Bought by the Lone Cowboy

by E. Walsh

  As the weeks went by, he went to visit Mary’s grave often, and as he talked to her, he asked for her blessing. Sarah was a God send, he told her. He sank to his knees every night and thanked the Lord for hearing his prayers. He knew that Sarah was here to stay.

  The End

  41. The Widow Bride

  By: Nicky S.

  The Widow Bride

  © Nicky, S., 2016 – All rights reserved

  Published by Steamy Reads4U

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Warning

  This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  “Mrs. McBride, you know we all loved Bill and we’ve got nothing but sympathy and respect for you and Tommy.”

  “I appreciate that, Mayor Burns,” Holly said with a tired sigh, knowing what was coming next. “It means a lot to Tommy and me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the mayor continued. He diverted his eyes to the floor and squeezed his hat tightly between his hands, like he was wringing water out of it. He wasn’t thrilled about what he had to say next.

  “Thing is, ma’am, we’ve hired a new sheriff and, well, he’s due in the day after tomorrow.”

  “I understand,” Holly said, lifting her chin, pretending to be strong.

  The mayor glanced up with a regretful frown on his wrinkled face. He nodded around the room. “You know same as I do, ma’am, that the town provides this here house to the sheriff and his family, along with his wages. We’re gonna need you to vacate. I’m afraid there’s just really nothing we can do.”

  Holly’s eyes went from the mayor’s face to the two councilmen standing behind him, like they were shielding themselves from her reaction.

  There was no need to fear her. She didn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. She was also a mourning widow who knew well the terms of her dead husband’s employment. She’d known that sooner or later she and Tommy would have to find some other place to live. She had hoped she would have more time to make other arrangements, but she understood. The town needed a new sheriff and that sheriff needed a place to live.

  The problem she faced was that the fifty dollar death benefit that she’d been given by the town when Bill was killed was nearly gone, and she had a 10 year old son who was growing fast and needed to be fed and clothed.

  “I understand,” she said softly. They’d been kind enough to let her stay as long as they had and she didn’t want to return their kindness with anger. Still unsure of what to do, she responded. “We will get our things together and move them out by tomorrow evening.”

  “You’re welcome to my wagon and my boys to help you out, ma’am.” Gil Hansen stepped forward with his hat in his hands to make the offer.

  “That is very kind of you, Mister Hansen. I don’t know that we have enough to warrant a wagon. The furnishings all came with the house,” she smiled.

  “Kitty and I can put you and Tommy up for a spell, if you haven’t found a place to stay,” Jim Thompson said, taking his turn in the difficult conversation.

  “Another very kind offer,” she replied. Kitty and Jim had little enough to spread out between their four girls. Though it might be an option if nothing else worked out, she hesitated. It was bad enough for her to be in dire straits, but she didn’t want to take anyone else down with her. “I hate to impose.”

  “The offer stands, ma’am,” he reasserted with smile. “You just come along when you’re good an’ ready. We’ll make up a place for the two of you.”

  “We’ll keep you in mind,” she said with a small smile.

  There wasn’t anything more to say. An uncomfortable silence followed and the men shuffled their feet, not sure of what they were supposed to do next.

  “Is there something else, gentlemen?” Holly asked.

  “No, ma’am, nothing else,” Mayor Burns said. He still couldn’t look her in the eye. “We just don’t feel good about doin’ this at all. If there was any other way…”

  “Mayor, councilmen,” she addressed them as she started to guide them toward the door. “It’s quite alright. Tommy and I will get along just fine. We certainly appreciate the kindness that you have extended to us since Bill passed on. Please, think nothing more of it. You’re doing what’s right by your new sheriff and his family.”

  She had crowded them out the door and was smiling at them from the porch when Tommy came out and stood at her side. He was only ten, but his head was nearly the same height as her shoulder. His expression didn’t match hers in any way. In fact, he looked at them with a leveled glare and a sour face.

  “We’re sorry about your pa, Tommy,” Mayor Burns added. “We’re sorry about all of this.”

  Tommy didn’t respond.

  “Tommy McBride,” Holly hissed. “You mind your manners and tell them thank you for their hospitality.”

  “But where are we going to live?” he asked. She could tell he was fighting to hold back tears.

  “That’s not for you to worry about,” she whispered. “But you will mind your manners.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said in a forced tone.

  “We really do feel bad…” Mayor Burns began again.

  “Please,” she responded, cutting him off. “No more talk about it. What’s done is done.”

  Mayor Burns and the councilmen hesitated and moment longer and then finally turned to walk back up the dusty street. Holly watched them until they disappeared inside the saloon. She wasn’t surprised. They all looked like they could use a drink.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  “Well, now, Tommy McBride,” she said with a sigh. “We’ve got to figure out what to do next.”

  A single woman with a half grown boy didn’t have a lot of choices. There simply weren’t jobs to be had in a town where everyone tended to their own business mostly.

  She certainly could take up Jim and Kitty’s offer, but she’d only be delaying the inevitable. At some point, she had to be able to earn a living for her and Tommy.

  There was a work house outside of town full of ladies trapped in a similar situation, but the thought of stooping to that level disgusted her. She had her dignity and she would keep it.

  “Now, and you, mister,” she scolded as she guided her son into the house. “You need to wipe that scowl off of your face and stop being such a sourpuss. There isn’t any call treating those kind men the way you were. They had a difficult job to do and they were doing it the best they could. This house and all that is in it, minus what we wear and the few trappings that we have gathered, belongs to the town council and is provided to the sheriff and his family. So, consequently, it will be passed along and we must go.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a sigh. “I know all that. You’ve told me a thousand times.”

  “And I’ll tell you a thousand times more if need be,” she retorted. “It’s a shame what happened to your pa. It’s ripped the life out of us both, but we’ll say our prayers and we’ll come up with a way to get along. So, you may as well buck up,
put a smile on your face and start gathering your things together.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled as he turned away.

  “Tommy,” she snapped. When he turned around she smiled. “I want to see that smile of yours first.”

  Tommy forced a smile for her, then let it sag into a frown.

  “That’s better,” she replied. “But keep the smile. That frown is an ugly thing.”

  She didn’t force it any further. Tommy turned away and went to the ladder that led up to the loft where he slept.

  She couldn’t expect much more than what she’d gotten from the boy. In fact, if she allowed herself the moment, she might break down into sobbing and never be able to recover from it again.

  “Ah, Bill,” she whispered as she slipped into the tiny bedroom that the two of them had shared. “Look what you’ve gone and gotten us into now.”

  The image of her husband laid out on the table at the undertaker’s office came back into her mind.

  She hadn’t seen the shooting. She’d been tending to Tommy out back of the house when she heard the sharp crack of gunshots up the street.

  Tommy had started to run to see what was going on, but she called to him sharply and held him back.

  “You know better than to go rushing toward gunfire!” she’d scolded.

  Within a few minutes, however, someone came running and calling at the house. That’s when the nightmare for her and Tommy had begun.

  She forced the image out of her mind as she felt the lump rising up in her throat and the tears threatening to spill over the rims over eyes.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she muttered to herself. Had she been alone, she might have lay down on her bed and cried until there were no more tears, but for Tommy’s sake, she didn’t have that luxury.

  She had gone from being a mother and wife to being both mother and father to a boy who needed her.

  He needed her at her best and she had to figure out a way to provide it.

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  The roan gelding picked his way through the rocks as he descended along the narrow trail that hugged the canyon wall.

  Rance Cutler gave him his lead and allowed him to take his time and pick his way down the steepest part of the descent. Rushing his mount at that point might spell disaster for both of them.

  It had been a while since Rance had acquired steady work. Consequently, when he’d gotten a wire from an old friend that they needed a new sheriff in Alma, Colorado, and that the job was his if he wanted it, he answered it immediately and packed his bedroll for the trip.

  He’d broken camp earlier that morning well before daylight and was just seeing the breaking of day as he hit the Skyline trail.

  Though most of his concentration was on the trail and keeping his mount, he occasionally looked out across the valley as it spread out below the ridge.

  He could see the sleepy little town come into view as daylight touched the marshy mess that was the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the South Platte River and what was to become his new home.

  In the distance was the wide expanse of South Park and the rise where the neighboring town of Fairplay was located already lit by the sun’s rays.

  Rance had left Leadville the morning before, having had about all of that town that he wanted within the first fifteen minutes after he’d arrived.

  His plan had been to take his time and work his way over the mountains to Alma. It would have taken him another day, but a cold, sleepless night at 13,000 feet convinced him that he’d rather arrive early.

  From his vantage point, he could make out miners as they wound their way up the trail in the bottom of the canyon on the way to work their claims.

  Several, who lived on their claims, were already starting to work and he could hear the sounds of drill steel being hammered into rock and picks, chipping away at the surrounding mountains in search of gold.

  Along the stream, men with pans were sloshing gravel, sand and gold dust, hoping for a little pay dirt or a nugget that would finally pay off the tab they’d run up at the general store.

  He passed a few miners who were getting a late start as he came to the edge of town and rode past Nelly’s. That’s what the sign out front said.

  There wasn’t any guessing about what went on inside the walls of that large Victorian style home in the evenings.

  Where there were miners, there were certain other, required services. He’d partaken in the like a time or two himself, but had never taken a liking to it. Perhaps, like drunkenness, it was an acquired taste.

  Rance had left his folks back east when he’d turned sixteen and hadn’t looked back.

  A few letters had found him in various places and he’d sent a couple himself, but in nearly a dozen years, he hadn’t had much contact with those that he left behind.

  His pa had been a drunk with a heavy hand which he made regular use of to keep him, his ma and his two sisters in their place.

  When Rance had gotten a belly full, he’d snuck out in the middle of the night and never looked back.

  He’d drifted, mostly, spending some time in Texas, Arizona, California, Utah and Colorado.

  Having become handy with the colt strapped to his hip, most folks weren’t eager to have him stick around their towns for very long, however, when a really bad man happened to pass through their country, they tended to become a lot friendlier.

  Though most of his time in Colorado had been spent in the southwest around Durango, Cortez and Dolores, he’d always had a hankering to head toward Denver.

  He was a whole lot closer, but still a very long ways away.

  He smelled bacon as he passed the hotel and considered dropping in there first, but decided that he wanted to unload his bedroll and what little he owned at the house before going to breakfast.

  There wasn’t a lot to the small mining town. A general store, an assay office, a bank, a couple of saloons, a livery, a couple of blacksmiths and a hotel were about all that lined the main street.

  There were a few pretty nice houses of a similar Victorian style as Nelly’s, but mostly, there were cabins and miner’s shacks that had been thrown up cheap and in a hurry.

  The one that he rode toward at the end of the street was of the latter type.

  He noted that there was smoke rising from the stove pipe as he drew closer to the shack and he wondered who might have known he was coming and started a fire for him.

  Though it confused him some, he didn’t linger on it long. “Won’t have to wait on a fire to heat up the place,” he muttered as he drew up, swung his leg over the cantle and stepped down to the ground.

  Taking a couple of wraps around the rail in front of the shack, he was in the process of untying his bedroll from the back of the saddle when the door to the shack opened.

  “Can I help you, sir?” a woman’s voice asked.

  He hadn’t been expecting that. He stopped what he was doing and turned toward her.

  She was a few years younger than himself with hair the same shade as a chestnut horse and large blue eyes.

  “Well, now,” he said slowly, admiring the figure that he saw before him. “I reckon that I either died an’ gone to heaven or that I’m in the wrong place.”

  “Depends on who you are,” she responded watching him closely.

  “I was told that the town council provided me with a place to live along with the job of being sheriff,” he replied. As he spoke, a boy showed up at the door beside his ma. “I didn’t know that a whole family came along with it.”

  “Oh, you must be Mr. Cutler, then,” the woman responded. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Tommy and I have our things packed and we’ll be out of here as quickly as we can.”

  “Is the coffee on?” he asked, turning away from the two of them and going back to untying his bedroll.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’ve made biscuits and bacon and was about to start on some eggs when you rode up.”

  “Well, th
en, since you put in the work, you might as well stay and eat it. You can fill me in on the town too, if you don’t mind.”

  He’d removed his bedroll and started toward the porch.

  “I’m Holly McBride and this is my son Tommy,” she said with a forced smile that belied the fear in her pretty eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He paused before stepping up onto the porch. “McBride you say? Isn’t that the name of the sheriff that got gunned down? The fellow that I’m here to replace?”

  “He was my husband and Tommy’s father,” she said in a soft tone as she bowed her head and stared at her feet.

  “I’m sorry to hear that ma’am. From all accounts that I have heard, he was a good man,” he said, taking off his hat out of respect. What else could he say in that particular moment?

  “He was a fine man,” she replied and then raised her head and smiled. “Come on in. I finish getting breakfast on, do the dishes and then we’ll get out of your way.”

  Rance nodded at the boy who was staring a hole into him, but hadn’t said a word. The woman put her hands on the boy’s shoulders and turned him around.

  Rance followed them into the tiny house that was little more than an improved shack.

  Just inside the door, it was pretty evident that the place didn’t amount to a lot.

  There was one open room with a stove, counter and cupboards in one corner of it and a rough-hewn lumber table and chairs nearby.

  There was a rocker and a throw rug in the opposite corner to the stove.

  A ladder going up to a loft built into the open rafters and a door into what he guessed was the bedroom were along the far wall.

  “Make yourself at home, Mr. Cutler,” Holly said as she turned toward the stove. “I mean, Sheriff Cutler.”

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Holly would never say so, but she thought Rance Cutler was a rough looking sort, especially for a law man.