The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “No,” Geraldine cried out.

  “Take her away. She doesn't need to see this.” Stephanie said, looking at Robert. And he really wished he could grant her that small favor, fully knowing he couldn't. “I am not leaving you,” Geraldine snapped in fury as she cried.

  Stephanie smiled at her daughter, looking at her face as if trying to memorize every line, every curve. “You are so beautiful; you turned into a fine young woman. I am just sorry I won't be here to see you wed and have a family of your own. Do better than me.”

  “Mother...”

  “I am sorry, Geraldine, that you didn't have a better mother. Better father as well,” and with those parting words, she started to get sleepy. “All I see is darkness,” she muttered.

  “Mother! No, please don't,” Geraldine exclaimed in panic as she started to shake the other woman. “Please, can somebody help me?”

  Robert's heart was silently breaking, watching the tragic scene in front of him unfold. Once again, he was a mere spectator as the disaster occurred right in front of his eyes, with him helpless to change anything, because Stephanie Laurel sentenced herself to death the moment she ate those poisonous mushrooms.

  “No,” Geraldine wailed as her mother died in her arms.

  Robert knelt beside them and pulled Geraldine against his body, giving her his shoulder to cry on.

  In the end, Robert found the culprit, he just wished it didn't break his love's heart in the process.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later...

  Geraldine looked at the ten-year-old tree in front of her and tried really hard not to cry. She was done with that. It was now time to say her peace and move on. She knelt at the base of it and dug a small hole with her hands. Satisfied with her work, she pulled out a bundle of letters, kissed them before placing them to the ground, then she buried them. She decided to place the childhood letters she received from her father with her father. “Goodbye Father, I love you.” She sent a little prayer to the Heavens

  She did a lot of thinking of late and decided she needed to forgive her father, forgive all of them to an extent, so she could move on with her life and find some semblance of happiness beyond this hurt.

  Getting up, she dusted herself off, and as she turned, smiled. Geraldine spotted a rider coming her way. Actually, she recognized the horse first. Of course, Geraldine wasn't going to share that with her visitor, it would simply be too cruel.

  On second thought, maybe she would. Just to tease him a bit.

  The Sheriff reached her by then and dismounted instantly, taking a few last steps toward her by foot. “Does your coming here mean you finally forgave your father?” He asked instead of a more formal greeting. Geraldine shrugged in return.

  “Somebody told me how it's not healthy holding grudges.”

  The Sheriff nodded. “That was a very wise person,” he countered, trying not to smile.

  “Indeed. I realized I cannot continue to live in the past, so here I am.”

  Geraldine looked around herself, fully knowing this was the last time she was on Elsa's ranch. Goodbye. She said her peace to her mother as well whose resting place was at their own farm. “I heard the reading of Elsa's will was held last week,” The Sheriff said conversationally.

  “It was.” Geraldine was surprised when she got the call from Elsa's attorney to attend the reading. She was even more surprised by what occurred next.

  “What are you going to do with the money?”

  Geraldine looked at him, narrowing her eyes. “You knew?” Elsa Potter left her a substantial amount of money. Apparently, he knew and kept quiet. Why?

  “Mr. Blake told me during the investigation,” he explained, and she understood his meaning. He had not been allowed to tell her. Either way, she wasn't cross at him. “I refused to accept it. I told Father Mathew he could have it with all the rest.”

  “Do you believe that was the right choice?”

  “Absolutely. I don't want anything to do with it.”

  Geraldine wasn't that forgiving to accept Elsa's money, knowing she only offered it out of a guilty conscience. The only reason Geraldine came to this darn farm every day was because of the animals. Horses were innocent. The humans were the one that created an unimaginable mess. “And what about the farm? I saw a ‘For Sale’ sign.” The Sheriff wanted to know next, and Geraldine had to chuckle. He couldn't help himself from sounding as if he was conducting an interview even when he wasn't.

  He scratched the back of his head. “Am I doing it again?” The Sheriff asked a bit sheepishly. Geraldine nodded. “But I don't mind.” She found it adorable at times. “Yes, I am selling the farm. It is all part of my plan to not live in the past anymore.”

  Her debt was finally paid in full, now she was free. Besides, Geraldine could not continue to live in Oatman either way. Even though everybody continued to treat her the same as before, good or bad, Geraldine couldn't help but notice the glances that were sent her way when people believed she wasn't looking. Here, I will always be the girl whose mother killed her father's mistress. And she couldn't live like that. “Good for you,” he replied approvingly.

  “What brings you here today?” Geraldine asked, changing the subject.

  After her mother passed and the case was officially closed, the Sheriff had to go back to Fort Mohave. To her pleasant surprise, he kept coming back to visit her. For that, she was eternally grateful. Geraldine couldn't say what she would do without him at her side. He was a source of massive support during her time of grief. He still is.

  “Oh, I have some good news to share with you.”

  “Please do.”

  “I came here today to arrest Mister Johnson.”

  She gasped, Geraldine did not see that coming. “Really? For what?”

  The Sheriff straightened his back and raised his chin ever so slightly. “I was right,” he declared. “Fergus Johnson broke several laws obtaining his last mine.”

  “Scandalous.”

  “My deputies are already in Oatman. I just came here for a quick greeting before we go to get him.”

  Geraldine couldn't believe it. “I cannot say I am heartbroken. I cannot be happy either,” she said honestly. No matter what he did to her or what kind of man he was, Fergus Johnson had a full household of people that depended on him. What will become of them all?

  “That is because you are a good person,” the Sheriff complimented, although his tone was matter of factly. “So are you,” she countered. The Sheriff brushed off the compliment just the way she knew he would.

  “Did you walk here?” He changed the subject. Geraldine nodded. It was a fine day and she didn't want to tire Whitey. He grabbed Duke's reins and together they started to walk back toward her farm.

  “What are your plans, then?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “After you sell the farm, what are your plans for the future?” He asked conversationally.

  What are my plans for the future? She asked herself. “I do not know,” she replied honestly.

  “If I may be so bold to suggest a career in law enforcement.”

  She looked at him incredulously, thinking he was teasing her. “You can always come to Fort Mohave and work at my Sheriff's office.”

  Geraldine smiled. “Sheriff Geraldine Laurel. I like the sound of that,” she joked. The Sheriff faked outrage. “So, you'll be taking my job, then?”

  “Of course,” Geraldine replied without a thought. “I am good at it, after all.” And he laughed wholeheartedly, just like she intended him to.

  “That's the thanks I get, a stabbing in the back,” he said theatrically.

  Geraldine rolled with her eyes. “Of course not, I would never do that,” she said, changing the mood a little.

  “Seriously, why not?” He prompted.

  “Even though I admit it was thrilling assisting you, I would never do that for a living.”

  “And what would you do? What do you love the most?”

  Geraldine pondered abou
t that for a moment. “Perhaps, I would like to teach,” she confessed.

  The Sheriff smiled, looking at her head to toe. “I can picture you surrounded by students.”

  “We shall see.”

  “I have faith in you, Geraldine. You can be whatever you want to be, as long as you'll be my wife as well.”

  “Excuse me?” She stopped in her tracks so she could really look at him. He was done teasing, that was obvious.

  A wife? Oh my.

  The Sheriff took hold of both her hands with his. “Geraldine, you are an amazing woman, you captured my heart from the moment you fell into my arms,” they both smiled at that, remembering how she showered him with eggs. “I love you, so what do you say? Would you like to be my wife?”

  Geraldine's eyes filled with tears. “Of course, I want to be your wife. I love you, too. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”

  Clearly not being able to contain his happiness, the Sheriff pulled her into an embrace, and she went willingly. They shared their first kiss, and Geraldine thought her heart would burst from all the intense emotions she was experiencing. She was happy beyond measure.

  Once they parted, he urged her to quicken her step. “I do not like how that cloud looks at us.” Geraldine chuckled. “It is not going to rain.”

  “We shall see when we get home.”

  And then something occurred to her and she simply could not resist teasing him. She hoped that would never change. “My dear Sheriff, if you were planning to stay on the farm, I'm afraid this engagement changes nothing,” she announced, faking seriousness.

  “How so?”

  “You will still have to pay for your room, of course.”

  “I see,” he said with a broad smile.

  “A girl has to eat.”

  The Sheriff started to say something but then reconsidered. “Are you planning on calling me “the Sheriff” for the rest of our lives?” He inquired.

  “My name is Robert, if you did not know that already.”

  “I am fully aware of your name, Sheriff, it is simply that it kind of grew on me,” she replied in all seriousness.

  He chuckled. “It kind of grew on me, too, I like it when you say it,” he added in a soft voice, embracing her again, and Geraldine knew he would never let her go.

  The End?

  Extended Epilogue

  Eager to read how Geraldine and Robert’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple!

  Simply TAP HERE to read it now for FREE! or use this link: http://www.cassidyhanton.com/2sgc directly in your browser.

  I guarantee you, that you won’t be disappointed ♥

  But before you go, turn the page for an extra sweet treat from me…

  A sweet treat from the Wild West…

  Turn on to the next page to read the first chapters of Loving a Forbidden Bride, a sweet and clean Western historical romance with a happily-ever-after!

  Loving a Forbidden Bride

  About the book

  In the midst of the storm, they still found each other...

  When her family’s old foe returns to town, Olivia Wagner’s quiet life is shattered. As the vendetta between the Wagners and the Paytons is reignited, the town prepares for yet another war.

  With his parents’ death still heavy on his shoulders, Marc Payton must take care of his sister and family ranch. Danger lurks around every corner, but things change the minute he lays his eyes on the beautiful Olivia Wagner.

  Their love is forbidden, transcending the decades-old feud...

  When a terrible “accident” occurs, Olivia and Marc must set their differences aside and unite forces. Racing against a ticking clock to rescue a helpless family from certain doom, their love will be tested...twice.

  A terrible storm is brewing extremely close to them and they don't even know it.

  Chapter One

  “Come on, Marc, the service is starting!” Clarissa Payton said to her brother as she looked towards the church.

  Marc Payton drew a heavy breath as he tied the reins securely to the post. He stroked his faithful black steed Spirit next, and made one more go at checking the fastenings, although there was no reason to. Clarissa looked kindly at her older brother with an understanding smile on her young face. It was, after all, a momentous occasion, although a rather somber one. Marc was on his way to Sunday church, for the first time since their parents, Anna and John Payton, died.

  The steps towards the church were difficult. He couldn’t shake the image of his parents’ caskets being carried out of the small white church. It still felt surreal. His parents had succumbed to a fever quite suddenly and they deteriorated fast. Marc had been studying in San Francisco when he received the telegram with the news of his parents’ ailing health. He immediately booked the train back to his hometown of Eloy, Arizona, but was too late.

  By the time he arrived, both his parents had died. His younger sister, Clarissa, greeted him at the ranch, tears streaming down her soft cheeks. He held her in his arms as the reality washed over him. His parents were gone… And now, the family cattle farm, the Blue Willow Ranch, was his responsibility.

  As he walked up the church steps, the parishioners stared at him, not too subtly. He noticed William Carter, his father’s old friend, and his wife, Sylvia, smiling kindly at him as he entered. He took off his Stetson, making his dark hair fall over his eyes, and looked around for his sister, who had already taken her seat.

  Clarissa had changed much in the years Marc had been in San Francisco. She had been just a kid when he left, but now she was a young woman. But Marc thought that she was too naive, and she was much too interested in giggling with her girlfriends and writing letters all day long.

  Clarissa was sitting next to her friend, Sarah Carlson. They had been friends since they were little girls; Sarah was the daughter of the church verger, Timothy Carlson. She had inherited her father’s flaming red hair and, unfortunately for her, her father’s looks as well. She had a kind nature and always became very flustered around Marc.

  Marc was very tall and muscular, with piercing green eyes, just like his father. He had, however, his mother's jet black hair, the same as his sister, who was the spitting image of their mother, with pale blue eyes. He was articulate and always seemed to gain the attention of the young women in Eloy. Even here, at church, they would put their heads together and whisper as they took a look at him, giggling softly, their cheeks rosy from blushing.

  He paid them no attention. Marc was in no way an old man, but since he’d been back, he often felt as if he had lived far longer than his years. The recent burden of taking care of the farm, and especially taking care of his sister, was trying. Although he seemed to have the aptitude and mentality required for taking care of a ranch, he just hadn’t imagined doing this so soon.

  He looked ahead toward the altar, and in an instant, he was transported back to a few weeks ago when he’d last been here. The whole town had shown up to the funeral. Even the Wagner brothers, Andy and Frank, had been there.

  The Wagners lived on the neighboring ranch, the Rosewood Ranch. For as long as Marc could remember, there had been bad blood between the two ranches. It had all begun years and years ago when he was just a little boy. Someone had poisoned their well, and Marc’s father was sure the brothers’ father, Roy Wagner, was behind it.

  Marc’s family had lost a lot of cattle, and the Wagners had profited from their loss. Roy Wagner had always vehemently denied the accusations and was absolutely furious that they would even suggest it. This rivalry was known to everyone in town and the decedents had inherited the feud. Marc had cared much more about it when he was a boy. It had seemed logical and the right thing to do — to honor the family feud.

  But now, he could not really bring himself to care too much about it. It was a part of the past. And since both Roy Wagner and his wife were gone now, just like his parents, he didn’t see the benefit of fueling the flames of this fire. Marc had a calm demeanor
and was a stoic soul. He definitely had not inherited his father’s wild temperament.

  As he walked down the church aisle to sit next to his sister, the familiar organ music began. Predictably, Sarah’s face became a deep shade of red as she noticed Marc. He chuckled quietly as he looked away from her, to spare her even more embarrassment. He looked up, expecting to see old Graves, the church organist, but saw instead a young, beautiful woman playing.

  A sunbeam streamed through the high window at the ceiling which cast a magical glow around her. Her long blonde hair curled slightly at the ends, framing her trim figure. It appeared as if it was flecked with gold and she looked angelic. Her face had a delicate beauty to it and her brown eyes were the color of chestnuts.