“Smart man,” Sheriff Owen replied approvingly. “That is a useful skill. You never know when you could need it, especially if you are in some kind of danger and need to get away, fast.” It looked like he spoke out of experience.
Yes, I am full of useful skills, Hope thought to herself. She was certain escaping from danger was not what was on Robert Trousdale’s mind when he bought Hope’s first horse, Candy. She did not contradict Sheriff Owen, simply smiled and nodded.
Needing to change the subject since she didn’t want him to start questioning her about her family, Hope asked one of her own. She was a terrible liar and did not want to be forced to lie to him.
“How long have you been Rippingate’s Sheriff?”
“Three years now.” All kinds of emotions crossed his face while he was saying that, pride, worry, joy, yet Hope did not have enough time to decipher them all before he smoothed his features.
“Do you like it?” Hope asked, since everything about him fascinated her.
“Love it,” Sheriff Owen replied instantly. “It’s the best job in the world.”
“Truly?” She asked dubiously. She was certain being the Sheriff had its rewards but it was also a rather difficult and dangerous job.
“It is not without its challenges,” he allowed.
“Dangerous, as well.”
“Of course. However, I can’t picture myself doing anything else.” Hope really appreciated his honesty and his words made her think. It was obvious he was truly passionate about his work. Just like Daddy is passionate about his, she couldn’t help make the comparison.
What it would be like to be passionate about something so completely? She wondered with a dash of longing. Hope was never that sure about something in her entire life. She did one thing she was completely sure of, she remembered. And that was running away from home. That was a first for her.
This was different, though. Sheriff Owen found his calling as did her dad. She enjoyed many things. Loved? Been completely consumed?
Never.
They continued to pleasantly chat as they rode, and Hope was genuinely surprised how comfortable she was in Sheriff Owen’s company. Must be because he is the Sheriff, she tried to rationalize. She was not that convincing. It was because of him, the way he acted, the way he talked, looked at her, it spoke to her on a deeper level, as if she was lost and now found.
All right, you’re starting to speak utter nonsense now. Hope was embarrassed at herself.
Whatever the reason, Sheriff Owen reminded her of Kith in a way. Not that she wished the Sheriff was her cousin, it was just that apart from Kith, no other man even enticed such feelings out of her. She was comfortable to be herself around him, and that meant the world to her. Especially since she was brought up to always mind her manners, and never show her true feelings. It was freeing. And she hoped the Sheriff would become a good friend to her one day. That last part did not sit well with her. She ignored it.
Suddenly, the Sheriff’s posture changed, gone was the relaxed man she was just starting to get to know. He grew serious, rigid. Hope did not have the time to question this sudden change since he announced. “We are here.”
It took Hope a second to remember where they were going in the first place. She was so consumed in their conversation she completely forgot about Mr. Dalbow.
Shame on you.
Sheriff Owen nodded with his head and Hope looked in the pointed direction. She could just barely see a small house in the distance, surrounded by secondary structures that were required on any farm.
“So I see.”
They traveled the remaining distance in silence. A man came out of the house when they were about halfway there, and started to slowly approach them. It was apparent by his demeanor he was not expecting company. Hope swallowed and loud. Sheriff Owen turned to look at her, clearly sensing her nervousness yet did not comment on it, and Hope was grateful.
Hope refocused on the owner of the house. He was of middle height and body as far as she could tell from afar, with a black beard that was going slightly gray to the sides. The same could be said for his hair. Those features did not suggest he was middle-aged. He was Hope’s senior by ten years, she already knew that thanks to his letter.
If this is Mr. Dalbow at all, she hedged. It could very well be one of the workers on the ranch, for all she knew.
Either way, Hope’s heart raced a bit and her palms started to sweat, making her grip the reins even harder.
Calm yourself. That was not easily achievable.
“Good day, Sheriff,” the man greeted them with a smile. “What a surprise.”
“Good day, Mr. Dalbow,” the Sheriff greeted back.
So this is Mr. Dalbow, oh my.
“What caused this unexpected visit?” Mr. Dalbow wanted to know.
The Sheriff dismounted so Hope followed suit.
“I am simply a guide at the moment, nothing more,” Sheriff Owen explained, glancing at Hope.
Hope corrected her posture and took a deep breath, plastering a pleasant smile on her face.
You only have one chance at first impressions, she reminded herself.
“Really?” Mr. Dalbow replied, eyeing Hope with mild interest.
Hope approached the man. “Good day, Mr. Dalbow, my name is Hope Trousdale,” she introduced herself, not waiting for the Sheriff to do that in her stead.
Mr. Dalbow’s eyes grew larger when recognition hit him. “Miss Hope Trousdale,” he repeated. “Is it really you?” He closed the small distance between them and kissed her hand. “Welcome, welcome to my humble home. I hope you traveled well. You look like you could use a bit of rest,” he rushed his words so, Hope had trouble to keep up.
Then Mr. Dalbow turned to look at the Sheriff. “Thank you, my dear Sheriff, for bringing Miss Hope here, to me. I offer my utmost gratitude. I am forever in your debt.”
Sheriff Owen nodded. “It was my pleasure.” The way he looked at Hope suggested there was some hidden meaning there in that simple sentence. Hope refocused on her host.
“It is nice to meet you, too,” she said simply, offering a small smile.
“I am utterly overjoyed you are here, in front of me,” then he frowned. “Were there any difficulties on your journey?”
“Only mild,” Hope refrained from explaining everything that happened to her, fully knowing there would be plenty of time later for her to tell Mr. Dalbow her story.
“Good. I have to admit I was a bit worried when you did not appear on the day we agreed upon,” he confessed and Hope panicked. The date they set was the one Jessamine and she picked together. Jessamine was the one who was supposed to visit the ranch then and send word back to Hope if Mr. Dalbow was a true gentleman and trustworthy. As it turned out, none of that happened. Hope wondered why that meeting never occurred.
“As I said, there were some mild troubles on the way here,” Hope repeated.
Sheriff Owen was looking at her without looking away, and there was a slight frown on his face. He knows I am omitting a great deal, she feared.
“Well, you are here now, and that is all that matters,” Mr. Dalbow decided to put that matter to rest.
That was close.
“You must be exhausted” he said with concern. “Do come in. My house is your house.” It was meant as a joke. The implications were more than apparent. She was there to become his wife, after all.
Will I?
“Sheriff,” Mr. Dalbow turned to the other man as though he just remembered he was still there. “Would you care to come in as well?” He offered.
Sheriff Owen looked at Hope then shook his head. “No, thank you. My work here is done.”
“Thank you again.” Mr. Dalbow said and Hope added her own version of the same.
“No problem.” The Sheriff said to them in return.
“Shall we?” Mr. Dalbow asked her.
Even though the pleasantries were over, nobody moved. It was apparent the men waited for Hope to act or say something. Hope h
esitated for a few heartbeats.
Do I really want to go into this stranger’s home? Because there was no escaping the fact that this man, however pleasant he appeared to be, was a stranger to her. The words they exchanged could not change that.
The time for second-guessing yourself is long past, she snapped at herself. Then something else occurred to her. The Sheriff not only knew Mr. Dalbow but offered to personally escort her to his ranch. He would not do that if Mr. Dalbow wasn’t a good man, she was sure of that much. With that, her mind settled.
Hope would go along with her initial mission and be a true Mail Order Bride and get to know Mr. Dalbow, Wyatt, she corrected herself, a little bit better.
All that and more crossed her mind in mere seconds. “Thank you, Mr. Dalbow. It was a rather tiring journey.” Hope said eventually.
“Please, call me Wyatt, Miss Hope.” He offered generously and she nodded in kind. “Let me get this for you,” he took her bag from the Sheriff.
“Thank you,” Hope said politely.
They said their goodbyes to the Sheriff, and Hope made the first step toward the house.
“Miss Hope?” Sheriff Owen stopped her.
“Yes?” She returned instantly.
“A quick word, if you please.”
“Certainly,” she returned at his side while Mr. Dalbow watched them with interest. “Is there something wrong?” She inquired with concern.
“No. Just be careful, all right,” he said in a hushed tone, making Hope frown in return.
Careful? Of what?
Sheriff Owen glanced toward Mr. Dalbow making his meaning perfectly clear. So he did not trust him entirely. Or was he simply concerned about propriety? She decided it was the latter. Hope wanted to reassure him that nothing improper was going to happen. Sadly, could not find words so she simply nodded.
“I will come in a couple of days to take you to the Reynolds ranch,” he promised.
“Thank you, Sheriff, that means a great deal to me,” she insisted.
With that settled, Sheriff Owen mounted his horse. For the briefest of moments, he looked between Hope and Mr. Dalbow.
Why does he look so sad all of a sudden?
“You can keep Riley,” he gestured to the other animal. “I’m sure Kit won’t mind,” he delivered with a small smile.
Hope had no idea who this Kit was, yet she said, “That is mighty kind of you, and Kit as well.”
“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Dalbow added curtly.
Nodding, The Sheriff departed. With a practiced movement, he urged his horse to move. He complimented her skills on horseback when he was equally impressive.
“I must say again how happy I am you came,” Mr. Dalbow made her refocus on him. “I tried to picture how would you look based on your lovely letters but my limited imagination did not do you justice,” he said flatteringly.
“You are too kind.”
They started walking toward the house. This is actually happening, she thought in a bit of a daze. Suddenly everything felt too real to her. It was all fine and dandy when it was all theoretical, in her head. That time passed and she was here now.
Hope could not help herself and spared one final glance toward the rider that was galloping away from her.
Did I make the right decision?
10
Owen hated Wyatt Dalbow. He gave his horse another kick so he would go even faster. He wanted off of that damn ranch as soon as possible.
Hate was perhaps too strong of a word. Detested? Despised? Disliked? Owen tested the words to see if they fit better. He made Owen sick to his stomach? Those were all exaggerations.
Get a grip on yourself, Owen ordered, gritting his teeth.
It was true he did not like the man, and never did. Now he had another reason. Or was it the first true reason? He pondered.
Jealousy doesn’t become you. Regardless, Owen did not care.
Owen never liked Wyatt Dalbow. From the moment they met, Owen felt something was off with the other man. Truth be told, Owen never quite understood why that was the case. There was just something about Wyatt that made Owen extremely wary. Owen could not put his finger on it. Maybe his aura was simply off-putting, if that made any sense.
And apparently, Owen was the only one who had such an opinion about the rancher. The rest of the town adored him. Wyatt Dalbow was the light of the party any time he showed up to some of the town’s celebrations. A fair amount of female members of Rippingate paid him extra attention as well, swooning over him as if he singlehandedly put the Moon up in the sky. Any one of them would die to become Mrs. Dalbow.
So why bother with a Mail Order Bride if he already had a fair number of girls in Rippingate to choose from? The sudden thought made him additionally aggravated. He couldn’t go there, not yet.
At first, it bothered Owen to no end why he was of one opinion and everybody else was of another. With time, he learned to let it go.
You can’t be friends with everybody.
Meeting Miss Hope, learning why she came to Rippingate, made those buried notions come back to the surface and with a vengeance. His gut feeling never wronged him before, so perhaps there was more to Wyatt Dalbow than met the eye.
You just wished that, so you would have a legitimate cause to dislike the guy, he told himself sternly.
The only reason Owen managed to leave Miss Hope with Wyatt was by reminding himself how well respected and liked Wyatt was in their community; and how Owen was simply jealous. Besides, even if there was something fishy going on, Wyatt would not be so stupid to do anything now that Owen was involved. Escorting Miss Hope to the ranch was the right decision. Even if Wyatt Dalbow was a respectable gentleman, he now knew Miss Hope was under the Sheriff’s protection. And that could change everything.
Having all those thoughts did not help to improve his mood. A bad feeling Owen got from the moment he mounted his horse and started riding back to Rippingate did not subside all day.
Owen warned Miss Hope to be careful. He would not remain idle either, he decided. Maybe he was simply being overprotective, which he had no right to be since he just met the girl. Either way, he promised himself he would keep an eye on the happy couple. Especially Wyatt, he stressed, since Owen did not trust the other man and wanted Miss Hope to remain safe. All that rationalization helped him calm down a little, if only fractionally.
“You are in a piss-poor mood,” Kit observed once Owen returned to the station. A part of him wished to continue riding but the rational part of him that was nagging at him about the amount of work he left behind to escort Miss Hope to the ranch, brought him back. He would feel too guilty to take a personal day simply because he was feeling a bit restless when there were people out there that needed his help and protection. Sheriff first.
Owen simply looked at his deputy without a word. Yes, I am in a bad mood, so stay back, his glare was saying. And it was only going to get worse with time, especially if Kit continued to heckle him.
Owen sat behind his desk trying to distract his crazy thoughts with actual work. Kit followed him like a predator sensing blood.
“So,” he started conversationally, wearing the most pleasant of smiles. “Did you escort the lovely young lady to the hotel?” He asked sweetly. Owen felt like punching him. He did not, however, he did ignore him as if he was not there.
“What happened?” Kit demanded, finally realizing the seriousness of the situation. “I haven’t seen you this clenched since Marv Clermont almost burned down half of the town with his pyromancy performance during President’s Day.” Kit only half joked.
“Nothing happened,” Owen replied through gritted teeth. He was simply exaggerating for no apparent reason. Rationally, Owen had no idea why he was acting in such a manner. He barely knew the girl, just met her, knew nothing about her apart from her name and the fact she was to be married. Owen clenched his hands into fists.
What is your problem? He asked himself. So what if she’s here to marry Wyatt Dalbow? That is of no concern t
o you. His whole body screamed, wholeheartedly disagreeing.
“I can see that,” Kit replied sarcastically.
Owen sighed. It was not Kit’s fault he clearly lost his mind. He started to debate if he should tell Kit everything about what was actually troubling him. Not while they were in the station, surrounded by other deputies, but later, over a drink or two. That may be wise. If he wanted to keep the last shred of sanity he was left with.
“Kit—” He did not manage to utter anything else since his other deputy decided to join in the party.
The Redemption 0f A Hunted Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 9
