“Oh, Uncle,” Lillian said emotionally and hugged him. She let go of him and walked out of the Saloon-Hotel, Michael following her at a respectable distance. Her heart was racing with the aspect of learning to ride and get to spend more time with Michael.
* * *
“I will help you up,” Michael said, loosening the reins. The short walk from the Saloon-Hotel had been silent, as they could both could feel Uncle Jacob staring after them.
“Thank you,” Lillian breathed as she took his outstretched hand. She shivered as she touched his warm palm and allowed him to lift her up on the saddle.
“I will sit behind you,” Michael explained, “and we will ride to a better riding range.”
“All right,” Lillian agreed. Michael pulled himself easily behind her. As he bent forward to pick up the reins, Lillian could feel his breath on her neck, and her heart missed a beat. Soon they were riding to the outskirts of the main street. They rode past the sheriff’s office, the burnt remains of the General Store until they were riding in tall grass up a small hill.
“Where are we going?” Lillian asked after a while.
“To the field by the old barn,” Michael said.
“Oh, why there?” Lillian replied.
“Soft grass and no one is looking,” Michael explained, then added teasingly, “So no one will see if you make a mistake.”
“Huh, what makes you think I will make a mistake?” she teased back.
“Nothing,” Michael chuckled, “You’ll be perfect; I don’t doubt.”
“All right then,” he said as he guided Walt to the small field by the abandoned barn, “Take the reins.”
“Now?” Lillian asked, sounding nervous.
“Yes, now,” Michael said calmly, “I will stay behind you to guide you.” Lillian took a deep breath and then took the reins into her shaky hands.
“Gently pull,” he said soothingly. Lillian pulled, and the horse moved forward.
“You should move with the horse,” Michael added, “But for now, just focus on steering. You are in charge, and the horse will wait for your direction.” As soon as he said it, Walt began moving faster.
“Oh no,” Lillian whimpered.
“Don’t be nervous,” Michael said, “Just pull back with a little more force.”
Lillian did as he said and laughed a tinkling laugh as the horse obeyed her. She tried making the horse turn and giggled with glee when it did so.
“Excellent,” Michael laughed, “You’re born to ride. Now I think you should try to ride alone.”
“What? No!” Lillian exclaimed.
“You’ll be fine,” Michael replied, “Just remember, you need to take control.” He moved his hand to pull on the reins, making the horse stop. He handed her the reins again and dismounted.
“I will be right next to you,” he added, looking intently into her eyes as he stood beside her, “I believe in you.”
Lillian felt as if she might faint with the passion and certainty in his voice. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opened them again, she smiled at Michael and gently pulled on the reins. She began moving forward, slowly trying to speed up, then quickly slowing back down. Michael walked beside her the entire time, and after a while, Lillian felt more confident. Michael moved aside when he noticed that she was trying to ride a little faster.
Michael’s sweet word reverberated in her mind as she began moving faster than she dared. She tried to make a sharp turn and couldn’t help but heartily laugh when she heard Michael whooping with her trick. All nervousness had evaporated. She trusted the horse and felt as if a guiding presence watched over her.
Is it you, my darling father, who watches over me now? I feel more connected to you now than I have since we lost you… I wonder what that means since I feel him more when Michael is around?
* * *
All too soon, it was the sun. It was starting to begin its descent down the horizon. Michael watched as Lillian rode circle after circle, the joy apparent in her beautiful face.
“We should be heading back before it’s dark,” Michael said.
“Yeah,” Lillian said breathily, slowing down as she rode toward him. She gave him a radiant smile, and Michael felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He had never seen anyone look as stunning and free as Lillian Walter did at that moment.
“Hold tight,” Michael said as he prepared to mount. He put his hands on either side of her small waist and grabbed the reins from her. Michael had to stop himself from holding her tightly close to him. He focused on the riding, and they did not talk. When they neared Lillian’s home, Michael heard Lillian groan heavily.
“Home, sweet home,” Lilian said tiredly.
“Let me help you down,” Michael said as he smoothly dismounted, holding out his strong arms to guide her down. As her small hand disappeared in his, Michael couldn’t help but allow himself to enjoy the feeling of touching her.
“Sheriff Flemming,” Lillian said as she regained her balance on the ground, straightening her dress, “Thank you very much for this afternoon.”
“It was truly my honor, miss,” Michael replied earnestly.
“I would never have believed I could ride the way I did today,” she added with a small smile.
“What can I say, you’re a born rider,” Michael replied.
“I better get back home,” Lillian said sadly.
“You have a good night, miss Lilli,” Michael grinned, tipping her his hat.
Lillian chuckled, “You too, sheriff,” she teased back. She slowly walked back to her home, not looking back. Michael turned around because, to his surprise, it hurt a little to see her leave… him.
Michael Flemming! Boy, am I in trouble now. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would meet someone like her… She is genuinely delightful, real, and wise—and promised to someone else!
Chapter Seven
Lillian stood in front of the small mirror in her room and combed her hair. It had been almost two weeks since her riding lesson with Michael. She was on her way to the Saloon-Hotel, and her nerves fluttered, as Vincent was returning to Rust Canyon any day now.
The new sheriff had become such a strong presence in her life in such a short time. Michael was a regular at the Saloon-Hotel, much to Uncle Jacob’s chagrin. He would order one drink, and sit and observe the patrons of the Saloon, every now and then asking people about the fires and events of this past year.
Lillian would never admit it aloud, but her favorite part of her day now was when the tall, handsome sheriff waltzed inside, his hand on his belt, the other ready to tip her his hat in greeting. Uncle Jacob had decided to give Lillian a job in the kitchen, after her help before the opening. She would prepare breakfast and occasionally help with cleaning the rooms.
Sometimes she was in charge of the desserts for the evening, which she really enjoyed. Lillian baked pies, loaves of bread and would try out more complicated desserts with the help from the Hotel cook, Charlie Banker. Charlie had been a cook at a large hotel in Dallas before he moved out to Rust Canyon. He would make intricate chocolate meringues with whipped cream that looked magical, and he was teaching Lillian.
* * *
“You look nice, dear,” Dorothy said as her daughter walked into the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Lillian beamed.
“I might walk to town later today,” Dorothy said as she sipped her coffee.
“Really?” Lillian asked happily.
“I’m feeling strong today,” Dorothy smiled, “I might go and greet your Uncle.”
“What a wonderful idea, mother,” Lillian said.
“Well, you best get going,” Dorothy said, “You don’t want to be late.”
“I’m going,” Lillian replied, tying her hat under her chin.
“What is that sound?” Dorothy said, suddenly listening intently. Lillian looked out the kitchen window and gasped. She hurried to the front door, Dorothy following her daughter. Outside stood Michael, clutching the re
ins of two horses: old Walt and another black steed that looked much younger and sprier.
“Morning, ladies,” Michael said with a tip of his hat.
“Morning, Sheriff,” Lillian replied, looking confused and flustered.
“I hope I’m not too forward,” Michael began, “But as I finally was able to buy a new horse, I figured it would be a shame to let Walt be alone in my small stable. I had hoped you might want to keep him,” he finished.
“What?” Lillian gasped.
“He took a liking to you, and after all, you gave him his name,” Michael replied.
“Why, sheriff, you are too kind, isn’t he, Lilli?” Dorothy exclaimed.
“No, it’s too much,” Lillian spluttered, “I cannot accept this.” Michael loosely tied the reins to a fence post and walked towards Lillian and her mother.
“I don’t want old Walt to hear this,” Michael said in a playful, mock-serious voice, “But I would hate for him to become jealous of the new steed.”
Lillian bit her lips together to stop her giggle, “Is that so?” she replied with a raised eyebrow.
“He needs gentler hands than mine,” Michael continued, looking Lillian in the eye.
“I don’t know…” Lillian’s voice trailed off.
“Truth be told,” Michael said sincerely, “He is too slow for me. I need a younger horse, but I would hate to have to put him down because he was my father’s horse.”
“Well,” Lillian hesitated, looking at her mother.
“I think it is a lovely gesture to your father’s memory,” Dorothy said, “You must come over for tea, as a thank you for your generosity.”
“I would be honored,” Michael replied.
“All right then,” Lillian smiled, “But I think I will still walk to the Hotel.”
“I will tie him here in the shade, there’s plenty of grass there,” Michael said, returning to the two horses.
“Lilli, dear, don’t you worry about a thing,” Dorothy said sweetly, “I will ask the Hendersons next door if we can’t keep Walt in their stable. They have the room, I am sure.”
“Thank you, mother,” Lillian replied, “Now I must hurry.”
Lillian walked towards Michael, who stood in front of his new horse.
“Can I walk with you?” Michael asked her.
“Of course,” Lillian replied.
“Your mother looks well,” Michael said as they walked the short distance from Lillian’s house towards the Saloon-Hotel.
“She really does,” Lillian agreed, “I’m ever so happy. I feel as if she is turning back into the person she once was.”
“I’m glad,” Michael said.
“Honestly,” Lillian began cautiously, “I think it might be in part because of you,” she said quietly.
“Me?”
“Yes,” Lillian chuckled, “You coming over to visit, has brightened her day, and for that, I am grateful, Michael.”
He looked at her intently. She had never called him Michael before. It had felt too intimate, not proper. But Lillian could not help herself; she knew deep down that she was falling for him.
“I have to admit that my favorite part of the day is when I get to see you…” Michael said, but an ear-splitting scream nearby caused them both to look around alarmed.
“Fire!” someone yelled.
“Oh, my goodness,” Lillian shrieked.
“Lillian, go!” Michael demanded, “Run to the Hotel.”
“I will take your horse,” Lillian said, thinking fast.
“Thank you,” Michael said, handing her the reins. Their fingers touched, and Michael looked at her briefly and stroked his thumb over the back of her hand before he ran away from her. Lillian took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and then she led the horse away from the cloud of smoke that was now filling the sky.
* * *
Michael ran in the direction of the smoke, tying his handkerchief over his mouth as he neared the billowing black smoke. All around were people running and screaming, children looking for their mothers, and panic. A group of people stood near the now aflame post office.
“Lord help us,” Michael whispered as he observed the burning house.
“Sheriff,” a man yelled, “Sheriff, I think there’s still someone inside!”
“Bring the buckets,” another man yelled. A terrifying scream could be heard from the inside.
“I’m going in,” Michael said, running without hesitation inside. As soon as he entered the flaming wreckage, the heat became almost completely unbearable. But he kept his head low, looking for the man inside.
“Here,” a shaky voice called from behind a large wooden counter, “I’m here.”
“Crawl towards me,” Michael called.
“I can’t,” the man said, “My leg…” A large piece from the ceiling cracked.
This whole place will collapse any moment, Michael thought as he looked around. He saw that he would have to go through the back as the door he had entered through was now ablaze. Michael hurried towards the injured man, covering his eyes with his arm.
“Can you stand?” he asked the man, which he now recognized as the Post Office Manager, John Hickley.
“I think so,” John replied, putting his weight on his uninjured leg, Michael supporting him. John winced as they stood but did not stop. They moved towards the back door, and Michael looked around.
“Is there anyone else inside?” he asked urgently, the sound of the crackling fire sounding ominous.
“No, only me,” John replied, biting his jaw with pain as his injured leg moved, “I hadn’t opened the office yet.”
“Good,” Michael said, “Now, on three, we are going to have to jump through the door.”
“All right,” John replied nervously.
“One, two…” A terrifying creak above them made Michael push them forwards, and they could not have been a second later. As they crashed through the door, the entire roof fell through. They landed with a heavy thud outside, and fresh air filled Michael’s lungs.
“Are you…” Michael coughed, “All right?” he asked between the heaving coughs.
“My leg hurts,” John replied, “But otherwise I’m fine.”
“Good,” Michael grumbled as he sat up.
“Everything’s ruined,” John said sadly.
“What matters is that you got out,” Michael said.
“I don’t understand what happened,” John continued, “I was sorting the letters when I smelled smoke. There were no candles lit, I just… I don’t understand.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Michael groaned. A group of people came running towards them, including the town’s physician, Doctor Samuel Littlefield.
“Hey doc,” Michael said, “John needs his leg mended.”
“Come on, men,” Doctor Littlefield commanded, “Let’s carry him to my office.” The men around him lifted John up and ran with him towards the doctor’s office.
“You should come too, sheriff,” he added.
“No, I’m fine,” Michael said as he stood up.
“You should let me examine you,” the Doctor said.
“Nah, doc, I’ll be fine,” Michael dismissed, “I need to help them put out the fire.”
“Well, I’m not happy,” Doctor Littlefield muttered but hurried after the men carrying John Hickley.
* * *
They managed to put out the fire in four hours. Michael ached all over after jumping through the door, but it was more pressing to keep the fire from spreading over to the other houses around the post office.
“Good job, everyone,” Michael said to the people around him that had been working hard, bringing buckets of water in rapid succession, which caused them to contain the fire. The Post Office was food for the light, with a new delivery of letters having arrived just that morning. This fire seemed to have more effect on the towns-folk than some of the others had, as their letters were now gone forever.
Michael walked away from the firey remains and looked ar
ound for his horse. For a moment, he could not remember where it was. Then his talk with Lillian before came flashing forwards. He groaned internally.
I cannot believe what I told her, and then I ran away. What must she think? Perhaps she was mortified? I will have to see her.
He walked towards the Saloon-Hotel, causing people to stare at his scorched clothes. He noticed his horse standing at the hitching post outside the hotel, biting grass.
Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance) Page 7
