A Sheriff's Passion

by Michelle Beattie

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Your ma helped us when mine died. She came for a spell, washed clothes, taught us to look after ourselves while pa was at work. We’d have been lost without her. This is the least I can do.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. I know you’ll have to work extra now to make up for this.”

  Something in his gaze, nothing more than a flicker, set off an alarm in her head. “What? This is your money, isn’t it?”

  He blinked. “Yes.”

  “But how did you get it?”

  She stared him down until finally he confessed. “You know as well I do, Sil, that no matter how hard we work there’s never enough money.” He shuffled his feet. “It wasn’t planned. It’s not like we went out with the intent of stealing.” He shrugged. “It just happened.”

  “Stealing just happened?” She gaped. “What were you thinking?”

  Bitterness carved into his face. “I was thinking that I’m damn sick and tired of being hungry, of living hand-to-mouth with nothing to show for my efforts. I was thinking of my aunt dying in a drafty, dingy cabin while my cousin starved herself. I was thinking those men in their fancy suits and expensive carriage could spare what was in their pockets.”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach where the broth churned like a raging river.

  “John Paul, I don’t want any part of this.”

  They were managing. Well, not really, but she’d quit the saloon because Mr. Hendricks’ son, who’d taken over after her pa died, wanted more from her than cleaning. She hadn’t refused to lower herself into prostitution only to turn around and profit from thievery. Dammit, she had principles.

  “Sil, you need it. Nobody can accuse of you stealing it as you were here the whole time. Take it, if not for you then for Aunt Janet.”

  Even as she shook her head, determined to refuse it, her ma’s body convulsed and another coughing bout consumed her.

  She scurried over, lifted her mother lest she choke on what her body was desperate to cough up. Tears pooled in her eyes.

  John Paul walked over. “Take the money. Try that other doctor. Maybe he can help.”

  She sniffled. “What if he can’t?”

  John Paul’s gaze pierced hers. “What if he can?”

  He left while she clung to her ma, clung and prayed and kissed her heated brow. Every bout of coughing seemed to drag on longer than the last. Her ma was exhausted when it was over. But not too wrung out to whimper. It was the pitiful moaning that had Sil’s gaze going to the table.

  “I’ll get you help, ma. I’ll do whatever I have to.”

  Silver hung her head. She’d taken the money and she’d fetched the new doctor. He’d promised all manner of cures and desperate to keep her ma alive, Silver had tried them all. All of them would have been impossible without John Paul bringing her money. She’d stopped asking where it had come from. Even knowing it was wrong, even knowing she was lying to herself, she’d convinced herself he was only taking money from rich people who could spare it. And she only ever accepted enough to get what her ma needed. She didn’t profit from his stealing; she only wanted her ma to get better.

  But Janet never did.

  Sighing, Silver covered the boxes with the floorboards. She’d kept track of the money she’d used and the moment Silver’s had started to show a profit she’d begun saving to repay it. She had no idea who to trust with it or how to go about giving it back, but eventually, and soon, she needed to figure that out. It wasn’t hers, had never been hers, and she wanted to see it returned.

  Of course there was the tricky part. Returning it without incriminating herself. One day soon she hoped the answer would come to her. Then maybe the lingering guilt would finally disappear and she’d truly be free of the past once and for all.

  She shoved the dresser back where it had been. With nothing more to keep her busy, and still not the least bit tired, Silver went down the short hallway to the door that led to her back stairway. She didn’t normally use it as an entrance. If the saloon was closed she went through the kitchen door but the she liked the idea of this one in case of fire. And for times like these when she could enjoy the dark without worrying about her safety.

  It was a pretty night, warm, with a veil of stars winking in the black sky. The moon was bright, a white orb that allowed her to see the silver coyote, or perhaps it was a wolf, prowl through the field behind her saloon in search of mice and small game. The whoo-whoo of a nearby owl confirmed the coyote wasn’t the only animal out on the hunt. Silver settled onto the small square landing, braced her elbows on the rail and breathed in the scent of the nearby pines.

  Alone, with nothing but her thoughts, it didn’t take long for Silver to realize how much she needed her friends, especially Jillian. They’d formed a quick bond, as they’d both been in need of female companionship their own age and someone they could share secrets with. A friend they could lean on. Silver could sure use Jillian’s shoulder now.

  Not only did Jillian know of Silver’s feelings toward Shane, but she knew about hers and Shane’s first kiss. But now there’d been another and Shane’s admission that he had no reason for her not to spend time with Mitch. Though it wasn’t Mitch she really wanted to spend time with.

  Silver’s sigh drifted into the night.

  Time slipped by, like the inky pillows of clouds in the sky. She heard the frantic beat of wings whooshing overhead and cringed when they got too close for her liking. Her hands were chilled, so were her ankles. She was glad she’d thought to put on her shawl at least but despite that it would be wise to go in before she caught cold. She was deliberating the wisdom of going in now versus waiting another ten minutes when something much too large to be an animal moved below her.

  She jerked. Then, heart lurching, stood completely still. The moon was bright enough for her to be seen should the wanderer look up. Though she could easily secure herself inside before the stranger would have a chance to climb the stairs, she nevertheless didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She didn’t breathe a full breath until whomever it was crept further from her saloon.

  Silver did, however, keep her eye on the person. In her estimation, only a criminal would creep about in the dark at this time of night. Although... Silver leaned further against the railing, peered hard into the shadows and when she was certain of what she was seeing, shook her head. What woman in her right mind would skulk around alone at this hour?

  Just as she thought it the woman’s right side suddenly dipped. She yelped then fell to the ground with a loud thud followed by a louder moan.

  Oh, for pity’s sake, now the fool was hurt. What did she think was going to happen, walking in the dark without a light? Silver sighed. Fool or not, it was possible the woman twisted her ankle from the way she fell and needed help. And not wanting to get herself hurt in the process, Silver dipped inside to grab a lantern and her Colt in case the wolf or coyote returned.

  When Silver stepped back outside with the light held high, she heard the woman’s loud groan. Thinking the woman must have hurt herself worse than Silver realized, she hurried down the steps. But when Silver’s feet hit the ground the woman was already standing and shaking out her skirt.

  “I’m all right,” the woman shouted. “Go back inside.”

  Silver knew that voice! And knowing it, and not feeling particularly warm toward its owner, she marched forward.

  “Have you lost all sense?” Silver demanded when she was close enough not to have to yell. “A wolf walked through here not long ago.” Actually Silver still wasn’t sure if it had been that or a coyote but figured Melissa needed to know how foolish she’d been. She raised the lantern higher saw Melissa’s hands were empty. “You’re not carrying a light or a weapon. What if you’d been seriously hurt and I hadn’t happened to be outside at the time?”

  “Please don’t pretend you care,” Melissa said, swiping at a lock of dark hair that had fallen from its pins when she’d fallen. “We both know you don’t.”
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  She didn’t care? Silver fumed. Melissa didn’t go out of her way to be friendly, either. In fact, at every available opportunity she—

  Silver tucked her Colt into her skirt, grabbed Melissa’s wrist, and held the woman’s arm up as she brought the light closer. Melissa’s sleeve was torn and blood spotted the pale green blouse.

  “You’re hurt,” she stated.

  “I know,” Melissa retorted, pulling her arm back. She yanked her shawl back up onto her shoulder. “My arm scraped a rock when I fell.”

  Silver and the Lake’s had arrived in Marietta close to the same time. From the beginning, the only times Melissa had spoken to Silver had been to gloat about the attention Shane gave her. If it wasn’t about him betting on her baskets it was how he loved the sweets she brought him.

  Silver didn’t like the woman, far from it, but Melissa was hurt and as they were both awake...

  “Come inside and we’ll get it cleaned and bandaged.”

  Melissa’s dark eyes went wide. “You want me to go into the saloon?”

  Oh, for the love of—

  “The saloon is closed for the night, Melissa. We can do this in the kitchen without you even going into the saloon. But if even that upsets your sensibilities, we can go straight upstairs to my living quarters. Or, you can go home and do it yourself.” She jammed her free hand onto her hip. “The choice is yours but I’d prefer you make a decision before that wolf comes back this way.”

  Melissa worriedly looked about and, as though she finally realized just how vulnerable they were standing there in the dark, she shuddered. She looked almost apologetic when she finally met Silver’s gaze.

  “Ma’s a light sleeper; it’s lucky I slipped out without her knowing. If I start rummaging for bandages and she hears water splashing, I’m sure to wake her and if she saw this...” Melissa shook her head. “She’d only worry.”

  Worry about a small scrape? That seemed excessive to Silver but she didn’t pry. Truly she was starting to feel uneasy standing there and she just wanted Melissa to make a decision.

  “Well? Upstairs or kitchen?” Silver asked.

  Melissa gave a resigned sigh. “The kitchen sounds fine.”

  “Good. Then let’s get inside.”

  Silver left Melissa outside the kitchen door and hurried up the back stairs. She secured the door behind her, strode down the hallway then down the curving staircase into her saloon. Her heels clicked loudly against the floor as she made her way to the kitchen. She closed the connecting door to the saloon then let Melissa inside. After locking up behind Melissa, Silver set her Colt on the counter then lit another lamp. The kitchen filled with light.

  Her lips twitched when Melissa gasped, “My goodness, I didn’t expect this.”

  “Nobody does,” Silver said as she dipped a finger into the large kettle. The water was lukewarm but it would have to do, as she didn’t want to stoke a fire in the stove at this time of night.

  As she dug out bandages, towels, and a bowl, she watched Melissa take it all in. The fancy stove, the thick wooden table, the acres of counter space and the shelves that displayed her pretty dishes. As the saloon didn’t offer meals, the kitchen was obviously only for Silver’s personal use.

  “It must be a dream to cook with all this space.”

  Melissa trailed her fingers over the counter. Her eyes had gone dreamy. Silver knew exactly how the woman felt. Even though she’d designed the room, had been involved in the building of it, when she’d first seen it complete, it had taken her breath away as well.

  Having been raised in a small shack, Silver knew exactly how fortunate she was and, every time she rolled out a piecrust or made a batch of bread, she appreciated the fact she had the room to do so without knocking over the flour with her elbow. Though the house Melissa shared with her parents was hardly a hovel, no doubt she had the same problem Silver had struggled with back home.

  Silver splashed some water into a basin then set it on the table next to the lamp, towels, salve, and bandages she’d already gathered. She pulled out a chair and sat in the one next to it.

  “If you’re ready, we should probably start with cleaning your arm.”

  Melissa took her seat, then with pursed lips slowly rolled up her torn sleeve.

  Silver leaned forward, had a look at the scrape. It wasn’t especially long, no more than a finger’s length, and it didn’t appear too deep. Though it wasn’t serious by any means, Silver knew from experience that sometimes the smaller scrapes stung the most.

  “It’s not as bad as I thought. The bleeding’s already stopped,” Silver said.

  She moved the basin over and Melissa set her arm inside, wincing when her torn flesh hit the tepid water.

  “I know,” Silver commiserated. “But once we get it clean and bandaged it’ll feel better.”

  She dipped the cloth into the water. “Lift your arm, but keep your elbow in the basin,” she instructed. “We don’t need water dripping everywhere.”

  Melissa’s dark eyes watched Silver closely. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me.”

  Silver looked up from her ministrations. “I’d say you’ve made it abundantly clear those feelings go both ways and yet here you are. So I suppose I can ask you the same question.”

  Because Silver didn’t expect an answer, she continued to clean the scrape. When she was convinced she’d done a thorough job, she opened her jar of salve and as gently as she could, spread the balm over the raw abrasion. Then she put on a bandage, secured it with a thin strip of cloth around Melissa’s forearm.

  “I’m no doctor, but I’ve found a day or two wrapped is plenty. It needs air to heal.”

  Melissa nodded. She stood, rolled her sleeve over the bandage, and buttoned the cuff on her blouse. Holding her arm at her side she asked, “Can you see that I’m wearing a bandage?”

  Silver had no idea why that should matter until she remembered Melissa saying her ma would worry if she saw the scrape. Why the woman would fuss over something so small made no sense to Silver but Melissa’s concern over her mother finding out was very apparent.

  Knowing a thing or two about not wanting to worry a mother, Silver pushed her chair back, rose.

  She looked closely at Melissa’s arm. “If you wear a dark blouse, preferably one with less form-fitting sleeves, nobody should be the wiser.”

  That seemed to ease her mind. “I have a few blouses that will work.”

  Then suddenly there they were, two women who didn’t like one another standing in Silver’s kitchen with nothing left to say.

  “You should probably get on home now,” Silver suggested. “It’s late.”

  Melissa pushed her shoulders back. “Yes, of course.” She gestured to the items on the table. “Can I help you with this first?”

  “It’s nothing, won’t take but a minute.”

  “All right.” Melissa headed for the back door. She turned as she reached it. “Was there really a wolf out there?”

  “Or coyote. I couldn’t tell which in the dark.”

  Melissa worried her lip. “Well, I’m sure it’s long gone by now.” She turned, unlocked the door. For a moment she simply stared at it. Instead of opening it, however, she faced Silver again.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. I don’t want—”

  “Don’t worry,” Silver interrupted, her own back going straight. “Nobody will know you lowered yourself by coming inside.”

  “I appreciate that,” Melissa said and turned to go.

  “Wait.” Silver wasn’t sure what possessed her to stop the woman.

  Honestly, she should just let her go but the fact remained Melissa was unarmed and it was an ungodly hour for her to be strolling the street. Grey’s would be closing soon and it wasn’t wise for a woman to be about when the kind of men his saloon attracted spilled out. Besides, something had driven Melissa to walk alone and unarmed and, while Silver couldn’t fathom what that could possibly be, she nevertheless under
stood the need to get out when the walls felt as though they were closing in.

  Sighing, Silver marched over, picked up a shotgun from the corner and held it out to Melissa. “Take this. You can bring it back to me in the morning.”

  Melissa’s dark eyes jumped from the gun to Silver. “I don’t know how to use a gun.”

  “Well that’s just nonsense.” Silver sputtered. What grown woman didn’t know how to handle a weapon? “Why not?” she demanded.

  “Ma won’t have it.”

  Silver knew Melissa’s parents and while she’d always thought of Mrs. Lake as meek, she’d never have considered her foolish. What kind of mother wouldn’t allow her daughter to be taught to defend herself if necessary?

  Shaking her head, Silver gestured toward the open door. “Fine, then I’ll walk you home.”

  Dark brows arched. “You will?”

  “Yes,” Silver sighed, thinking this was the strangest night she’d ever had. “Then I’ll know you made it safely.”

  “What about you, coming back alone?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Silver said, “I know how to shoot.”

  Marietta remained quiet, however, and they had no trouble crossing Main Street. At the boardinghouse, they turned left and made their way toward the rows of houses. It was a good thing it was dark and everyone was asleep, as surely there wasn’t a more surprising sight than Silver Adams and Melissa Lake walking side by side.

  Because Silver hadn’t worked a late night, she was up earlier than usual. Once dressed, she opened her bedroom curtains to the morning sun and sighed as the warmth fell onto her cheeks. Through the opened window, she heard the busy sounds of a town going about its business. With hours yet until she opened her saloon, Silver thought perhaps once she finished her breakfast she’d visit Letty. Or see if the reverend needed her help with anything. She supposed she could go for a ride. It didn’t really matter which, she thought as she sat at her dressing table and brushed out her long blond hair, as long as she did something to keep her mind from dwelling on Shane, or nearly as disconcerting, her late night visit with Melissa.