The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “Yes…” Marc replied. “But you know I don’t like riding on your own to town,” he added, causing the hopeful look on his sister's face to falter slightly.

  “Come now, son, she’s nearly twenty,” William said.

  “What do you say about if she comes twice a week and helps us around the store. Then she rides in daylight, and you can join us for dinner and ride with her back home?” Sylvia suggested.

  “And who knows, perhaps this would help you find a wife,” Sylvia teased. “You won’t meet anyone cooped up on that ranch. At least this way you have to ride to town more often.”

  “Stop this, Sylvia,” William admonished his wife. “Marc will find a wife when he is ready.”

  Marc smiled gratefully at William. The ladies from the church society had not stopped mentioning his lack of a wife since he returned from San Francisco.

  “Alright,” Marc finally said. “Should we say the day after tomorrow?”

  “Excellent!” William said.

  “Thank you,” Clarissa said, her face filled with gratitude.

  Chapter Four

  “Olivia!” a voice bellowed outside. “Olivia!” Andy Wagner called again.

  Olivia Wagner was sitting at the piano, completely immersed in the music. She had her eyes closed, as she knew the music by heart, and her arms swayed with the movement of the melody. Schumann was her absolute favorite composer. The music spoke to her very core, as if he had somehow written the piece especially for her. Her long, elegant fingers skidded gracefully up and down the keyboard, and she was one with the harmony.

  “Olivia!” Andy called, yet again, this time closer to the house.

  The music stopped abruptly and hurried footsteps could be heard running outside. Andy stood outside the house, carrying a large hammer, the one he used to secure the pegs of their fence. He saw a blonde figure appear at the front door, running towards him.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Olivia said.

  “Olivia!” he said exasperatedly. “You mustn’t let your head get swept up to the clouds.”

  “Oh, I was completely engulfed with my playing, I really am sorry,” Olivia said, looking away from her brother.

  “When will you leave to see your young friend, Katie?” Andy asked, a slight edge to his voice.

  “Very soon,” Olivia replied, guiltily. She was going to see her good friend Katie Wetherby, whose mother was the town’s seamstress, but she’d completely lost track of time as she was playing the Schumann sonata.

  “You better get going. You should not be riding home in the dark,” Andy said.

  “You’re right, I will go at once,” Olivia replied.

  Olivia hurried back into the house and gathered up her sewing bag and a pie she had made. She put on her riding jacket and tied the bow of her hat tightly beneath her chin. When she walked outside again, Andy had brought her horse out from the stable.

  “Thank you,” she said, giving him a dazzling smile.

  “You be careful now,” Andy said helping her up on her horse. “And remember…”

  “To ride home before sunset,” Olivia finished. “I know.”

  “All right then,” he smiled.

  Olivia kicked the horse softly and it got moving. Turning her head, she saw her brother stand watching her ride away. She knew he would stand and watch her until she was out of sight.

  She rode across the fields, and as she made a slight turn, she could hear the river that ran between the two ranches. She often sat by it, in a secluded clearing above her home, reading the latest novel her Aunt Mary had sent her. I believe the time has come for mother’s journal. I need to know what she would say to me.

  * * *

  Olivia slowed down as she rode into the main town street. She rode past the church and the Carters’ General Store, past the saloon, which she’d never gone inside, and past the post office. She hoped she would receive a parcel from dear Aunt Mary soon; she’d promised to send her a new book in her last letter. Finally, she rounded a corner to the Wetherby home. She tied her gentle horse to a hitching post and stroked its head sweetly.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” she whispered to the horse. She walked into the house, causing a tingle from the bell above the entrance door.

  A round-looking woman, with dark hair tied in a tight bun, wearing a long prairie skirt, and a high buttoned shirt with detailed embroidery on the neck and sleeves, looked up from the small wooden stool she sat at, with pins in her mouth and a measuring tape in her hand.

  “Hello dear,” she said with her mouth half-closed so as to not drop the pins. “Katie’s in the back,” she said, gesturing to the end of the shop with her head.

  “Why, Miss Wagner, what an honor it is!” said a man standing in front of Mrs. Wetherby, who was measuring his trouser leg.

  “Oh, Mr. Thorndike,” Olivia said. “How very nice to see you.”

  Webster Thorndike was her old music teacher. He taught her piano and organ when she was younger, before her father died. Now he lived on a farm on the outskirts of the county with his wife, Alice. He was an eccentric man, but Olivia had always liked him.

  “I heard you playing at church on Sunday,” he said kindly. “You were wonderful!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Thorndike,” Olivia said her cheeks growing red. “I owe it all to your excellent guidance.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that; you play as if you’ve been touched by an angel, I’d say,” Webster said.

  “You’re too kind,” Olivia replied, feeling awkward because of his praise. “I brought you pie, Mrs. Wetherby,” she said, mostly to change the subject, going to her bag to bring out the cloth-covered pie.

  “Oh, Olivia, you shouldn’t have,” Mrs. Wetherby said gratefully, dropping a few pins as she spoke.

  “I’ll leave it at the back,” Olivia said.

  At that, Katie Wetherby, Olivia’s closest friend, appeared in the doorway at the back of the shop.

  “I thought I heard your voice,” she said with a huge smile.

  “You girls get sewing now,” Mrs. Wetherby said, forestalling Webster from continuing to speak with Olivia.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Olivia said, hiding her grin at the look of disappointment on Mr. Thorndike’s face.

  They walked to the back, into the workroom, arm in arm. Olivia didn’t have many friends, as she spent most of her time at the ranch, but Katie had been her closest confidant since Olivia could remember. They helped out in the church whenever they could, and now they were finishing a quilt for the Green family, a desperately poor family with five children that lived outside the town in a small shack.

  Katie fetched a basket underneath the big table and brought out the quilt they were half-finished with. They were making it from scraps of material from their homes and cutouts from Mrs. Wetherby. The pattern on the quilt was a medallion, with a flying geese border. They didn’t have the same color for the entire border, but Katie had managed to embroider the off-color squares, which made for an attractive feature.

  Olivia was a fine sewer, but Katie was a true artist with a needle. Olivia opened her bag and pulled out the squares she had been working on at home.

  “Oh, these look lovely Olivia,” Katie exclaimed.

  “I’m not as talented as you are,” Olivia said, regarding the delicate embroidery on Katie’s squares.

  “Hush now, you’re too humble,” Katie said with a smile. “What I would give to cook the way you do or play the piano. When I play it’s as if my fingers are battling each other, and the sound is the battle cry from the piano,” she finished with a laugh.

  Olivia laughed with her, and when they started laughing it was difficult to stop. Finally, their laughter died out, and Olivia wiped tears from her eyes.

  “I think we will make good progress today,” Olivia said stroking over the quilt, finding an end to begin sewing.

  “Not too fast. I like your company too much, my dear friend,” Katie smiled at her friend.

  Katie was very
similar to Olivia in appearance. They were the same height, and Katie was slim like Olivia was. The main difference was that Katie had light brown hair that she usually kept in a braid and although Katie was a pretty girl, she paled in comparison to Olivia. Katie always had a twinkle in her eye, had a quick tongue, and more often than not the two girls sat together unable to stop giggling.

  “I need to be careful not to stay out too late,” Olivia said as she pulled the needle through the soft material. “You know Andy doesn’t want me to ride alone in the dark.”

  “Yes, you could meet a tall, handsome cowboy who would whisk you off your feet,” Katie said jokingly.

  But at her joke, a clear image of Marc Payton was conjured up in her mind. She blushed at the image and focused on her needlework.

  “Why are you blushing? My silly jokes usually make you laugh not blush,” Katie asked, curiously.

  Olivia looked at her friend, biting her lip, wondering if she ought to talk about it. She stood up to peer out the door to the store, making sure Mrs. Wetherby wasn’t in earshot. She pushed the door almost completely close and turned around to face Katie again.

  “What’s going on?” Katie asked, looking excited.

  “Last Sunday, at church,” Olivia said very quietly, “Marc Payton was looking at me…” her voice trailed off, and she looked embarrassed.

  “He was looking at you?” Katie asked.

  “Oh, maybe I’m being silly,” Olivia apologized.

  “No, no, please tell more,” Katie said.

  “When I was playing, he was there, in the church. I hadn’t seen him since he came back, and… He’s very handsome,” Olive giggled.

  “And??” Katie asked excitedly.

  “And he, well I looked up when pastor Ruggles began his sermon, and he was looking at me intently. When I peeked a glance in his direction again, he was still watching me,” she finished somewhat dreamily, thinking about his piercing green eyes.

  “How romantic!” Katie replied. Olivia smiled at the memory.

  “Did he speak with you?” Katie asked after a short silence.

  “No!” Olivia said startled at the thought. “I would never talk to him, at least not around Andy.”

  “Why not?” Katie asked exasperatedly.

  “You know why; I can’t disrespect my family like that!” Olivia replied.

  “But Olivia, that was years and years ago. You weren’t even born when it happened,” Katie said.

  “That doesn’t matter. You know how important it was to my father, and how important this is to Andy,” Olivia replied, sadly. “My father could never forgive the Paytons for their accusation. They never had any proof, only nasty allegations… At least that’s how Andy tells me it was. Father never talked to me about this,” Olivia said. The two girls sewed in silence for a while, Olivia deep in thought.

  When Marc looked at me, I felt as if I had been dropped into one of my romance novels. I felt a tingle inside, and his eyes were piercing...

  “How did it feel when you saw him looking at you,” Katie said as if she’d read her mind.

  Olivia giggled and thought about the warmth of the blush that she’d felt when she noticed him looking at her. “It felt like he could only see me, and no one else,” Olivia said.

  “I wish something like that would happen to me,” Katie sighed.

  “Your very own tall, handsome cowboy,” Olivia joked.

  “If only,” Katie said with a mock sigh. “Can you image my mother’s reaction if someone as handsome as Marc Payton came to whisk me off my feet? She would probably demand to go with us,” Katie said, grumpily.

  Olive burst out laughing, and Katie laughed with her. The door to the workroom opened, and Mrs. Wetherby walked in, and they stopped laughing at once.

  “Girls!” she exclaimed. “You will never finish the quilt at the rate you’re sewing now!”

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” Katie said.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Wetherby,” Olivia said.

  “Now hurry up girls, Olivia will soon need to leave,” Mrs. Wetherby said sternly.

  “Yes ma’am,” they both said.

  Mrs. Wetherby left the room, muttering something about girls and giggling on her way back. Katie and Olivia picked up the pace and sewed one square after another.

  “I think we will finish the quilt the next time you come over,” Katie said, observing their progress.

  “I hope so,” Olivia said, “I want to get this to the Greens before it starts getting too cold. I can’t bear the thought of all those children in that cold shack.”

  “I know,” Katie said. “If we both finish the border squares at home, we should be able to finish it next time.”

  “Good idea!”

  “You should get going now,” Katie said, looking out of the window to the sky. “It will be dark soon.”

  “You’re right,” Olivia said. “I will be back in two days.”

  They began clearing the table. Katie divided the border squares and gave half to Olivia, who put it in her bag with her sewing kit. Katie gently folded the quilt and returned it to the basket, under the table. The two friends hugged each other.

  “Have a safe ride home, and send all tall, handsome cowboys in my direction,” Katie laughed.

  “Only the very best deserve you, my darling friend,” Olivia said laughing. “Not some unruly cowboys.”

  They hugged again and bade each other goodbye. Olivia walked to the store end, where Mrs. Wetherby was cutting fabric with large silver scissors. “I hope you girls made some progress with the quilt,” she said, admonishingly.

  “We did,” Olivia smiled sweetly. “We will finish it soon.”

  “That’s good,” she grinned. “Have a safe journey home.”

  Olivia left the Wetherby home with a tinkle of the bell above the door. She walked to her horse, which was lazily eating grass. She untied the reigns from the hatching post and secured her bag to the saddle before she pulled herself on top of the horse. She gently pushed her heels into the horse’s side and began riding on the road out of town.

  * * *

  Olivia slowed down as she entered the farmyard. Andy was inside the stable, pitchforking hay. She jumped off the horse and led it into the stable. She removed the saddle and reins, stroking the horse’s mane as she guided it into the stall, then hurried inside to begin preparing dinner.

  The stew simmered lazily on the stove, and she cut bread into equal size pieces. As the food cooked, she sat down and continued her needlework on the border squares.

  Soon after, Andy came in looking tired. He slumped down onto the chair in the sitting room and began stuffing his pipe with tobacco. Both Olivia and Andy looked up as they heard the front door open. Frank walked in, taking off his hat and looking tired.

  “Where have you been?” Andy asked sternly.

  “I was out riding,” Frank replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. “It smells wonderful,” he smiled at his sister.

  “Thank you, dear, dinner is almost ready,” Olivia said sweetly.

  “Where were you riding?” Andy persisted. “And for so long?”

  Frank looked at the floor for a moment, then at his brother. “I thought I heard a coyote, so I rode much farther than I had anticipated,” he finally said.

  “Did you find it?” Andy asked.

  “No, nothing,” Frank said with an odd look.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Olivia said as she put away her sewing and walked to the kitchen. Frank sure is behaving strangely, Olivia thought, but didn’t want to speculate. He was probably just hungry.

  Want to know how the story ends? Tap on the link below to read the rest of the story.

  https://amzn.to/2Ll0LTt

  Thank you very much!

  Also by Cassidy Hanton

  Thank you for reading The Sheriff’s Rebellious Bride!

  I really hope you liked reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it ♥

  If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean
the world to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read!

  Some other best sellers of mine:

  Loving a Forbidden Bride

  An Unconventional Bride for the Rancher

  Finding the Broken Cowboy

  Also, if you liked this book, you can also check out my full Amazon Book Catalogue HERE.

  Thank you for being part of my journey!

  Cassidy

  About the Author

  Born overlooking the Jefferson river in Montana, Cassidy Hanton has always been attracted to the nature of the West. As the only girl of six siblings, her mother used to tell her stories that she later on discovered they came from her favorite romance novels.

  With a double major in Philosophy and Creative Writing, Cassidy started writing contemporary romances, only to realize that the American Frontier Era was her favourite. That was back in 2008. Now, she writes overlooking another Montana river and a beautiful ranch that she shares with her husband and three children.

  Cassidy delved into the Western Frontier history and the local native stories only to provide her readers with the intrigue and authenticity of the era. She hopes her stories satisfy their thirst for love and adventure and inspire them to live every day with a smile.