A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron Heart

by Melynda Carlyle

  “I knew you’d be able to sort it out quickly,” John said as he came out of his house, Melanie running out not far behind him. “I kept telling this young lady that if anyone could find her things, it would be you.”

  God, she is beautiful, even when she looks embarrassed. “I do hope that this makes up for the bit of unpleasantness, Miss Thompson. I will, of course, need you to go through your belongings to ensure that everything is accounted for,” Peter said, doing his best to give her his most winning smile.

  “I just can’t believe that you got it all back,” Melanie replied quietly, turning her back deliberately on Peter so that she could address Mr. Broughs. “Can you help me carry my things inside?”

  “I’d be happy to help,” John said, winking in Peter’s direction. “Just point out what is yours, and I’ll start hauling it in.”

  Peter figured there was no harm in helping, and within five minutes, they had managed to haul all her belongings up to the small guest bedroom near the back of the house. When they were finished, Melanie and Peter slowly walked to the door together.

  “Well, Miss Thompson, I do hope that this helps to smooth things over between us. I may not come across the best at first glance, but I am a man of action. That’s why the people of Santa Fe count on me,” Peter said, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get out of your hair now, hard as it may be,” he added with a grin, stepping forward to take his leave.

  “My hair is not tangled!” Melanie practically snarled the words, a hand moving self-consciously to her hair. Before Peter had a chance to correct the misunderstanding, she stormed off, leaving him standing there, perplexed.

  “Yikes, and I thought I was bad. It is a wonder that you are still single,” John said, laughing from where he stood on the front porch.

  “I was just trying to compliment her,” Peter said wearily, shaking his head with wonder. “If anything, I really like her hair.”

  “I don’t think that is the only part of her that you like, Sheriff. Not that I blame you. She’s a special kind of woman with the heart of a wild mustang. It is going to take a lot of time and a lot of developed trust before she is even willing to come within range. Those are the kinds of things you can’t rush,” John added, glancing back into the house through the kitchen window.

  “I’ll take your word for it. After all, if any man in Santa Fe County knows how to keep a woman, it’s you. How is Iris doing with the baby?” Peter asked, leaning against the porch rail briefly.

  “She says she has less energy than she did when she was pregnant with the others, but I reckon that after going through it this many times, I would be tired from it too,” John replied good-naturedly. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her, so she should be alright.”

  “You are a good man, John. I appreciate you putting Miss Thompson up. Let me know if there is anything you need, and I’ll be happy to pitch in for it,” Peter said, climbing back into the wagon and snapping the reins gently. The horse let out a loud snort of protest before plodding forward, the cart slowly beginning to trundle on its way.

  Chapter 5

  Iris turned out to be the best friend Melanie hadn’t known she needed in her life. Though she was only ten years older than Melanie was, the pregnant woman was rapidly proving to be a vast fountain of information. It had been too late for Iris to show Melanie the school by the time the sheriff had managed to reclaim her belongings, so they’d put it off until the next morning.

  After a dinner of stewed lamb and thick-cut potatoes, Melanie was feeling more content than she had been in the entire trip that she’d just undertaken. It had been so lonely on the road.

  Iris proved to be wonderful company. The pregnant woman apparently had a fondness for trivia due to how educated John was, so the two women had been able to spend long hours into the night sharing tidbits about their lives and their history.

  Melanie even shared a couple stories from her childhood with Iris. She found herself getting misty-eyed as she recalled the fond times back when both her parents were alive and her life had been so much more stable.

  “I reckon you miss your life back in Kansas, but believe me when I say that the people around here will help you get settled in no time,” Iris said with a laugh, taking Melanie’s hand gently in hers and giving it a soft squeeze.

  “Between you and me, things weren’t all that great back home,” Melanie admitted reluctantly. “Things were alright when I first moved in with my aunt Victoria, but then she started trying to marry me off to a bunch of random suitors.”

  “Now, Melanie, I’m sure that wasn’t her intention. You know how the times are. If you aren’t married off or have kids by the time you are in your mid-twenties, people start spreading rumors about you or assume there is something wrong with you. I know that this kind of life isn’t for everyone,” Iris commented casually.

  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d chosen men I could converse with, rather than the multitude of self-important dullards that she paraded in front of me,” Melanie replied dryly.

  “Surely, there was at least one gentleman caller who didn’t seem so petty?” Iris prodded, the older woman clearly able to tell that Melanie was keeping something from her. “Or did he turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing?”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Melanie replied quickly, not wanting to invite Iris to interrogate her about her previous romantic life. “I don’t know what it was, but none of them seemed right.”

  Iris nodded gently. “They just want a wife who will smile and nod and do as they ask. I found it was especially that way the richer one got. That was why I settled with John; he makes just enough to support us and have a little left over. He doesn’t hoard the extra away; he offers it freely to those around him. His generosity and his selflessness have kept me falling in love with him for the eight years we’ve been together.”

  “Eight years. That feels like a lifetime,” Melanie breathed, gazing silently into the distance for a moment. A single tear managed to roll down her cheek before she realized it was there, hastily reaching up with her hand to wipe it away.

  “Did I say something to upset you?” Iris asked, looking at her with blatant concern.

  “No, it isn’t your fault, Iris. It’s just been a long couple of years since my father passed away, and it is still really hard to come to grips with,” Melanie said, taking a deep breath. “Do you think that we might go take a tour of the school in the morning?”

  “Oh, of course we may! That had been my intention, though you’ll have to forgive me if the tour is a bit slow. I’m not able to do much more than a heartfelt waddle in my current state,” Iris laughed, her hand stroking over her rounded belly affectionately.

  Melanie smiled widely, already feeling her familiar eagerness welling up inside of her. “Fantastic.”

  True to her word, the next day Iris and Melanie rode with John into town. The school building was an interesting combination of wood and brick, Iris telling her proudly that John had been part of the group of townsmen that had rebuilt the school three years ago when it had been burned down by bandits. Iris was absolutely glowing as she recounted to Melanie how the sheriff had dealt with the bandits singlehandedly.

  “It was the kind of gunplay that you only ever read about in dime novels,” Iris said, waving her hand emphatically. “Every time he raised that pistol and lowered it again, a man fell dead to the ground.”

  “You were there when it happened?” Melanie asked aghast, looking at Iris with wide eyes.

  “Unfortunately. I happened to be in the bank when they came in to rob it. They tried to hold me hostage, but I screamed when they grabbed me, and the sheriff charged in shortly afterward.”

  “Were you scared?” Melanie noticed that John was looking uncomfortable where he sat driving the wagon. “What about you, John? Where were you when this all happened?”

  “I was at home taking care of the kids,” he said, obviously sulking. “You can bet that situat
ion would have never happened had I been there.”

  “Of course, it wouldn’t have, Papa Bear,” Iris said affectionately, leaning over and kissing her husband. “There is no need to be so angry about it. I’m still safe and here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

  “We can meet up at the tavern when you ladies are all finished with your tour. I’m going to go to the general store and talk to Tom about whether he can help me arrange a shipment of meat. I figure the kids would like to eat something other than chicken or fish,” he said, offering a wink to his wife before urging the wagon forward once more.

  “When it comes to the requirements for the schoolmarm around here, the job isn’t too difficult,” Iris said dismissively. “I have some of my old lesson books that you can use, and I’m always happy to offer pointers. I typically start classes around ten o’clock, and we let out at roughly three o’clock.”

  Melanie nodded gently, following Iris as they made their way into the front of the school. There were already youths of many different ages sitting in their various seats, a rather harried looking older woman sitting at the front of the class. Upon seeing Melanie and Iris, the old woman rose from her seat and smiled. “You must be Miss Thompson, our new teacher. My name is Glenwys Close, and I am the headmistress here. You would think a simple school like ours wouldn’t need one, and the position is admittedly more ceremonial than anything else, but I take my duties very seriously. I am assuming that your presence here means that you are preparing to take on the responsibilities that Miss Iris previously managed?”

  “That is correct. I am pleased to meet you face-to-face; I believe you should have long since received my letter of intention,” Melanie replied, reaching out and gently shaking Glenwys’ hand. The older woman’s grip was a lot stronger than Melanie had assumed it would be. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I do have to thank you for coming out here so expediently. I am afraid that I won’t be able to offer you much in terms of reimbursement for your travel expenses, but I can assure you that the payment for the work is fair. We will prepare a small house of your very own, and that will be yours so long as you continue your duties here. You will also receive a stipend of five dollars every two weeks to spend at your leisure,” Glenwys said, smiling softly. “I’m afraid that there is not much more I can offer you than that.”

  “It already sounds perfect,” Melanie said quickly, looking around at the class. “Hello everyone, my name is Miss Thompson. I’ll be taking over your instruction soon.”

  “Hello, Miss Thompson,” the class replied in unison, warranting a small smile from her. A smile that soon vanished when she glanced down at a piece of paper that had fallen from one of the kids’ desks. She reached down and plucked it up from the ground, eyes widening slightly as she saw that it contained plans for another stagecoach robbery. She said nothing, merely excusing herself and walking out of the school with Iris in tow.

  “I have to go see Sheriff Matherson,” she said immediately, glancing over and blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be nearby. “Sheriff! I need to talk to you immediately! It is important!”

  She watched him visibly grimace as he walked over. “What is it, Miss Thompson? I have a lot of things that I need to get to,” he said, taking the piece of paper from her when she wordlessly offered it. He scowled as he read it, shaking his head. “Just perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll look into it, Miss Thompson.”

  “Do you want me to bring you the boy who I got it from?” Melanie asked, wanting to be helpful.

  “That won’t be necessary. These things are a dime a dozen these days,” he said, slowly crumpling the piece of paper up in his hands.

  Melanie couldn’t even bring herself to reply, disbelief etched clearly on her face. Was this guy seriously the sheriff?

  Chapter 6

  His morning began with him breaking up a drunken brawl between two men who had fallen asleep at the tavern and woken up fully inebriated. He ended up taking a bottle to the side of the head as a result, and had a small migraine building ever since.

  “Alright, boys, you sit here in these cells and sober up for a bit. My deputy will let you be on your way when you aren’t a danger to yourselves or others,” Peter said gruffly, hobbling out of the front door of the jail.

  Peter paused on the front step of the jail, his hand reaching out to grip the wooden railing beside it. The early morning sunlight forced him to shield his eyes, the warm breeze feeling pleasant on his skin. His mood was gradually beginning to improve until he heard someone call out to him. “Sheriff! I need your help in a dispute! That Mackeny bastard is trying to infringe on my land again!”

  Peter let out a deep sigh and glanced in the direction of the voice. “Alright, alright. Just let me untether my horse,” he said, clearing his throat gently. “Chris, saddle up my horse,” he called out, smirking to himself as his deputy ran to do as he asked.

  He found himself sitting on his horse in the midst of two groups of men. The leaders of both sides held maps in their hands, waving them angrily in the air as they shouted over one another to be heard. Peter closed his eyes and tenderly rubbed the spot on his temple where the bottle had struck him, raising his voice above the din. “Enough! Bring me the boundary maps for your property, and I’ll decide. I’ve had enough of this. We are civilized people, and we are going to deal with this like civilized people.”

  He snatched up each of the offered maps and held them up side by side. Even in his cloudy state of mind, he was still able to recognize some distinct formations. As he turned his head around to glance at the nearby surroundings, he began to piece everything together. Learning to read maps had been his least favorite part of training under Michael Norton, but he thanked him silently for it in his head.

  Spurring his horse forward, Peter grabbed a pitchfork from one of the nearby men and dismounted. Dragging the pointed tip of the farming implement through the dirt in a very tell-tale line, he began to carve out a boundary line using a large nearby tree as the guidepost.

  “Now, you all listen here. I have divided your lands with these lines. The series of tracks on the left are for you Mackenys, the other for you Stoldhardts. You are to build fences on your appropriate lines and no further. The center line here,” he gestured with the pitchfork as he spoke. “The center is no man’s land. Neither of you has any claim to it, and we will leave it as a bit of a buffer zone between the two of you. I don’t want to hear that any of you have crossed onto the other’s land, or the violator will be arrested and thrown in jail for no less than two months. Do you all understand?”

  “Yes, Sheriff,” the two sides grumbled begrudgingly, beginning to dissipate now that the matter had been dealt with. Peter handed the pitchfork he had borrowed back to its owner and jumped back up onto his horse, then made his way back to the jail. On the journey, he came across a pair of men arguing over a cow that was standing between the two of them. The cow looked just as unamused as Peter felt as he walked up to the pair of gentlemen.

  “Fellas, what seems to be the matter here?”

  “This cow is mine, Sheriff,” said the first man, the leather suit he wore barely concealing his girthy abdomen and sizable muscles. “It broke out of my pen two days ago and I’ve been looking for it ever since.”

  “This is ridiculous, Sheriff Pete,” replied the second man, a mousey-faced individual with spectacles and loose clothing that hung off his slim body. “Just because he has a brown and white cow doesn’t automatically mean every cow that wanders out of a pen is his. I had a young calf of the same colors go missing from my herd just the other day, and I have a strong suspicion that this man had something to do with its disappearance.”

  “Can you prove that he had anything to do with the disappearance of your calf, sir?” Peter was already losing interest in the conversation, the urge to make his way to the nearest saloon and have a shot of whiskey or two was growing with every passing moment.

  “If I had con
crete proof, do you think I wouldn’t have come to you to have this man arrested?” the mousey man asked incredulously.

  “Let us go to your farm, then, and take a look at the not-so-concrete evidence you purport to have, sir,” Peter said cheerfully, his plan already working in his mind. “If everything is as you say, and I am convinced that you are telling the truth, then the cow will be yours.”

  When he reconvened with Chris, Peter’s head was clearer, and he was in slightly higher spirits. After a quick snack of crackers and beef jerky, he was feeling a little less sour. As they prepared to go on their usual tour of the town, Chris filled Peter in on what had transpired while he’d been away. “Iris and Melanie are in town at the school building. Maybe you can make your way over there and luck into her. You need to try and smooth things over with her if you are ever going to hope to have a chance with her.”

  “That is absolutely none of your business, Chris,” Peter replied, his cheeks burning with a sudden blush. “The day I will take romantic advice from you is the day I hang myself from the nearest tree.”