Hearts and Spurs

by Linda Broday

  “I meant the girls, Miss Henry.”

  “Well, you didn’t say that,” she argued. “And since I love Jericho, I was only doing what you said I could.”

  “Miss Henry,” Matt began again.

  “Wait a minute.” Jericho took Mary by the shoulders and turned her to face him, studying her eyes. “What did you say?”

  Mary arched one perfect golden brow, a smile flirting with her lips. “I said I was only doing what—”

  “Not that,” Jericho growled.

  Mary eased closer until not even the breeze could have fit between them. “I said I love you, Jericho Hawken, and nobody is going to hurt you when I can stop them.”

  “Again,” he whispered. “Please.”

  She laid her beautiful hands on his cheeks. “I. Love. You.”

  Tenuous joy swept through Jericho, making him weak. “But your brother—”

  “Was killed by a monster. That monster.” She glanced at the crowd following Doc Bittner and the body. “He’d have killed you, too, if you’d been in that camp.”

  She forgave him. Relief nearly dropped Jericho to his knees. “I wish I could have saved him, honey.”

  “I know.” Mary’s smile turned sad. “I wish he was here to share my joy. As much as I miss him, I can’t stop living because he’s gone.”

  Matt coughed loudly, a sound designed to gain attention. “If you two could put it on hold for a few minutes, I need to know what happened here.”

  “All right, Sheriff, but could we get out of the sun? I seem to have forgotten my parasol.”

  Stepping back and offering his arm, Jericho led Mary to the sheriff’s office, while Matt kept pace on her other side. As Jericho seated her, Matt closed the door leading to the cells.

  “Now, then.”

  “Sheriff,” Mary sat forward in her chair. “I realize—”

  “Wait, honey,” Jericho interrupted. “Let me go first.”

  He thought she’d argue, but she settled back and let him speak. “I’d just left Miss Henry’s after spending the morning helping her and the girls in the garden.” Matt’s lips curved, but he didn’t make a sound. “I was on my way here to ask you to join us for dinner, when LeMasters called me out.”

  “From behind?” Matt clarified.

  Jericho knew that fact alone would exonerate him. “I wonder why he didn’t just shoot me in the back. God knows he’s done that before to a lawman.”

  Beside him, Mary shivered. “Dear Lord, I almost did exactly that to him.”

  “But you didn’t, honey.” He took her hand and resumed his story. “I heard running steps. I thought it was people getting out of the way. I realize now it was Mary coming up behind LeMasters. She shouted his name, distracting him for an instant. He started to turn his gun toward her. We all fired at the same time. LeMasters’s bullet hit the dirt beside me.”

  Mary gaped at him. “But, I thought that I’d…”

  “There were two bullet holes, yours in his side and mine in his heart. Mine killed him.”

  Matt sat back, elbows on the chair arms, fingers steepled in front of him, index fingers slowly tapping together as he considered their explanation. It was quiet enough to hear the sounds of folks moving around beyond the closed door. Nodding as he came to a decision, Matt straightened. “I’ll let the doctor confirm it, but I saw both entry wounds. My report to the circuit judge will be that LeMasters drew on a federal marshal and a civilian, both of whom shot in self-defense.”

  “What if the judge doesn’t believe you?” Mary twisted Jericho’s handkerchief between her fingers.

  “Normally, Miss Henry, I’d tell you that was a possibility, but not in this case. Doc Bittner was coming out of the bank when LeMasters shouted at Jericho. His accounting matches Marshal Hawken’s exactly.”

  “So you intentionally let me believe I’d done something wrong?” Mary rose, vibrating with righteous anger. “You wanted to frighten me.”

  “Miss Henry, I was only trying to impress on you the need to—”

  “Save your excuses,” she snapped. “That was beneath you, Sheriff Tate. Please take me home, Marshal Hawken.”

  Jericho stifled a snicker. “Yes, ma’am.” Matt stood, but wisely kept his desk between himself and Mary. “Should I still invite him to dinner?”

  She crossed her arms, a mulish expression on her face. Only Jericho could see the twinkle in her eyes. “I suppose so.” Turning just enough to toss a glare in Matt’s direction, Mary sailed out the door and into the sunshine.

  “She is one amazing woman.” Matt stared after her.

  “And she’s all mine,” Jericho declared as he followed her out.

  ****

  “I really thought you’d let Matt off the hook before now.” Jericho sat beside Mary in the garden, holding hands and counting stars. “Though I must admit, I kind of enjoy watching him squirm.”

  “He deserves to squirm,” Mary huffed “Imagine making me believe I’d broken the law by saving your life.”

  “He was only doing what the people of River’s Bend pay him to do, honey.”

  Mary smiled at him, making his heart pound a little harder. “I know, and I’ll forgive him before long.”

  “In time for him to stand up with me at our wedding?” He had the satisfaction of seeing her jaw drop. “You stood in front of the whole town and declared that you love me. I think, after that, you have to marry me, don’t you?”

  “Have to?” she breathed, eyes narrowing. “I don’t have to do anything at all, Mr. Hawken.”

  “Agreed. But will you still marry me?”

  He smiled that he’d managed to render her speechless. Instead of teasing her further, he rose from his seat and dropped to one knee, never releasing her hand.

  “Oh, my.” Mary looked from their joined hands to his face.

  “I adore you, Maryland Henry. I can’t see myself living without you at my side a day longer than I have to. Will you be my wife?”

  The smile that bloomed on her lips and in her eyes was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  “What about us?” The childish demand was made by Carolina, but when he looked up, Georgia and Virginia stood on either side of her.

  “You, too. I want us to be a family. If she says yes, is it all right with you girls?”

  The silence that followed his question made him more nervous than facing the business end of an outlaw’s gun. Mary’s expression gave nothing away. Then the waiting became too much for Carolina.

  “Say yes, Aunt Mary,” she whispered loudly.

  Mary laughed, easing the tight band around Jericho’s chest. “I will, Carolina,” she whispered back to the child. Then she rose and pulled him to his feet. “I’ll marry you, Jericho Hawken, because you love these girls and you want us to be a family. But mostly because I adore you, too.”

  Jericho swept Mary off her feet and spun in a quick circle, loving her squeal of surprised delight. The girls screamed and launched themselves from the porch to join the fun. As he wrapped all of them in his arms, his gaze found Mary’s. There, he found what he’d been searching for.

  Home.

  About the Author

  Award-winning multi-published author Tracy Garrett has always loved to disappear into the pages of a book. An accomplished musician, Tracy merged her need for creativity, love of history, and passion for reading when she began writing western historical romance. A member of Romance Writers of America, Missouri Romance Writers of America (MORWA), Published Author Special Interest Chapter (PASIC), and Ozarks Romance Authors (ORA). Tracy resides in Missouri with her husband and their fuzzy kid, Wrigley.

  Find Tracy on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/TracyGarrett.author; on Twitter at @TGarrett_Author; and on the web at www.TracyGarrett.com.

  Tumbleweeds and Valentines

  Phyliss Miranda

  Sometimes it takes two to make dreams come true. When a man who believes he’ll never have a home and family finds a woman who has lost everything…It takes
a lot of forgiveness and a few fireworks to realize that together, their dreams can come true.

  Chapter 1

  Valentine’s Week 1889

  Caprock, Texas

  Amanda Love stood at the window over the kitchen sink of her little house and watched the wind chase the last of the tumbleweeds down Greene Street. In short order, the weather would provide the warmth to hatch another crop of Russian thistle, so there’d be an overabundance of dried, prickly tumbleweeds by next fall. Some always seemed to last through winter.

  The thought about what she had to accomplish in her confectionary store to meet the needs of the citizens for the Valentine’s Day festivities weighed heavy on her mind. Only in the Texas Panhandle would they hold a Valentine’s dance in a barn with a bunch of rough-and-tumble cowboys asking the women of Caprock to be their dates.

  Praying the blacksmith, Trey Hemphill, had her order for candy molds finished in time to make her special chocolate-covered marshmallow hearts was much more of a priority than any barn dance with a bunch of bowlegged cowboys. Mandy planned to curl up in her bed and read one of her favorite magazines, Good Housekeeping, full of helpful hints for women and an occasional recipe she could adapt to the candy store. That was a far better use of her time and energy, though, and she didn’t complain. It was what she wanted.

  After washing her breakfast dishes, she climbed the stairs to the second floor to dress for work. Like the rest of the house, her bedroom was small and tidy, but had everything in it she needed. She quickly changed into a pale blue and white calico printed dress and bonnet.

  Throwing on her coat, she grabbed her lunch consisting of a chunk of ham, two slices of cheese and bread she’d baked just the night before and put them in her satchel. She headed out the front door to walk the three blocks to the store. She had a lot of work to do in a very short period of time.

  She had to push hard on the gate to shove a couple of the tumbleweeds away that had got caught on her fence; but one, in particular, caught her eye. It obviously had purposely been placed on her fence post, so it wouldn’t be missed. Not even in the untamed winds of the panhandle could a single tumbleweed with a piece of paper caught on it attach itself to her gate...especially paper in the shape of a heart.

  Mandy’s first thought was to let the dry, thorny bush disappear in the wind and take the paper with it. Her second thought was, although she was positive the valentine was not meant for her, curiosity made her want to read what was written on it. Carefully, she opened the gate and cautiously removed the tattered paper, letting the weed tumble its way on down Greene Street.

  Mandy, it’d be an honor if you would accompany me to the Valentine’s dance.

  The writing was a little too formal for a man’s hand, yet not flourishing enough for it to have been written by a woman. Mandy stepped back from the gate and almost dropped the invitation on the ground, as if it were a rattler prepared to strike. There was one thing missing...a signature!

  Could this be someone playing a joke? Since her arrival in town with her family, some four years before when she was barely sixteen, Mandy had never had a gentleman come calling, except for a couple of cowboys who had too much to drink and couldn’t see well enough to realize what an ordinary-looking woman she was. They didn’t stay long because they generally left with her father’s boot print on their backsides.

  With shaking hands, not from the wind, but from a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, Mandy read the heart-shaped paper once again, and even turned it over to make sure a name wasn’t on the back. Nothing. Shrugging, she folded the tattered valentine neatly and put it in her dress pocket.

  The wind at her back made her walk very fast to the confectionary store. When she reached the store, the lights were on and the door locked, so she knew that Emma Parker, her business partner and family friend, was already busy making her famous fried pies.

  As Mandy unlocked the door to the store, she couldn’t help but smile, wondering what kind of get-up Emma would wear to work today. Emma was Mandy’s exact height and size, and she admired the way the older woman dressed, although a tad too fancy to work in.

  Emma proved Mandy’s thoughts right when she rounded the corner wearing a fashionable, store-bought dress in royal blue with a form-fitting jacket that showed off her waist and flared out over her hips. She wore a fancy lace-trimmed apron and held a fresh platter of fried pies. “Good morning, Mandy,” she cheerfully said.

  Mandy nodded. “I see you’ve been working for a while.” She pinched off a corner of a perfectly-shaped half-moon pie. “Crust is wonderful. As usual. What kind of fruit this time?”

  “Apple. We have more canned apples than peaches. I thought I’d wait until closer to the Valentine’s dance to make peach pies.” Emma placed a glass dome over the plate stacked high with her delicacies. “I brought in a half-a-dozen jars of canned cherries in syrup for you.”

  “Thanks, Emma.” Mandy hung her coat on the hall tree by the door and pulled her apron over her head. “I’m eager to make chocolate-covered cherries, but I’m putting it off a little, hoping that Trey will have the molds for the hearts finished. I’d like to make one big batch of chocolate to use for both the melted marshmallow mixture I made yesterday and the sweetened cherries.”

  “Has either of my nephews ever let you down?” Emma said.

  “Never. But this could be our big chance! We just might make enough money by creating a new item for the holiday that we can pay off your nephews and own this store free and clear.” She tied the apron string in the back.

  “One thing for sure. I nearly raised those boys, and I know Clay nor Trey would ever do anything to force us out of the store,” declared Emma, as she walked back into the kitchen.

  “This store is worth a fortune to them,” Mandy said, following Emma. “When I came to town, there wasn’t much of anything but a few saloons and Clay’s mercantile store. And look at it now. We even have a jeweler, a post office…we’re a big railhead town with more businesses coming in almost daily.”

  Mandy began taking out items from the pantry Trey had built for them. “I think I’ll begin with a batch of divinity. You know I have to do it first thing while my arm in still strong enough to beat the candy. Nobody likes glossy divinity.” Mandy began sorting eggs.

  “You’re right about how fast Caprock has grown, but that’s what the merchants of Colorado City wanted,” Emma said. “Just think, if it hadn’t been for them bringing in the railroad and your daddy being the supervisor, we’d never have met, and certainly would never have been friends.”

  Mandy smiled. “Then you got me so involved in the store that I wanted to stay here when my family had to move on down the line. I don’t know if Daddy will ever forgive me for preferring candy to the family.” Seeing the humor in her business partner’s eyes, Mandy laughed out loud.

  “Why don’t you hold off on the divinity until Trey comes by to deliver your heart molds? He’s strong as a mule and can beat the gloss out of that candy.”

  “What makes you think he’ll have the molds here today?” Mandy began to re-sort the eggs.

  “A little birdie told me he was finished with them and would be by today.” Emma measured more flour into her bowl. “Anything interesting going on with you?”

  As if Emma knew something about the valentine that Mandy didn’t. She wanted to throw an egg at the older woman for even asking, but she refrained. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”

  “Just asking, like I do almost every morning.” Emma had a smile on her face that sent Mandy into a panic.

  What was her friend up to? Certainly something out of the ordinary. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  Before Emma could answer, the back door opened and Trey Hemphill walked in with a knapsack over his shoulder. The tall, muscular blacksmith shot a warm, almost seductive smile to Mandy. “Anything going on, Amanda?”

  Mandy clenched the eggs in her right hand so tightly that she almost broke them. Without t
hinking, her left hand went to the valentine in her dress pocket beneath her apron. She looked from aunt to nephew, and couldn’t avoid noticing the smiles they exchanged.

  If one more person asked her if there was ‘anything going on’ with her, she promised to throw enough raw eggs at them to make a triple batch of divinity.

  Chapter 2

  Trey set the burlap sack on the floor. He lifted the lid on the apple pies and picked out the smallest. After taking a big bite, he looked from Amanda to his aunt Emma who stood with their hands on their hips, as if to say...stay out of the profits!

  “Hey, I couldn’t help myself. They smelled larrupin’ and if you don’t want me to sample the wares then you better start lockin’ the screen door.” In jest, he reached for the glass cover a second time and his aunt slapped his hand.

  He shot both women a teasing smile. Lifting the burlap bag, he placed it on the work table he’d made for them. Trey barely missed the basket of eggs.

  Mandy rushed over to the bag and opened it. “I hope those are my valentine molds.” Her excitement filled the air.

  “They are, and I think you’ll be happy with them.” Trey moved the eggs out of the way. “I made them using the exact dimensions in the drawing you gave me, so they better be right.”

  As if each mold were a piece of valued china, she removed them one at a time and lined them up on the work table. Six in all, making eight pieces of candy per mold.

  “I could kiss you for getting these done on time, Trey.” She shot him a brilliant smile that made him weak in the knees. “I can make forty-eight chocolate-covered marshmallow valentines at one time. I’m so thrilled.”

  “So, that’s your favorite candy, Amanda?” Trey asked.

  “Very favorite. When Daddy was a supervisor on the railroad and we lived in Fort Worth there was a little candy store that made them. My daddy accused me of turning into a piece of chocolate because I ate so many.” She checked each mold, running her fingers first around the outside then inside as if she were making certain each one was suitable for making candy for the governor of Texas.