bandits had gone. “We need to move.”

  Beatrice forced herself to help, her body shaking so hard she worried she might not be able to walk straight or even manage to pick up anything. With a strange detachment, she realized deep in her inner brain that she was most likely going through a traumatic shock to her system.

  She dropped her books a few times, then finally managed to get herself under control and picked them up with an inner command that sounded a lot like how her father would have spoken.

  The driver hefted the trunk onto the back, and did his best to strap it back down.

  “Do you need help into the coach?” he asked.

  Beatrice shook her head and climbed in then shut the door just before the driver gave a command to the horses and the carriage was on its way again.

  She looked out the window, surprised they were moving forward. The driver made no attempt to turn around and go back to where they’d stopped at the last station. It was probabl
y best to move on. With the sheriff and his partner after the wicked men, she didn’t imagine they would be bothered by them again.

  She buried her face in her hands. She’d lost her physicians bag and the needed tools for working with minor ailments and surgeries. She could order more, thank heavens, but it would set her back and she had hoped to use all the money in buying a place to house her practice.

  The anger of being robbed helped her not focus on what might have happened to her person if the sheriff hadn’t arrived when he had.

  She prayed the lawmen could take care of those stains on society quickly and completely so no one else would have to deal with anything similar.

  ***

  Elias Mills, Sheriff of Birch Creek, had only been on the job for a few months and had already had to deal with two feuds between competing land owners claiming the same portion of land, helping a cattleman get his stolen herd back, tracking down a bank robber, and now he was after the group of ruffians that had started plaguing the valley a few weeks back.

  He’d only been able to convince Samuel Hicks to become his deputy four days ago and now they were chasing the bandits and being shot at from horseback.

  Elias wondered if he should have just gone with his brother to California as he chased the dream of finding gold.

  One of the four men ahead of them had been hit in the shoulder by the stage coach driver moments after they had passed the coach, yet the thief hadn’t lost his seat yet.

  It was obvious he was slowing down, and Elias held his pistol ready just in case the man decided to slow enough to get off a shot with any accuracy.

  Two of the others had kept riding hard and turned to fire behind them, and though it was always a sobering thought, it was unlikely to hit either him or Samuel. Not without a lot of luck for the shooter.