Montana Bride by Christmas

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Montana Bride by Christmas Page 24

by Linda Ford


  Justice didn’t need to know those details of her life. Having an occupation, she could hold her head up in this town. Perhaps by working on the Christmas surprise, she would gain a measure of respect she’d lost long ago back home. And eventually, she’d gather the courage to tell Susanna and Nate everything.

  *

  Justice shuffled the papers on his desk, trying to find some task to add credence to his claim of needing to work. In truth, he had little work to do in Esperanza, which was exactly the way he liked it. He’d joined the Texas Rangers nine years ago to protect innocent folks and imprison lawbreakers. Seeing what wicked men had done to his father, sanctioned all the way by unscrupulous lawmen and politicians, he’d vowed to punish evildoers wherever the Lord sent him.

  After four years with the Rangers, he’d felt the Lord call him farther west, and he’d spent a couple of years in Creede, a town way up in the San Juan Mountains near the headwaters of the Rio Grande. The Lord had blessed that time above all expectations, but Justice got restless again. Then his former mentor in the Rangers put him in contact with the owner of the Esperanza Bank, Nolan Means, who needed a bodyguard due to threats from vengeful outlaws. Once the gang was taken down, Justice accepted the post of deputy with the former sheriff, Abel Lawson. Lawson retired shortly thereafter, and the town hired Justice as their sheriff.

  Justice was honored by the town’s trust and prayed he’d never do anything to let them down. His goal in life was to develop the reputation of being a no-nonsense lawman whom outlaws feared so much they’d never come near Esperanza. So far, so good. A few suspicious-looking sorts sometimes drifted through town on their travels to the silver and gold mines up near Creede, but he always encouraged them not to linger. While one or two offered resistance, a quick display of his two handiest weapons, his lariat and his Colt .45 Peacemaker, soon sent them on their way.

  People seemed to appreciate his approach and supported his methods, and in turn he respected them. Among other sensible laws, the town charter stated anyone setting up a business or even buying property for a home must sign a temperance pledge. No alcohol was permitted in the town limits other than Doc’s medicinal alcohol—a law that kept out the drunks and the troubles they brought.

  The only trouble in town, if one could call it that, was a few unruly schoolboys, most of whom straightened up after he gave them a good talking to. He still had his eye on a few of those lads.

  Lord, please don’t let Evangeline’s boy get involved with Deely Pine and Cart Fendel. Those two would steer Gerard onto a worse path than he was already headed for with his sullen, rebellious attitude. Justice would try not to think too harshly of the boy. He’d lost his father, a bitter situation Justice understood all too well. And if his mother sought a home with relatives, she probably didn’t have much money, if any. Justice might have to—

  Whoa! No use riding down that trail. Unless Gerard did something destructive to someone’s property, Justice wasn’t about to involve himself with Evangeline’s son. Closely resembling his father, he reminded Justice too much of his own past griefs. Let Nate handle the boy out at Four Stones Ranch. Justice needed to stay as far as possible from anything to do with Evangeline and her youngsters.

  The plan wouldn’t be easy to follow, thanks to Susanna Northam. Justice was more than content to work on the Christmas village by himself. While on his Grand Tour of Europe, he’d seen many such displays in Germany, had seen how they delighted the children of the towns he visited. Now building one himself, he found the project filled a hunger in him, a longing to do something for Esperanza’s children, since he had none of his own and probably never would have. As she’d said, the back room of the library was the only place in town where he could keep his work hidden from prying eyes. True, he did sometimes wonder if he’d finish in time for the Christmas Eve pageant and party, so a little help would be appreciated. But with the town so quiet, he had little else to do. He couldn’t have known Susanna would hire Evangeline to work in the library and then suggest he needed her help. What a nightmare. He liked Susanna, but sometimes she could be meddlesome when she got a bee in her bonnet. Thanks to her, he’d have to see Evangeline every day whether he wanted to or not.

  Irritated with his own thoughts, not at all pleased at being reminded of the most painful events of his life, Justice snatched up a pile of wanted posters from his desk and started thumbing through them for about the fifth time.

  “Howdy, boss.” Sean O’Shea, Justice’s deputy, entered the office and whipped off his hat, hung it on a peg by the door, then ruffled a hand through his fiery red hair. “Say, I thought you said you’d never take up old Sheriff Lawson’s habit.” He nodded toward the posters. “You said reading those more than once was a waste of time. Haven’t you read ’em at least three times already?”

  “Mind your own business.” Justice’s tone came out much harsher than he intended.

  Sean held up his hands in surrender. “Yes, boss.”

  “And don’t call me boss.”

  Sean snorted out a laugh and sat at his smaller desk across the room. “Must be a woman,” he muttered.

  Which almost earned him getting lassoed and dragged across the room.

  Except he was absolutely right.

  Copyright © 2017 by Louise M. Gouge

  ISBN-13: 9781488017865

  Montana Bride by Christmas

  Copyright © 2017 by Linda Ford

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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