The Cattleman's Bride: A Golden Valley Story (The Brides of Birch Creek Book 4)

by Laura D. Bastian

  “I’ll be with you in a moment,” a woman’s voice said.

  “All right.” Levi’s eyes widened a bit. He was certain that wasn’t Cora’s voice. Levi looked around the room for a clue to where his wife was.

  “Levi, is that you?” Cora’s voice said from inside a room to the side.

  “Yes,” Levi said. “I’m here.”

  “I’ll be right out,” Cora said. The excitement in her voice tugged at his heart, giving him a sense of anticipation.

  A stately woman left the back room and moved forward to meet him. “I’m Dr. Mills. I’ve just been talking with your wife, Mr. Finch.”

  She held out her hand and Levi paused for only a second before extending his to shake it.

  “How is she?” Levi asked.

  Dr. Mills smiled. “I’ll let her answer that.” She stepped to her desk and opened a book then began to write some notes in it.

  “Levi!” Cora said, her eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. At first, his heart dropped with disappointment, until he saw the brightness inside her eyes and noticed the giant smile on her face.

  “Is it true?” Levi asked.

  Cora ran into his arms and hugged him tight. “It’s true,” she whispered. “You’re gonna be a papa. And I’ll get to be a mother.”

  Levi hadn’t thought his heart could feel any more love than he had for Cora, but the thought of welcoming a child into their home made it swell to where he thought he might burst from joy.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at

  The Sheriff’s Bride.

  Brides of Birch Creek

  Book 5

  ***

  Chapter One

  Beatrice adjusted her corset as best she could as she sat in the stage coach that bounced across each and every rock and rut in the dusty road. She’d been in the coach for more than an hour, and it seemed as if the ride would never end. She had started the journey with four other people, but at the previous outpost the other passengers had met their family and Beatrice had continued on by herself toward Birch Creek.

  At least since she was the only one in the carriage, she could make the adjustments for comfort without anyone judging her for her slightest move. After a quick unbuttoning of her outer jacket, she pulled out the wallet that had been her father’s and double checked that the money for her future was still there. Her father’s friend had insisted she keep the money on her person at all times and never let anyone know how much was there. She had a small satchel with some coins and smaller bills in order to pay for her traveling expenses, but the money in her hand was for something important.

  Mr. Carson had done his best to dissuade her from her plans by telling her of all the lawlessness she would find in the west. His alternate suggestions of remaining in New Jersey and finding a nice man to marry was rebuffed as firmly and as politely as she could. When Mr. Carson finally accepted that he could not change her mind, he had reluctantly wished her well and done everything he could to make sure she would have the things she needed to begin a life out west.

  Beatrice placed the long flat wallet back against her side under her arm and pulled the strings of the corset. She gave a few gentle tugs on the cloth that had bunched up around the ribcage, then redid the outer bodice and checked to make sure she was properly covered. If she wasn’t trying to make a good first impression when she arrived in her new home, she wouldn’t have even used the corset. But she would need to do everything she could to make sure the people of Birch Creek saw her as a respectable woman. She would be watched for the slightest mistake and though she should be used to it by now, it had always bothered her to be under such close scrutiny.

  No matter how good she was, it was never enough. With her father gone, he couldn’t use his influence to stop the talk from others. She had hated thinking that he fought some of her battles, but it was impossible to deny that his respect and money had gone a long way toward soothing the outrage and disdain that had come from the fact she was a female doctor. Not even two weeks after his passing, she’d been asked, not kindly either, to leave the hospital she’d trained at and had done so much good in.

  Now she was basically running to a small town in the wilds of Idaho where her second cousin, Grace, had moved to work as a cook and cleaner. Poor girl hadn’t been there long before she ended up marrying a man with three small children.

  Beatrice still couldn’t believe Grace had agreed to something like that. No matter how much Grace had loved caring for her her brother’s children, becoming an instant mother was insane. Grace should have stayed in New York and worked there, or even come to New Jersey to stay with Beatrice and her father.

  Of course, that wouldn’t have helped her now anyway. The unfairness of it all still rankled. Just because she had been born a woman didn’t mean she lacked the intelligence and the ability to do good for human kind. And not every woman wanted to become a mother or housekeeper. Not that she hated men as a gender. They weren’t all bad, just the ones who thought they were better than everyone else.

  Unfortunately, in most of her experience, she would have to place a large percentage of the other sex in the category of know-it-all.

  Grace had indicated that there was a great need for medical knowledge out here, so perhaps they wouldn’t be so prejudice against a woman doctor. Beatrice could hope, but until she reached Birch Creek and looked into a place to have her clinic, she wouldn’t know.

  A crack of thunder startled her, and she turned to look out the window at the clear sky.

  What in the world?

  A strange dust cloud rose up from the ground and Beatrice tried to make sense of it all. The horses whinnied in fear and the stage coach driver shouted at them to move just before he shouted back to her.

  “Hold on to something. We’ve got robbers on our tail.”

  Beatrice poked her head out the window to look behind them and immediately pulled her head back in when she saw four horses behind them. It had been the shot of a rifle!

  They were still at a distance but looked as if they’d catch up quick enough. She had nothing with her that could be used to defend herself. Not unless she counted her doctor tools. She had a few bone saws and scalpels in one of her trunks, but they would do her no good unless she was in close contact with an attacker. And she had made a vow to do no harm. She couldn’t imagine taking the life of someone when all she’d ever wanted to do was help people heal and be better.

  The crack of another rifle shot split the air, this time it was much closer than before.

  “Why are they after us?” Beatrice shouted to the driver.

  “They want anything valuable!” the driver shouted back. “If they get us, you’ll want to just give them what they want. Best to not fight and they’ll usually leave you alive.”

  The thought of giving in grated against her. She didn’t want to fight them and risk injury or death, but she didn’t want to give up everything she owned. She needed her tools, books, and the money to start a small clinic.

  The rumble of galloping horses got closer and closer and soon two horses passed the carriage and shouts from the men on those horses told the driver to stop or be shot. The carriage jolted and Beatrice was thrown off balance and ended up on her knees between the two seats. She scrambled for balance and leaned against one of the seats as the carriage came to a stop.

  Two other horses galloped up to the stage coach and shouted for anyone inside to put hands in the air. Beatrice did as she was told and when the door was thrown open she stared into the eyes of a man in a dirty hat with a bandanna across his lower face.

  “Get out of the carriage,” the man shouted at her. “Who else is in there?”

  “No one,” Beatrice said. “The others got off at the last stop.”

  From behind, one of the other men, a big guy with long hair cussed angrily and Dirty Hat in front of her growled.

  “What do you have?” Dirty Hat said, pointing his pistol straight at her chest. “Jewelry? Money? Give me all of it.” />
  Beatrice had a locket around her neck that wasn’t overly valuable. Just sentimental because of her parent’s pictures contained inside. She had one ring, also her mothers, and she hated the thought of losing them. But she didn’t relish the thought of being shot over them.

  With shaking fingers, she reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace, then pulled off her glove and tugged at the ring on her finger.

  “Hurry,” Long Hair shouted and snatched them out of her hands the moment the ring was off her finger.

  “Now, your money,” Dirty Hat demanded.

  She pulled out the small coin purse and handed it over, but Dirty Hat didn’t seem satisfied with that.

  “Where’s the rest of it?”

  “I don’t have any more,” Beatrice said. She could get away with pretending to be some poor relative coming to visit her family or better yet… “I’m only traveling out west because my parents are gone and I’ve answered an advertisement to become a farmer’s bride.”

  A thud from behind made Beatrice turn around in time to see her travel case thrown from the storage section of the coach. The top broke and some of her clothing and books fell into the dirt.

  “No!” she gasped as one of the men, younger looking that the other two, started throwing things out of the case. Her books, the precious medical information she’d need access to, lay haphazardly in the dirt. A few pages came loose and skittered away in the breeze.

  “What’s this?” Dirty Hat said, pulling her doctor bag from inside the carriage.

  “Don’t touch those!” Beatrice shouted, then immediately stumbled to the side, nearly dropping to the ground when Long Hair slapped her.

  “Keep quiet, woman!”

  Beatrice fumed inside. If she lost her tools, she wouldn’t be very successful in starting up a practice in Birch Creek. Not unless she could order more, but if these men learned she had her money under her bodice, she’d lose even that chance.

  “Got the driver’s wallet,” the fourth man shouted from horseback where he still remained pointing his pistol at the driver. “Grab your things and let’s go!”

  Long Hair stomped toward her and Beatrice backed up in fear from the look in his eyes.

  “Think I’ll take her with,” Long Hair said.

  “Don’t have time for that,” Dirty Hat said.

  “I’ll just throw her over the front of my saddle. She won’t be any trouble there.”

  The younger one laughed and as he mounted his horse he said, “Then when you get tired of her, I’ll take her.”

  Long Hair laughed. “Think she’d skin you alive. But she’ll be just right for me.” He grabbed for her and Beatrice screamed and hit him as hard as she could before feeling the same kind of blow he’d given her moments ago. “I’ll show her who’s boss.”

  He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed and hit him, yanking his hair as hard as she could and clawing at his neck. He punched her in the back, right below her kidney and she grunted in pain and nearly lost consciousness.

  Dirty Hat laughed. “Looks like she’ll try to skin you, too. Better drop her and we’ll just take our stuff and go.”

  “Not happening,” Long Hair said. “She owes me now.”

  A rifle crack from behind her rang out and hit a patch of dirt not far from where the man still on the horse sat. Long Hair threw her to the ground at the same time Dirty Hat and the other two shouted. “Sheriff!”

  They mounted and kicked their horses to a gallop, leaving Beatrice gasping on the ground. The coach driver bent down and pulled out a rifle from under his seat. He braced it as he took aim and fired at the robbers at the same time another shot from behind rang out.

  The coach horses skittered with nerves, but didn’t race off and Beatrice scrambled to her feet. She turned to see two men on horseback racing toward them. At first, she worried it might be more robbers, but they looked to be much cleaner and more impressive than the ones that had just accosted her.

  Neither of the men slowed down, just glanced at her and the coach driver before racing on in pursuit of the bandits. A second shot from the rifle in the driver’s hands blast out and Beatrice squealed in shock. What was he thinking to be shooting as the sheriff and his partner raced past?

  The driver put his rifle down and climbed off the coach then checked her and hurried to pick up anything that might still be there after the bandits had gone. “We need to move.”

  Beatrice forced herself to help, her body shaking so hard she worried she might not be able to walk straight or even manage to pick up anything. With a strange detachment, she realized deep in her inner brain that she was most likely going through a traumatic shock to her system.

  She dropped her books a few times, then finally managed to get herself under control and picked them up with an inner command that sounded a lot like how her father would have spoken.

  The driver hefted the trunk onto the back, and did his best to strap it back down.

  “Do you need help into the coach?” he asked.

  Beatrice shook her head and climbed in then shut the door just before the driver gave a command to the horses and the carriage was on its way again.

  She looked out the window, surprised they were moving forward. And the driver made no attempt to turn around and go back to where they’d stopped at the last station. It was probably best to move on. And with the sheriff and his partner after the wicked men, she didn’t imagine they would be bothered by them again.

  She buried her face in her hands. She’d lost her physicians bag and the needed tools for working with minor ailments and surgeries. She could order more, thank heavens, but it would set her back and she had hoped to use all the money in buying a place to house her practice.

  The anger of being robbed helped her not focus on what might have happened to her person if the sheriff hadn’t arrived when he had.

  She prayed the lawmen could take care of those stains on society quickly and completely so no one else would have to deal with anything similar.

  ***

  Elias Mills, Sheriff of Birch Creek, had only been on the job for a few months and had already had to deal with two feuds between competing land owners claiming the same portion of land, helping a cattleman get his stolen herd back, tracking down a bank robber, and now he was after the group of ruffians that had started plaguing the valley a few weeks back.

  He’d only been able to convince Samuel Hicks to become his deputy four days ago and now they were chasing the bandits and being shot at from horseback.

  Elias wondered if he should have just gone with his brother to California as he chased the dream of finding gold.

  One of the four men ahead of them had been hit in the shoulder by the stage coach driver moments after they had passed the coach, yet the thief hadn’t lost his seat yet.

  It was obvious he was slowing down, and Elias held his pistol ready just in case the man decided to slow enough to get off a shot with any accuracy.

  Two of the others had kept riding hard and turned to fire behind them, and though it was always a sobering thought, it was unlikely to hit either him or Samuel. Not without a lot of luck for the shooter.

  The man in second position seemed to be holding something bulky and Elias wasn’t surprised when the bundle was thrown to the side to allow the thief to flee faster.

  Of course, that also allowed him to turn and fire with a pistol and as the man turned, Elias felt the instinct to duck and tilt to the side.

  The slam of a bullet into his shoulder was definitely not expected, but thankfully not enough to knock him off the horse. He debated for a moment on continuing on, but one glance at his shoulder told him he’d not make it far and he eased up on the horse.

  With one last attempt to make a difference, Elias pulled the horse to a halt and yanked his rifle out of the holster on the horse. With the adrenaline still pumping, he managed to steady the gun with his left arm and took aim the best he could. He fired the rifle and whe
n the bullet struck the horse of the third rider, Elias felt the incredible guilt of injuring the animal.

  The horse went down and the man riding it was thrown. The other three raced off without a hint of wanting to help their fallen companion.

  Elias waved his deputy on when the man looked back to see he’d stopped. Samuel continued on and stopped over the man that had been thrown. The thief had only tried to stand once, but immediately collapsed back to the ground.

  Probably a broken leg, Elias thought.

  Samuel jumped off his horse with his pistol drawn and took the weapon from the fallen man then checked the injured horse quickly. When the next shot was fired, Elias felt even worse for the damage done. The poor animal didn’t deserve to suffer because of the man who rode him.

  Elias put his rifle back in the holster then pulled out his handkerchief and shoved it against his shoulder under his coat. His hand came out covered in blood and he growled to himself.

  When Samuel approached he shook his head. “That looks bad.”

  “Feels worse,” Elias grunted.

  “Let me look at it.”

  “We just need to ride to the nearest town. See if someone can dig this bullet out.”

  “Still in there?” Samuel asked, taking his horse around Elias and looking at him from behind.

  “Think so.” Elias put more pressure on his shoulder knowing it was important to slow the bleeding, but with the chase over, the waning adrenaline was replaced with exhaustion and pain.

  “How hard can you ride?” Samuel asked.

  “Guess we’ll find out.”

  “Hang on,” Samuel said. “Something’s coming. Wagon I think. No wait. That’s the coach that was robbed.”

  “Go check on them,” Elias said, looking for something else he could use to staunch the flow.

  Samuel kicked his horse forward and Elias watched for a bit as the coached slowed to a stop for a moment, then Samuel turned the horse and headed to pick up the bundle that had been thrown earlier while the coach headed straight to him.