by Etta Foster
Judge Thompson was already in his seat. “You’re getting slower, Sheriff,” he winked as he reviewed his own pile of papers at the desk.
“I’m beginning to think you never leave your chair,” Xavier hung his hat up before crossing the large open room. “Are you ready to get started? I can get the thieves out here now if you want to begin earlier.”
The man shrugged. “Let them get their sleep. From what I can see, they don’t have a lot of hope for anything better today. But we’ll talk about that later when they’re here. I’d hate to leave them out of the conversation. On another topic, how’s your sister?”
“Bianca is well and more beautiful than she was the last time you saw her,” Xavier shrugged. “But you would know that yourself if you tried to speak to my sister. She doesn’t bite.”
Jay Thompson chuckled, shaking his head. He was a few years older with a streak of gray in his brown hair. But otherwise the man was wrinkle-free as he acted as the only New Mexico judge. When he wasn’t in that very chair, he was either traveling for other cases or taking care of his ailing mother.
“I’ll speak to her someday,” Thompson assured him. The man had little to do then but daydream about a certain black-haired beauty. This had been going on since he first arrived in town five years ago. Xavier wasn’t certain the judge and his sister had ever had a conversation together. A few pleasantries exchanged in the church, perhaps, but that was all.
He shrugged it off. He’d told Thompson he would not play a middle man, though he had suggested at least trying to speak to his sister. Nothing had happened. While the man was not afraid to lay down the law, he had the right to fear something else. And when Bianca was in a fury, it was the wise thing to do. “How is your mother?”
“Another cold,” the man sighed after a moment. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s just being stubborn. Doesn’t want to get out of bed. But all is well. Can you see if the O’Henry party is arriving? I’d hate to get started without them.”
“Yes, I’ll go check,” Xavier turned around, leaving the courthouse. Only as he stepped out onto the porch did he think of his hat on the wall. The man hesitated, thinking to return for it. But something caught his eye.
Though San Miguel would be waking up by now, no one was supposed to be hanging around the jail and his office that stood right across the street. Yet there were three men lined up against the wall in the shadows. He stopped. Three men with dark hair, dirty clothes, and darting eyes.
Swearing under his breath, Xavier started forward. A hat would do him little good now. How had they escaped their cell? He took four steps to the right, slipping out of their view. But this put them out of his line of sight as well.
When he reached the jail house, he unholstered a gun and stood against the wall perpendicular to the men in the alley. Realizing he was angled in front of the sun to the men, he just had to wait for one of them to emerge. There were more risks being in town and he couldn’t risk others getting hurt. He couldn’t wait long.
He didn’t have to.
The first man slipped around the corner. He looked around wildly before finally noticing Xavier beside him. It was the leader, Wheelie. Seeing the gun in his face, he swore wildly before trying to step away. “Run!” he shouted over his shoulder. “It’s him. He’ll never catch us alive!” But before he could take his own advice, Xavier lowered the gun and punched him in the face.
Wheelie dropped but he heard the thud of footsteps. There was no time to waste, Xavier realized, and there was no telling what kind of ruckus the men would cause if they got too far. He removed the pair of handcuffs he always carried and secured them on Wheelie’s wrists around the building’s post. Then he grabbed the rope hooked alongside the wall reserved for horses and headed into the alley.
Booted feet ran to the left around the next building. He put his gun back into the holster and followed, making a lasso as he went. It was a foolish idea he might rope one or both of them in, but he was short on time and short on ideas. He kept moving as he rounded the alley and found the two rustlers running alongside each other straight ahead.
Thieves were never bright. Locking his jaw, Xavier gave a sharp whistle. It confused the two men momentarily as they slowed to look around. He used that moment and tossed the lasso. By some miracle of the Lord Almighty, it landed around both of them.
He tightened it quickly. They had lost their leader and didn’t know where to go, giving up. Xavier pulled out his gun and pointed it at them as he turned the party around back to the courthouse.
When he stepped in with the three men for their court hearing, Judge Thompson was still at his seat as he spoke with Mr. O’Henry. “You’re late,” he grinned.
Xavier shrugged, forcing the men down onto the bench. All of them were dizzy but handcuffed and secure.
For the last seven years, he’d been the sheriff in San Miguel. He was only twenty-eight years old. Bianca told him he was still young, but he was feeling the years add up and wondered if he was pushing his luck. Surely there was something more he could be doing than roping up runaway thieves.
Chapter 3
Regina rose from the bed, unable to sit any longer. Clutching the letter in both hands, she read it over again. Her heart started to race as she grinned. Was she in a dream? Surely only wonderful things like this happened in a dream.
She pinched herself and squealed. Laughing, Regina clutched the paper to her heart. It was happening. It was really happening. She was getting out.
There was no time to waste. For the last month, the young woman had already been trying to decide what she would take out west. How many dresses? Boots? She didn’t need much, but she had to be able to carry everything. After a night of packing and repacking, it came down to one large bag and a purse.
As the sun began to creep up that following morning, Regina wrote her farewell letter. “My dearest parents,” she mumbled under her breath. “Thank you for everything. However, I must inform you that I am leaving. I will be getting married as Mother desired, but not in the expected manner. All is well. I’m off to a better life. I can do so much more in California than I can here. Please do not come after me.” She hesitated and then added, “I’m tired of the money and you and everyone else. I’ll write when I’m settled. All my love, Regina Maythorpe.”
That would not be her name for long. She pondered that as she hurried out of the house before anyone awoke. Down the street she went, rounding the corner to the train station. A ticket to Texas was purchased and before Regina knew it, she had left Pennsylvania.
Her heart thumped. Glancing down at her lap, she found her hands were shaking. But it made her smile. She hadn’t felt this alive in so long. The idea of becoming a mail order bride had sounded ludicrous. But so had joining her mother’s garden club or marrying Mr. Williamson. So, Regina had started searching for a husband of her choosing.
There were a few offers. But the only one that intrigued her came from Mr. Ethan Martell, a rancher from Texas who wanted a wife to join him on the move to California. California! She grinned. All those dreams of exploring the world were coming true.
Three days on the train were not as fun as she had hoped, but Regina made the best of it. There was too much hope in her heart to do anything else. She made a few friends as she went, and she reread her letters from Mr. Ethan Martell.
He wrote like an educated man. The man spoke passionately of his ranch and his desire to go west. While she wasn’t expecting love, they had gotten along so well in their letters. The man appeared free of society’s constraints and Regina wondered if she had really become so fortunate.
By a stroke of luck, he was also handsome. A tall blond gentleman immediately greeted her after she’d climbed off the train. He took off his hat. “You can be none other than my Regina Maythorpe,” he announced.
Warmth climbed over her cheeks. Acting like that was nearly indecent. But she didn’t mind. The thrill sent a shiver up her spine. “Mr. Martell, it’s wonderful to finally see you face to face.”
<
br /> “I couldn’t be more pleased,” he assured her as he offered her an arm. The man was dressed casually with a fine day coat. His hair was slicked back, and he had a fine chin. Regina had a hard time understanding how this educated and handsome man was to be her husband. But she was decidedly a fast learner.
“Where are we off to now?” she asked as he also took her large bag. “The chapel, I suppose?” They would need to be wed before leaving for California. No one was that scandalous.
He shrugged. “We can worry about that later. I thought we would eat, wouldn’t you agree?”
The idea of food was appealing. Perhaps he was as anxious about marrying a stranger as she felt. Regina nodded. “Certainly, I think that would be swell.”
“And the money?” Mr. Martell offered her a charming smile. “You brought it?”
With all his money in stocks and bonds, the man had little cash at his disposal. He’d explained his entire story within the third letter. One couldn’t use telegrams to get their money back, so he was waiting for the banks back east to give it to him. In the meantime, he was in the middle of selling his ranch, but had mentioned to her that it might get tied up in the Texas bank as well. Her next letter had assured him that until it was sorted out, she could provide them with their basic needs.
It was the least she could do for her fiancé. That sounded strange. Nodding, she patted her purse. “Of course, Mr. Martell. I have some cash right here. I’m afraid, however, the rest of my funds are in the form of gems. That won’t be a problem, will it?” She bit her lip. “There are still jewelers in the wild west?”
Chuckling, he nodded. “It’s still fairly civilized over here, and with everyone finding gold in the rivers, most will accept a diamond here and gold there. Brilliant, you are quite brilliant. But I insist upon you calling me Ethan.”
“Ethan,” she nodded, giving him her most winning smile. They got along so well in person as well. Perhaps marriage wouldn’t be as boorish as she expected. She opened her mouth to exchange a similar invitation, but he swept them out of the train station before she had a chance.
Texas was a different world. Speechless, Regina closed her mouth as she looked around in amazement. It reminded her of the strangeness of her summer in France. A few things were the same, but so much was different. Old and new and exciting.
Hot and dusty, she added. Fanning herself, she took a deep breath and wondered how it could be so warm already. It was only April now, but Texas acted as if it were summer.
“It’s so warm here,” Regina eagerly sought conversation, snatching a glance at Ethan. “I had no idea. How- how have you endured it?” It was a busy street and she sidestepped a child running past them.
He hardly noticed. “Oh, it doesn’t last long, I think.” Glancing around, he guided her across the street. She saw a plume of dust gather around her feet and marveled. Her mother would be furious.
But then Regina paused. Her mother would never see these boots again. She couldn’t help but smile, eager for the adventure to continue. Turning her attention back to Ethan, she tried to think of something to say in response. “You don’t think it doesn’t last long?”
He stopped them short. She jerked a step back and clutched her skirts, glancing at him in confusion. “I meant,” Ethan chuckled after a moment as he studied her, “the weather is like a river. You never know what might happen.”
She brightened. He was such a poet. The letters she kept close by in her bag had proved that, and she was delighted to hear such words. A sophisticated and poetic rancher in the wild west. “That was beautiful,” she offered. “You have such skill for similes.”
“Similes?” Ethan hesitated for a moment before he shrugged it off and gestured. “Here we are. They have delicious coffee cakes. I’m rather starving, so I hope you are, too.” And he whisked her inside before she could say anything else.
It was a decent restaurant, she would allow. But nowhere as fancy as those her mother preferred back home in Philadelphia. As they took their seats, Regina scolded herself. That was foolish of her to still consider Philadelphia as her home. Pennsylvania was a place of the past, filled with archaic ideals and boorish company. She took a look around at the people and was impressed upon finding so many different and strange people.
In high society, everyone looked the same. Though they changed their velvets and frills, it was always the same colors and patterns. If one didn’t look straight at someone, then they could pass for anyone else because there was little individuality.
She’d seen some variation on the train, but this Texan restaurant was a reminder that she had left high society for good. There were velvets, to be sure, but there was also leather, lace, and other woven materials she’d heard about but never seen for herself. Two men sat in a corner with colorful blankets on their shoulders, a hole cut out for their heads. Regina studied them curiously until the strangers glanced her way.
Ducking her head, she turned just as a man in a white apron arrived. “Afternoon,” he offered in a lilting accent. “We’ve got lemonade and chili today, with grits if you want it.”
Regina smiled politely. “I’ll start with oysters, thank you.”
To her surprise, both gentlemen before her chuckled. Her face flushed, not understanding. Ethan shook his head. “Oysters? We’re in the middle of Texas, Regina. We don’t have oysters. No, we’ll just take two plates. Coffee, too. With the cake, mind you.”
The server shrugged. “It’s just gone in the oven.”
“Then we’ll wait,” Ethan told him. “And don’t forget the lemonade as well.” They waited for the man to shrug and then disappear around the other tables. “Texas is different,” Ethan reminded her once they were alone again. “There aren’t parlors where women have their own room, and no one has oysters. Most of the coffee isn’t good, either. But you’ll get used to it.”
She swallowed. “Oh, of course.” Regina quieted and let Ethan do most of the talking after that. There was so much for her to learn about the wild frontier. Her fiancé told stories of sleeping under the stars and about his ranch. She suggested they ride over to see it, but he turned that idea down.
“Too much hassle,” he told her as he finished his cake. “We’re on the evening stagecoach out of here, after all. There wouldn’t be any time.”
A stagecoach. She nodded, realizing he had a point. Perhaps there would be more ranches to see in California. Perhaps they would build their own. She liked the sound of that. “And what about our wedding? Shouldn’t we be wed before traveling together?”
It wasn’t that she wanted to marry him. Regina had always considered herself a romantic, a woman who would never marry unless it was for love. But the incident with Mr. Williamson had proved to her that typically marriages were used to help people get what they really wanted. Like money, for example. Or a ticket out west.
Part of her worried about his expectations of a good housewife, but their conversations had spoken little of future responsibilities and more about building their happiness out in the wild with no one to answer to. Regina was so very ready for that; she’d grown up with her parents telling her what to do, only to go off to school where her teachers told her what to do. It was only in her spare moments when she was alone that she could do what she wanted. Typically, that meant reading a book or making a crown out of flowers.
But now, she wanted something more. Regina looked at Ethan and prayed he would help her get it. That he could get her there.
He waved a flippant hand as she paid for their meal. “The west is different. Especially since we’ll be in stagecoaches. They ride through the night and there will be other travelers to chaperone us along. After all, why marry in the heat of Texas when we could be married by the seas in California?”
Regina smiled. California sounded so wonderful. It was a perfect coincidence she had found herself an escort there. “I suppose that would be beautiful, Ethan. I’d like that.”
Standing, the man fixed his jacket and put out
a hand. “Perfect. Then let us be on our way to our destiny.” Ethan Martell looked down at her with his dashing smile. With her heart pounding, she accepted his invitation. They had a stagecoach to catch.
Chapter 4
It was not a good day. San Miguel was not where Xavier wanted to be at the moment, especially after his morning putting together a posse, but he still had a job to do. And he couldn’t desert his duties. He hadn’t been to the office for two days and couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Whoa, do I get a horse, too?”
Xavier paused from tying his Appaloosa to the post as he glanced up at Eddy McGee. It wasn’t the first time that week, let alone that morning, he wondered if he’d made a mistake in bringing in a deputy. While he needed support for the law, McGee was clumsy, untrained, and always spoke his mind.
But McGee was the only one who’d answered the ad he posted on his office door about needing the help. There was little payment in the role for Xavier, but he didn’t mind passing that salary on to the younger man to provide a paying job. The ranch provided enough income for him and his family.
