“Are you certain?”
“The ladies of Cowboy Creek deserve beautiful hats.”
“Then we’ll hire a proper milliner.”
Tomasina lifted a hand and tenderly cupped his jaw. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No. You deserve someone far better.”
He silenced her objections with a kiss. She stood on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck, returning his ardent embrace with all the hunger and passion she possessed.
He’d lived in Cowboy Creek for years, and yet he’d only just come home.
Caught up in each other and the wonder of their newfound love, he ignored the commotion outside.
After a moment Tomasina pulled back. “What was that?”
Will glanced up. “Did you hear something?”
Her face paled. “That was gunshots.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Will clasped Tomasina’s hand, and they dashed toward the center of town. Other townsfolk from the party joined them, and they followed the crowd. A gathering of people stood in front of the bank. The two deputies were there, but Sheriff Quincy was conspicuously absent.
“What happened?” Tomasina counted seven bullet holes riddling the bank façade. “Was anyone hurt?”
“It was the Murdochs,” Deputy Watson said. “We were preparing to transfer Zeb up to Morgan’s Creek. The Murdochs must have found out.”
The second deputy, Buck Hanley, guffawed. “Probably because D.B. ran a story in the paper last night. He might as well have issued the Murdochs an invitation.”
Will rubbed the back of his neck. D.B. had attended the meeting when they’d decided to transfer Zeb. He must have written the story immediately. The man was trouble through and through. Will scanned the crowd. D.B. was circulating among the onlookers, but he didn’t show any signs of involving himself in the fray. Once the posse returned, there was going to be a reckoning.
Deputy Watson scowled. “The Murdochs split up and came at us from both sides. Half of them swarmed the jail. While we were distracted, they robbed the bank.”
“What about injuries?” Will asked. “Did they get away with anything?”
“A little money. Not much. But they took Zeb. Horace was right—Zeb wasn’t as sick as he led us to believe. He knocked out one of the guards during the escape.” The deputy paused. “Sheriff Quincy was shot.”
Will sucked in a breath. “How bad?”
“Don’t know. He was gut shot.”
Dread weakened his knees. Will had seen plenty of wounds during the war, and a gut shot was the most uncertain. Sometimes the bullet missed vital organs, most times it didn’t. Though a shot like that was more often than not mortal, there was still a chance Quincy might pull through. A slim chance, but Will wasn’t giving up on the man yet.
Unable to do more, Will uttered a silent prayer for the man’s recovery.
Daniel dashed toward them. “I heard the shots, and Walter Fry filled me in on what happened. I’ve sent for Noah. The rest of the fellows are putting together a posse.”
Will took Tomasina’s hand. “I have to go.”
“I know,” she said. “So do I.”
The realization took a second to sink in.
His gaze dipped. “You can’t go with me. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m the best tracker you’ve got. I know the terrain better than anyone. I know where cattle hide and can sure find where a man is hiding.” She squeezed his hands. “This is your first test, Will Canfield. If you want me as your wife, you have to accept me for who I am.”
“All right. You’re coming.” He cupped her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. “But you follow orders just like everyone else. We stay safe. You and I have a lifetime together. Let’s make it a long one.”
“Yes, sir.” She winked at him and saluted. “At your command, sir.”
He pressed a quick, hard kiss against her lips.
“Everyone change clothes and fetch your guns,” Will called. “I want the posse saddled and mustered at the livery in half an hour. If you’re not there, we leave without you.”
Spurred into action, the entire town went to work. Nels Patterson packed food for the posse while Leah and Pippa gathered supplies. Over at the livery, Walter Frye saddled the horses and added extra feedbags.
Mrs. Foster assisted Tomasina into a split skirt and she strapped on her gun belts.
“You be careful,” the housekeeper ordered. “You promised to show me how to rope. A lady needs a few tricks up her sleeve if the guests get out of hand.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you to lasso with the best of them.”
Moments later Tomasina was mounted on her horse outside the livery a full five minutes before the allotted time.
Will reined his horse beside her. Eight other men were saddled and ready for the search party. Noah joined them, his saddlebags packed and a bedroll tied behind his cantle.
Remmy caught sight of Tomasina and gaped. “Are you in the posse?”
“I’m the best tracker in Kansas,” she said, lifting her chin. “Without me, you’ll lose the trail before sundown.”
“Then welcome aboard,” Remmy replied. “I like to sleep in my own bed at night.”
Daniel sidled his horse nearer. “With Sheriff Quincy laid up, who’s leading the posse? We need a temporary sheriff.”
“What about the deputies?” Will gestured toward the two men. “There’s Buck Hanley and Timothy Watson.”
“They’re too young. Too green. We can’t afford any mistakes,” Daniel said. “We need someone who can pull the town together. A real leader.”
“Then you.”
“I can’t.” Daniel shook his head. “Not with Leah in her condition. Why not you? You were the captain.”
Will met Tomasina’s amused gaze. “My schedule is full.”
Daniel shrugged. “Then it’s you, Noah.”
Noah jerked the reins, and his horse sidestepped. “Not happening.”
“It’s only temporary.”
“What if Quincy dies?” Noah settled his jumpy horse. “What then? I don’t have time to serve as sheriff.”
“Let’s not dig Quincy’s grave just yet.” Will rested his elbow on the saddle horn. “We don’t know how bad he’s shot.”
A lengthy pause followed. Noah appeared to be grappling with some inner conflict. His two friends waited without comment.
Walter Fry trotted toward them. “Who’s leading the posse?”
“I’ll do it.” Noah’s tone was grudging. “But the job is only temporary. Once we catch the Murdochs, I’m done.”
“Agreed.”
Will and Daniel exchanged a triumphant glance.
Will placed one hand near his mouth and hollered, “All in favor of Noah Burgess as sheriff say ‘aye.’”
A deafening chorus of “Ayes” erupted.
“All opposed.”
No one dissented, not even Buck or Timothy, the two deputies.
Noah raised his fist. “Let’s muster.”
Aunt Bea marched from the boardinghouse and stood vigil in the center of the street, effectively halting the proceedings.
She paced in front of the assembled posse, her hands crossed over her chest. “No one is going anywhere. I’m looking out for the brides of Cowboy Creek, and I’m not letting this lady ride out with a bunch of men. Not after all the goings-on we’ve had with poor Miss Taggart.”
She jerked her thumb toward the well-dressed guests from the engagement party. The reverend, Hannah and James, who held baby Ava, watched the proceedings from the boardwalk.
Tomasina glanced at Will. “Marry me.”
“Now?”
“Now,” she demanded.
“Right now
?”
“Right now. The reverend is here. Let’s get hitched and capture those Murdochs.”
Will leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. “I will marry you, Tomasina Stone. Without delay.”
Deputy Watson rolled his eyes. “Make it quick. We’re burning daylight, and those Murdochs are putting ground between us.”
Hannah rushed over and handed up a bouquet of wildflowers appropriated from one of Leah’s centerpieces. “You sure had me fooled, Tom. I can’t believe you’re getting married before me.”
“Me neither.”
“I’m happy for you,” she murmured. “We can exchange recipes, and I’ll help you sew curtains for the new house.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll get back to you on that.”
Tomasina didn’t cook, and she sure didn’t have any opinions on curtains and the like.
Hannah sketched a wave and joined James and her father once more.
Mr. Booker jogged up. He bent, clutched his side, heaved in a breath and then straightened.
“I brought this from my store,” he said. “It’s what they call a love knot. I thought it would suit you. It’s like a rope.”
The ring was a simple gold band with a loop in the center.
Tears pressed against the backs of her eyelids. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Mr. Booker handed up the ring.
Reverend Taggart took his place in front of them, his open Bible in his hands. The posse formed a horseshoe behind them, while practically the whole town of Cowboy Creek spilled from their homes and shops, lining the street.
Without dismounting, Tomasina took Will’s hand.
Reverend Taggart cleared his throat. “We come together for the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred undertaking and one which we do not enter into lightly.”
Tomasina rolled her hand forward. “Speed it up, Reverend. I promise you can talk till you’re blue in the face when we have a proper ceremony. Right now there’re some nasty criminals on the loose.”
“Point taken.” The reverend balanced the Bible in one hand and dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief. “Do you, Will Canfield, take Tomasina Stone as your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
His expression somber, Will faced her. “I do. I love you, Tomasina. May your aim always be true and may your guns never be pointed at me.”
The crowd chuckled.
Will tugged her closer and met her steady gaze. “I don’t just love you because you’re clever, beautiful and feisty, though you’re all those things. I love you because there’s no one else in the world quite like you and I can’t imagine a future without you by my side. You are my partner, my soul mate, my wife. I love you with every beat of my heart.”
The pressure behind her yes increased tenfold. “You are a romantic.”
“You bring out the scoundrel and the romantic in me.”
“A lethal pairing.”
The reverend raised his arm. “All right, you two. Settle down. We’re not done yet. Do you, Tomasina Stone, take William Canfield as your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Tomasina had difficulty finding her voice. She’d never been a sentimental person, but she wanted to remember this moment forever.
“I do,” she said, her voice husky. “My pa would have liked this wedding. He never was much for sitting indoors. He always said the gospel was in the trees and the grass and the flowers around us. He would have liked you, too, Will Canfield. He would have been proud to call you his son.
“When I came to Cowboy Creek I was trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be. Instead I found someone who loves me for who I am. I give thanks to God for sending me someone to love. For sending me you.”
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
A loud cheer erupted from the onlookers.
Will cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. He tipped back her hat and his fingers delved into her wild curls. The tears on his lashes dotted her cheeks.
“Let’s roll out,” Noah hollered.
Tomasina and Will reluctantly parted.
He caught her hand. “We’ll finish that kiss later.”
“Promise.”
“Life with you will never be boring, will it?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Admit it, you love excitement.”
“I love you, Tomasina.”
“I love you, too, Will Canfield.” She gathered her reins and dug her heels into the sides of her paint horse. “You have to catch me first.”
She tossed her bouquet to Hannah, but the men had already kicked their horses into a trot. The bouquet landed square in Noah’s chest.
Noah batted at the flowers as though someone had tossed a snake into his lap.
* * *
Will let out a whoop. The Murdochs were on the loose, he’d been married on horseback and his honeymoon was taking place in a posse.
Tomasina glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. He’d catch her, all right. But she’d lead him on a merry chase for the rest of his life.
The crowd hollered and cheered as the riders passed.
Will kicked his horse into a gallop and gave chase.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE RELUCTANT BRIDEGROOM by Shannon Farrington.
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Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read Tomasina and Will’s story. I was excited and honored when my editor invited me to contribute to the Cowboy Creek series. This was my first opportunity to participate in a continuity series, and the first time I’ve worked in the time period immediately following the Civil War.
I had a wonderful time collaborating with the other two authors involved in this project. Both Karen Kirst and Cheryl St. John are fabulous writers. They were incredibly generous with their time and knowledge. We enjoyed weaving together our story elements across the three books in the series.
I love connecting with readers and would enjoy hearing your thoughts on this story! If you’re interested in learning more about this book or others I’ve written in the Prairie Courtships series, visit my website at SherriShackelford.com or reach me at [email protected], facebook.com/SherriShackelfordAuthor, Twitter @smshackelford or regular old snail mail: P.O. Box 116, Elkhorn, NE 68022.
Thanks for reading!
Sherri Shackelford
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The Reluctant Bridegroom
by Shannon Farrington
Chapter One
Baltimore, Maryland
1865
What is he doing here? He has never visited our home before.
Rebekah Van der Geld watched from her position behind the large oak tree as her father’s chief political rival, State Delegate Harold Nash, stepped from the porch and came down the front walk. The graying widower looked quite pleased with himself, as though he had just secured some grand victory.
Few men ever smiled after leaving her father’s presence, and yet this particular legislator was whistling happily as he stepped through the front gate and headed up the street. He had just passed her next-door neighbor’s home when Fiona, Rebekah’s maid, spied her behind the tree.
“There you are, miss,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you! You must hurry! Your father wants ya!”
Rebekah’s stomach immediately knotted. She brushed her clothing. “Am I presentable?”
Fiona twirled her about. “There’s mud along your back hemline,” she said, “but I daresay you haven’t time to change. Perhaps he won’t notice.”
He will notice, Rebekah thought, and he will be angry. She knew, though, there was nothing she could do to remedy that now. Her father would be even angrier if she didn’t come straightaway.
Resigning herself to the inevitable, Rebekah hurried inside. The door to the study was ajar, but she knocked upon it just the same. She had been told more than once never to step into the room without her father’s permission.
“Enter,” he commanded.
Drawing a quick breath, Rebekah did so. Her father was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back. Theodore Van der Geld was not a particularly large man, but his stern voice and iron hand were enough to intimidate most everyone with whom he came in contact, especially his daughter.
Special Delivery Baby Page 25
