The Feisty Bride's Unexpected Match: A Western Historical Romance Book

by Lydia Olson

  Sarah felt the weight of her horse shift violently from left to right. She struggled to keep a hold of the reins as her body moved to the right.

  “Sarah,” David called out, “try to steady yourself!”

  Gripping the reins, Sarah pulled her horse to the left. “I’m trying,” she said, “I think the thunder scared him.”

  “You’re alright!” David said. “Just pull him close to—” But before David could finish, Sarah’s horse grunted and jerked left. The momentum caused her to be thrown from the saddle into the mud just as the horse lost its footing and collapsed on the ground, sliding backward.

  “David!” Sarah screamed.

  He slid off his horse and landed on his side. From the huff that he emitted, it sounded like the air had been knocked out of him.

  Sarah’s horse, struggling to get back on its legs, tumbled down and screamed out as it fell down the mountain into darkness. Its cries faded and then cut out. The animal became lost to the abyss. Sarah, a searing pain on her left side from the fall, struggled to grab hold of the rocks on the ground—but the mud that accumulated from the rain caused her to slide down the mountain, pulling her like an invisible rope to join whatever fate her horse had sustained.

  “David, please!” she shrieked desperately. “Help me!”

  Scrambling toward her, David regained his footing and made a dash for Sarah. She was only a few feet from falling off the side. David slipped with every other step he took as he scrambled toward her.

  Sarah took a quick look over her shoulder, the drop-off now just a few feet away. “David! I’m going to fall!”

  The edge of the cliff was about four feet away, with darkness closing in around Sarah’s feet as the momentum of her fall increased. The edge was now three feet away, then two. Sarah was certain that her life was about to end violently.

  I’m going to die, she thought. My God—is this how it all ends?

  Her life, strangely, flashed before her eyes—but not events that preceded her fall. No—the future was what she saw—one that could have been. She saw herself in her wedding dress, standing at the altar with tears of joy in her eyes. Sarah was holding onto another man’s hand, joining him in marriage as she looked lovingly into his eyes. But they were not Michael Crane’s eyes she was looking into—they were David Bryant’s. As Sarah closed her eyes and felt herself robbed of that future, David made a desperate dive toward her, reaching out and grabbing hold of a rock in the ground with his left hand. He then shot out his right hand, grabbing Sarah by her wrist just as she was about to fall off the mountain.

  “Got you,” David said.

  Sarah cried out as David grabbed her. She closed her eyes, her heart still feeling like it was about to jump out of her chest—but she was relieved. David then slowly pulled her up. When he brought her to relative safety, Sarah grabbed hold of him and burrowed her face in his chest, sobbing. They sat several minutes in the slippery mud, rain washing over them, until Sarah quieted some.

  “Oh my God,” she whimpered. “I thought … I thought that was the end.”

  David held her close, his chest heaving in and out as he tightened his grip on her. “It’s not,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  The two remained on the side of the mountain near the edge for several minutes. The rain and winds slowly subsided as they took some time to recover from what could have been a terrible, shocking fate.

  ***

  David felt Sarah’s arms wrapped around his waist as they pressed onward. It was a certainty that the other horse had been lost, but David was thankful that Sarah had managed to escape with her life. They were nearing the bottom of the road, the terrain opening up to flatter ground with no signs of a cliffside.

  “That poor horse,” Sarah murmured, looking exhausted. “I feel terrible.”

  David didn’t reply. He simply wanted to find them some refuge for the night. Even though the wind and the rains that accompanied them had let up, he was freezing from the whole ordeal. His clothes were soaked. His skin felt like ice. The bruises he had no doubt sustained from the fall off his horse were in the early stages of forming. He felt like he had taken a beating the likes of which he never had before. The only thing offering him warmth was Sarah’s touch, and a push to get him through to the end.

  “We’re almost there,” David said. “Just hold onto me tightly.”

  Sarah, her face pressed against David’s back, shook like she had an electric current running through her. “I’m so cold, David. I just want to be warm.”

  “We will be,” he said to her. He removed a hand from his saddle and grabbed onto the one she was holding around his waist. “We will be.”

  David continued on for what felt like an eternity. He looked all around the mountain for any signs of refuge, exhausted, and wanting nothing more than a fire and some sleep. Come on, he thought, eyes scanning. We need a break here. Something. Anything.

  David made a little more headway before salvation was given and he spotted a small opening to a cave just off to the right. He closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered to whomever was listening as he brought the horse to the opening. “Sarah,” he said. “Open your eyes. Look.”

  Sarah looked up as David pointed with his saddle reins in hand. “Finally,” she breathed.

  “Come,” David said. “I’ll help you down.”

  Sarah was practically dead weight as David lowered her from the horse. He rubbed her arms for a moment to get her blood flowing. Her skin was pale and her clothes sodden.

  “Follow me,” he said as he made sure his horse stayed in place. “Let’s make sure there are no visitors.” He took the rifle from his saddlebag and wiped the condensation off of it before he approached the entrance to the cave. He looked around. There was zero illumination to offer them any view at all as David rested the butt of the rifle against his shoulder.

  “Do you see anything?” Sarah asked as her teeth chattered.

  David examined the cave. He couldn’t see much. It appeared to be a space with just enough room to house the two of them and nothing more.

  “This will work fine,” he said. “I’m just surprised that nothing has taken up residence in here.”

  “David,” Sarah said with a groan.

  He prepared to answer her call as he turned around, his mouth open and prepared to reply—but he didn’t. His mouth stayed frozen in an O-shape as his stomach quickly turned into a knot as he laid eyes on a large black bear standing at the entrance to the cave. Its mouth was open, and it stood on its hind legs and growled as it swiped its paws through the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sarah estimated that the bear must have been around 350 pounds at least. It amazed her that even though her body felt weary and depleted, and her mind was ready to slip into a slumber, she was unable to stop herself from trying to deduce what the robust animal in front of her weighed.

  Always the academic, she thought.

  David chambered a round into his rifle and took aim at the animal’s chest.

  “David!” Sarah said as she grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

  The bear landed back down on all fours. It kept its focus on David and Sarah, completely defensive and showing it in by throwing around its weight. David didn’t shoot—but his finger was still curled around the trigger, ready to do so, if need be.

  “Sarah,” David said. “If it charges at us, we’re in big trouble.”

  “Behind the bear, David,” she said. “Look.”

  The bear moved a few paces forward. It cast a glance over its shoulder—and then its cub came into view. It grunted a few times at the cub. The infant was small as it pawed at its mother, no bigger than the mother bear’s leg.

  David slowly lowered the rifle and relaxed.

  “Easy,” Sarah said. “We don’t want to frighten it.”

  The mother bear didn’t budge as she looked at David and Sarah. She was backing off, but appeared to wait for Sarah and David to react. After a few seconds, Dav
id stepped back a foot and Sarah followed suit. The bear waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, it began to depart from the area. The cub followed behind it, and once Sarah was certain they were both gone—at least for now—she breathed easy.

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Sarah said as she rested her back against the cave wall and sat down. “I’d like to go to bed now.”

  David lowered the rifle. He panted as he followed Sarah’s lead of sitting down and resting. He laughed, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  Sarah, exhaustion causing her to join in on the laughter, said, “What’s so funny?”

  “A stickup,” he said, “a tavern with happy drunks, natives, rainstorms, a fall off a cliff, and now a black bear and her cub.” His laugh grew louder. “I’m hoping that’s it for the bumps in our journey.”

  Sarah laughed along with him. It offered her warmth to be able to share the moment with David as they sat in the cave. Once the laughter subsided, she felt the chill from her damp clothes once again causing her to shake.

  “Do you think we can start a fire?” she asked.

  “Of course,” David said as he grabbed his rifle and stood. “It’s in the bags. I’ll check on the horse and then get the fire going. Are you okay?”

  Sarah nodded. “Yes. I’ll be alright.”

  David jutted his chin to the opening of the cave. “Well-done seeing that cub,” he said. “I would have shot if you didn’t say something. That might have only made matters worse.”

  Sarah smiled. “Hey,” she said, “we’re partners now, right?”

  David’s face melted into a comfortable grin. “I believe we are,” he said as he headed for the horse. “One moment.”

  The fire was roaring ten minutes later. Thankfully, the wood that was in the saddlebags was still dry. Though they didn’t have a change of clothes to wear, the fire still did a decent job at drying what they had on them.

  “Do we have anything to eat?” Sarah asked.

  David retrieved the corn from the natives and the bread he had received from Delores Farley, along with the remnants of jerky they had on hand. They devoured their meal and filled their bellies as they inched closer to the fire. After an hour passed, Sarah felt herself recouping a bit from the entire ordeal.

  “I was certain I was going to fall off of that cliff,” she said. “I can’t believe you were able to catch me.”

  David held his words for a moment, looking at Sarah with clear relief. “I was glad I was able to,” he replied. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

  “I am,” Sarah said. “I’m just a little cold. And tired beyond belief.”

  “We’ll definitely be sore in the morning. But we’re almost there, Sarah. We’re almost home.”

  Sarah patted the ground with her hands. “It’ll be a bit of a rough surface to sleep on, but I think I can manage.”

  “It’s going to be cold,” David said. “We’ll need to stick close to the fire.”

  “David,” Sarah said, nervous to ask what she wanted to ask, “would it be alright if you … held me? To stay warm … for both of us?”

  It took David a moment to reply. “Yes, of course,” he finally said. “Here.” He lowered himself on his side, and Sarah moved in front of him, facing the fire. She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her, closing her eyes as the combination of the fire and David’s body heat warmed her.

  “Is it helping?” David murmured.

  Sarah nodded. Very much so. “Yes,” she said. “Do you feel it? Thank you.”

  “I do feel it; it helps. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

  Sarah melted in David’s arms as he held her. Her stiff, sore, and cold body was no longer a concern as she lay within the safety of his arms. There was no other place she wanted to be. She was safe. She was secure. She was confident and felt like she was discovering a newfound happiness that she would definitely want to feel again. She was comforted more than she had been since before her father had passed.

  “Would you rub my shoulders for me?” Sarah asked. “I’m about ready to finally fall asleep, but I’m just a little cold still.”

  David complied. He grasped her shoulders and rubbed them with his palms.

  “Good?” he inquired.

  “Good,” she sighed. “I hope nothing else happens. Perhaps it’s in vain. Either way, I don’t think I can take much more,” she said sleepily.

  David chuckled, his voice vibrating through her back. “I think we’ve had enough for one day,” he said. “We’ve earned a good rest.”

  The comforting notion of warm, safe sleep finally arrived and Sarah closed her eyes. “Goodnight, David,” she murmured.

  “Goodnight, Sarah,” he answered.

  As she slowly drifted off, the last thought that came into her mind—one that made her heart swell with joy—was that she was truly and deeply falling for David Bryant.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The door to the Clarendon sheriff’s office flew open and slammed against the wall, startling twenty-two-year-old Deputy Owen Adams. Adams was a ginger-haired kid with a Georgia drawl who could barely grow a mustache. His clothes were always slightly loose on his lithe frame. He lurched to his feet, having been slouched behind Deputy Crane’s desk for the past hour taking a nap. He’d missed three people who had come to see the sheriff, so deeply had he slumbered. He’d only been on the job just shy of a year but Crane had managed to enlist him into his side business nonetheless.

  Adams cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry.” He stood tall. “Morning, Chief.”

  Crane said nothing as he removed his hat and tossed it on the sheriff’s desk. The sheriff’s office itself was a cramped spot. Nothing but the two cedarwood desks facing each other across the room and the single jail cell occupied the space, and everyone who worked there—save for the sheriff—was on the take from Tucker Willis or otherwise. A big part of that was thanks to Crane’s influence. Essentially, he was the man who managed to corrupt the other two deputies he worked with, along with three other residents of Clarendon.

  “How’d the search go?” Adams asked as he was nudged aside by Crane.

  “How do you think it went?” Crane said. “I was only able to go to one other town, and they weren’t there.” He sat down in his desk and opened a drawer. “I don’t know where Sarah Harris is or David Bryant.”

  “They might be dead, Chief. Maybe?”

  Crane shrugged and produced a packet of tobacco and rolling papers. “Maybe,” he said as he began sprinkling tobacco into the papers, “but I can’t say for sure. And I can’t keep looking around for them. I need to stay here. If the sheriff gets back and catches wind I’m gone, it’ll complicate things.”

  “I thought the old man didn’t care about what was happening on the side,” Adams said.

  “There’s a difference between him turning his back when we take a little extra for cutting wanted men loose and taking up with someone like Tucker Willis. No, he doesn’t care about the petty crimes we commit—but the sheriff would hang me himself he knew I was working with Tucker.”

  “Tucker stopped by while you were gone,” Adams said. “Asked me to tell you to stop by Arthur Stedman’s place when you got a chance.”

  Crane closed his eyes. “Did he say anything else?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did. He made an odd whistling noise. Kind of sounded like a train.”

  Shaking his head, Crane thought, that ingrate is just trying to make me mad.

  Crane rolled his cigarette tight with his thumb and index finger. He knew he’d have to deal with the whole train robbery situation. The chances of Tucker failing plan to rob the train were slim to none. That being the case, Crane decided that if Tucker was going to follow through with it, he’d need to be alongside him during the planning. He had to make sure that he helped cover the man’s tracks once the job was complete. Plus, the cut that he’d receive from doing it would be enough take care of his future wife beyond her expectations—eve
n though there was a chance that it might not be Sarah Harris, when all was said and done.

  Crane lit his cigarette with a match and puffed. “Sheriff will be back any day now from his little vacation. We need to move fast. I just got word from the stagecoach company in town that the coach our passengers were on was just declared missing.”

  “That’ll help, right? I mean, not raising suspicion now while we try to look for them.”

  “It helps,” Crane said. “But we can’t waste too much time.”

  “What can I do to help, Chief?” Adams asked.