In the Sheriff's Protection

by Lauri Robinson

A sickening sensation rippled her stomach. She’d never made the connection of the men eating at the hotel like Tom had, and really didn’t want, in any way, to encourage any of them to think she might possibly be interested in getting married again. She wasn’t and never would be.

  She peeked out the door, and a smile touched her lips as her eyes settled on table number four. Angus waved. She crossed the room and stopped at his table. Of all the people in Oak Grove, she would miss him the most. Well, second most.

  “Compliment the cook?” she asked.

  His eyes sparkled as brightly as his silver hair. “I just checked on the lad. He’s sound asleep.” Reaching over, he pulled out a chair. “And you know I don’t like eating alone.” With a grin, he pointed to the extra plate at his table. “You never know which meal might be my last.”

  “Angus O’Leary,” she said. “You’re too sly for even your Maker.”

  He chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be dandy? Eat up, lass, while it’s still hot. That’s some of the best fried chicken that ever crossed my lips.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t. Billy has to be hungry by now.”

  “Well, then, I must admit, I had Bella give me a helping for the lad, and sat with him while he ate it.”

  “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “Fried chicken is his favorite.”

  “He said that.” Angus shook his head. “I dare say, when it comes to wee ones, lads that is, there is very little left to the imagination. Why, if me own dear sweet ma knew about all the things I did as a lad, all the things I climbed, I may not be here to tell you about it.”

  “I can believe you were a handful.” Sitting down, she added, “And that you had her as wrapped around your finger as you do most of the women in town.”

  “Aw, you’re a smart one, on to me already.”

  The wink of his aging eye made her giggle. “As are you.”

  His expression grew thoughtful. “You know what I’ve learned, lass? That there are some people who are just plain mean and nasty for no real reason, and then there are those who are kind and sincere, but when something happens and they’re hurting, or they believe someone they care about is hurting, they can say things that they wouldn’t otherwise say. Do things, too.”

  “If you’re referring to—”

  “I’m not referring to anyone, other than meself.”

  Certain he’d been talking about Tom, she asked, “You?”

  “Yes.” Nodding and frowning, he said, “Me.”

  “What did you do?”

  He leaned back in his chair and cast a sorrowful gaze her way. “I may have started a rumor.”

  “A rumor? You?”

  “Yes.”

  Having not heard anything out of the ordinary or any spiteful gossip, she asked, “What sort of rumor?”

  “Well, lass, I’ve gotten quite attached to you and your lad, and after learning from our own mayor that you will be receiving a reward, well, I got to worry that you might be considering leaving our quaint little town.” Letting out a heavy sigh, he said, “So, I may have made mention that you might be looking for a new husband.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I may have.”

  “May or did?”

  “A man who’s never been in love before does funny things, because he’s not thinking straight. It’s that way for women, too. Kind of like a dog that’s eating something it shouldn’t and someone reaches down to grab it away. They’re gonna get bit. Folks say you can’t blame the dog. That you gotta blame the person. Yet the person didn’t know any better, either, ’cause they were just as focused on what the dog was eating as the dog was. So, my question is, what was that dog chewing on anyway?”

  Clara shook her head, trying to grasp what he had said, and the meaning behind it. Then it hit. The dog he referred to was chewing on things she’d said. Tom was hurting because of what she said. Billy was hurt because of what she said. Things that had hurt them. She of all people knew inner wounds could hurt worse and take longer to heal than outside wounds. She owed them both more than an apology. She owed them the truth.

  Angus grinned and sighed. “The truth will set you free.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tom sat at his desk, twirling his badge between his thumb and finger. He’d blamed Clara for Billy’s accident, and that was as wrong as everything else he’d done. In fact, he hadn’t done a whole lot right lately.

  Stopping the badge from spinning, he held it by one point, staring at the bullet lodged in the center. The new one he’d ordered had arrived, but he hadn’t pinned it on yet. This old badge may have saved his life, but it was also the reason that bullet had been fired at him.

  He flipped the badge around a couple of times. It wasn’t very big, but he’d been hiding behind this tiny hunk of metal for years. Julia’s death was the reason he’d first pinned a badge on, because he’d wanted to catch her killer. And he’d kept one pinned on ever since because he’d never wanted to feel that sort of pain ever again. Behind that badge, he didn’t need to feel. Behind that badge, everything was justifiable.

  Over the years, he’d let this little chunk of metal grow until it fully encircled him. Consumed him. Made him believe the law, being a sheriff, gave him everything he needed, wanted. It had worked because there was something about a badge, about a lawman, that kept people at a distance. Even here, in Oak Grove. He was respected, even liked, but even here, everyone identified him as Sheriff Baniff, not Tom Baniff. He never minded that. It kept things neat and simple, and it gave him protection.

  Until he met Clara. That little piece of metal may have stopped a bullet, but it hadn’t been capable of stopping him from falling in love with her. It couldn’t stop him from loving her, either.

  Or from being jealous. Even before she’d woken up from her injury, he’d been jealous of Hugh Wilson. He hadn’t realized it, nor would he have admitted it, but it was the truth. And he was jealous of all the men eating at the restaurant. Which was unjustified because they’d always eaten there.

  The last two weeks of staying clear of her had been hell. He kept telling himself that was how it had to be. What she wanted. What he wanted. But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all.

  The walls of his office had become like a prison. He’d even come to hate this badge, blame it, but what he failed to realize was it wasn’t the badge’s fault. It was his.

  A man was his own man no matter what his occupation. He’d told Clara she was strong enough to do whatever she wanted. Well, it was time he gave himself that same advice.

  Tossing the badge onto his desk, he stood and walked to the door. On the boardwalk, he nodded to those who looked his way, but kept his focus on the hotel up the road. The dinner rush had to be over by now. If not, he’d wait.

  He was half a block away when Josiah walked out of the hotel, with Bella Armentrout on his arm. Tom’s ears burned remembering the rude things he’d said about her. He hadn’t meant them. He’d never stooped so low and never would again.

  “Evening, Sheriff,” Josiah said.

  “Sheriff,” Bella added.

  “Evening.”

  “If you’re hoping for some fried chicken, I’m afraid it’s all gone,” Bella said.

  “I’m not hungry,” Tom replied.

  “Stop by my office tomorrow, will you?” Josiah asked. “That reward money should have already arrived for Mrs. Wilson. You need to check into that. With that kind of money, several men might be interested in marrying her.”

  Refusing to acknowledge another flare of jealousy at the idea of Clara marrying someone else, Tom said, “She refused the reward.”

  “What? Why?” Josiah asked.

  “It was her choice.” He had a choice, too. Tom stepped around them and entered the hotel.

  “Oh, hello, Sheriff,” Rollie said. “I’m sorr
y, but we’re out of fried chicken. There is—”

  “Where’s Clara?”

  Rollie’s eyes grew wide as he pointed toward the stairs. Tom’s heels didn’t hit a step as he bounded up them. A moment of sensibility came to him as he arrived at her door. Billy was most likely sleeping, so he only knocked once, softly.

  The door opened. Afraid Clara would close it again, he grasped her arm. “We need to talk.”

  “Excuse me, Sheriff.”

  Tom twisted. Angus hadn’t been there a moment ago. How the old man could appear out of nowhere was almost as wearisome as his riddles. Just last week, he’d spouted one off about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. Tom had caught on to that one quick enough, knowing Angus referred to Clara cooking for all the bachelors in town.

  “The lad’s sleeping, so why don’t you and the lass use my room?” Angus had stepped around him and was already pushing the door open wider and shoving Clara out. “I’ll sit with the lad.”

  The door to Angus’s room was open, so Tom pulled Clara that way.

  “Hold up,” Angus said. “The lass dropped these.”

  Tom grabbed the envelopes in his free hand and ushered Clara into Angus’s room with the other, then kicked the door shut.

  “Still mad, I see.”

  His stomach fell. He tossed the envelopes on the table and let her loose. “I’m not mad. I’m—”

  “Mad.”

  “Fine, I’m mad. But not at you. I’m mad at myself for the way I’ve acted. I apologize for what I said earlier.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. What man in his right mind asked for this? Asked to fall in love? He sure hadn’t, but he had. He’d fallen. Head over heels, damned if I do, damned if I don’t, in love with her. Tossing his hat on the table, he said, “I didn’t mean any of it, and shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. I’m sorry. Very sorry.”

  She walked around the table, stopping on the opposite side from him. Then, without a word, she took the glass globe off the top of the lamp. He hoped that lighting the lamp was a signal she was willing to talk, because it wasn’t that dark outside yet.

  Once the flame was going, she replaced the globe and looked at him. “I’m sorry, too, Tom.”

  “For what?” He’d been the one in the wrong, not her. “You didn’t—”

  “Yes, I did. I said things I shouldn’t have. They caused Billy to get hurt—”

  “That was an accident.” She had to understand that. “I should never have said that was your fault because it wasn’t. Little boys get hurt. People get hurt. You can’t be blaming yourself for that. No one can.”

  “I can, because it’s true. And that’s what scares me.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Clara.”

  “There is for me.” She turned and walked to the window. “Since the moment I met Hugh I’ve been afraid. With reason. He approached our wagon in a small town in Nebraska, told my father that for a fee he’d protect us from the Indians. When my father declined, he said, ‘I warned you.’ Ever since then, he kept warning me. And those warnings kept coming true. My parents. Uncle Walter.”

  The fury Tom had hosted toward Hugh returned, tenfold. Along with compassion for Clara. “He’ll never hurt you again, Clara, I swear to you.”

  “He even had the dog killed because he’d warned me that anyone, anything, that tried to protect me would die.”

  She turned around. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Tom wanted to kick himself for all the time he’d spent hiding behind his badge rather than letting her know what had been happening, how he’d been protecting her.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, Tom, and why I said I had to get as far away from you as possible. I don’t want you to die while protecting me.”

  “Hugh’s in Leavenworth, with no hope of parole.” He started to walk around the table, but she held up a hand.

  “I know he is, but his warnings aren’t.” Walking to the table, she picked up one of the two envelopes and handed it to him. “I’d like you to read this.”

  He didn’t want to read anything, but the pleading in her eyes made his spine tingle as he took the envelope. Opening it, he pulled out several folded pages. The first thing he did was flip to the last page to see whom it was from. There could be more going on in Wyoming than he was privy to.

  The letter was from Karen Ryan. He glanced up at Clara.

  “It arrived this afternoon,” she said, “but I just read it a few minutes ago.”

  Tom read swiftly, past the niceties and assurances that the cows and chickens were fine. Then he slowed in order to catch each word about the men who’d stopped at the Ryans’, looking for Clara and Billy, and about how Sheriff Puddicombe had been out to their place, too. Ultimately, Puddicombe had captured the men. The letter ended with Karen stating that as soon as they received the reward money for helping Puddicombe capture the men, they would like to buy Clara’s ranch, if she was interested in selling it.

  Tom had no sooner finished reading the last line when Clara said, “Hugh had warned me they’d come, and they did. And I’m sure there will be others.”

  “No, there won’t be,” Tom said. He’d already known most of what he’d just read, but hadn’t told her because a lawman couldn’t share information about an ongoing investigation. Which was nothing more than an excuse. One he was now ashamed of.

  He laid the letter down on the table. “While in Hendersonville, I asked Puddicombe to be on the alert, and to inform the Montana authorities about the Double Bar-S. He did, and besides those men Karen Ryan wrote about, several others have been arrested. The Double Bar-S ranch foreman had been cycling stolen money, making it almost impossible to track. He’s in jail, and if they haven’t already been arrested, posses are on the trails of any gang he’d been working with.”

  She stared at the envelope for a few moments before looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Because you’d already been through enough.” As soon as he said the words, he knew it wasn’t enough. Not for her or him. It was time he stopped hiding the truth. “And because I love you, Clara.” He started to walk around the table. “I’m not sure how it happened, or when, but it did. I fell in love with you. And with my love comes my protection. Anyone who ever had anything to do with Hugh will never come near you again.”

  She covered her mouth with both hands as he rounded the table.

  “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want you to know until the last one has been caught.” Stopping in front of her, he admitted, “Because I thought once that happened, once I knew for certain that you’d be safe, I could stop loving you. But I was wrong. That will never happen. I’ll never stop loving you.”

  * * *

  Clara kept both hands pressed against her mouth, afraid if she said a word, a single word, Tom might disappear. That this all was merely a dream. Taking a breath, she determined there was only one way to find out. Sliding her hands off her mouth, she said, “I’ll never stop loving you, either, Tom.” The smile that flashed across his face reminded her of the first time she’d seen him. The moment it had all begun. “Do you remember the morning I woke up, when you and Billy gave me breakfast in bed?”

  He took both of her hands. “Yes.”

  “That was when I fell in love with you. You and he were eating breakfast in the other room and you were telling him the important things a man needed to know. You entered my heart right then and there, and haven’t left since.” Squeezing his hands tightly, she added, “That was also the moment I started fearing for your life.”

  She wasn’t certain if he moved first or if she did, but either way, they were in each other’s arms. Holding on to one another as tightly as they could.

  Tom kissed the top of her head, the side of her face, and then her lips. She hadn’t realized how strong, how
encompassing, her love for him was until that moment, when every ounce of her being became consumed by kissing him in return.

  She was breathless and still wanted more when Tom ended the kiss and grasped her face with both hands.

  “As soon as I got to Hendersonville, I sent a horse and wagon back for you, but you’d already left. Why?”

  She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “Because not knowing wasn’t enough,” she admitted. “I had to know that you’d made it to Oak Grove safely. I hadn’t even found those stolen items yet, didn’t go looking for them until...”

  “Until what?”

  “Until I’d already decided to come to Oak Grove.” She released his wrists to wrap her arms around his waist again. “It was just like you described. The town. The people.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “The choice is yours. We can stay here, or go back to Wyoming.”

  Leaning back, she asked, “Why would I want to go back to Wyoming?”

  “Because you said it was home. If that’s where you want to be, then that’s where you should be.” He shrugged. “It’ll take a while to build up a herd of cattle, but I have money saved. We’ll get by.”

  He was amazing. So wonderful and kind and caring, and unselfish. “I don’t want to go back to Wyoming,” she said. “I’ll gladly sell my land to the Ryans. I fell in love with you because of who you are, and you are as much a part of this town as—” She glanced around the room. “Angus O’Leary. I would never expect you to give that up for me.”

  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give up for you, Clara, nothing at all.”

  He was an honest man, and she didn’t doubt his words in the least. Leaning against his chest again, she asked, “Oh, Tom, why have the past weeks been so awful? Why didn’t we just admit we loved each other?”

  “Because we were trying to protect each other,” he said softly. “And ourselves. I thought I had everything I could ever want, until I met you and realized I didn’t have a single thing I wanted. That scared me.”

  His admission had her hugging him tighter, even though she couldn’t imagine him being afraid of anything.