by Serena Vale
It was true, she was here, hitching rides with strangers out to a strange city, in the hopes of finding her husband. Sawyer McCain. Just the thought of his name had her chest tightening painfully. It had been a less than conventional wedding, to be true.
She had been running from a past that seemed to be waiting for her around every corner, intent on dragging her down. Alone and penniless, she had seen an ad for a company that helped women find respectable husbands, and they were willing to pay. The only catch was that she would have to leave her home on the east coast and travel west.
Of course, Charlotte had heard the stories, everyone had. The rough wilderness, the savage Indians and even more savage outlaws. But when she had thought of the west, all she could hear was freedom, a fresh start, and a small part of her, adventure. It had to be better than living on the streets, ending up doing god knows what. She didn't want that type of life for herself.
So she had contacted the company, and within two weeks she had a bank note in one hand and a ticket in the other. She was heading out west, toward her new life and her new husband. Charlotte also knew what some people thought of that type of service. Mail order brides, they called them. But she had shaken her head at all that. It didn’t matter to her, as long as he was kind. And Sawyer had ended up being so much more than that.
It was so easy to raise his image in her mind, the only thing she’d had to keep her company the past two long and lonely months. His honey blond hair and laughing green eyes. He had always looked like he had a secret, and he might just be willing to let you in on it. The first time she had seen him, she’d been knocked speechless. He was nothing like the old man she pictured, bearded and more than just a little round, probably with several warts.
Instead she had been introduced to the most handsome man she had ever met. And he was her husband! They had gotten along right away, his cheerful optimism a natural foil to her slightly more cynical realism. Sawyer had made her see the world in a different way, in a better way.
He had always been tinkering with things, fixing things, or just taking them apart to see how it worked. She remembered last Christmas she had gotten him a fob watch engraved with their initials, and he had only been able to wait three days before all its parts had been spread out on the table. He had put it back together, but couldn’t make it work anymore, even though he had worn it every single day since then.
Charlotte sighed to herself. Her husband, who she had come to love so desperately over the past year, and here she was chasing after him in the back of a rickety old wagon. He had gotten gold fever, as people called it. Leaving everything and everyone behind in the hopes of striking it rich out in the mountains of California.
He’d been gone for almost two months and they had been the longest two months of her life. Especially now. Carefully, she placed one hand over her still flat stomach. But she knew. She had known for weeks now. She was pregnant. It must have happened right before he left, but now he needed to come home. And Charlotte was going to make sure he got there, even if she had to tie him up and drag him there herself.
A sudden sound interrupted her thoughts, had her looking up sharply as smoke cleared from the brush just off the road a few yards to the left.
“Mr. Fulbright, what was–.”
“Everyone, put your hands up, and no one will get hurt.”
Charlotte’s heart sank at the roughly spoken words. Bandits! She looked over and she could just make out the shape of the city, of safety.
A man materialized next to wagon, dressed all in black. He even had a black cloth tied around his face with small holes cut out for the eyes and mouth. Her eyes trailed down his body, appreciating the strength in his shoulders and broad chest. Stop it. This is no time for that! Charlotte thought frantically as a wicked looking gun was pointed in her direction. They all put their hands up and climbed off of the wagon.
“Now, just give me any money or valuables you have and we can all be on our way.”
Mr. Fulbright went to grab a small change purse but the robber had stopped, his gaze fixated on Charlotte. Something in his body language told her he was shocked, or surprised by something, but she had no idea by what. Finally, she shrugged.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have anything to give you. I spent all my money to get out here chasing after my husband.”
“And... why would you do that?” he asked, his voice gruff behind the mask.
Charlotte shrugged. “I’m going to have his child, and it is about time he came home.”
The outlaw cleared his throat roughly before shaking his head. He took a hasty step back, and then another. Charlotte could see his skin go ghost white under the black fabric but he turned around, waving a hand toward them.
“Go.” The word was muffled.
“What? What did you say?” Charlotte asked, sharing a look of confusion with the Fulbrights.
“Just…go. I changed my mind.” He said, waving at them again. “I’m not going to rob you.”
“Um, thank you.” She said slowly, and took a hesitant step toward the wagon. When it was clear he wasn’t going to make a move toward the gun now holstered at his hip, they scrambled onto the wagon and took off with a snap of the reins.
Mrs. Fulbright cast one long look over her shoulder. “Well, that was the strangest robbery I’ve ever heard of.”
Charlotte just nodded, her hands once more wrapped protectively around her middle.
Chapter 2
The robber stared into the bright horizon long after the wagon and its trio of passengers had disappeared. His thoughts stumbled around his mind in endless, haphazard circles, always coming back to the same thing. That gorgeous red headed spitfire with startling grey eyes that seemed to look all the way through you, see all your secrets. They were so familiar to him he was sure he knew them better than his own.
“Sawyer! What’s going on, you fool!” The rough voice moved closer, along with the clip clop of horse hooves. “Isaac told me ya didn’t got nothing from the heist. What the hell, partner?” Lucas put a special emphasis on the word ‘partner’, finally breaking through Sawyer’s haze as he turned to cast a green eyed stare at the man who had convinced him to turn outlaw in the first place.
“Sorry, Lucas. I got to run.” Slowly, his tumultuous thoughts cleared and all he was left with was one thought. He had to follow her. He grabbed the reins of his horse, Wildfire, put a boot in the stirrup and was halfway up before he noticed Lucas scowling darkly at his side.
“You can’t just leave.” The other man stated, but Sawyer just shook his head, filled with an impatience. It was urgent that he caught their trail before he lost them completely. He knew they were headed to San Francisco, but once they got to the booming city, it would be ten times as hard to find them.
“Sawyer, are you even listening to me?”
“I’m sorry,” he threw over his shoulders as he clicked his heals against Wildfire’s side. “I’ll see you later. I know where to find you.” And before the other man could say another word, he was off. He could feel the animal’s movements underneath him, muscles bunching and then releasing as the horse galloped toward the city. Wildfire. He had been thinking of his wife when he’d named her. And now she was here, looking for him. And pregnant!
For the first time the thought struck him, sinking deep. Char was pregnant. He was going to be a father. Shock, surprise, fear, and panic all flooded through him as it repeated over and over in his befuddled mind. The image of Charlotte, standing there in front of him, telling him resolutely that she was going to find her husband. To see the love shining in her eyes when she had talked about him, about their baby. She was pregnant, and he was going to be a father!
Sudden joy flooded through him. He had wanted children for so long. He had needed a change in his life, the soft care of a woman. Living out in the west had left him few options so when a rancher a few towns over had been bragging about the amazing woman he had wed from the west coast, Sawyer had immediately been stuck o
n the idea.
Less than a month after contacting the company, they had sent him a picture. He slowed the mount, resting a hand lightly over his coat, right over his heart. On the inside pocket lay the fob watch he always carried. The one Char had given him last Christmas, and he had kept the picture of her. So beautiful. So graceful, and elegant, and lord help the person who crosses her. She burned with an inner fire that had drawn him like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist.
The past year with her had been the best of his life, she had turned his world upside down and he wouldn’t have it any other way. But things had gotten pretty rough the last couple of months, less food in the pantry, less wood to burn for fire. Winter had hit everywhere hard, even in California where the weather stays sunny all year round.
Sawyer had been sitting in the pub as Char went over to the local goods store and that’s when he had first heard the stories. People finding gold in the mountains of California. Just walking into the streams and coming out with handfuls full of the stuff. For weeks he had tried to get the thoughts out of his head, but no matter what he did, he could feel his compass pointing him even further West, almost all the way to the coast.
Finally, he told his wife he had to go, to try and make a better life for his family. She hadn’t understood, but tearfully, she had nodded, holding tight to him and making him promise that if he didn’t find anything he would turn right around and come home.
Well, he hadn’t found anything, and it had been over two months since he had last seen his wife’s beautiful grey eyes and that mouth that always seemed to get her in trouble. The thought had panic shooting through him again, but for another reason. She was in San Francisco, all alone. A beautiful woman riding helplessly into one of the roughest cities around. Since the rumor of gold had begun to spread, the city had exploded, and all types of the roughest, meanest sort of men had come, just like him, to strike it rich.
But most just ended up spending whatever little they did find on cheap whisky and cheaper women. And his wife was about to walk into all of that without anyone there to protect her, to look out for her.
With a grim expression on his normally smiling face, he clicked to Wildfire and set off at a gallop once more toward the horizon. There were only a few small problems. How to convince the stubborn woman to turn around and head back to their home without him, and how to hide the fact that he had been forced to turn outlaw, had in fact tried to rob her!
Sawyer gritted his teeth. One problem at a time, he told himself. First thing first, how to find his beautiful, headstrong, pregnant wife.
Chapter 3
It didn’t take as long as Charlotte expected to reach the border of the ramshackle city, and thankfully, they made it without any further incidences. She was still a little shaken by the odd would be robbery, and even more so by the man himself. There was something about him that seemed so familiar, as if she should know him. But that was impossible. She only knew one person in San Francisco, and she was fairly certain her lighthearted husband would never be able to stomach being an outlaw. He had turned green at the sight of their milk cow, Birdie, giving birth to her calf.
“Well, my dear, it’s been an absolute pleasure travelling with you. Are you sure you won’t come stay with us at the hotel?” Mrs. Fulbright stared at her, her gaze caring if a little birdlike.
“No, thank you, but no, I’m here on a mission. I don’t plan on staying long enough to need to rent a room.”
The kind couple smiled at each other, and then at her. The expressions on their old, lined faces almost identical. They both seemed to say, ‘oh, young love.’ With a view last goodbye waves and farewells, the Fulbright’s turned their wagon in the direction of the hotel, and Charlotte cast about for the nearest general store.
She had been unsure where to begin her search, but if San Francisco was anything like the other cities she had lived in, the goods store was always a mill of fresh gossip and rumor. As good a place to start as any, she thought with a shrug and a sigh as she headed in the direction of a big, hand painted sign that read ‘Welcome to Harry’s. If we don’t have it, you don’t want it’.
Charlotte paused for a moment at the door, refusing for a second to let doubts enter her mind at the enormity of the challenge she set for herself. She had read on the trip that the city’s population had exploded to over fifty thousand people. And she was trying to find a single one. I will find him, she promised herself. She wouldn’t let herself fail.
Finally, she reached out a hand, grasped the handle, and yanked. She pasted a huge smile on her full lips, trying to appear friendly, but the smile slipped a little at the several pair of dark, scowling eyes that turned in her direction.
“Hello, I was wondering if you had any information about–.”
“If you want to buy something, then buy something. If not, you can just turn yer pretty behind around and head back the other way. I’m tired of all these folks coming, and yapping, and hopin’ fer a free meal, or a free bed, or a free anything. Well, it ain’t free! So either buy, or get out!”
“Well, pardon me,” Charlotte said, aware of the temper flaring in her chest, the flush of anger turning her cheeks a bright pink. For a second, she tried to hold it back, telling herself it would be wiser to just turn around a leave without another word. But then her temper got the better of her. “Pardon me, sir. You can’t just talk to someone like that. You had no idea if I was going to be a customer or not, and for you to say those things, it’s just…it’s just bad business! It’s no wonder people don’t come in here to buy anything if the purveyor is just a rude lay about who does nothing but shout at prospective customers as soon as they walk through the door!” Charlotte paused to take a breath, noticing for the first time that she, herself, was shouting, her voice echoing loudly through the suddenly silent store.
Those eyes were all scowling even more fiercely now, and self-preservation finally kicked in as she took a hasty step back.
“Now, just see here, you–.”
“I really wouldn’t finish that sentence, good sir. And might I apologize for my wife. She’s pregnant, you know,” The voice said that last on a whisper, as if imparting a secret, and the other men stared for a moment before releasing the tension on a chuckle.
Charlotte’s head whipped around, drawn by the sound of the voice. A familiar voice. An achingly familiar voice. Her eyes landed on his face, and it was all she could see. Everything else in the whole world disappeared as he walked closer, his handsome features smiling down at her with a mixed bag of emotions too tangled for her to interpret.
But her own emotions were going haywire inside her as she found her feet suddenly propelling her forward until she was jumping up into his waiting arms. He swung her around once before setting her back on her feet, but he didn’t let go. Squeezing her so tight it was almost hard for her to breath, but for the first time in over two months, her world felt right.
“What are you…how are you…?” Charlotte gaped up at him after he finally released her.
“Why don’t we talk outside, when you don’t have about six people glaring at you.” Sawyer took her hand, lacing his fingers tightly with hers, and directed her out of the shop with one last grateful look at the shop keeper. They just made it outside when Char turned on him.
“Alright, Sawyer. I want answers. How did you find me? Why didn’t you come home? Wait a minute,” She paused, her mind stuck on something he’d said. “How the hell do you know I’m pregnant!?”
Sawyer looked at her, his mouth moving but no sound was coming out. Finally, he walked over to a short fence winding its way around the store and sat, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. He looked up at her from under lowered brows, as if he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Listen, Char. It’s a long story…”
“I’ve got all the time in the world, Sawyer. What aren’t you telling me?”
“I came out here, so full of hope. So full of…anyways, things didn’t exactly work out the way I
had planned. I had to,” he paused again, swallowing hard. “I had to do some things I didn’t like. I didn’t hurt anyone, but I fell in with this gang, so to speak.”
“A gang. So to speak.” He flinched at the sarcasm in her words, but she gestured for him to continue with his story.
“Yes, a gang. They were robbers, bandits. But we never hurt anyone. We just steal a little, just enough to live on. Just until we find gold.”
“Bandits.” She said, and Sawyer nodded his head dolefully. “Robbers.” Charlotte repeated his words again, and again, he nodded. Suddenly, it all made sense.
“Oh my word, it was you! It was you all along, outside of the city. With the mask, and the gun! Sawyer!” She marked the word with a slap to his chest that was hard enough to have him leaning backwards.
“I can’t believe you would try to rob me!” Each word came with its own blow and by the time she was done he had his hands wrapped protectively around himself and she was standing there, her fiery red hair undone from the prim bun she’d had it in to tumble around her shoulders, and her breaths came in little pants. She made a gurgling sound and he risked a peek up at her, relaxing slightly as he realized she was laughing.
A loud, full body chuckle rolled out of her and she looked up at him as he stood, safe now, her grey eyes crinkling with humor.
“You made a terrible robber, Sawyer. It’s a good thing I’m here to take you home.”
“What!” He said in mock effrontery. “I am an excellent bandit, I’ll have you know.” He grabbed her hand again, because he didn’t want her to start hitting him again, and because he couldn’t go another minute without touching her. He had missed her so bad. As if he had ripped out his heart and left it behind when he had left.
“Listen Char, you have to go back. You have to go back home.”
“I know. We are, Sawyer. We have a baby on the way, you know,” She said, her voice suddenly soft. On impulse, he threw his arms around her.
