Her Fearless Love_Seeing Ranch Mail Order Bride

by Florence Linnington

“I need to get your statement if you don’t mind,” the sheriff said. “Course, it can wait till after church.”

  Steve glanced at the church, then at Bonnie, who was pale.

  “I need to do this now,” he told her in a low voice. “To get it over with.”

  Bonnie nodded and squeezed his hand. “I understand.”

  Mrs. Briggs was already coming up to Bonnie, so Steve relaxed knowing she wouldn’t have to walk into church alone. With the two other men, Steve went into the hotel’s empty dining room and gave his account.

  Once he’d finished, Sheriff Ross asked for it again, this time jotting down notes.

  “What do you think?” Steve asked.

  Sheriff Ross scratched under his hat with his pen. Wakefield sat stiff in the chair next to him with his arms crossed.

  “About who did it?” the sheriff asked. “Did Hawkins have any enemies in town?”

  Steve and Wakefield exchanged a glance, and Steve’s stomach sank a bit as something new occurred to him. Over a dozen people had seen him confronting Hawkins after he had choked Margaret outside of the church. He couldn’t remember his exact words, but he’d told Hawkins that he would pay if he hurt Margaret again.

  And then, of course, Steve had been the one to find Hawkins body.

  Steve cleared his throat. “Not that I know of.”

  He paused, remembering that day at the mine that he and Neil heard Hawkins yelling at someone. He’d figured it was Margaret, but now wondered if it hadn’t been someone else.

  “I did hear him shouting at someone at the mine recently,” Steve said. “But I didn’t see who it was.”

  “A lot of people didn’t like Russell Hawkins,” Wakefield cut in. “The man was surly. He pulled one over on a couple miners who did some logging work for him. Didn’t pay them the wage he said he would. There are other stories, too, if you just ask around.”

  “Hmm.” Sheriff Ross looked between the two of them, then leaned forward in his seat. “To be honest with you both, this murder doesn’t rank high up on the list of my priorities. Not with a growing area full of other pressing issues. I got reports of bandits. Reports of cattle rustling. If Hawkins was a man many would miss, that would be different…” He paused. “His pockets were turned out.”

  “He was robbed?” Steve clarified.

  “Seems that way. Have either of you seen any strangers in town lately?”

  Steve shook his head.

  “A few have been coming through about every week or so for the last couple months,” Wakefield said. “They stay at the hotel.”

  “What for?” Sheriff Ross asked.

  “Hunting,” Wakefield said. “Looking for gold, sometimes. Whatever they think will make them lucky this year.”

  “You have a ledger or something else with names in it I can look at?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wakefield fetched the ledger, and for a few minutes, the dining area was quiet as Sheriff Ross pored over it. Steve glanced out the window, where the church was partially in view. He felt bad about missing service but also knew God could forgive him for skipping out on church to help solve a murder case.

  Sheriff Ross closed the ledger with a snap. “Here’s a theory I have, all right? And it could be that I’m wrong, but maybe not. There have been a few other murders similar to this the past few months. Men who have been robbed and shot dead. These have occurred within a forty mile radius of here.”

  “You think they’re connected?” Wakefield asked, his face scrunching. “Isn’t that the typical way to rob a man? Take his wallet and shoot him dead when he tries to stop you?”

  “Yes,” Sheriff Ross said, “but I happen to have some witnesses to a couple of these murders. I think there’s a new band of outlaws about the area.”

  “And you think they might have killed Hawkins?” Steve asked. “Why just him?”

  Sheriff Ross tapped his fingers on the table. “Could be they come up here thinking they’d do more than take one man out. What was happening in town last night?”

  “There was music,” Wakefield said. “Saturday night, we have a big shindig here in the hotel.”

  “It gets pretty loud, I imagine?”

  “It can,” Wakefield said.

  “Well, there’s the reason you didn’t hear the gunshots, anyhow.”

  “But you were talking about the bandits possibly coming to rob more than one person,” Steve said. “What about that?”

  “Could be something scared them away. Maybe they were worried the gunshots had been heard after all, and they thought all those men in the hotel would put their banjos and harmonicas down and come storming out with guns at the ready.”

  Steve frowned. The sheriff’s hypothesis was…

  “It’s not a rock solid theory,” the sheriff said, agreeing with the implied meaning in the two other men’s silence. “Either way, I need to take care of these bandits. I’m going to be looking for men today in Whiteridge to join me. I already have a group of fifteen collected from Pathways and Shallow Springs.”

  “Is this what your visit is about?” Wakefield asked. “Gathering mercenaries to help you take care of the bandits?”

  Sheriff Ross raised his eyebrows. “You comfortable with a group of outlaws roving around while your family goes about its day?”

  Wakefield’s chest sharply rose. “Count me in. I’ll join the posse.”

  Steve hesitated. He knew how to shoot a gun. Any man who didn’t in the West was as good as dead. He’d never joined anything like a posse before, though.

  Yet, he knew he needed to. Like Wakefield, he had someone to protect.

  “Same here,” Steve said.

  Sheriff Ross nodded in satisfaction. “We’re heading out this afternoon. Meeting at the crossroads at the foot of the mountain and splitting into groups of two.”

  “How many bandits do you think there are?” Steve asked.

  “The reports I collected said six to eight. There could always be more, though. Best to have as many men as we can.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw people leaving the church. Bonnie descended the stairs, Mrs. Briggs and Aria at her side. Best he could tell, it appeared Margaret had not gone to church.

  Shaking Sheriff Ross’ hand, and promising him he would be at the crossroads that afternoon, Steve hurried outside to talk to Bonnie.

  “How did it go?” she asked, as he took her elbow and led her away from everyone else.

  “The sheriff thinks it could have been a gang of bandits.”

  “Bandits?” Bonnie repeated in alarm.

  “Don’t you worry. It’s going to be taken care of.” Steve licked his lips, not sure how she would take the next part. “Listen, he’s getting together a posse, and Wakefield and I both volunteered.”

  Bonnie’s lips parted in dismay, and she looked as if she was about to protest, but she held back.

  “I don’t want you staying at the house by yourself,” Steve said. “Go somewhere else. The Briggs’ or the Hahns’. We’ll figure it out today.”

  Bonnie nodded. “I will.”

  But, she wasn’t meeting his eyes.

  “Hey now.” Steve rested his hands on her shoulders. “It will be fine. It’s a big posse. We’ll take care of those bandits.”

  “I cannot help but be worried.” She smiled sadly.

  “I know.” Steve looked over her shoulder to where Wakefield spoke with his wife.

  “Do you think it was the bandits?” Bonnie asked.

  Steve turned his gaze back on her. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Sheriff Ross said there have been a number of robberies and murders in the area lately.”

  “Please be careful,” Bonnie whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Come home to me.”

  Ignoring the presence of other people, Steve wrapped his arms around Bonnie and pulled her into a tight hug.

  “I promise I will,” he told her, trying hard not to question the truth of that statement.

  14

 
; 14. Bonnie

  Chapter fourteen

  Bonnie bounced Aria on her knee, trying to make the baby laugh. Instead, the little girl whimpered.

  Bonnie sighed. “I understand, perfectly,” she told Aria, who burst into tears.

  Thea looked over from where she gazed out the hotel room’s window. “She wants to be home… and she wants Wakefield.” Her voice cracked on the last part, and she turned away.

  Tears filled Bonnie’s eyes, and she looked at her lap. The three of them had spent the night at the hotel, at the urging of Steve and Wakefield. Both men worried about them being alone at their cabins while the bandits were hunted.

  “Oh, no, don’t you cry too,” Thea said, leaving the window and dabbing at her eyes with her apron.

  “I apologize,” Bonnie choked out.

  Aria wailed loudly, and her mother picked her up from Bonnie’s lap and patted her on the back to soothe her.

  “Is it wrong that I would rather be at home?” Thea asked.

  “No,” Bonnie said. “But it makes your husband feel much better to know you are here.”

  Thea nodded, not looking happier in the slightest. The men had not known when they would return, and Wakefield had arranged for a male neighbor to care for the Briggs’ animals while they were gone.

  Though, honestly, that male neighbor could be killed if the bandits were to show up in Whiteridge. And it was not as if a hotel wall and a few men with pistols would do much good against the bandits. If those outlaws came looking to kill, very little could be done to stop them.

  A chill enveloped Bonnie, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Let us go visit the Hahns,” Thea said. “We should see how Margaret is doing.”

  “Yes,” Bonnie answered. “Let’s.”

  Noah Hahn had stayed in town, and his wife Rosalie and their son, plus Margaret, had stayed where they were as well.

  Thea put a hat on Aria, and they descended the stairs into the hotel’s foyer. It was halfway between lunch and supper, making the hotel eerily quiet. In fact, the whole town felt eerily quiet.

  When they arrived at the Hahns’, Bonnie found herself sighing in relief. Rosalie must have spotted them from the window, because she opened the door right away, ushering them in.

  “We just arrived home from school,” Rosalie, who was Whiteridge’s teacher, told them. Thea removed Aria’s hat and smiled at Rosalie’s son, who sat at the table reading a book.

  “Hello, Jacob.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Briggs.”

  “‘Acob,” Aria said, pointing at Jacob.

  “Aw,” Jacob said, “she wants to play.”

  Thea laughed. “She loves you.”

  A board creaked, and Margaret appeared in the doorway of one of the bedrooms. She looked as peaked as she had the last time Bonnie had seen her.

  “May Jacob take Aria out front to play?” Thea asked Rosalie.

  “Yeah!” Jacob said in excitement.

  “Mm-hmm.” Rosalie opened the door. “Jacob, do not let her put anything in her mouth.”

  “I won’t,” he said, taking Aria from Thea’s arms. “We’ll make a fairy house.”

  “Stay where you can see the front door,” Rosalie instructed, leaving the door open so she could keep an eye on the children. “Well.” She clapped her hands together and turned to look at the other three women. “Coffee?”

  Bonnie cast a cautious glance at Margaret, who had not moved from the doorway.

  “That sounds nice,” Margaret said, moving for the table.

  Thea and Bonnie chimed in with their agreeance and took seats at the table.

  “How are you doing?” Bonnie asked Margaret.

  Margaret smiled, but Bonnie could tell it was forced. There was no warmth in her eyes. “To be honest, I am quite tormented. I am worried God is playing a trick on me.”

  Thea gasped. “Oh no, do not say that! How can that be so?”

  Margaret set her laced hands on the table. “I prayed to be saved from my marriage, and now my husband has been killed. Does God expect me to find relief in this? Or is it a test? Will He be angered if I am happy?”

  Bonnie rested her hand on Margaret’s white knuckles. “Mr. Hawkins’ death has nothing to do with what happened in your marriage.”

  Margaret’s lips twisted, and Bonnie noticed the bags under her eyes. Had she slept at all?

  Rosalie looked over from where she worked the coffee grinder. The crunching of the beans filled the cabin. “She is correct, Margaret. It is all right to be relieved and to mourn a death at the same time. Life is not so simple. It cannot be black and white, no matter how much we wish it were.”

  “What are your plans now?” Bonnie asked cautiously, aware that it was perhaps too soon for Margaret to know.

  Margaret shook her head. “I do not know. I cannot head back East. I suppose the only option is for me to stay in Wyoming and find a job. Surely, there is something in Pathways or Shallow Springs.”

  “There will be,” Bonnie assured her. “And even Whiteridge is growing by the minute. Perhaps there is something here for her.”

  Margaret didn’t respond, and Bonnie knew that Whiteridge could very well now be tainted for her.

  Rosalie put the kettle on top of the cook stove and took a seat while the water heated. “What are those two doing?” she asked. “I can’t see them from here.”

  Bonnie leaned in her seat to look out the doorway. “Jacob is stacking some stones and Aria is waving some moss around.”

  Rosalie nodded. “Good.”

  Thea sighed. “Lucky children. They are so carefree.”

  Rosalie gave her a sympathetic look. “Do not worry. The posse will return. The sheriff knows what he’s doing.”

  Thea nodded, and they fell into silence. Bonnie worried about Steve greatly, but she did not want to say anything in front of Margaret, for she was the one going through a tragedy. It did not matter that her husband had been unusually cruel. A life ended and another upended was something to take seriously.

  The kettle whistled, and Rosalie went to work brewing the coffee. In the front yard, Aria laughed, and Jacob told her stories about faeries. In some ways, it felt like the perfect afternoon.

  “The church windows will be in this week,” Rosalie said as she served the mugs of coffee.

  The women all glanced at each other.

  “I know.” Rosalie took her seat with a sigh. “It is so unimportant right now. Church windows.” She shrugged her shoulders apologetically. “I wasn’t thinking. I only wanted to say something.”

  “I do appreciate the effort,” Margaret said, her eyes filling with tears. “As I appreciate everything. Everyone in this town has been so helpful. I do not know what I would do if I were alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” Thea reminded her. “Not ever. You will have friends in this town for the rest of your life. You see that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Margaret sniffled and blinked away tears.

  The women sipped their coffee, another uncomfortable bout of silence between them.

  Where was the posse now? It had been about twenty-four hours since Steve, Wakefield, and five other men from Whiteridge had ridden off to join the Shallow Springs and Pathways groups. Had they found the bandits? Or perhaps a clue?

  There was no guarantee as to when they would return, and that made Bonnie feel like she was being turned inside out. She wanted to scream and cry, to bury her face in her hands.

  But she sat there stoically and sipped her coffee, just the same as the other three. Though each of them, surely, had a storm raging inside.

  15

  15. Steve

  Chapter fifteen

  Steve rested on some soft grass near the river, listening to the water flow over the stones. The relaxing scene was at odds with what was going on inside of him. Any moment, they could find the bandits.

  Or the bandits could find them.

  It was the second day of the hunt, and so far it had proven as fruitless a
s the first. The posse of men from the three towns had split into two groups, one riding south and one riding north-west, into an area that outlaws had been found in the year before. Steve’s group had taken the latter route.

  Beside Steve, Neil let out a groan. “I wish they’d just show their faces already. All this waiting is killing me.”