The Sheriffs of Savage Wells

by Sarah M. Eden

  “And it goes without saying, does it, that I couldn’t possibly have prevented it?”

  “There are few criminals who would have taken you seriously,” he said. “Not because you can’t do the job, but because no woman ever has. They’d figure there was nothing to worry about.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “How is anyone ever going to realize a woman can do this job if no woman is ever allowed to do it?”

  “What was the town supposed to do? Issue a challenge to every coldhearted villain to come see if they could best Savage Wells’s female sheriff? How many of the people in this town would be caught in the cross fires while you proved a point?”

  “I never get to prove anything. Never.” She slammed her hands onto her hips. “And the few times I do accomplish something, no one notices.”

  “No one notices, do they? Mrs. Wilhite mentioning how much you help her with her ribbons, that’s not noticing? Or Mrs. Carol knowing the minute you came into her shop that you would take her worries seriously? Or Andrew looking to you to know if he was safe to approach Rupert’s tree? Or Gideon—” He scratched at the back of his head just below his hat. “Well, Gideon certainly notices plenty.”

  “A blasted lot of good his notice does me.” She spun about, starting yet another circuit of the porch.

  “Do I need to stay here and protect the good doctor against your wrath?”

  She glared at him with enough fire to singe. “You, sir, are in my black books right now, so you’d best watch yourself.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I know you’re upset about the job, but there’s no call for turning that against me personally.”

  “You made this personal, Cade.” She pulled free of his grasp. “The first time you started flirting with me, I wondered if it was just a strategy for you. But I started believing you actually meant it. And then kissing me only to turn around and feed me to the dogs not ten minutes later—” She shook her head, her mouth pulling in a tense line. “It may not have been personal to you, but you made it personal to me.”

  “That ain’t fair.” He hadn’t known what would happen at that meeting. And he certainly hadn’t kissed her as a strategic move.

  “Life is never fair.” She leaned against the wall at the far end of the porch, her back turned to him. “Just go, Cade. You’ve done enough for one day.”

  He stood rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do. He had taken the income she needed. He suspected he’d dealt a blow to her pride as well. He’d meant what he’d said. She would make a good sheriff, and if it weren’t for the money, she might’ve been given the chance to prove it. But they hadn’t the luxury of an experiment like that. He’d not let Savage Wells become another Abilene.

  Gideon arrived in the midst of their tense silence. He spared Cade a fleeting glance before crossing to Paisley. Cade couldn’t hear what they said; he didn’t stay long enough to try.

  He walked slowly back to the hotel and up to his room. His thoughts were heavy as he packed his few belongings, getting them ready to be moved to the sheriff’s rooms above the jail.

  You’ve done enough. She fully blamed him for what had happened. She’d likely never talk to him again. And though he knew he hadn’t the right to hold her in his arms or kiss her one more time, the knowledge that she wouldn’t have allowed it cut deep.

  He couldn’t blame her. Getting this job and preserving the peace he’d sought for so long had cost him Paisley, and that was proving a steep price to pay.

  The town’s weak link. Cade had called her that. Gideon voting against her had hurt, but Cade plowing her over like he had pained her the most. He’d allowed no discussion, offered her no opportunity to make her case. He’d simply taken charge and made the decision for everyone.

  His earlier compliments had, it seemed, been rather empty. Perhaps he’d been attempting to distract her, to get her to let her guard down. Heavens, she’d actually kissed him right before the meeting. He’d been a more than willing participant, for sure, and he’d been the one to tighten the embrace. But she had kissed him. She’d believed in that moment there was reason for it.

  There’s more than one way to skin a cat, love. Little had she known then that she was the cat.

  “Come inside, Pais,” Gideon insisted. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

  She let him guide her to the front door. Cade had already left.

  She followed Gideon to the kitchen. He motioned for her to sit at the table. She didn’t need a second invitation. She was tired. So very tired.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. When had life become so hard? Only five years ago Mama had still been alive, Papa was healthy and whole. Even living in Abilene, there’d been a certain steadiness to their lives that she missed. And there’d been Joshua. They were going to be married. The future had looked unendingly bright.

  “How has your father been feeling?” Gideon broke into her sad reminiscence.

  “Poorly, truth be told,” she said. “He has been coughing again.”

  He nodded, waiting at the stove while the coffeepot heated. “If his cough grows worrisome, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  Gideon stirred the contents of the coffeepot. “Is his mind wandering more than usual?”

  “Not more frequently, but more drastically.” She rubbed at her aching neck. “He used to at least realize he was forgetting something, even if he couldn’t sort out what that something was. Now when his memory slips, he doesn’t seem to realize it. It’s as if he’s stepping further and further into a fog. I know someday soon I won’t be able to see him at all, only the outline of a man I used to know.”

  “I wish I could do something to make this all go away, Pais. I really do.”

  She could manage a smile for him at that sentiment. “Mama often said, ‘Wishing doesn’t turn sour milk into cream.’ Life certainly has poured me a great deal of sour milk lately.”

  He watched her from the stove. “I am sorry about how the votes played out. It should have been handled better.”

  “I won’t argue with you on that.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I would have liked to have been given even a single minute to speak for myself. More than that, even, I’d have liked to have received at least one vote. I’d have accepted even a halfhearted one.”

  “The council had to vote the way it did,” he insisted. “Like it or not, the changes at the bank forced our hand.”

  “If not for the bank, would the votes really have gone differently in another two days?”

  His immediate discomfort answered her question.

  “The council was never going to choose me, were they?” She should have realized as much.

  “No, Paisley. I don’t think so.”

  That certainly didn’t add a silver lining to anything. “Do you think women will ever be given a fair shake, Gid? We’d make fine sheriffs and council members and even doctors, but no one ever gives us a chance.”

  He thought about it a moment. “Women can vote in this territory. That’s a step in the right direction. And I’d guess, in time, women will start inching their way into those professions in which they aren’t currently welcome. Change is like that. It’s often very slow.”

  “Are you telling me to be patient? Because that’s not one of my virtues.”

  He smiled for the first time since his return. “Maybe I’m just trying to get out of your black books so you won’t shoot me the next time we run into each other down a dark alley.”

  “Savage Wells doesn’t have any dark alleys.”

  He wiped his brow with more than a touch of melodrama. “What a relief.”

  “You are just about the nuttiest doctor I’ve ever known.” She liked that about him. He made the harsh realities of life and illness and suffering a little easier to take.

  He poured a cup of coffee and han
ded it to her. “I’ll likely get my nose cut off for sticking it where it doesn’t belong, but I suspect your finances are tighter than you’ve been letting on.”

  She held her hands around the blessedly warm cup and let the steam cloud on her face. “I have less than twenty dollars left,” she admitted. “Not nearly enough for the new coat Papa needs or for fuel for the winter, let alone food and repairs to the roof.”

  He poured himself a cup and sat near her at the table. “So the job was more than a matter of pride.”

  “I was simply excited to have found work I’d truly enjoy. I could have made a difference and helped people.” She sipped at the hot coffee. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now.”

  Gideon blew on his own coffee, the steam wafting away from him. “You could come help me, now and then. I get overrun more and more often. I’ll have a few slow days in a row followed by an unending flood of people. I could use a nurse.”

  It was a kind offer but ultimately a foolish one. “I don’t know anything about being a nurse. I’d be very little help to you.”

  “You’re bright and clever and a hard worker,” he insisted. “You would catch on quickly.”

  “And in the meantime, I’d be a cross between a burden and a charity case.”

  He set his cup on the table, shaking his head at her. “Is that how this is going to play out? Tonight’s decision will mean you spend the next who knows how long wallowing in self-pity again?”

  “I am not wallowing. I’m being realistic.”

  He held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t want to hash out this old argument. We’ve both had a tough day. Will you at least consider my offer? There’s plenty of work outside of actual nursing that you could do.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  And she did. She thought about a lot of things as she made her way home. Heavens, she’d wanted the sheriff job, and not just for the money. She could have been good. She could have helped people. She could have supported herself and her father doing something she loved.

  She’d allowed herself to actually believe she’d had a chance, that she might have come out the victor. And she’d tried so hard. That was what hurt deepest. She’d done her very best and tried her very hardest. And it wasn’t good enough.

  She would let herself “wallow,” as Gideon had called it, but only for one night. In the morning, she needed to have a plan. She’d see to it Papa had what he needed. She’d find income enough to pay their bills. And somewhere in the midst of it, she’d find a way to be happy with the hand life had dealt her.

  Savage Wells was every bit as short on jobs as Paisley had suspected when first tossing her hat into the sheriff ring. What the town was no longer short on was reasons to whisper as she passed or chances to pat her hand consolingly when talking to her. Not only had she lost her bid in a public way, but her money troubles could no longer be hidden.

  “I’ll just tuck in an extra couple of eggs,” Mrs. Holmes said in her “I’m terribly sorry” voice.

  “It was an extra bit of ribbon I didn’t need anyway,” Mrs. Wilhite insisted while dropping a length of burgundy into Paisley’s hand.

  “Bring your father by for a haircut, no charge,” Mrs. Irving offered on behalf of her husband.

  Paisley was grateful, she really was, but subsisting on charity was a difficult thing. The town’s kindness would help her get by for a time, but what she really needed was an every-day, long-term job, and everyone was fresh out of those.

  Her job search took her past the Gilbert house late the second afternoon following the council’s decision. Andrew was in his usual perch, his shotgun laying across his lap. Fall had dropped enough leaves to make him visible in the treetop.

  “How are things up there, Andrew?” she called out to him.

  “Saw a couple of strangers riding into town,” Andrew said, his eyes scanning the horizon.

  Instinct took over in an instant. “Did they look like shady characters?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Hmm. “On horseback or driving a wagon?”

  “Horseback,” he said. “Will you tell Sheriff O’Brien about them?” Andrew looked down at her for the first time. “They didn’t look dangerous, but they’re strangers. I’m not fond of strangers.”

  “Sure enough,” she said. “Can you tell me what they looked like?”

  Andrew thought a minute. “Kinda dirty and dusty. They wore chaps and leather vests and wide-brimmed hats.”

  Sounded like a couple of ranch hands.

  “I’ll let the sheriff know, Andrew.” Calling someone else “the sheriff” felt odd. She’d let herself imagine being the sheriff too many times. “I think you can come down, Andrew. Cade’ll watch out for the town. You know he will.”

  Andrew shook his head immediately. “Can’t do that. I have to keep watch.”

  “You don’t have to now. You really don’t.”

  His intent gaze was back on the horizon. “Bad things happen when I stop watching.”

  Oh, Andrew. I worry about you. “Promise me you won’t climb up there during any lightning storms.”

  “Everybody knows that, Paisley,” he said.

  “Say howdy to your folks for me.”

  “I will.”

  She’d need to stop by now and then to check on Andrew. He always grew more frantic as the end of autumn approached. Wyoming didn’t allow a person to spend hours on end in a tree during the winter. Instead, he spent those months pacing and panicking inside his parents’ home. Cade wouldn’t know how to settle him down.

  A few trips out to Tansy’s place would be a good idea as well. And dropping in on Mrs. Carol might help keep her from fretting over her missing items. Mrs. Wilhite would appreciate a chat as well. Perhaps she could manage that between earning a living and taking care of her father. Sleeping was rather overrated.

  In the meantime, she still had a job to secure.

  Mr. Cooper was at a table in the corner of the restaurant bent over some papers when she stepped inside.

  “Are you still looking for a waitress?” she asked.

  He looked up. “Are you applying for the position?” His feigned English accent hadn’t improved over the years. “I have heard that you need a job.”

  “I do,” Paisley said. “If you don’t have anyone yet, I’m applying.”

  “Well, then, it seems we’ve solved two problems.” He turned back to his papers. “You can start tonight at dinner. Be here at four o’clock on the dot.”

  Relief mingled with resignation.

  “And don’t wear your gun,” Mr. Cooper added. “We don’t want to scare away the customers.”

  Oh, yes. This was going to be just fabulous.

  Paisley’s first customer at the restaurant was Mr. Thackery, whom she’d not seen since he’d dropped out of the sheriffing race. “I’d heard you were working at the Billings Ranch nearby,” she said. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “And you, Miss Bell.” He set his hat on the table beside him. “I got my first pay today and thought I’d come celebrate.”

  “An excellent idea. What’ll you have?”

  He rattled off a quick couple of things. She wrote down his order in the notepad she’d once used for her sheriffing notes. There was a painful irony in that. At least you have a job. Things could be worse.

  “I was sorry to hear you were voted out of the running,” Thackery said. “Though it won’t mean much, I thought you made a fine showing for yourself.”

  His eyes reflected a kindness devoid of pity. She appreciated that. “I suppose in the end all any of us can hope to do is make a fine showing for ourselves.”

  He nodded a bit sadly. Perhaps he’d wanted the job more than his early departure indicated.

  Not wishing to dwell on their mutual disappointments, she jumped back to the business at hand
. “I’ll let Mr. Cooper know your order, and we’ll have it out as soon as can be.”

  She’d made it as far as the next table when Thackery spoke again. “Will you be working here from now on?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed awkwardly. “Maybe I could come have a slice of cake sometime. We could share stories about being a sheriff’s second fiddle.”

  She nodded with full empathy. “I think I’d enjoy talking to someone who understands that.”

  She’d only just set Thackery’s plate of chicken-fried steak in front of him when Cade and Gideon came in. She knew they often ate at the restaurant, but somehow she’d not expected to see them, at least not on her first night. She and Cade hadn’t spoken since the night he’d run roughshod over her at the council meeting. If he meant to gloat, she’d have a difficult time not tipping a bowl of soup into his lap.

  “Well, howdy there, Cade. Gideon. Do you two know what you want tonight?”

  Their surprise was even greater than her own.

  “Are you working here now?” Cade asked.

  “Wednesdays and Fridays during the day and every night,” she said.

  Gideon watched her closely. “Does this mean you won’t come by and help at my place now and then?”

  “On the contrary.” She’d thought it through and knew she’d do well to rebuild her savings. If that meant working smaller jobs between her hours at the restaurant, then she’d do it. She pulled her notepad from her apron pocket along with the nub of a pencil she’d been using. “What can I get for you two?”

  “Careful what you order, Gideon. Anything Paisley writes in her notebook is gospel in this town.”

  She narrowed her gaze on Cade. Was he mocking her or teasing? It was impossible to tell. She’d do best to act as though she saw it as one great joke. He had seen enough of the holes in her armor. She didn’t need to point out any others.

  “That’s right. No changing your mind on your meals.” She held her pencil at the ready, watching them both with patient expectation.