Texas Lawman

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Well, they didn’t when they finally realized what he’d done,” Sarah said. “My father turned what information he had over to the bank about the mismanagement of funds that were under Lester’s control. The problem was that there was no tangible proof.”

  Brace yawned and rolled to face Sarah. “Nicholas will take care of it for us, sweetheart. Don’t worry about anything but taking care of me right now.”

  “And just what do you need?” she asked, smiling at him by the light of a single candle.

  “Just you, Sarah. Just you.” His hands reached for her, and she was reminded once more of the passion he was able to draw forth from her body. His desire for her seemed endless and she knew a happiness she could barely contain as he held her close, pulling her atop his chest and then drawing her face close to kiss each inch of skin he could reach. “I promise to be really, really quiet,” he whispered, and she stifled a laugh against his throat.

  He shifted a bit, and his mouth was hot, avid against hers, his palms running the length of her body, his fingertips pausing to caress his favorite places as they searched out the secrets of her femininity. She writhed against him, his big hands urging her closer, her own need for his loving causing her to settle squarely atop his long length.

  Her legs parted as she felt the pressure of his arousal against her belly, and she lifted herself to better capture that firm, seeking member. “Can I do this?” she whispered, and Brace thought her voice was the epitome of feminine innocence. His Sarah still had much to learn, it seemed.

  “Of course you can,” he answered, barely able to put two words together. “You can do anything you want to, baby. If you want me, you know how to fit things together.”

  “I didn’t know it would work this way,” she whispered, aware of the fullness of his arousal as it found a haven in the depths of her body.

  “You’d be surprised at how many ways we can make it work,” he told her, his words teasing, approving her movements.

  “I don’t think I know what to do next,” she told him, kissing his throat and nuzzling beneath his ear.

  “Just use your imagination, sweetheart,” he muttered. “You’ll come up with something, I’m sure.”

  And she did. Gracefully, and with a passion that came readily to the surface, she brought pleasure to both of them. Brace was trembling beneath her, his long frame taut, his arms holding her with an embrace that drew them together in a new way, and Sarah cried out her joy against his chest, the sounds muffled so as not to carry beyond the walls of their room. He guided her into nuances of lovemaking that had heretofore been unknown to her, and she reveled in his teaching of her untutored body, responding readily to each touch, each softly whispered instruction he gave.

  “I love you,” she said, and then repeated the words, as if she could not tell him enough, as if her heart could not contain the emotion that spilled forth.

  “Ah, Sarah,” he whispered. “You’re a wonder. A woman I never thought to find.”

  They nestled in the middle of the big bed, wrapped together in an embrace that involved more than just their bodies blending as one. As if the love that possessed them both, that made their lives together such a thing of beauty, would not allow them to separate one from the other.

  Brace’s big hands moved against Sarah, touching and caressing her hips and breasts, the curves of her legs, drawing them about himself as though he cherished the very feel of silken flesh, the warmth of her womanhood, the fire of her passion.

  “Shouldn’t I put my nightgown on?” she whispered. “What if Stephen or my mother come in early to wake us?”

  “They won’t,” Brace told her firmly. “I locked the door. Besides, you always wake up before Stephen does. And if your mother gets up early, she can cook breakfast.”

  “I feel like I might sleep till noon,” she murmured, a laugh tingeing her words. “I’m worn out, Brace. You’ve made a wanton woman out of me.”

  “So long as you only want me, that’s all right,” he said. “Don’t ever stop loving me, Sarah.”

  “No chance of that,” she said, her words positive, her tone firm, as though she made a vow.

  “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered against her ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart.”

  “I know that,” she affirmed. “You make me feel safe and secure and well loved.”

  “You’re all of that, and more,” he told her. “Especially the well-loved part.”

  “When can I get my saddle and bridle and all that other stuff?” Stephen asked a few days later. His teacher had let the children out early, and Brace, called from the jailhouse, had picked him up and delivered him safely home.

  Now the boy sat at the table and drew diagrams of the stall they had completed. “I think we need to have a tack room,” he said. “Nicholas has a big one, with all his harnesses on the wall and saddles and stuff like that on racks. Do you think he’ll have a saddle for my horse? Or will we have to go buy one ourselves?”

  “I haven’t thought about it much,” Sarah said, aware that her answer was less than satisfactory. “I suspect we need to ask Brace what he thinks.”

  “I wonder if the man at the livery stable has any extra saddles for sale,” the boy mused as he looked from the kitchen window. “Could we walk over there and ask him?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sarah said firmly. “We’ll have to wait and see what Brace wants to do about it.”

  “I’ll ask my grandpa what he thinks. Maybe Pa would like it if we surprised him and did it all by ourselves.” Stephen’s words were spoken in a way that sent a signal to Sarah. Stephen had been doing some thinking about this. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment subject they explored today.

  “Let’s give it a rest,” Sarah said. “You can talk to your grandfather, and the both of you might want to ask Brace about it tonight. Then we’ll go out to see Nicholas in a day or two. I think he’s about ready to let the horse go, Stephen. We’ll be bringing her home before long. And just think how pleased your grandpa and grandma will be to be included in the whole thing.”

  “I’ll bet they’d like to see the pups, too,” the boy said. “I’ve been thinking about naming our dog Bear. What do you think?”

  “Do you think he’ll look like a bear when he gets bigger?” she asked.

  “I thought he was pretty furry, more so than the rest of the litter. Didn’t you notice?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I can’t say that I did. But I’ll take your word for it. If you want to call him Bear, it’s fine with me.”

  “Well, he’s gonna be pretty big, I think, and it kinda goes with Wolf, doesn’t it?” Stephen asked. “And I thought about a name for the horse, too. Do you think she’ll like to be called something like Buster, or maybe Beauty, or maybe we should just stick with Sugarfoot? She’s awful pretty, but I don’t know if Beauty will work or not. Especially since she’s used to Sugarfoot.”

  “Well, I don’t know if Beauty is what we want,” Sarah countered. Tilting her head to one side, she thought long and hard about the boy’s choices. “Maybe we should just keep the name Nicholas gave her. I really like Sugarfoot.”

  “I’ll probably just let her have the name she already has,” he told Sarah. “That’ll be easier, anyway, with just the dog to name.” He sighed deeply. “I’m so glad you listen to me, Aunt Sarah, like you really care what I think about stuff.”

  “I do care,” she answered. “I love you, Stephen, and I’ll always be interested in what you think.”

  It seemed the problem had been solved, for Stephen turned back to his drawing pad, including a saddle in the picture he was producing. “I sure wish Pa would hurry home, and maybe we could go to Nicholas’s place today,” he said after a bit, during which he’d cast several longing glances her way.

  “When Grandpa and Grandma come back from the general store, we can talk about it some more,” Sarah told him.

  Colleen sported a new shawl when she returned from Mr. Met
calfe’s dominion, and it had to be admired by all, for Brace came in the door in the midst of Colleen’s exhibit of her newly acquired treasure.

  Joshua drew Brace toward the back door. “Are those posts going to just sit there, or are you planning on putting up a fence?” he asked dryly.

  “I’m going to hire it done,” Brace told him. “I just don’t have enough time to get the job done before we pick up Stephen’s horse. And my own animal needs to be let out during the day. I’d thought Stephen and I could help with the job, but I think I’ll have to bring in someone from town.”

  “No such thing,” Joshua told him firmly. “I’m right handy with tools, and putting up a few boards on posts already in the ground is a snap. Why, you’ve done the hard part already. Setting those posts was a big job.”

  “That’s true,” Brace agreed. “And if you want to help, I’ll be able to put in several hours every evening.”

  “Stephen gets out of school right shortly, doesn’t he?” Joshua asked. “He’ll be a big help to me.”

  “Well, I won’t argue with accepting a helping hand,” Brace told him. “I’ll have the lumberyard deliver the first load of boards tomorrow. You can just have at it.”

  “Pa,” Stephen said impatiently, as if he’d been waiting for a break in the conversation in order to put in his two cents worth. “Can we go to the Garveys’ place tonight?”

  “Probably not tonight,” Sarah told him quietly. “Brace will have to let Nicholas know we’re coming, after all.” And then she thought of her own conversation with Brace.

  “Nicholas is checking into some matters for us, and Brace might want to wait and see what kind of answers we get.”

  Stephen rose and walked to the window, looking out upon the fence posts that stood in neat rows. “Is my real pa still in town?”

  Sarah thought he sounded fearful, and she could hardly blame him. It must seem that his whole life had been spent living in fear of the man who had sired the boy. “I don’t know,” she answered. “He was going to see his father the last I heard.”

  “You don’t think he’ll be coming around here when he comes back, do you?” Stephen asked.

  “Well, if he does, we don’t have to worry,” Sarah told him. “The windows are locked and the doors have bolts on them. He couldn’t get in the house if he tried. Besides, with your grandpa here, he’d be a fool to make any trouble.”

  “It’s a good thing we married the sheriff, ain’t it, Aunt Sarah? And a good thing my grandpa and grandma came to visit.”

  “Yes, it certainly is,” she said quickly, thinking that the child had no idea just what a good thing it had turned out to be, all the way around. A new relationship had sprung into being between her and her parents, and their presence was a joy she would long cherish.

  The three men were crowded into Lester’s hotel room, the brothers newly arrived, their cups filled with whiskey from a bottle Lester had brought with him. “What do you think, boys?” he asked. “Will Pa be ready to forgive and forget when we go back? Do you suppose he’ll get out the fatted calf for me?”

  “He’d be more ready to accept you back if you had the boy with you,” LeRoy said. “We’ll need to snatch him up before we leave town.”

  Lester frowned. “It might cause too big a ruckus if we take him with us. And on top of that, there’s still Sarah to consider. I’d like to have a shot at her, too.”

  “Now, that’s one fine-lookin’ woman,” LeRoy said agreeably. “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ my hands on her, myself.”

  “There’s enough there to share, I’d think,” Shorty said slyly. “She’s a lot of woman for a stick-in-the-mud like our goody-two-shoes sheriff, don’t you think?”

  “You fellas need to find women of your own,” Lester said. “We’ll talk about all that later. I’m thinking it might be a good idea to get our hands on both of them, maybe see what sort of ransom Caulfield is willing to pay to get them back. He won’t be too anxious to fire on us if we have his woman with us.”

  “And then what?” LeRoy asked. “So he pays a ransom. And we’ll be without the woman and boy. That don’t sound too smart to me.”

  “Who said we wouldn’t have the both of them? We’ll take Caulfield’s money and skedaddle back to the ranch, with enough of a nest egg to keep us going until we make a permanent deal with Pa.”

  “I like the way you think,” Shorty said with a loud laugh. “And the trip west, next time, should be a lot more fun than this one. I’d even share my bedroll with the woman. In fact, I’m plannin’ on it.”

  The menfolk seemed to find a special sort of enjoyment together, using hammers and saws, cutting and nailing boards in place, as they enlarged the shed. The pasture fencing was coming along nicely, Brace said, with enough already enclosed to contain the horses.

  Sugarfoot was to be turned into the pasture by the end of the week, and a larger area for horses and supplies would be finished. Even a stall for a cow had been included in the project, and Sarah was given the task of locating one.

  She checked with Mr. Metcalfe and was sent to the milk farm from whence her cream had come before. Armed with enough money to purchase a cow, and accompanied by her mother, she set off in the buggy to make the purchase.

  Colleen readily admitted her ignorance as the buggy passed a herd of docile-appearing cows in a field leading up to the farmhouse and barns. “I’m not much on milking, I’ll tell you right now, Sarah,” her mother said. “I had to do my share when I was a young girl, but it’s been years since I sat on a milk stool.”

  “If you remember how it’s done, I’ll be grateful,” Sarah told her, laughing at her mother’s words. “Mr. Metcalfe said I should get a Jersey, a young one. He said to look for a brown cow with a pretty face, kind of on the small side.”

  “Sounds like a Jersey to me,” Colleen said. “That’s what my father had on the farm, and Holsteins, too. The Jersey we used for milking was a champ, my mother always said. Gave the richest milk in the county.”

  They pulled the buggy up in front of the barn, and in short order were greeted by the farmer who owned the place. “Howdy there, ladies. What can I do for you?” He approached them with a grin. Sarah slid from the seat, and climbed down quickly.

  “Mr. Metcalfe at the general store told me I might be able to buy a milk cow from you,” she told the gentleman. “I wondered if you have any for sale.”

  “I can probably come up with a nice milker for you,” he said pleasantly. “What did you have in mind?”

  “My mother—” Sarah waved a hand at Colleen, who watched from the seat “—my mother said I should think about getting a Jersey. She told me I’d get rich milk and cream.”

  “They aren’t known for volume,” the farmer told her. “But it’s true that their milk is probably the best for drinking, and the cream is the best there is for churning butter.”

  “I don’t need enough milk for the whole neighborhood,” Sarah told him with a laugh. “Just enough for our family.”

  In less than a half hour, as they left the farm, a dainty, light brown cow was tied to the buggy and Sarah’s reticule was considerably lighter. It seemed that Mr. Metcalfe and Brace had been pretty accurate as to the value of a cow, but Sarah still had a bit of money left after the bargain was struck.

  Pleased with her venture into cattle buying, she considered the calves the farmer had told her about. If raised over a period of several months, even a year, a calf would grow to a size suitable to slaughter for a family’s meat supply for some months. Kept in the cold during the winter months, it seemed an economical way to be sure of beef on the table, Sarah thought.

  Brace agreed with her, upon their arrival home. Approving of her purchase, he listened as she explained the value of buying a calf, and then posed a question she had not thought of.

  “After you have a young calf here for a while, you’ll probably want to name it, won’t you?” At her slow nod, he continued. “You’ll feed it and put it out to pasture every day, and pretty s
oon you’ll become attached to it. That happens, you know,” he said with a smile. “So what happens when we have your pet butchered and you’re faced with cooking parts of the animal for supper all winter long? Can you do that?”

  Sarah felt a sharp pang of regret. “I don’t have a calf yet, and already I’m grieving for it,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I can, Brace.”

  “I doubt you could, sweetheart,” he told her. “You’re a softie at heart. Buying meat from the butcher or a farmer nearby seems like a better idea to me. You won’t have any fond memories of the animal to cope with.”

  Sarah nodded slowly. “You’re probably right.” And then her voice became more lively, and she smiled. “But drinking milk and making butter won’t bother me at all.”

  “Once you learn how to milk this critter,” Brace said, leading the cow into the shed, where a stall had been hastily put together for her use. A rough manger held hay and the cow seemed to feel at home there. “We’ll put her in the pasture every day,” Brace said. “It’ll save on feed, and she’s better off with fresh grass.”

  Sarah looked at him hopefully. “Do you know how to milk her?”

  He shook his head. “It’s been years since I lent my talents to that chore. But I heard from your pa that Colleen is quite a hand at it. Maybe she can give you lessons.”

  “Do you have a milking stool?” Colleen said from behind them. “And a new bucket to use. You’ll need a milk house or a cool place in your pantry or washroom to keep the milk while the cream rises.”

  Sarah felt overwhelmed for a moment. “It seems like I got us into a sticky situation, doesn’t it? I’d better go see Mr. Metcalfe to find a bucket and see if he has any milking stools for sale.”

  “I can make you a stool,” Brace told her, his smile teasing as he considered her problem. “And I’ve already brought home two new milk pails for you to use, sweetheart. I knew you’d need them.”