"So, what did you have, anyway?"
"Must have been a full house, as cocky as he was." Ricardo folded his arms behind his head and waited for an answer.
All his chips collected, Noah shook his head. One by one, he flipped the cards over. "Actually, I only had two pair." He stood from the table and pushed his chair up. "Nice playing with you fellows, as always."
The table erupted into grumbling, but none as loud as Rod Emerson's. "You're the spawn of Sam Hill for sure, Sheriff. I had a straight flush!"
Noah chuckled as he walked away. "A good bluff is a powerful tool, gentlemen." While the other men continued to complain about the crushing defeat, he went to the bar to cash in his chips. Once he had the bills in his wallet and tucked away in his vest pocket, he headed for the door. There, he replaced his hat on his head, tipped it, and bid his companions a good evening.
The sun was hanging low in the sky, but it was still a good couple of hours until sunset. He thought of the bold declaration he'd made yesterday to Miss Valerie, and decided he'd pay her a visit. On a Tuesday evening, he knew he was likely to find her at the library. She was an avid reader, a trait he could appreciate in a woman. He'd had his share of encounters with empty-headed women, whose only intelligent thoughts involved how they should style their hair.
He headed up the walk spanning Founder's Avenue, until he came to the intersection of with Town Road. Passing the open doors of the Taylor Hotel, he crossed the road and entered the library, which sat on the opposite corner, facing south.
Inside, a few folks were milling about, searching the shelves for some volume or other. He scanned the space as he tucked his hat beneath his arm. In the sitting area near the door, a young woman sat, quietly reading to a small child perched on her lap. He smiled, thinking of how he'd like to see a similar scene taking place in his own home one day—his beautiful wife reading to his strapping young son.
He waved a greeting to the librarian, Miss Parker, and made his way toward the farthest shelf, which stood against the back wall. There, with her graceful hand extended toward a book that was much too high for her to reach, was the lovely Miss Valerie.
He was looking at her back, but he recognized her petite frame instantly. As he neared her, he took in the sight of her womanly shape, clad in a midnight blue skirt, soft blue blouse, and one of those tiny-netted hats she favored so much. Though she was dressed for modesty, as any proper lady of society would be, the clothes did little to obscure the shapely feminine curves of her body. The flare of her hips was like a siren's song to him, and it was all he could manage not to lick his lips as he entered her space.
As if sensing him there, she made a slow turn in his direction. Her eyes cast downward in a coy way that put fire in his blood, she acknowledged him. "Why, Sheriff. I didn't see you there. Hello."
He gazed down at her, and couldn't decide which trait was more bewitching—her play at being shy, the dark fan of lashes spanning her wide eyes, or the pert breasts on display beneath that demure ruffled blouse of hers. "Evenin' Miss Valerie. Seems you could use some assistance."
"I could." As she made the quiet admission, she finally looked up at him, her brown eyes connecting with his eyes. "I was reaching for that volume of love poems there. The one that says Browning on the spine." She pointed up to the book she wanted, extending a slender, long boned finger.
He let his gaze shift away from her long enough to locate the tome, then took it from the shelf. Holding it, he read the title aloud. "Sonnets from the Portuguese. Sounds interesting." He passed the book into her waiting hands.
She clasped it to her chest and gushed, "I've been waiting for the last person who checked it out to turn it in so I could read it. I hear it's quite a collection." The light in her eyes and the contentment in her voice conveyed her excitement at getting her hands on it.
While the way she held the book obscured his view of the swell of her chest, he loved the exuberance she displayed. It was akin to that which most women might display over a new dress or an expensive bauble. It pleased him to know Valerie's mind was likely as well-rounded as her figure.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?" He watched her face, waiting.
She shook her head. "No, I already have our book club selection to read aside from this one."
As she turned toward the desk where the librarian sat, he staid her with a light touch on the arm. "I know I was a bit crass yesterday, but I hope you understand that I mean to court you, if you'll have me."
The shy look that set him ablaze crossed her face again. Then she raised up on her toes, and beckoned him down with a finger. He stooped, and she cupped a hand to his ear. The words she whispered to him were as sweet as anything he'd ever heard in his life. "I'll have you, Sheriff." Her secret disclosed, she stepped back and walked away, gliding toward the librarian.
Feeling his lips stretch into a broad grin, he strolled to the doorway and took up a post there, leaning against the east wall while she made her transaction. He noticed the smiling and tittering she did with Miss Parker, and shook his head in amusement. Things like that were inherent to females regardless of age, at least as far as he could tell. As long as she was smiling, he was fine with it.
She left the desk and joined him by the door. Taking his offered arm, she smiled up at him.
"Shall we go?" He slipped his Stetson on.
"Surely."
With her arm linked in his, they stepped out onto the plank walk.
CHAPTER 5
Outside in the evening cool, Valerie relished the feeling of being on the arm of the handsome sheriff. He'd shown himself chivalrous in every way, from snatching her out of the path of Mayor Stern's careening carriage to fetching the book from a high shelf. Perhaps her mother had been right. So far, she saw absolutely no similarity between the sheriff and Rupert Barnes. Actually, there was really no comparison between the sheriff and any of the men she'd courted, or the scores who'd approached her only to be sent away.
They walked up Town Road, past Ruby's Diner, to a spot at the edge of town where festivals and other gatherings were often held. The open field had a few fully-grown weeping willow trees, under which picnic tables had been placed, to take advantage of the shade they provided. With the sun beginning its nightly descent, a good amount of light still remained. She looked out over the clearing, taking in the soft orange band of horizon, and relishing the feel of the cool breeze on her face.
He led her to the nearest picnic table and gestured to it. "Care to take a seat?"
"Thank you, Sheriff. " She sank down on the wooden slats of the seat, with her back to the table. The position allowed her the best view of the azure sky above.
"Call me Noah." He sat next to her, close enough for their thighs to touch. She felt the tingle of electricity that accompanied his touch, and her breath caught momentarily. He removed his hat, letting the full intensity of his gaze meet her own. "My, you truly are an innocent."
Knowing he'd heard her gasp, she could feel her face heating with embarrassment. "I am." Wanting to change the subject, she gestured to the book in her lap. "Would you care to read a bit from the book? I hear Sonnet forty-three has garnered Mrs. Browning a lot of praise."
He nodded, casting his gaze toward the skyline. "I've heard of it as well. It's been more than twenty years since she passed, but people still talk of that poem." To her surprise, he reached for the book. "Let's see what it's all about, shall we?"
Filled with wonderment, she watched him as he opened the volume to the proper page. As he began to read aloud, she could feel her heartbeat begin to race like a startled mare.
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee with the depth, and breadth, and height, my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight..."
The deep timbre of his voice, delivering the beautiful words that fairly dripped with affection, set off a reaction inside her that was like nothing she'd ever felt. She felt mesmerized, hypnotized, caught up in some mysterious magic that flowe
d only from him. Her pulse quickened, her mouth watered, and her hands trembled as if she were cold. In reality, she couldn't be farther from chilled—heat radiated through her as if hot coals had somehow taken up residence in her stomach. By the time he finished reading the poem, she was breathless, dazed, and dazzled.
He closed the book and set it on the table at their backs. "I can see why people like it so much. It is very nice."
'Very nice' didn't begin to describe what she'd just heard. Never before had she heard such beautiful, amorous words- especially not delivered by such an overwhelming man. Finding her voice again, she agreed. "Yes, it's very beautiful and expressive."
There in the growing shadows, she felt something pass between them, a feeling for which she had no name. Their eyes met, and her thumping heart grew so loud, she feared he could hear it.
"I know you like to read. What else do you like to do?" His voice broke into her trance.
"Well, I enjoy doing good works with the other ladies in he Society, taking walks by the stream, and corresponding with my cousins back East." She wondered if her list made her seem unexciting, but it was the truth. "What do you like to do?"
He leaned back, scratching his clean shaven chin. "When I'm not on duty, I take Justice for rides through the countryside, or play poker with a few other men. Sometimes I go fishing." He shrugged. "Guess we both lead pretty tame lives."
She laughed. "Not you. You're a gun-toting lawman, protecting a whole town full of innocents from whatever ill-willed miscreants might appear." She stared off toward the setting sun. "I'm just a woman, trying to make a difference in this world before I leave it."
"If you ask me, your desire to do good works is pretty honorable." He cleared his throat. "Most of the ladies I've known have been more concerned with gossip and fashion than caring for their fellow man."
That made her blush again; she could feel the blood rushing to fill her cheeks. "Thank you, Sheriff."
He waggled a finger at her. "Uh, uh, uh. It's Noah, remember?"
She smiled, and began to apologize.
But before she could set her lips in motion, a female scream pierced the air.
Leaping to his feet, Noah slapped on his Stetson and took off at a run. "Miss Valerie, I have to go!"
The words were shouted over his shoulder as he dashed across the clearing and down the road. Still shocked at their abrupt parting, all she could do was watch as he disappeared around the corner.
The scream sounded again, and this time, she recognized the voice.
It was Prissy.
Valerie jumped to her feet, snatched up the book and ran as fast as she could toward the sound.
CHAPTER 6
As Noah rounded the corner, he could see Prissy barreling down the road ahead of him, chasing after a man who was galloping away on horseback. "My purse! Damn it all, he's got my purse!"
Noah sped in her direction at full tilt, until he caught up with her. "Miss Parker, are you all right?"
"That miscreant snatched my purse!" She was stamping her foot and pointing toward the fleeing figure. "Mama's deposits for the week were in there!"
Noah groaned, and ran a hand over his forehead. By the time he mounted up and went after him, the varmint would be long gone. Aside from that, he'd need Greg to cover him so he could begin the pursuit.
He thought back to the other night, and the brazen riders who'd taken Henry Carl's stallions. That sparked a thought—could this bandit be one of the ones involved in the horse theft? He knew one way he could find out.
Touching the librarian's shoulder, he said, "You can file a report with me in a bit. Try to remember every detail you can. His face, his clothes, whatever you saw, alright?"
Her eyes full of tears, she nodded. "I should have gone on to the bank for Mama earlier in the day. Now I've lost her weeks' receipts."
He wished he had more time to comfort the sullen Miss Parker, but he needed to check something. Henry Carl had commissioned the blacksmith, Trenton Imes, create a very distinct horseshoe for his inventory. If his instinct was correct, he was about to find a clue that could lead to more information about the thief.
Valerie rounded the corner, huffing and puffing and holding up her skirt as she ran. "Prissy! Prissy, are you alright?" She slowed a bit before colliding with her friend, wrapping her arms around her.
He looked on, but only for a moment. Not only was Valerie generous in spirit, she was obviously a dedicated friend. He didn't have time to dwell on that now, so paced up the road, looking closely at the hoof prints left by the horse. Stooping down, he examined the front left hoof print in the clearest set he could locate. Sure enough, the initials "R.L."- Ridgeway Livery, and the small crescent moon Carl used on his signs was imprinted in the dirt.
Whoever had stolen Miss Parker's purse was the same person who'd stolen the stallions from Henry Carl, or at least in league with that person.
He stood up with a curse. For some reason or another, these brutes had decided to pick on the innocents of a quiet town. If he had anything to say about it, they would pay dearly for their bad judgment.
He went back to his office and saddled Justice, intent on riding out for Gregory. They needed to come up with some kind of crime prevention strategy, before this spree went any further.
**
At a back table in the diner, Valerie did her best to comfort Prissy. The day had been quite a roller-coaster from the festive spirit of Janice Smart's surprise birthday party, to the first time she spent alone with Noah, and now this—her sobbing friend laying on her shoulder.
Ruby, Prissy's mother, came out of the kitchen with a tray holding three steaming cups of tea. She sat them on the table, then took a seat across from the two younger women. "Prissy, it's alright. It's only money. I'm just so glad you weren't hurt."
Lifting her head and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Prissy took a mug of tea and sipped from it. "I know, Mama. I just can't believe things like this are happening in Ridgeway."
Valerie released a long pent-up sigh. "First the livery, now this."
Ruby sipped from her own mug. "Troubling times. We need to watch and pray."
Valerie looked out the window into darkness, wondering where Noah was. She'd seen him mount up and ride off, but there was no telling where he'd gone. The look on his face had been one of frustration, and she supposed he must have a great deal of inner strength to shoulder the burden of keeping the peace in Ridgeway at a time like this.
"Thinking about your sheriff?" Ruby viewed her with a knowing look.
"Does everyone in town know we're courting? It hasn't even been going on for a full day yet."
Ruby smiled. "Not everyone. Your mother told me, and I told Prissy."
She turned her eyes to Prissy, who was now somewhat composed. "Who did you tell?
"No one. The better question is, why didn't you tell me?" She jabbed her playfully with her elbow.
A chuckle escaped her. "Come on. Prissy. I only decided I'd entertain the idea last night, and only because Mama insisted."
Silence fell for a moment, then Ruby stood. "I need to get the kitchen cleaned up for the night. Are you going to be alright, baby?" She touched Prissy's cheek.
Prissy nodded. "I'm okay, Mama."
Seemingly satisfied, Ruby gathered her mug and returned to the kitchen, leaving them alone.
"What is Noah going to do about this? Will I get my purse back?" Prissy's eyes were fixed on the window, and she seemed to be thinking aloud.
"I haven’t' a clue." Valerie wished she could give her friend a better answer. "I can tell you that he will do something. Noah is an honorable man."
Prissy finished her tea in one long draw. "Well, after that ordeal, I'm exhausted. Walk me home?" She stood and pushed her chair beneath the table.
Valerie followed suit. "Sure. Then I'm going home myself. It's been quite a day."
They linked arms, and stepped out into the darkness together. At the corner, in front of the Taylor Hote
l, Valerie was surprised to see her father, sitting atop his parked buggy.
"Valerie!" he called out to her, gesturing her to come over.
She and Prissy approached the buggy. "Good evening, Mr. Ridgeway. What brings you out tonight?"
"I heard what happened, so I came out looking for Val. Now that I've found you both, would you like a ride home?"
"Yes, thank you." Prissy took Bernard's offered hand and climbed atop the wooden seat next to them, then helped Valerie up.
Bernard slapped the reins, and got the two horse team underway.
**
Blowing a thick ring of smoke into the air, Noah placed his cigar between his lips. It was after midnight, and he reclined behind the desk in his office, his feet propped up on the desk. Across the room from him, Greg was going on about the need for a full-time posse to protect the town.
"Like I said, we need about three other men, maybe four. That way we can work two to a shift. One can patrol while one stays here at the office." He paced the wooden floor as he spoke, his footsteps breaking the silence of the night.
Noah nodded his head as he took in another spicy draw from his cigar. "I agree with you. But I can just about guarantee you the mayor won't go for it."
Greg ceased his pacing long enough to stare at him. "Why not? It only make sense, with what's been happening around here lately."
"What makes sense isn't always what's best for a politician like Mayor Stern." Noah extinguished the cigar, dropping the butt in the wide, flat seashell he used as an ashtray. "He'd have to raise taxes to pay this posse, and that might cost him his seat come election time."
Scratching the freckled line of his jaw, Greg sighed. "You're right. Old Man Stern is never going to agree to this. So what do we do?"
Noah scratched his chin, trying to formulate a suitable solution to their problem. "The only thing I can think of is to get the citizens involved. You know, use the public outrage to our advantage and what not."
"That's actually a pretty good idea." Greg flopped down in the chair across the desk from him, where people usually sat to file their reports.
Loving the Lawman Page 4
