by Vivi Holt
Ed shook his head. His deputies never did well when there wasn’t enough to keep them occupied. Things had been quiet around town lately, and they’d run down every lead they had on the Miller Gang, to no avail. Since the stagecoach that had brought Hattie to town was robbed, nothing much had happened – just a few altercations involving drunken townsfolk, and boundary disputes between ranchers.
He marched out the door of the office and down the street. Thunderclouds gathered ominously overhead and he squinted up at the sky. He hoped it would rain – they sure needed it. Most likely the clouds would be blown off by the hot summer wind and they’d miss out again. This wasn’t Virginia, where summer rain was normal – California got it in the winter, if it got it at all.
His mind strayed to thoughts of the church picnic, to Hattie Stout and the dance they’d shared. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, since that evening. Her touch was pure pleasure, her eyes doorways to Heaven. He’d tried to keep his distance, to convince himself she’d never look at him as anything other than the dusty sheriff of a dustier town that she’d once passed through. He knew better than to hope for more. And yet, hope was exactly the thing eating him up inside.
Just then he saw Hattie round the corner, headed in his direction. Her head was down and her bonnet flapped in the breeze. She held it in place with one hand and her skirts with the other as wind howled down the center of the street, buffeting her along with the rest of the pedestrians. A basket was slung over one arm, held snug against her side.
When she reached him, she looked up and her eyes sparked with recognition. “Sheriff, how nice to see you. Are you well?” Her voice was tense and her smile tight.
“Fine, thank you, Miss Stout. And you?” She looked beautiful, her hazel eyes wide and her skin glowing under the stormy light, the wind whipped her hair in every direction..
“Also fine, thank you.” Her gaze dropped and she sighed.
“What is it?” he asked, stepping closer. He wished he could wrap his arms around her, but kept his distance.
“It’s just … it’s… well, I don’t know what’s to become of me.” She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands, sobbing dejectedly.
He frowned and rested a hand on her shoulder. She looked so sorrowful and alone, he could bear it no longer. He put his arms around her, and with a loud cry she fell against him, pressing her cheek to his shirt and clutching the fabric with both hands. “What is it? What’s happened?” he whispered against her hair.
She didn’t respond, just cried harder.
“Everythin’s gonna be fine. It’s all gonna work out, you’ll see.” He lifted a hand to stroke the back of her head.
“No, it’s not. I don’t have anywhere to go, no one who loves me. My parents sent me away, and now Sally … oh, I can’t stay at the saloon. I just can’t.”
Ed took a slow breath. What had happened at the saloon to upset her so much? Admittedly, she had reason to be a little emotional. She was married to an outlaw, her entire family was still back east – she had reason to feel like she was all alone in the world, though as beautiful as she was it wasn’t likely she’d stay that way for long. He should comfort her, say something to make her feel better. But what?
“Don’t fret, Miss Stout – soon we’ll have Jack Miller under lock and key, and you can be rid of him. Likely you’ll meet a handsome cowboy to marry before too much time passes. There’s plenty of good fellows ‘round these parts, lookin’ for a pretty young woman to grace their homes – oof!”
His eyebrows arched high in surprise as she pushed him violently away. “Well, thank you for that, I’m sure, Sheriff,” she sniffed, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to dry her nose and eyes.
He frowned. She seemed upset by what he’d said, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure why. “I only meant that you’re a mighty fine catch …”
She interrupted him with a frigid look that sent a chill down his spine. “As I said, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way. Sally sent me to buy more flour and I haven’t much time.” She lowered her head, put a hand on her bonnet and leaned into the wind as she continued down the street toward the mercantile.
Ed watched her go in confusion. It was obvious she’d been hurt by his words, but the why of it completely evaded him. He’d meant to compliment her, but instead seemed to have offended. Dagnabit, he never did know how to speak to women. He shook his head, shoved his hands deep into his pockets and continued on his way.
Chapter 6
Hattie plunged the stick into the butter churn, lifted it high and sent it deep into the milk once again. She sighed and ran the back of her wrist across her forehead, wiping away the line of perspiration. It was hard work, but she didn’t mind. It had taken her a while to learn to do it well, but once she did, she liked the rhythm of it. And the mindlessness gave her a chance to think, which she certainly needed.
The church picnic had been such a wonderful evening. She’d left the lantern-dotted field with her heart soaring and her mind filled with images of herself and the sheriff dancing, his strong arms holding her steady. But even so, the idea of leaving Coloma always hovered in the back of her mind.
What about the sheriff?
And what about her husband?
She continued churning – the butter and her thoughts.
There was a knock on the kitchen door. Ed walked in and her heart leaped into her throat. “Sheriff! How nice to see you.” She smoothed her hair back from her face as her pulse galloped. Just the sight of him made her knees go weak, especially when she recalled him holding her in the middle of the street when she’d broken down in tears.
Then she remembered what he’d said, and her stomach lurched –not to worry, she’d likely find some miner or farmer to marry her. He’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t see himself doing it. Then why had he danced with her, held her so close?
“Good to see you also, Hattie. Do you … mind if I call you that?” He took off his hat and turned it in his weathered hands.
She nodded. “No, not at all.”
“You can call me Ed. If you’d like.”
“I would.” She nodded approvingly, leaned the stick against the side of the churn and wiped her hands on her apron. “Tea?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” She poured a glass of iced tea and handed it to him, and he took it with a smile, his eyes sparkling. “Thank you.” With a few swallows, he finished it, then set the empty glass down on the nearby table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Delicious.”
She licked her lips and clasped her hands in front of her skirts. “So what can I do for you … Ed?”
He scuffed the toe of his boot against the floor. “Hattie, I guess I was just wonderin’… well, if you’d let me court you? Generally speakin’, I’d ask your pa about somethin’ like that. But seeing as how he ain’t here, I’m askin’ you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, that is … um … yes, I would like that. Only …” She felt she should remind him that she was, technically, married. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. All she wanted was to walk out that door with Ed and never come back to the saloon. If she sent him away … well, according to Daisy he was the only reason Sally didn’t force her into a life of sin.
He grinned and slapped his hat back on. “That’s wonderful. Well, how about a walk, then?”
“What? Now? I mean, I have to churn this butter, so…”
Mrs. Patterson the cook ambled into the kitchen and hung her bonnet on a peg by the door. She stopped when she saw the sheriff and wiped her hands on her apron. “Sheriff Milton, what a pleasant surprise.”
“Hello, Mrs. Patterson. You’re looking mighty handsome today. Did you change your hair?”
Hattie tipped her head to one side – he certainly could be charming when he felt the need.
Mrs. Patterson’s eyelids fluttered. “You honey-tongued devil, you,” she stammered, patting her wispy blonde-gray locks.
�
��I was just about to take Hattie for a walk. You don’t mind, do you?”
Mrs. Patterson shook her head quickly. “Of course not. You young folk go outside and enjoy the sunshine. I’ll finish up with the butter.”
Hattie didn’t wait around for the old woman to change her mind. She tugged off her apron and hurried from the room with the sheriff close behind. “Thank you, Mrs. Patterson,” she called over her shoulder, and heard Ed chuckle softly behind her.
Outside, he offered her his arm and she rested her hand on his shirt sleeve with a flush in her cheeks. He was so tall, and she could feel his strength as she brushed up against him. She glanced up at him with a tentative smile and he returned it with a wink that made her heart melt.
They walked in silence down the street until they came to the outskirts of town. She could see the mines stretching off to the north. A road wound westward, and they followed it through rolling hills lined with oaks and bushes. A jackrabbit loped along a ridge, stopping to look back at them with wary curiosity.
Hattie took a long slow breath of country air. It felt good to escape the bustle of the dusty town for a little while. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she’d needed this – she’d felt as though she could barely breathe sometimes. A smile drifted across her face.
Ed saw it and patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “I know things have been difficult for you. But, if there’s anythin’ I can do to help you… you only have to ask.”
Her eyes closed for a moment and she sighed. “Thank you, Ed. I appreciate it.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” She squinted into the morning sunlight as it beat down on their heads.
“Your folks really couldn’t find anything for you other than sending you west?”
“Apparently not.” She caught his eye with a half-smile and a long sigh. “So here I am.”
He stopped and turned to face her, laying his hands softly on her shoulders. “Yes, here you are. But will you stay?”
“Stay in Coloma?” Her thoughts swirled. Only hours earlier she’d have answered him vehemently, with a resounding “No.” But now she wavered. “I don’t know …” She pined for home, but Ed’s touch made her tremble and his kindnesses to her over the previous weeks had fortified her with a strength she never realized she had. Still, with all the instability of her sham of a marriage and her employment at a place one step shy of a brothel … was he reason enough to stay?
A second of stillness. Then he pulled her to him, crushing her mouth with his. She gasped. She’d never kissed a man like that before. Never felt that tug, that spark of attraction that might tempt her to step over the bounds of propriety, not even when she was engaged. But now, in the blinding California sunshine, worlds away from the drawing rooms and dance floors of New York City, she let go of her fears, her turmoil and her worries for a moment in time. A single perfect moment.
Even as her heart beat against his ribcage, the doubts returned with a vengeance. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be kissing the sheriff. For one, she was married. And secondly, she had to get home to New York – as much as he made her feel things she’d never felt before, she couldn’t lose her focus or she’d end up destitute and alone in the California wilderness. She put her hands against his chest and pushed him away.
His eyes blinked open, his gaze locked with hers and his hands clenched at his sides. “What’s wrong, Hattie?”
She covered her mouth and stifled a sob. “I’m sorry, Ed. You know I’m married. Yes, my husband is an outlaw and a scoundrel, but it doesn’t change that. And I know you won’t likely understand this, but I have to get home, back to my family. The saloon is not where I want to spend my days. There’s nothing for me there. I’m saving my pennies, then catching the train back east …” She paused when she saw the look in his eyes.
He turned away and strode further down the trail away from town. Stopping suddenly, he spoke without facing her. “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you could say that would make any difference. Things are the way they are.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“Hattie!” called Daisy, stamping her foot outside their bedroom door.
Hattie fastened the last pin in her hat and hurried outside. “Coming!”
“That’s what you’ve been saying the past half-hour,” complained Daisy.
They hurried along the dark, dusty hallway, down the stairs and through the saloon. Sally stood behind the bar and called out to them as they passed through the door. “Don’t be late comin’ back, ya hear?”
Daisy giggled and took hold of Hattie’s arm once they were outside. “I’m so glad to be free!” she cried, throwing her head back and letting the sun warm her face.
Hattie smiled. “It does feel good.”
“And we’re going to a play.”
“Well, to be fair, it’s not Broadway … but I’m just as excited as you are.” Hattie took a long, deep breath and smiled at the passersby as they bustled through town. They’d miss the opening curtain if they didn’t hurry – Sally hadn’t let them finish work early as they’d asked to.
Also, Hattie hadn’t been able to decide on the right hairstyle. She knew it likely didn’t matter, since no one in Coloma knew the first thing about the latest fashions. But she hadn’t seen Ed since that fateful kiss. Yes, she’d pushed him away, but the thought of seeing him again made her heart pound and her palms grow damp.
They hurried into the church hall, and Hattie grimaced to see every pew already full. The audience was quiet too, which meant the show was about to start. She and Daisy slid into chairs in the back of the room, and she craned her neck to see over the heads between her and the temporary stage that had been erected at the front.
“What’s the play called?” asked Daisy, foraging through her reticule with a frown.
Hattie glanced at the silent audience around them. A few shot Daisy irritated looks. “Um … The Lights O’ London,” she whispered in Daisy’s ear, trying hard not to cause a disturbance.
“Do we know anyone in the play?” asked Daisy loudly, pulling two long candy canes from her reticule. She handed one to Hattie with a grin and stuck the other in her mouth, sucking hard. Someone told her to shush, but she just rolled her eyes.
Hattie sighed and placed the candy in her lap. “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “I believe Deputy Perez might be playing Clifford.”
Just then, the music began and actors filed onto the stage. Hattie gasped – there was Ed! He was dressed in a black suit with a matching top hat, and when he doffed his hat she could see that his hair was neatly combed. She almost couldn’t recognize him. He looked so dapper and handsome, his beard trimmed and his broad chest and narrow hips well suited to the tailored clothing.
“Oh look, it’s Ed!” declared Daisy, taking the candy from her mouth long enough to disrupt everyone around her, then shoving it back in to slurp noisily.
“Shhh …,” Hattie whispered, covering her eyes. Daisy would get them thrown out of a Coloma community production before it was over, something she never would have thought likely.
Daisy simply smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. But she didn’t cause further trouble.
The play proceeded reasonably smoothly, apart from two incidents. In the first, a small boy in the play, wearing a pair of pants that were much too large, had his suspenders give way, displaying his tattered undergarments to the audience. He burst into tears, stormed from the stage and refused to return even though he played a major part. This gave the rest of the performance a disjointed air, as the other actors on stage tried to fill in his lines as best they could. When it happened, Daisy convulsed in fits of mercifully quiet laughter.
Then, near the dramatic end of the play, Ed misstepped and fell off the stage, landing in Mrs. Sandringham’s lap. The old woman had just fallen asleep, and the shock of it almost
gave her a heart attack. She picked up her walking cane and whacked Ed over the head and shoulders with it repeatedly until he climbed back up, clutching his wounded head with both hands. By this time, Daisy and Hattie were both doubled over with laughter, but so was most of the audience, so no one minded.
The actors did a fine job of picking things up where they’d left off and finishing the performance. Then the thespians (absent the one boy and his drawers) linked hands across the small stage and bowed to thunderous applause.
Daisy and Hattie wandered from the building, clutching at each other for support as they continued to laugh. “Oh, that was the best show I’ve ever seen,” cried Daisy, dabbing at fresh tears with a clean handkerchief.
Hattie puffed hard, trying desperately to compose herself. “I can’t … breathe …,” she laughed. “Did you see Ed’s face? Oh, it was priceless.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Hattie spun around, eyes wide, to find Ed behind them. “Ed, you were wonderful. Well done.” She smiled widely and quickly dried the tears from her cheeks with her gloves.
He raised an eyebrow. “Thank you. Though I could hear the two of you cacklin’ all the way through.”
Hattie held her breath, all temptation to giggle gone. “I’m sorry. Were you hurt?”.
“Don’t pretend concern now.” Ed kept a stone face for another moment, then burst into laughter. “I’m just teasin’. It really was a hoot. I’m just glad old Mrs. Sandringham didn’t bust my head with her cane.” The three of them laughed together, Hattie with some relief. Then Ed offered Hattie one arm and Daisy the other. “Let’s get somethin’ to eat.”
They walked to where people had set up tables covered in goodies and picnic rugs on the ground. Picnickers were scattered around, holding plates in their hands, laughing and chatting. “Will ye look at all this food!” exclaimed Daisy. She let go of Ed’s arm and hurried over to a table to find a plate.
“You really were very good,” said Hattie, her cheeks burning.
