The Sheriff’s Tender-Hearted Bride: A Christian Historical Romance Novel

by Chloe Carley

  “What about this ranch in Montana? I don’t remember any ranch in Montana,” Aline said and her aunt smiled.

  “Lakestone. Your father was a romantic at heart. He thought he and your mother could just head out west on the trail and start a new life together on the plains. But it wasn’t as simple as that. Your mother fell pregnant with you, and they never got to Montana—not to live, anyway. But I understand it’s a nice enough place. He went out there for two weeks and came back with the deeds. Wide-open prairie, the mountains beyond, and good honest folks living out the American dream,” her aunt replied.

  Aline smiled, her father had always been something of a romantic. He used to sit her on his knee and talk about setting off into the sunset on the trail with only a pack on his back and a song in his heart.

  “Montana, that’s a long way from here,” Aline noted as Sammy rolled onto his stomach, almost falling from her lap.

  “The railroad goes that way, Lakestone is on the line. You could get a train out there,” her aunt replied.

  “What do you mean, a train out there?” Aline repeated, looking at her aunt, who smiled at her.

  “Well, what’s keeping you here now, Aline? This place is gone, it’ll be up for sale by the end of the week. And I doubt you want to come and live with an old woman like me—besides, Sammy makes me sneeze,” she said, and she let out a great whoop of a sneeze, causing the cat to startle.

  Montana? I can’t move to Montana, Aline thought to herself. But then, what else am I to do?

  Her aunt was right—there was nothing left for her in this town, filled as it was with unpleasant memories. Here, she would always be the widow of Damon Hale. A man killed for his debts and who’d left his widow destitute. But perhaps out in Montana, things could be different.

  “But… I don’t know the first thing about farming, or about ranch life,” Aline protested, and her aunt smiled.

  “Do you think your father did? Do you think half the men and women who go out there on the trail do? No, they go for a new start, Aline and that’s what you need. A new start,” her aunt said.

  “And what about you? I can’t just leave you here alone,” Aline said, for her aunt had been as good as a mother to her since her own dear mother had passed away.

  “Of course you can. I’ll be quite all right. And who knows, perhaps I’ll come join you one day. Listen, Aline. You’re a young woman who has had a terrible blow inflicted to her, but the good Lord has given you a chance for a new start. Go to Montana and make it,” her aunt said, looking at Aline with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Well… perhaps… perhaps I will,” Aline said, amazed at her own sudden resolve and the way in which that resolve so suddenly replaced her anger toward Damon.

  She wouldn’t let him dictate her happiness from beyond the grave. He was gone, and good riddance to him.

  Lakestone, it has a nice sound to it, she thought, as Sammy purred approvingly on her lap and the prospect of a new adventure filled her with excitement.

  Chapter Three

  The train was full and there was a sense of anticipation in the air at the station, as families gathered to wave goodbye to their loved ones. Aline was struggling with her bags, helped by her aunt Miranda, who was carrying Sammy in his basket.

  “Hurry, Aunt Miranda, the train leaves in five minutes,” Aline called as they pushed through the crowds.

  “I never thought this many folk would want to go west. There’ll be no one left in this town before long,” her aunt replied.

  The train whistle sounded, clouds of smoke and stream rolling across the platform. There were families wishing fond farewells to one another and sweethearts sharing a long goodbye. One of the stewards helped Aline to load her cases into the luggage car before she turned to her aunt and smiled.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” she said, and her aunt embraced her.

  “You get yourself settled and write to me. Then I’ll come visit—who knows, I might like it so much that I’ll stay,” her aunt replied.

  Aline smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Miranda. For everything,” she said, kissing her aunt on the cheek.

  “You take care of yourself now, and Sammy,” her aunt said, and Aline nodded, boarding the train.

  “I will, and I’ll write just as soon as we arrive in Lakestone,” Aline said. The train whistle sounded and the doors were slammed shut.

  She pulled down the window, waving frantically to her aunt as the train pulled out of the station. “Goodbye, and God bless,” she called.

  Her aunt stood waving on the platform. “Goodbye, Aline and don’t look back,” she called out, before the plumes of steam and smoke from engine obscured her from view.

  “Well, Sammy, it’s just you and me, now,” Aline said, struggling through the crowded carriage to find her seat.

  Lakestone awaited them.

  ***

  The journey west was long and uncomfortable. Aline hadn’t had the money for anything better than the standard fare, but her fellow passengers were friendly enough and she soon got talking to all manner of folks heading west for all manner of reasons.

  There was a family who intended to seek their fortune in the gold mines of Oregon and a couple of sweethearts whose marriage had been frowned on back home, and who had used the last of their savings to buy land in Idaho. She was sat next to a man who had lost an eye in the Civil War and was on his way to visit his son, who owned a ranch some fifty miles further on from Lakestone. Opposite her was a woman who’d lost her only child and was heading west to try and find happiness again.

  “And what about you, dear?” she asked as night fell and the train came to a halt.

  “Oh… I’m, we’re…” Aline began, pointing down at Sammy, “we’re making a new start, too. Forget the past, that’s what my aunt told me to do and that’s what we’re doing.”

  “Your aunt sounds like a wise woman, dear. There’s nothing you can do to change the past, but there’s a lot you can do to change the future. Good luck to you,” the woman replied, and the car settled down to sleep.

  The bare boards were uncomfortable and the snoring around her meant the prospect of unbroken sleep appeared slim. But Aline couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what lay ahead. The woman was right: the future was a far better place to look than the past.

  We’ll be all right, Sammy, Aline whispered, her finger stroking the cat’s neck through his basket. I’m sure of it.

  ***

  “Lakestone, the next stop is Lakestone, Montana. Anyone alighting for Lakestone, make ready to depart,” came the cry.

  Aline had been traveling on the train for four days and despite the friendliness of her fellow travelers, with whom she’d shared much laughter and story, she was ready to disembark. The carriage was uncomfortable, and oppressive in the heat of the summer’s day. The food had been questionable and she’d barely slept a wink. She glanced out of the window, across the long prairie grass which seemed to stretch endlessly before her to the horizon.

  It sure is a beautiful place, she thought, wondering too just what the ranch her father had bought all those years ago might be like. And what am I even going to grow?

  She’d thought little of the practicalities of her new life, and now that Lakestone station was coming into view, a sudden surge of panic ran through her. This was it—she was here in Montana, her new home, and she’d no idea what would happen next.

  But her aunt wouldn’t have suggested she come here if she didn’t believe in her. Aline took a deep breath, repeating her aunt’s words to herself and beginning to gather up her things.

  “Good luck to you, Aline, dear,” the woman opposite said, and she smiled.

  “And to you, too,” she replied as the train chugged to a halt.

  “Lakestone station, Montana. Anyone for Lakestone, Montana?” came the call and Aline hurried to the carriage door, where she disembarked with some difficulty.

  One of the stewards took her bags from the luggage car and a few moments later, Aline
was left alone on the platform. It was quite different to the one she’d boarded from in her home town in Massachusetts. There was no hustle and bustle here, no well-dressed ladies and dandy gentleman, or the shouts of excited children. Lakestone station was quiet, hardly a station at all but a short set of boards laid out as a platform, around which the prairie grass blew gently in the breeze.

  She glanced around her, looking for someone to help her with her bags. Lakestone Station was on the edge of the town, and a dusty street wound its way into the town behind her. The buildings were all of wooden planks and she could see a little mission church and schoolhouse out to her right.

  “We’re not in Massachusetts now, Sammy,” she said, sighing to herself and looking down at the cat in his basket. In response, Sammy let out a shrill meow.

  Chapter Four

  “There now, Sheriff, a nice breakfast to set you up for your day,” Lita Morrell said, laying a plate of eggs and sausages in front of Thomas.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Morrell, I think I’ll need it today,” Thomas said, glancing down at the copy of the Lakestone Chronicle before him.

  The headline read “Bandit Terror in Lakestone,” and Thomas was due for a meeting with the town’s mayor that morning to discuss his handling of the crisis.

  “You can’t help it if these outlaws are riding rough shod across the county, Sheriff,” his landlady said, reading over his shoulder.

  “No, but the buck stops with me, Mrs. Morrell—and the truth is, I’m stumped as to who’s behind it all,” Thomas replied as he began to eat.

  “You’ll catch them, Sheriff. You always do,” she replied, bustling out of the little dining room, which also served as front parlor of the boarding house where Thomas had lodged since his arrival in Lakestone.

  It was a comfortable little boarding house and Mrs. Morrell only took in those she considered of the right sort. At that moment, she’d a man from Proctor’s Bank and a teacher who had arrived only two months previously. The house was quiet, the meals were excellent and his hostess genial, all factors which ensured that Thomas had always felt right at home with Lita Morrell.

  What’ll Sheriff Redmond do to protect the good folks of Lakestone from this terror? Thomas read, and he cast the paper aside. I’m doing my best, he thought in response.

  When he’d finished his breakfast and made himself fully presentable for the day, he headed out onto the street, which mercifully was quiet. News had spread quickly over the death of Jeremiah Banks and there was an air of tension about the town, which was far quieter than usual for a weekday morning.

  Thomas paused, looking up and down the street and wondering what fresh trouble the day might bring. He’d been issued with a summons to the mayor’s office late that night and was due there at ten o’clock, which gave him just enough time to see whether Deputy John Hoskins had learned anything further during the night.

  ***

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” the deputy said as Thomas pushed open the door to the sheriff’s office.

  “Any news?” Thomas asked, and the deputy shook his head.

  “Nothing, but that’s what they say, isn’t it? No news is good news,” John replied.

  “The news that these men have been caught would be better news. Anyway, I’m due at the mayor’s office shortly, do you mind staying around a while, just until I get back?” Thomas asked.

  “So long as I still have my night off, Sheriff. Outlaws or not, I’m taking Susan Ford out tonight and that’s final,” the deputy said, and Thomas laughed.

  “Given your luck with women in the past, John, I’m not expecting you to take any more time off,” Thomas replied and the deputy blushed.

  “At least I try, Sheriff. When was the last time you ever took a girl out? I’ve never known you court the attentions of a woman in the five years since I met you,” he replied.

  And you won’t do, Thomas thought to himself.

  As sheriff, he’d never thought it right to seek the company of women in Lakestone. He had a responsibility to all the town, and it wouldn’t do to become involved with one woman and the family connections it would entail. He was quite happy to keep himself to himself and let John Hoskins be the one to court their attentions.

  “You just stay here whilst I’m with the mayor, then you can go and spruce yourself up for Susan Ford,” Thomas replied.

  “Spruce up? Won’t I do?” The deputy sounded a little pained.

  Thomas just shook his head and made his way out from the sheriff’s office and onto the street. A few of the town’s folk nodded to him as he passed, for Thomas was well-liked and respected. He’d always done a good job as sheriff of Lakestone, but this business with the outlaws had got him stumped.

  Dear Lord, I just hope it’s not him, he thought as the image of Harrison flashed for the hundredth time through his mind.

  He could just picture his brother taking up their old ways again, the ghost of their father still haunting them.

  The mayor’s office was the only stone-built place in town. As Thomas approached, he hoped the mayor was in a favorable mood, but by the sounds of his summons—which had arrived at the boarding house late last night—he was not.

  Mayor Gould, Ralph to his friends, of which Thomas was most definitely not, had been mayor of Lakestone for the past eight years. He was relatively young, but possessed of a large belly and a red face, the result of over-indulgence. He maintained his office as though the finances of Lakestone were bottomless, and over the years he and Thomas had clashed repeatedly over what the sheriff saw as dubious spending decisions.

  “The mayor is waiting for you, Sheriff,” his secretary said, ushering him inside.

  The ante room was well-appointed with colonial-style furniture. A large portrait of Ralph Gould hung above the fireplace, which was framed on either side by two large aspidistra plants, wilting in the heat of the day.

  Thomas nodded as she knocked on the door to the mayor’s study, from which there came an angry reply.

  “Send him in, Carrie, I’m waiting for him,” the mayor shouted, and the secretary opened the door.

  “Good morning, Mr. Mayor,” Thomas said, doing his best to disguise his dislike of the unpleasant man sat behind the desk in front of him.

  “I’ll get to the point, Sheriff. These outlaws are getting out of control. What are you doing to stop them? Three separate incidents, two in the same place, and now a man is dead—a foreman, no less,” the mayor barked, his face growing redder and angrier as he fixed Thomas with a fierce expression.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Mayor. The murder of Mr. Banks happened only yesterday, I’m just starting my investigation. Jeremiah was a friend of mine and I assure you that I’ll find those responsible,” Thomas replied.

  “Five folk I’ve had in here already this morning, five. They’re scared it’ll be their ranch next, or that something’ll happen to their family on the trail. Now, what’re you going to do about it?” the mayor said, banging his fist down hard upon his desk.

  “I… I’ll find who’s responsible, I promise, but summoning me here like this isn’t going to help, Mr. Mayor,” Thomas replied, for he was not going to be browbeaten by a man who, in Thomas’ opinion, spent his days in corruption, growing fatter behind his desk as the good folks of Lakestone endured his overbearing ways.

  “I’ll summon you if I wish. And I expect you to find these men as soon as possible, or we may be looking for a new sheriff,” the mayor replied, and once more he banged his fist down upon the desk, a sign which Thomas took that he was dismissed.

  They’d be better off looking for a new mayor, he thought, turning on his heel and marching out of the mayor’s study.

  Out on the street, he paused and sighed. It was hardly the conflict he needed right now, not when the townsfolk were scared and he had outlaws to catch.

  I’ll find them and if it’s Harrison, he’ll get no mercy from me, Thomas promised himself as he began to walk slowly back to the sheriff’s office.

 
; His mind was filled with thoughts of the outlaws and he wondered when they would strike again, for it was certain that they would. They’d be lying low somewhere, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting wagon train, or scouting out one of the remote ranches which lay along the trail, waiting for their chance to strike.

  And it’ll be you who gets the blame, Thomas, he realized, shaking his head.

  “Excuse me, could you help me, please?” A voice came from his side.

  He was just by the railroad station, a train puffing its way off into the horizon beyond. He looked up at the sound of the voice to find himself face to face with a young woman. She couldn’t have been more than twenty or so years old. A pretty little thing, or so he thought. But it was her eyes which caused him to stare, sapphire blue and twinkling, as she smiled at him.