A Bride for the Sheriff Read online

Jackson considered the proposition for a moment, but then thought he found a way out. “Where will you find such a woman? The female population out here is so low. You’ve already gone through them all.” He was more amused at his sister’s scheme than annoyed.

  His comment gave her pause for thought, but soon, her eyes lit up and she smirked knowingly. “Well, then. I guess I’ll just have to broaden my search, won’t I?”

  “You don’t mean…” Fear gripped the back of his throat. She wouldn’t, would she?

  “I surely do. If a mail-order bride was good enough for my Theodore, then, my dear brother, it is certainly good enough for you.”

  3

  Charlie woke the next morning with an ache in her back and a crick in her neck. Her eyes felt swollen and her tongue was dry. As the sun slanted through the blinds and stirred her from her sleep, she pushed herself out of bed and forced her feet out from under the warm covers. Even though it was already May, mornings were still chilly and she winced slightly as her feet hit the cold wooden planks of her bedroom floor.

  Momentarily, she wondered why she felt so bad, but then the events of the previous day came rushing back in a tidal wave of emotions. Of course she understood what her parents had done and why, but it didn’t stop her from feeling betrayed. They hadn’t even consulted her on the matter. They’d just gone ahead and…the tears that had been her companions through the long night and into the early morning threatened to make a reappearance, but she blinked rapidly, forcing them away.

  Throwing on her housecoat, she stumbled over to the wash basin and leaned over the table to peer at her reflection in the small mirror. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were indeed swollen and red. In an effort to look less frightening, she splashed some frigid water on her face, gasping as she did so.

  After a few minutes, her mirror told her that she looked more acceptable, so she dressed quickly in some warm clothes and headed downstairs. The familiar scent of fresh bread greeted her long before she reached the bottom of the stairs and a wave of sadness washed over her. Blinking her eyes rapidly to prevent any lingering tears from appearing, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself before entering the large kitchen.

  “Good morning,” her parents greeted simultaneously. Although the greeting was pleasant and light, she could see concern shining out of their eyes. Dinner had passed peacefully enough the night before, but her taciturn behavior had obviously caused them to worry.

  “Good morning,” she returned perfunctorily and walked over to the large counter where several loaves of bread were waiting to be wrapped. Her parents woke early to do the first round of baking, and then she baked through the rest of the morning while they managed the front. Her specialties were cakes, cookies and other sweets while her parents excelled at various types of bread. She touched a few loaves and since they were still hot, went over to the stove to start breakfast. It was Tuesday, so she would make a stack of pancakes and some bacon.

  “Did you sleep well?” her mom enquired gently. It was clear that she didn’t want to be intrusive, but needed to express her concern.

  Charlie shrugged half-heartedly. “I guess so. It was hard to have a deep sleep with so many thoughts running through my mind.”

  Her father grunted slightly. “I think that Peter might make you an offer if you told him about our plans. He’s a nice boy from a good family. You could certainly do worse.”

  Her parents’ approval of Peter never wavered. They thought the world of him and never let an opportunity to praise him slip by. In truth, part of the reason she kept going out with him was to please the two people in the world that she loved and admired most. She wasn’t even too sure how much she actually cared for him.

  The morning slipped by for Charlie in a blur of baking. When she popped into the front from time to time, she smiled and greeted the regulars with great respect and courtesy, but she would be hard-pressed to recount any specific conversation except for one. Everything ran together in a blur. By noon, she felt as though she’d worked a full day.

  Peter had stopped by early in a high state of excitement. He cornered her and said that he needed to discuss something of great importance. The bakery had been rather busy at that point, so she told him to come back around four o’clock. Now, it was ten minutes before. As she stared at the clock, a knot formed in her stomach and sweat trickled down her back. The air became stifling and she excused herself from the store.

  Out in the street, Charlie paced back and forth, anxiously waiting for Peter, but all the while wishing that he wouldn’t show. Was he going to propose? But she hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about the bakery being sold. In any case, would she accept him? Was her whole future going to be decided over the next twenty minutes or less?

  Her breath whooshed out of her lungs as she spotted him striding towards her, his long legs eating up the sidewalk. Whatever had pitched him into a frenzy before was still chasing him now.

  “Charlie!” he exclaimed with exuberance. “I know I’m a bit early, but can you talk? I need to you tell you something or I’ll explode!”

  His fair hair was swept off his forehead and his bright blue eyes sparkled, but she sensed that his news had nothing to do with her. He was looking at her, but not really seeing her.

  “Go on, then,” she said with curiosity. “What’s your news?”

  “You’ll never believe it! Yesterday, I met a man who’s going to California. He said that he owns a prime spot that was missed by the miners during the forties and fifties. All he needs are some strong workers and he asked me to go with him! I’m going to be rich!”

  Charlie’s head was spinning with the ludicrous information. “I’m sorry, what are you saying? You’re going to California to do what?”

  “Gold, Charlie, gold! This man, Mr. Carlson, says that his family owns a large stretch of land that was never mined. He couldn’t get out there before now for whatever reason, but now he’s anxious to go and will share the profits with whoever goes with him. Can you imagine? I’m going to cross the country! It’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Charlie took a few steps back and found the bench that was located outside the general store beside the bakery. Her knees buckled under her, whether from relief or anguish couldn’t be determined. She wasn’t the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to him. This opportunity was.

  “You’re leaving? Just like that? But what about…” She didn’t want to say it. The humiliation of his abandonment was more than she could bear. Still, she felt oddly unconcerned. Her questions were more for her parents’ benefit.

  “What? Oh…Charlie. Uh, well, you see…” His face lost its animated look as he gazed upon her upturned face. “Well, we’ve had some fun together, right? I don’t think we really thought it would go anywhere, did we? After all, if we were meant to be together, we should have known by now, right?”

  His awkward fumbling almost made her feel sorry for him. She nodded her head, more because that’s what she thought she should do. Truthfully, she realized that she didn’t want to marry him, but had been half-hoping that he might be the answer to the confusion she was now facing.

  “It’s okay, Peter,” she finally reassured him. “I can tell that it’s what you want, so I won’t make you feel bad about. Go and have your adventure and if you ever think of me, remember I want the best for you.”

  His face lit up again and he leaned over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the best, Charlie. Really the best. I’ll come back when I’m rich and then we’ll have some fun!”

  Those were the last words he said before he took off at a half-run down the street, presumably to pack for his great escapade. His enthusiasm was so evident that it was nearly tangible. Envy worked its way to the forefront of her mind and she let it romp there momentarily. Peter was going off to live out his dream while she was forced to watch hers crumble.

  At that moment, her father came out and saw her slumped down on the bench.

>   “Charlie!” he called as he approached. “Are you all right? What did Peter want?” His gaze travelled down the street where Peter’s retreating figure was still visible.

  “Nothing, Father. Nothing at all.” Strangely, she didn’t feel sad that the relationship had ended. Pushing her morose feelings away, she felt an odd sense of hope ignite in her own soul. If someone as shallow as Peter could find happiness, then so would she. She just had to keep her eyes open to the possibilities and be willing to take a risk.

  Something she’d noticed in the paper earlier rose to her mind and she wondered if that might be the place to start. Well, it was better than nothing and definitely worth a try.

  4

  “What about this one?” Margaret asked Jackson as they poured over the small pile of letters they’d picked up from the post office after dinner a few weeks later. “She’s pretty and sounds lively enough to keep you out of trouble.”

  Jackson took the picture from Margaret and made a small noise in his throat. “Well, she’s pretty alright, but maybe too good-looking for the likes of me.”

  He knew he was being hard to please, but something about picking a bride from a pile of pictures felt wrong to him. It seemed…demeaning, to both him and the girl. It felt a little like picking a horse up from an auction.

  “You know these girls want to come here,” his sister announced suddenly as though reading his mind. “They are competing for a chance to have a new life. Some of them are so desperate that I want to cry. There are orphans, widows, penniless young girls.” She waved her hand over the pile and frowned.

  “I see that,” he responded tiredly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “But if you’re serious about my courting a girl, it should be someone who is up for a challenge, not running away from a hardship. It should be someone who is excited to come, not someone who sees it as her last chance at a good life.”

  Margaret seemed to consider that before shoving another photo under his nose. “This girl looks as though she could take on the world, and she’s not desperate. She just wants adventure and excitement. She’s also independent and even sounds as though she has a bit of her own money. Her letter says that she can buy her own ticket.”

  “So what does she want to come out here for?” he asked skeptically. Slightly dazed by all the energy it’d taken to plow through the letters, he now took the photo and felt a pang in his chest. The girl’s eyes jumped out of the black and white likeness and seemed to be sharing a secret with him. Although her mouth was rather serious, he could feel life pulsing out of the picture. “Uh, what’s her name?” he rasped. The voice that came out of his mouth didn’t seem to be his own. He cleared his throat and asked again.

  Margaret looked at him smugly, but wisely said nothing. “Um, let me see. Oh, here. Read it for yourself.” She extended the missive and then went unnaturally still, but Jackson didn’t notice. He slowly took the letter and skimmed it.

  “Charlotte Henderson,” he murmured. “She certainly seems confident, doesn’t she?” It was such a banal comment for such a remarkable woman. The letter was written in a bold hand, but echoed of femininity.

  “And she likes baking,” Margaret put in cheerfully. To add a bit of levity, Margaret had written that good baking skills would be an asset to anyone responding to the advertisement. A few had professed a talent for baking, but this girl went on to list all the items that she enjoyed making. Margaret was rather impressed at the variety and then read that the girl’s parents had owned a bakery. “So, do you think you might send her a letter?” she asked lightly.

  “Hmm,” was his only response. He seemed not to hear her, but he took the letter with him when he rose and left the room. His eyes never left it as he appeared to be reading it for the second time.

  “Alright then,” she said with a smile. “Charlotte Henderson, I’m going to start praying right now that you are the answer to my prayers for my little brother. Please God, let her be the one.”

  Jackson felt himself drawn to not only the picture, but also the letter again and again over the next few hours. There was something about the cheerful way she’d written that made her letter stand out from the rest. All the others were depressing, but hers made him smile.

  He sat down at his desk and thought for a while. With no one in the jail cells, the place was quiet and he had ample time to think. What could he say to a stranger thousands of miles away? He put his pen to paper and found himself first responding to questions she’d posed in her letter. He mentioned a few facts about his job, and then asked a series of questions about her and her expectations. Before he quite knew what was happening, he’d filled an entire page.

  Slightly startled, he reviewed what he wrote and was surprisingly satisfied. It was a good, clear representation of himself and his life. Of course, he hadn’t revealed everything about his life and his past, but he’d written about his beliefs and everyday life.

  He pulled out one of the pictures that Margaret had forced him to sit for and put it, along with the letter, into an envelope and sealed it. He would post it first thing in the morning.

  A response came in the mail a few weeks later and Jackson found himself even more drawn to the young woman. After penning a quick response, he made the trip to the station and purchased a one-way ticket from New York to Bozeman. His heart thumped in his chest as he sealed the letter and the ticket in an envelope and posted it with a prayer. Although he felt slightly terrified, he also somehow felt God’s leading in all this. Margaret may have pushed him, but with the way he was feeling, it seemed as though God was leading.

  He made a quick calculation and determined that with the mail the way it was and the length of the journey included, it was altogether possible that he might see Charlotte Henderson before the end of summer.

  The thought both thrilled and alarmed him. What would he do if the girl travelled all this way and was hugely disappointed? What if he was? He didn’t know the protocol for all this and Theodore, despite his own experience, hadn’t been much help. He’d merely said that if it was meant to work out, it would.

  He found himself wanting that more than anything.

  How strange, he thought, that a man could go from one end of the spectrum to the other in less than two months. Back in May, he was determined to remain a bachelor for all of his days, but now he wanted nothing more than to meet Charlotte, or Charlie as she’d signed her last letter, and find the peace and joy that he’d seen in his sister’s marriage.

  He only hoped that no one’s heart got broken in the process.

  Charlie sat on the train, her stomach in knots as she watched the flat landscape give way to snow-capped mountains and rugged peaks. The beauty of the scenery was only surpassed by the waves of doubt that washed over her.

  She fished out the two letters that she’d received from Jackson Davis along with his photograph. He really was a very attractive man. Even though it was just black and white, she could clearly see the warmth and humor in his light eyes in his picture. His hair was a little long, curled around his ears and pushed back off his forehead in a wave. The strong, somewhat square jaw line gave him a look of unwavering loyalty and strength. Goosebumps prickled her flesh as she focused on his gaze that seemed to be directed straight at her. Attraction would definitely not be an issue.

  The picture she’d sent had been a bit of a joke. The photographer had been amusing and she couldn’t hold back the mirth. It must have appealed to him because he’d chosen her as his future bride.

  Well, not exactly, but close enough.

  She opened the first letter and found the spot she was looking for.

  I would like to meet you. Would you come out and stay with my sister for a while so that we can get to know each other? From your letter, I feel we could be a good match, but the idea that a woman would travel across the country to marry a stranger right away doesn’t sit well with me. So please, say you’ll come out and we can see if we are suited.

  I should say that I felt a strong connec
tion to you when I read your letter and saw your picture. I don’t know if it’s God leading me or just my own wishful thinking, but I really think that we should meet.

  The words leaped off the page and she felt she could almost hear Jackson’s voice. She hoped it was deep and melodious. Not that it mattered precisely, but that was how she’d imagined it.

  Other thoughts pushed in and overshadowed these pleasant ones. What if he was horrible? He’d promised her a train ticket back if things didn’t work out, but she had to trust him for that. She had enough money to buy it herself, but it would eat up a large portion of the money that she had. Further to all this anxiety, there was the exchange she’d had with her parents. At first, they’d been devastated to find out what she’d done, but in the end, they let her go with a prayer and a blessing. It was hard to determine what had been worse, their outrage or their encouragement.

  There was nothing she could do about any of it at the moment. She leaned back against the upholstered seat and emitted a long sight. With the first-class ticket Jackson had sent, she travelled in relative luxury, but the trip had still been over a week long. She had only managed to sluice a bit of water over her face and neck during the trip and felt that the lavender perfume she’d dabbed on didn’t quite mask the smell of sweat. What had she been thinking to make this journey in August, the hottest month of the year?

  But of course, the fact that Mr. Johnson had taken over the bakery last month had served to push her out of the city. She couldn’t bear to see that man strutting around in the business that she had associated with her parents for so many years. She was right to leave. It was time.

  And yet, her instincts warred within her. Was she crazy to embark on such a journey? Other women had done so, but as far as she knew, they were terribly desperate. She had a home of sorts with her aunt and even a job if she wanted it, but the thought of working for Mr. Johnson left a bitter taste in her mouth. She hadn’t even considered the possibility.