Lawfully Saved
Inspirational Christian Historical
A Bounty Hunter LawKeeper Romance
By
Patricia PacJac Carroll
Copyright © May, 2018
Published by Patricia PacJac Carroll
ALL rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, (except for inclusion in reviews), disseminated or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audio. Including photocopying, recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system, or the Internet/World Wide Web without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Introduction to The LawKeepers
There’s just something fascinating about a man wearing an emblem of authority. The way the light gleams off that shiny star on his badge makes us stare with respect. Couple that with a uniform hugging his body in just the right way, confidence, and mission to save and protect, it’s no wonder we want to know what lies underneath.
Yes, what echoes deep inside those beating hearts is inspiring. Certainly appealing. Definitely enticing. Although those ripped muscles and strong shoulders can make a woman’s heart skip a beat—or two—it takes a strong, confident person to choose to love someone who risks it all every day. Anyone willing to become part of a lawkeeper’s world might have a story of their own to tell.
The undeniable charisma lawmen possess make all of us pause and take note. It’s probably why there are so many movies and TV shows themed around the justice system. We’re enthralled by their ability to save babies, help strangers, and rescue damsels in distress. We’re captivated by their ability to protect and save, defend the innocent, risk their lives, and face danger without hesitation. Of course, we expect our heroes to stay solid when we’re in a mess. We count on them for safety, security, and peace of mind. From yesterday to today, that truth remains constant.
Their valor inspires us, their integrity comforts, and their courage melts our hearts—irresistibly. But there’s far more to them than their courageous efforts. How do they deal with the difficulties they face? Can they balance work and life? And how do they find time for love outside their life of service?
We want to invite you on a journey—come with us as we explore the complex lives of the men and women who serve and protect us every day. Join us in a fast-paced world of adventure. Walk into our tight-knit world of close friendships, extended family, and danger—as our super heroes navigate the most treacherous path of all—the road to love.
The Lawkeepers. Historical and modern-day super heroes; men and women of bravery and valor, taking love and law seriously. A multi-author series, sure to lock up your attention and take your heart into custody.
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The Lawkeepers is a multi-author series alternating between historical westerns and contemporary westerns featuring law enforcement heroes that span multiple agencies and generations. Join bestselling authors Jenna Brandt, Lorana Hoopes, Elle E. Kay, Patricia PacJac Caroll, Evangeline Kelly, Ginny Sterling and Barb Goss as they weave captivating, sweet, and inspirational stories of romance and suspense between the lawkeepers — and the women who love them.
The Lawkeepers is a world like no other; a world where lawkeepers and heroes are honored with unforgettable stories, characters, and love.
** Note: Each book in The Lawkeepers series is a standalone book, and part of a mini-series of sorts, and you can read them in any order.
Check out all The LawKeepers books here> https://www.amazon.com/The-Lawkeepers/e/B079MNY47R
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Afterword
Quest for Iris
Lawfully Saved
Inspirational Christian Historical
A Bounty Hunter LawKeeper Romance
By
Patricia PacJac Carroll
Chapter 1
Rand Ketcham stared at the rosebush, found the perfect bud on the Damask rose, and cut the stem. He growled at an offending thorn and stared at the blood streaming from his thumb. Lost in the memories of that day, he pondered how his blood matched the color of the deep red rose. The pain a dull taste of the events of that awful day.
The pleasant aroma took away some of the thorn’s sting as he put the rose in a vase. He poured water into the container and tried to picture Susanna, but her image had blurred. Whether from time or drink, he wasn’t sure. He set the glass vase in the window. “For you, Susanna.”
He felt like an old man. At twenty-nine, it shouldn’t be. But a lot of things shouldn’t have been. Susanna shouldn’t have married a gunfighter turned bounty hunter. He shouldn’t have gone after the Burton gang. He sure shouldn’t have missed his shot.
Rand stopped the scene that played in his mind. He’d seen it too many times and instead stared at the calendar, April 10, 1871. Two years ago, it had been a Saturday. He shook his head and turned to the rose. “Maybe I should get two of you.”
He went back outside and gazed longingly at the yellow rosebush. It hadn’t bloomed since Susanna had died. Surprised, he did see a small bud as if the bush was trying to come alive. Rand turned to the red rosebush and snipped another bud. One for each year that he’d been without his love. Back in the house, he took the vase, set it on the table, and stared at the roses and then the bottle of whiskey. The bottle won.
A knock on the door interrupted his attempts to drink away the day. Grateful yet irritated, he turned to look out the window to see who had the bad luck to bother him on this of all days.
With a scowl, he opened the door.
A young woman, strangely resembling Susanna, stood in front of him and nervously licked her lips. “They said the house with the flowers. Are you Rand Ketcham?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. She was intruding. He’d let her go ahead and initiate the conversation.
She fidgeted with the satchel she was holding. “I heard about you. That you can track and find people. I need your help.”
“I’m retired.”
She shoved her satchel between the door and the frame, stopping his attempt to slam it in her face. “You look too young to be retired.”
“That’s my business.” He kicked the satchel, but she shoved it back in the doorway.
With her dark hair askance and eyes wide, she pleaded, “Please. I need your help. I have no one and nowhere else to turn to.”
“Look lady—”
“Rose McCabe. I came in on the stage a week ago. From Philadelphia.”
He needed a drink. “I don’t care if you came from the moon, I’m not interested.”
“You’re my last hope.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Cornflower blue like Susanna’s.
He kept his hand on the door and shook his head. “I’m nobody’s hope. Go on back where ever it is you come from.”
“Philadelphia. I can’t. It took all I had to get here. Ben said he’d meet me. I know something has happened to him. Please.” Her chin quivered.
“Lady, what gives you the idea I can help you.”<
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She reached in her pocket and pulled out a worn, yellowed paper. “It said you were the best. That you could find anyone. I need you to find my Ben for me.”
“No.”
“We’re in love.”
He shook his head, and his gaze again fell on the yellow rosebush. Susanna’s favorite. Rand turned his gaze to his morning’s annoyance. “What did you say your name was?”
“Rose. Rose McCabe. My fiancé is Ben Anderson.”
“He know you’re coming?”
She dropped her gaze and nodded. “We wrote letters. He was to meet me in town. He’s missing. I fear something has happened to him.”
Rand scratched the back of his neck. “Lady … Rose, this is Texas. Something happens to a lot of people out here. You check the undertaker?” Instantly, he regretted how harsh he sounded as her sob tore at him.
After wiping her eyes, she straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Yes, I checked with the sheriff, the preacher, the saloon. No one has seen him in a week.”
Rand wanted to kick himself. What was he doing asking her questions? He’d met Ben Anderson once, maybe seen him a couple of times.
She fidgeted with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her sleeve. “He has a small spread on the Brazos. I waited there three days before I went back to town. No one has seen him. The door to his cabin was closed but not locked. There were no horses in the barn. It’s as if he disappeared.”
He knew where Ben lived. Rand really needed that drink now. “Look, I’m not interested. I’m retired.”
Her eyes fired with anger. “Retired or dead? Because that’s what you look like. You’re filthy. Your house, from what I can see, is a pig sty. The only thing that is neat are your flowers. And they are beautiful. There must be some life left in you.”
“You’re a sassy thing. I didn’t ask you to come here, and I sure don’t need your criticism.” She’d nailed him. He did want to die. Most of him anyway. What was there left to live for? Susanna was gone, and only her flowers remained.
“But I need you. Help me!” Her tears flowed freely now.
“You need the sheriff not a retired bounty hunter.”
She held the yellowed paper up. “It says you’re the best at finding people, and that’s who I need.” She leaned against the door frame. Her face paled as she slumped to the porch, mumbling “I need you.”
Rand looked around. No one saw. No one ever came out this way. Over the last two years, he’d scared off all the well-meaning church do-gooders and the few friends he had. He stared at her. She’d collapsed in a heap on his porch. He knelt and slapped her face. Not hard, gentle just to wake her.
She didn’t move.
He picked her up. Light as a feather. Like Susanna. He kicked the door and brought her into his house. Now that he looked at it, he had to admit she was right. Whiskey bottles littered the floor. He went to his bed and hesitated to put her on the filthy sheets.
Still holding her, he looked around the room. The house that Susanna had decorated with love and her womanly touch. But that was all gone now. Dust and filth covered everything. He set Rose in a chair. One that he’d managed to not break.
He held her with one hand while grabbing the closest bottle of whiskey. Supporting her with his leg, he opened the bottle and slid it under her nose. “Come on, Rose. You can’t pass out on me. You surely can’t stay here.”
She moaned.
He forced a sip of the rotgut into her mouth.
She sputtered and spewed it out. Her eyes opened. “What, where …” She looked around. “Why am I inside your house? What are you trying to do?”
He stood back and put his hands up. “You fainted.”
Color shot back into her face. “I’m sorry.” She attempted to stand.
Afraid she’d fall again, he pushed her down. “Better rest a minute. When was the last time you ate?”
She looked at him as confusion and sorrow flitted across her face. “When I left Philadelphia. No, I had a small meal here. In,” She shook her head. “Where am I?”
“The town is Duston. Named after the biggest ranch and rancher.”
Her eyes regained their sharpness. “Duston, yes. Ben wrote that he was going to work for him, but that he’d be done before I came to town.” She grabbed his hand with a strong hold. “Please help me. I love him so.”
Rand stepped back. “Let me know where you’re staying? I’ll think about it and let you know.” Of course, he had no intention of helping her. That wasn’t his business. Luckily, the last outlaws he’d caught had won him a big bounty though it’d cost him everything. He’d been living, if you could call it that, off the blood money and still had most of it.
Rose became quiet, and he feared she’d pass out again. He looked down, and she was crying and dabbing her eyes with the lacey handkerchief. She shook her head. “I went to his cabin and stayed for a couple of days. Then I walked back. I slept on a bench in the town square last night.”
It was as if flood waters were converging on him and not giving him a choice. Drowning, he shook his head. “You can’t sleep outside. It’s supposed to rain tonight.”
“I have nowhere to go. … Except the saloon.” She darted a gaze at him. Her eyes fiery. “I left that life in Philadelphia. I’ll not go back to it. Ben knows all about me. I made a decision in church one Sunday. I’ll sleep on the bench. I’ll die before I go back to that life.”
Stunned that she’d revealed what she’d been and her strong conviction not to return to it, Rand stepped farther away from her as if what she had was catching. He was a drunk and had no intention of changing. None.
“Please, help me.”
A rare tug prodded his cold heart. Perhaps he wasn’t dead yet. “I’ll clean up the guest room. You can stay there. Until you find Ben or get your bearings. I got some beans. You need to eat.”
“Are they in a can?”
He looked at her.
A determine spark lit her eyes. “The beans? Are they in a can?”
He nodded.
“Good. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could eat anything that wasn’t protected from this filth.”
***
Rose shuddered. Why had she insulted him, again? He was unsteady and looked like he could slide into a rage at a moment’s notice. “If you want, I’ll cook them.” She stood. She was still weak, but she didn’t trust him to make a decent meal. “Do you have flour? Bacon?”
He shrugged. “Think so.”
“You straighten up this room. I’ll fix us some dinner.” She wanted to add that after they ate, he could tell her how he was going to find Ben. But he was as unsteady as she felt. Drunk probably. Sad, as if he’d lost his best friend a thousand times over by the look in his sorrowful brown eyes.
Before he could change his mind, she turned and made her way to the kitchen. There’d been a woman in here once. She could tell by the way the kitchen was arranged, and the care someone had taken to put up cheery curtains.
Rose pumped water in the sink, so she could clean the dishes, pots, and pans. It was going to take her an hour before she could even begin to make dinner. Well, she hadn’t eaten in several days. What difference would a couple more hours make?
He didn’t say anything. But she heard bottles clanking, furniture moving. He was doing something.
Rose tried to keep from thinking the worst. Ben had to be alive. Had to be all right. She didn’t know what would become of her if he wasn’t. She believed him to be a kind man. Just her age, too. A lot of the time those mail-order bride ads came from old men looking for young wives.
Ben had written words that put life in her heart. He’d sent her a picture right off. To let her know he wasn’t old or ugly, he’d written in explanation. She laughed. He was handsome. Tall by the way he stood by the cabin. Said he had blond hair and blue eyes. Never been married. Confessed he’d never been with a woman.
She cringed. She’d told him how she’d been born to a cheap, saloon girl, and it
hadn’t taken long for Rose to follow her mother. Dirt. That’s what she’d been born into, and that’s what she’d become. Until that day. A Sunday.
She grabbed a broken bottle and cried out as it sliced her hand. She grabbed her handkerchief and wrapped it around the cut.
Rand ran into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” He looked around and then at her. “What happened?”
Holding her hand, she grimaced as drops of blood fell onto the counter. “One of your bottles bit me.”
Concern crinkled his brows. “Let me see that.” He took her hand and unwrapped the hanky. “Looks bad. Might need a couple stitches.” He poured some whiskey over the wound and wrapped it tightly to stop the blood. “Let’s go.”
Fear stole her strength. “What, where are we going?”
“To the doctor. Deep cuts can do nasty things.” He marched to the door. “Let’s go. Don’t worry. I have money to pay the doctor.”
She picked her way across the room. It did look better, at least there was a clear path on the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll make you dinner as soon as he finishes with the stitches. I didn’t mean to cause you trouble.”
He looked at her as if she had no idea of the trouble she’d already caused him. Then he shook his head and took her good hand. “Relax. Not your fault.” He led her outside. “Can you ride?”
She nodded. “I’ve only ridden a few times.”
“I’ll put you in front of me.”
In seconds, he was on the horse and hauling her up. “Doc is just up the street.”
“Your horse was saddled. Were you going somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He heaved a disgusted sigh. “That all you can say? Don’t worry about it. As soon as your hand is stitched. I’ll do my business.”
Anger seeped from his chest. If she had anyone else to turn to, she would. The sheriff was busy with rustlers and told her he didn’t have time to chase after a missing fiancé. And then he’d looked at her with that look. As if he knew what she’d been and believed she still was.
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