

## Loving the Lawman

### A Roses of Ridgeway Novella

Kianna Alexander

Copyright 2014 by Kianna Alexander

Smashwords Edition

Loving the Lawman

The Roses of Ridgeway, Volume Three

©Copyright 2014 Kianna Alexander

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental or used in a fictitious manner.

-Praise For Kianna Alexander-

"This book kept my interest until the very satisfying end... I would definitely read another book by this author."

\- Jaye Leyel of The Romance Studio, on Skye's the Limit

*read the full review  here*

"...an endearing novel that captures the era in which it is set."

-Susan Plummer of Romance in Color, on Freedom's Embrace

*read the full review  here*

"It was a great read! I plan to read all of the other books by this writer as well and can't wait! "

-L. Carter on The Preacher's Paramour

"Alexander's absorbing and gripping stories deserve more than just a brief foray into the past."

-P.G. Huguley on Freedom's Embrace

## Dedication

For Mr. Wendell Tabb, long time drama teacher at Hillside High School in Durham, North Carolina- the first teacher to recognize and nurture the writer in me.

# PROLOGUE

Ridgeway, California

January, 1880

Under cover of the early morning darkness, Valerie Ridgeway slipped out of the rear door of the apartment above mercantile and headed toward Doc Wilkins' clinic. He never saw patients this early, but for an extra double eagle, he'd made an exception for her. She hated going for her examinations, but after weeks of dealing with cramps so strong they left her weak and breathless, she had no other option.

In case any of the early risers among the townsfolk might see her, she'd donned a bonnet and wrapped a silk scarf around the lower half of her face. She didn't want to be seen visiting the doctor at this hour, lest she be accused of some scandalous deed by the gossips. The last thing she needed was for folks to think she was trying to conceal an illicit pregnancy, or carrying on a torrid affair with the aged doctor.

Approaching the clinic's rear door, she rapped on it softly, not wanting to call attention to herself. She waited a few moments, afraid he hadn't heard her. As she raised her hand to knock again, Doc Wilkins opened the door, holding a lantern. Though the hour was early, he was dressed in his fine wool slacks and black medical coat. "Come in."

He stepped back to allow her entry, and they went to the examination room, where he took a seat on a chair. He placed the lantern on the small table next to him, turning the light up to its full glow. Gesturing for her to sit on the tall cot in the center of the room, he pulled a small pad and leaded pencil from an inner pocket of his jacket. "Tell me your symptoms in as much detail as you can, Miss Ridgeway."

Unwrapping the scarf so he could hear her, she sighed. "Well, I've been having pains in my gut for about three weeks now. Strong, cramping pains. And my courses are very unpredictable. The flow seems to be spotty here and there, and then it increases for an entire week to the point that I can't seem to keep enough cloths on hand."

Doc Wilkins scribbled on the pad in the lantern light, nodding his head. "Are you having your courses right now?"

She shook her head. "Mercifully, the flow has stopped for a few days."

He put his pad down and stood. "That's fortunate, because I need to examine you right away."

She balked. "Right now? What do you think is wrong with me?"

"I can't be sure without examining you, but from the symptoms you mentioned, it could really be quite serious."

Her breath caught in her throat. She was young, only twenty-four, and considered herself healthy before these blasted pains had begun. Now, there was no telling what was going on inside her body. Resigned, she nodded. "Alright then."

Doc Wilkins clasped his hands in front of him. "Good. I'll leave you to undress, and I'll return shortly." He opened a tall oak wardrobe and brought out a muslin gown for her to put on, then slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As she got out of her skirt, blouse, slip, and underthings, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't uncomfortable with Doc Wilkins, as he'd cared for her since she was a child. What bothered her now was the worry of what he might find when he examined her. Slipping into the gown, she sat on the cot and waited for his return.

He tapped on the door moments later. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He entered with two more lamps in hand, which he positioned around the room. Turning each up until the glow lit entire room, he went to the basin to wash his hands. With that done, he handed her a sheet. "Lie down, and cover your lower half with this."

She did as he asked as he moved about the room, gathering his supplies. When he was done, he took a seat on a low stool and pulled it up to the end of the cot. "I'm going to examine you now. I'll try to be as gentle as possible."

"Thank you."

For the next several minutes, the doctor examined her internally and externally, finishing by palpating her abdomen. That sent a shock of pain shooting through her, and she cried out.

"Oh my." The doctor's solemn tone made her think the worst. "I'm sorry to have caused you pain, but I'm finished."

"So, Doc? What's ailing me?" She braced herself.

"I'm afraid your womb is full of tumors, my dear. That's the cause of the heavy flow and the pain."

The diagnosis was difficult to hear. She exhaled forcefully, letting her eyes slide closed. "Tumors. So will I die?"

"I don't think so, but to be safe, I need to operate." He stood, returning the basin to wash his hands again. Drying them on a towel, he came to stand over her. "I'll have to remove the womb. You won't be able to bear children, but I'm afraid it's our best option."

His words stung like a hundred angry bees. She knew how much her mother wanted grand-babies. Even though Valerie hadn't yet married, she'd hoped to one day find the right husband and gift her mother with a passel of healthy grandchildren. Hearing that she'd never be able to fulfill her mother's wish hurt immensely. Tears formed in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Doc Wilkins patted her shoulder. "When Mary comes in, I'll send her around to fetch your mother. Until then, try to rest."

As his footsteps retreated, she lay there in the dim light, and wept.

# CHAPTER 1

Ridgeway, California

September, 1884

Valerie smoothed a gloved hand over the surface of her wool jacket, freeing a bit of fluff from it, and descended the stairs from her family's apartment. At the foot of the stairs, townsfolk were already milling about the mercantile even at such an the early hour. Her father, Bernard, stood behind the cash register, greeting folks who passed by and tallying orders. Despite his status in town, he insisted on working in his own store, rather than hire someone to run it. He employed a few youngsters to help with inventory and during busy shopping seasons, but largely did the work himself.

Bernard completed the tally of the customer he was serving, placed the coins in the cash box, then turned her way. "Good morning, my dear."

She went around the counter to where he stood and, rising on her toes, placed a kiss on his cheek. Though she wore fashionable high-heeled slippers, he still towered over her by a good six or seven inches. "Good morning, Daddy."

Bernard looped an arm around her. "What are you about today? Staying around to help me run the store, perhaps?" The last part was said in jest, as she had not worked a day in the store since she was a child, having long since outgrown the novelty of being "daddy's little helper."

She smiled. "I'm going to the library for a new book, then lunch with Pru and Prissy, then I've a Ladies Society Meeting to attend."

He released his hold on her. "Alright. Then I'll see you this evening, dear." He glanced at the doorway, as if something drew his attention. "Looks like you have a visitor, Val."

She turned in the direction of her father's gaze, and saw the familiar, small figure lingering in the doorway of the mercantile. Leaving her father behind the counter, she walked toward the young boy, gesturing for him. "Come on in, Adam."

The pensive, brown eyed Adam Smart, a boy of five, dashed inside the store and ran to her, grinning widely. Adam, the nephew of the schoolteacher Janice, was a frequent visitor to the store on Saturday mornings. As Valerie crouched and gave him a tight squeeze, she relished the feeling of having him return the gesture. He really was a sweet child, despite the fact he reminded her of the joy that was lost to her forever.

When she released him, the cherub faced child looked up into her eyes. "You look real pretty today, Miss Valerie."

She gave his chubby cheek a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Adam. But there's no need for flattery. You know I'll always have a treat for you." She stepped away briefly to reach into the small glass bowl of hard candy on the counter, and handed a few pieces to the boy. "Here you are, sweetheart."

His little eyes lit up like a sunrise. "Thank you, Miss Valerie!" He placed the candy in the pocket of his trousers, save for one piece, which he unwrapped and thrust into his mouth. Giggling, he gave her a wave and bounded out into the sunshine.

She followed him outside onto the walk, and watched him as he skipped away. Adam was a darling child, quiet, well mannered, and loving. If she had a son, she'd want him to be just like Adam. But as she watched him disappear into the crowd at the end of the street, the bittersweet feeling rose again.

She would never have a son, or a daughter for that matter, despite her desire. She was twenty-nine years old, without a husband, and as barren as a burned out field. Shaking her head to push the feelings away before the tears started, she began walking toward the library.

As a cool breeze swept by, she was glad of her gray wool jacket, and she buttoned the top button over the frilly neck of her blouse to fend of the chill. She knew that due to the fickle nature of California weather, there was good possibility she'd want to take the jacket off entirely before the day was out.

As she passed the post office and entered the small building that served as the town's library, she scanned the interior for the face of her good friend, Prissy Parker.

She found Prissy stationed at the small oak desk, using her rubber stamp to check out a book to a young girl. "It'll be due back in ten days, sugar." As the child walked away with her book, Prissy looked up at Valerie. "Morning, doll! You're late." In her crisp white blouse with the crocheted collar, deep brown skirt, and her black hair tucked in bun low on her neck, Prissy looked every bit the conscientious librarian she was.

Valerie smiled at her friend's no-nonsense nature. She slid the gold watch from her purse and took a quick look. "Sorry. I know it's nearly eleven, but I slept late this morning."

Prissy folded her arms over her chest. "Adam's been in the store this morning, hasn't he?"

"How did you know?"

"Saw him run by a while ago." Prissy stood, coming around the desk. "Besides, you always get a kind of sad, faraway look in your eyes when you've seen him."

Valerie dropped her gaze to the floor. "I can't just avoid him, Prissy. For whatever reason, he's taken a liking to me."

Prissy waved her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't want you to avoid him. He's much too sweet a child for that. Just be aware that the sadness shows on your face after you've been with him." She reached out and gently took hold of her face with both hands, her words a low whisper. "Take heart, Val. One day you'll find a nice widower who already has children, or some other handsome man who won't give two flips that you can't carry."

She appreciated her friend's encouragement, but felt very wary of the other two women perusing the shelves. "Let's not talk about it now. I don't wish for the whole town to know." She looked around at the faces of the other patrons, and recognized neither of them. Both seemed to be absorbed in choosing a book. A modicum of relief rippled through her. "So, Prissy, have any new books come in this week?"

Prissy gave her a smile, and guided her over to the shelf along the far wall. "Yesterday, six copies of _The Prince and the Pauper_ finally came in. Now the Ladies Society can read it."

That brought a smile to Valerie's face. She'd heard much from her cousins and associates back East about Mark Twain's latest, which had been released last year. She was eager to explore what she'd heard was a very entertaining story. "Good. We'll start it this evening, if Miss Stern has no objections."

Scoffing at the mention of the mayor's wife, Prissy propped her fists on her hips. "Ella Stern objects to just about everything, but we'll read it anyway."

Valerie giggled. "Honestly, Prissy." She tucked a copy under her arm. "Check me out. Maybe I'll have a few moments to start reading before we meet for lunch."

She followed Prissy back to the desk, where the librarian stamped her log book.

Valerie signed her name. "Meet you at Ruby's in an hour." Ruby Parker, Prissy's mother, owned the town's only real restaurant. Most folks agreed that the little cafe in the lobby of the newly opened Taylor Hotel didn't count, since it only served beverages and fancy pastries. Valerie waved to her friend, and left the library.

Outside on the walk, she crossed Town Road, intent on getting a seat on one of the benches outside the Taylor Hotel so she could dive into the book. She was halfway across when heard a man's voice.

"Morning, Miss Valerie."

She looked up, and felt her breath leave her body in a rush. Mounted on horseback above her sat the tall, painfully handsome sheriff, Noah Rogers, his blue eyes fixed on her.

**

Noah looked down at Valerie, and wondered why she seemed so stricken by his greeting. Her coppery skin glowed in the sunlight, or perhaps he only perceived her that way due to his fascination with her. She looked as lovely as ever, in her soft gray wool skirt and jacket. The lacy collar of her white blouse peeked out above the jacket, embellishing the delicate column of her neck. Her wavy, dark brown hair was pinned into some impossible style, and a pert little gray hat, adorned with white blooms, sat atop the glossy strands. Her brown eyes were as wide as the road they were standing in.

Behind him, the sound of thundering hooves drew his attention away from Valerie's beautiful, but dumbfounded face. Theodore Stern's fancy carriage was turning left from Founder's Avenue onto Town Road. He swiveled his head just in time to see the coachman make the turn too fast.

Knowing the coach would soon strike them, he did the only thing he could think of. He leaned down, grasped the shocked Valerie around the waist, and swept her up onto Justice's saddle. Holding fast to her waist as she sat in front of him, he gave the stallion a hard kick. They galloped away seconds before Stern's coach skidded into the space they had been occupying. He let his startled horse calm down a bit , then halted the beast and turned back. He had a distinct feeling his assistance would soon be needed.

The coachman gave a shout loud enough to be heard over the sound of screeching horses and splintering wood as the carriage tipped over on it's right side, crushing one of the wooden benches on the walk in front of the Taylor Hotel.

Valerie, breathing heavily, finally found her voice. "My stars. I was about to sit on that bench!"

He chuckled, unable to stifle his reaction to her words. "Good thing you didn't." He relished the feeling of having her petite frame pressed so close to him, but he knew the moment would soon end. That was probably for the best, because if she remained this close to him for much longer, he would embarrass them both. "Let's go see how Mayor Stern fared."

Swinging down out of the saddle, he assisted Valerie to the ground next. He hitched his mount to a post outside the hotel. He approached the coach and joined in with the other men who'd come to try and right it. The coachman, who looked to have injured his right arm, sat on the walk, looking quite dazed.

Doc Wilkins rushed over from his clinic, medical bag in hand. "Hold on, now. Let's get the mayor out before we try to move the coach. He could be badly injured."

Noah moved around with the old doctor to the left door of the coach. Peering inside, he couldn't see anything, but he could hear Mayor Stern mumbling inside. Giving the door a hard yank, he opened it, then he and the men assisted the mayor out of the coach.

Once the mayor was on his feet, he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his fancy cutaway suit and wiped the blood from his brow. "Thank you, gentleman."

Doc Wilkins, adjusting his spectacles, peered into the mayor's eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Theodore shrugged. "Just a bump on the head. Nothing too serious, Doc."

Doc Wilkins nodded, still examining the mayor's face. "I'm going to examine you and your coachman anyway, just to be certain."

As the two men were attended to by the doctor and some of the citizens who'd gathered nearby, Noah looked around for Valerie. His eyes scanned the crowd until he saw her, venturing back out into the street.

He was about to call after her to ask why she was in the middle of the road again, but when she bent over, all thoughts fled his mind. Her skirt clad behind, upturned to his appreciative eyes, rendered him speechless. In that position, the round contours of her hips could not be obscured, even by the layers of fabric she wore. Viewing her from such an angle set his heart to thumping and his blood to flowing to the lower regions of his body. As he watched, she gathered up an object out of the dust, then stood again and walked his way.

As she passed him, he saw that she was clutching a book to her chest. "Thank you, Sheriff." She acknowledged him with a polite nod, then she disappeared inside the Taylor Hotel.

Shaking his head, Noah returned to Justice and mounted. He had his morning patrol to complete, and he still needed to ride the outskirts of town, where most of the citizens homes were located. He grabbed the reigns, knowing he'd have a difficult time concentrating today, after his interaction with the town darling. He turned his horse, heading west toward the end of Founder's Avenue.

# CHAPTER 2

"I hereby call this meeting of the Ridgeway Ladies' Society to order."

Hearing the dry, monotonous voice of Ella Stern, Valerie ceased her conversation with Lilly Benigno and faced forward. The women of the society were gathered in Lilly's den, as they did every Saturday evening.

Ella waited until she had everyone's attention, then spoke again. "Let's begin with old business. Mrs. Chase, can you report on that please?"

Prudence Chase, wife of the minister Derrick Chase, also served as secretary for the society. She stood from her seat, revealing her full height of nearly six feet, and read from a few sheaves of paper in her hand. "Well, we've collected twenty-five blankets so far to send to the Mount Saint Mary's Orphanage in Grass Valley, and we'll finish our knitting this evening, bringing the grand total to thirty blankets."

That drew a smattering of applause from the small group.

Hearing of the donation to the orphanage brought her a wonderful sense of accomplishment. Run by Mother Mary Baptist Russell and the Sisters of Mercy, the orphanage had begun taking in children back in '66, and was the only orphanage in the entire state of California. She sincerely hoped the blankets would bring plenty of warmth to the sisters' young charges. Since she'd learned of her barrenness, she'd thought of adopting a child from Mount Saint Mary's. However, without a husband, such a thing would be improper, and not in the best interest of the child.

"Also, we have raised seventy-five dollars toward the fund to expand the schoolhouse. I turned the money over to my father this afternoon, and he says it will go far in purchasing more supplies. He and his crewmen will start the work after school lets out for the year." Prudence took her seat.

"Thank you, Mrs. Chase." Ella turned her eyes on Lilly. "Mrs. Benigno, may we have the treasury report?"

Lilly stood dutifully. "With the interest earned last month, we have a total of three hundred six dollars, seventy-two cents in our account at Ridgeway Savings and Loan."

"Good." Ella gestured to Valerie. "Then I'll turn things over to our vice president. Miss Ridgeway, if you please." Ella took a seat in the circle of chairs as Valerie stood and went to the center.

Standing there, she looked out over the faces of the women around her. All were her trusted friends save for the less than jovial Ella Stern. Prissy, the straightforward one. Lilly, the sweet one. Prudence, the serious one. She loved them all like the sisters she'd never had. But lately, she hadn't seen as much of Lilly and Prudence, since they were both busy with husbands and children. Lilly's son Leo was three years old, and Prudence's daughter, Chloe Grace, was nearly two. She knew they were busy, and she didn't begrudge them their families. But sometimes, being with them hurt, as they served as constant reminders of the family she'd never have.

Clearing her throat, she spoke. "Thank you, Mrs. Stern. And let me say that I hope the mayor has a full and speedy recovery from that unfortunate coach accident."

Arms folded across her chest, Ella nodded tersely. "He'll be fine, the stubborn old goat."

Lilly stifled a giggle.

Valerie raised a hand to her mouth to cover her smile. "Well, then. This week, we've selected Mark Twain's book T _he Prince and the Pauper_ for our reading. Prissy has checked out copies for all of us, and we'll begin discussion on it in two weeks." She paused, glancing in Ella's direction for the inevitable objection to the book selection, but Ella only frowned. "Is there any new business to cover?"

Prudence raised her hand. "We've had a few membership inquiries."

She nodded. "Let them know of the dues, and tell them they are welcome to join us. Anyone else?"

Lilly spoke next. "I know it really isn't society business, but my seamstress shop should be ready to open in a few weeks time. Ricardo and I have been working on it day and night."

Valerie smiled. "Of course it's society business. We're all terribly happy for you."

The patter of footsteps sounded on the wooden floor, followed by the cooing of a small voice.

"Mama!"

All eyes turned toward the sound. There, at the bottom of the staircase, stood little Leo Benigno. Dressed in his tiny blue nightshirt and clutching a stuffed doll, he looked every bit as cherubic and sweet as a child could look. Valerie felt her heart melting as she gazed into his tear damp brown eyes. "Mama! Sleep with you!"

Lilly stood. "Leo, what are you doing out of bed, baby?"

"Sleep with you," he insisted again, his free hand reaching out to clutch her skirt.

The smiling Lilly shook her head, smiling. "Sorry, ladies. I'll have to cut the meeting short. He's so starved for attention lately."

"Where's Ricardo?" Prudence asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Still not back from selling produce to the market in Oakland." Lilly cradled her chubby son to her chest and kissed the top of his curly head. "I'll have to get him settled, or he'll be up all night."

Watching her friend hold her child, Valerie felt a lump of emotion forming in her throat. No child would ever seek comfort at her bosom, and knowing that had shattered a part of her heart. Each day, the burden of being barren seemed to grow harder and harder to bear. Only Prissy, the closest of her friends, knew her secret shame.

Covering her hand with her mouth, she snatched up her purse with the other hand. Ignoring the calls of her friends, she was out the door and in the saddle as fast as she could manage. Clicking her heels into the mare's sides and tugging the reins, she galloped off into the night. As she rode, she let the rippling wind dry the tears of sadness streaming down her cheeks.

***

Noah carried his wooden chair out onto the walk in front of the sheriff's office and set it down. It was a humid evening, and he figured his overnight shift on duty would be more comfortable if he spent some time outdoors, enjoying the night breeze. Once the chair was in place, he sat and leaned back, propping his feet on the overturned half of a barrel he used as his footstool.

Easing his cigar out of pocket of his leather jacket, he fished around in the pocket for a match. Once he had it in hand, he used his pocket knife to slice off the end. Then he struck it against one of the bricks surrounding the doorjamb, lit the cigar, and settled back for an evening of watching the stream of drunken idiots who would soon stagger out of the Crazy Eights saloon. It was his job to keep them out of trouble, and to see that they made their way home without endangering anyone in the process.

Ridgeway was mainly a quiet town, save for the occasional bar brawl, or privy tipping by some nary-do-well youngster. He liked to think that he and his deputy, Gregory Simmons, had a hand in keeping things relatively peaceful for the citizens. Eyes trained on the swinging doors of the saloon, which was across the street about a block to the east of him, he waited.

The sound of pounding hooves caught his attention, and he let his gaze shift to follow the sound. The rider was approaching from the east, and coming in fast. He dropped his feet to the floor, in case he needed to get up.

Moments later, the female rider streaked by him. Her gender was given away by her billowing skirts, lifted by the breeze she was kicking up. She slowed only to turn her horse into the narrow alley running next to the mercantile.

Wondering if she might be some newfangled female outlaw, coming to rob the store, he stood from his seat and removed his Colt from the holster on his hip. He ran across the street and slipped into the alleyway, his gun poised. With his back against the building, he sidled closer to the rear, where he'd seen the rider going.

He peered cautiously around the corner ...

And came face to face with Valerie Ridgeway. Her lips were pursed tight, and her face was streaked with wetness, as if she'd been crying.

"Why on Earth are you following me, Sheriff? Don't you know all the real troublemakers are at the saloon?"

He lowered his weapon, and relaxed, but only a bit. Her tone was far less than cordial. "When I saw you riding through town like the very hounds of hell were on your tail, I thought I'd better look into it. Besides, I didn't know it was you."

Sour look on her beautiful face, she folded her arms over her chest. "Well, now you do, so go on back to your office."

He shook his head. Where was the docile creature he'd seen earlier today, looking up at him like he was an Adonis? He much preferred that version of Valerie. "You've been crying. Are you all right?"

She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with a delicate hand. "I'm fine."

He was no expert at female moods, not by any stretch, but something told him she wasn't being honest. Something was bothering her; she just didn't care to share it with him. With that in mind, he stepped back, tipped his hat to her. "Then I'll take my leave. Evenin', Miss Ridgeway."

She gave him a terse nod, and opened her mouth.

Before she could dismiss him, two gunshots disrupted the silence.

He turned, jogging away. He figured those ruffians at the saloon were disagreeing over a hand of poker or some such nonsense, so he headed in that direction.

As he turned the corner, he could see that the commotion was not coming from the saloon.

At the end of Founder's Avenue, he could just make out a rider on horseback, leaving town at a full gallop.

In the middle of the street stood Henry Carl, the livery owner, shouting. "Sheriff! Come quick!"

Noah sprinted down the road until he arrived next to the old man. "What's going on?"

"Bandits! Just made off with two of my best stallions." Carl, a hothead by nature, snatched off his straw hat and tossed it down in the dirt. "You gotta go after 'em, sheriff!"

"Calm down, Carl. Who fired, them or you?"

"I did! I think I clipped one of 'em." Carl shook his head, looking defeated. "I need my stallions back, Noah."

He shook his head, both at Carl's expression, and at his declaration. "It's late, Carl. It'll be morning before I can get a posse together and ready to ride."

Carl huffed like a locomotive. "Can't you just take your deputy and ride out?"

He rolled his eyes. "And what if they come back while we're gone? Or some other varmints show up? Who would protect the townsfolk if we're both gone?"

Carl let out a resigned sigh. "Guess I'm just going to have to let my stallions go." With his eyes cast downward, he trudged back into the livery, letting the heavy oak door slam behind him.

Standing there in the street, Noah cursed aloud. This brazen horse theft left him wondering if the peace he and the citizens of Ridgeway had always enjoyed was about to be shattered.

He turned on his heel and stalked back up the street toward his office, his fists clenched at his sides. For the six years he'd been sheriff, he'd eschewed hobbies, drink, and women, in hopes of keeping Ridgeway as safe as it could possibly be. Now, bandits were coming into town, stealing from innocent citizens, and with only one deputy, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. Sure, he could have rushed off half-cocked and gone after the critters himself, but who knew what type of danger he'd be walking into? He'd likely be out-manned and out-gunned. No, despite the frustration that made him want to punch something, he knew he'd made the right decision. Come morning, he'd have Gregory round up a small posse and send them after the horse thieves.

He returned to his seat in the chair, taking in the night around him. The oil lamps mounted on poles at the intersection of Town Road and Founder's Avenue were lit, and they illuminated the entrance to the Taylor Hotel. The only other lights he could see were the ones form the lamps burning inside the saloon. There was no one on the streets, since it was nearly ten. The only movement he saw were a few fallen leaves being blown down the walk by a chilly breeze. He watched them in sullen silence as they tumbled by.

Tipping his head back, he focused on the starry night sky and tried to clear his mind. Strangely enough, the first image he saw was of the town darling, Miss Valerie Ridgeway. She was an odd female, always flitting about in fancy gowns and frothy hats. She had a habit of reading in front of the hotel, or in the lobby during the colder months- he'd noticed her doing it many times during his patrols. He'd also noticed that she wasn't sweet and coy with the men in town, the way a woman of her breeding ought to be. Rather than flirting or bantering with men, she seemed annoyed by their very presence. He'd never spoken to her at length, and the today's two encounters with her represented their most extensive interaction to date. She'd been so docile and pliable as she'd sat in the saddle of his horse, her petite frame against his. But the snapping turtle he'd encountered when he went to check on her this evening was more in line with the way he'd seen her act from a distance.

What was it about her that drew his attention? She was beautiful, there was no denying that. Bronze skin, long dark hair, and a feminine figure- with a sweeter disposition, any man would consider her marriage material. Why was she so ornery, anyhow?

He groaned aloud. There was not time to be musing about Valerie and what made her tick. His time would be better spent figuring out what he needed to do to deter thieves and other varmints from sullying his town with their presence.

Still, of it's own accord, his mind drifted back to his short little firebrand. He could easily see her on his arm, and thinking of her as his intended dredged up both delight and shock within him. He'd thought no woman could capture his interest in such a way, but he'd been wrong all along. The headstrong Valerie Ridgeway had embedded herself in his mind...and quite possibly, in his heart.

# CHAPTER 3

Valerie tied the belt on her blue satin robe, making sure it was tight enough to keep her nightgown covered. The morning sun shone through her white lace curtains, stippling the surface of her pink and red quilt with spots of light. Stifling a yawn, she left her room on the upper floor of the general store, and went into the kitchen.

There, her father sat at the table with an open copy of the Ridgeway Tribune in front of him, as was his routine.

At her entrance, his deep voice greeted her from behind the newspaper. "Morning, Val."

She walked over to him and placed a kiss atop his balding head. "Good Morning, Daddy." Then she turned toward the stove, where her mother was busy turning eggs in the skillet. Leaning again, she kissed her mother's cheek. "Good Morning, Mama."

Doris smiled. "Morning, cupcake. Breakfast'll be ready in a bit. Here, bring me a plate for these eggs."

She did as her mother asked, retrieving a china plate from the rack inside the cabinet. Setting it on the butcher block next to the stove, she sat down at the table across from her father. Three plates and sets of silverware had been set out at each of the chairs. In the center of the round mahogany table sat a pitcher of cool orange juice and a couple of tumblers. She poured herself some juice, and took a sip, enjoying the way the bright citrus flavor tingled against her tongue.

"Paper says bandits made off with Henry Carl's two best stallions a few nights ago." Bernard grunted. "Damn shame."

Doris, scooping the fluffy yellow eggs from the skillet onto the plate, shook her head. "Don't that beat the Dutch. Well, here's hoping they won't be back."

"Who knows these days? My buddy Jack over in Oakland says horse thefts and break-ins are getting more common, and they aren't too far from us here in Ridgeway."

Listening to her parent's banter, she remembered the gunshots she'd heard the other night when she'd been giving Sheriff Rogers a piece of her mind, and how he'd run off to investigate. He hadn't come back, and if he had, she had already gone inside for the night. "Was Mr. Ray hurt during the robbery? I heard shots that night."

Bernard shook his head. "Paper says Carl fired on them just before they hot-footed it out of town. Says he might of clipped one of 'em, too."

She was glad to know the liveryman hadn't been hurt, but was sorry to hear he'd had his property stolen. It worried her to think bandits were invading her home, but she tried not to think too much of it. After all, there was a chance it would never happen again.

Doris drifted over to the table then with the eggs, and a pan holding biscuits. "Fresh out of bacon this morning. Ricardo Benigno should be delivering some before the day is out though." She served them each a portion, then doled out what was left onto her own plate.

Valerie looked across the table at her mother as she ate her breakfast. Doris Gates Ridgeway was about as selfless as a person could be. Here they were, one of the wealthiest families in Ridgeway, and Doris was always looking for ways to cater to her family and her neighbors. True, they had a maid, Ce-Ce, but she never worked weekends. Doris had declared she have the time off, so she could go home to her own children. They could have built a fancy home on a big plot of land outside town, but Doris insisted on staying in the apartment above the store, just so she could be close in case her customers needed something. Aside from that, Doris delivered free meals to the elderly residents of town every Sunday afternoon. It was her mother's altruism that had first inspired Valerie to start the Ridgeway Ladies Society. She wanted to be a catalyst for good in the community, just as her mother was.

Finishing her breakfast with a final sip of the tart juice, she excused herself from the table. "The Society is surprising Janice Smart with a birthday party today, so I've got to get ready."

"Alright, dear." Her mother smiled. "We'll see you later on."

With a wave, she disappeared back into her room to change and fix her hair and makeup. Within the hour, she was on her way downstairs, with her parents following her so they could open the store.

Outside, she used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she meandered down the walk, passing the post office. Slipping into the library, she saw Prissy gathering her purse. "Is everything set?"

Prissy nodded. "Yep. Mama's got a pink frosted cake, sandwiches, Saratoga chips, and lemonade waiting for us." She joined her, and they both stepped back out into the sunshine. "Now the hard part begins—getting Janice to the diner."

"I know. We may just have to drag her. " Valerie shook her head as she thought of the conscientious schoolmarm, who was no doubt spending Saturday the way she always did: cleaning the school house and writing lesson plans. Despite her and Prissy's frequent invitations to lunch and Society meetings, Janice spent most of her time at the school.

Prissy spoke up as they crossed Founder's Avenue and made their way toward the schoolhouse. "You know, Janice is a damn good teacher, but she's got to have fun sometimes."

Valerie chuckled. "She's going to be awfully mad at us for interrupting her work."

Prissy waved her off. "It's Saturday, for Pete's sake, and it's her birthday. Woman's gotta take a day off now and again."

They crossed behind Doc Wilkins' clinic to reach the schoolhouse, and just like any time she passed the small log structure, a chill went down Valerie's spine. She shook it off as best she could, keeping her face impartial so Prissy wouldn't see her discomfort.

At the schoolhouse, they found the door propped open. Janice was inside, moving between the rows of desks with a whisk-broom. Upon their entrance, she glanced up, but didn't cease her sweeping. "Hey Val, Prissy. What are y'all doing here?" She paused for a moment, brushing at the perspiration on her forehead with the back of her hand. "Don't tell me you came to help me clean the schoolhouse."

Valerie shook her head. "We've come to take you to brunch at Ruby's." She lingered outside the door, knowing how irritated Janice would get if they tracked dirt inside while she was cleaning.

With a shake of her head, Janice resumed her sweeping. "I can't. I've got to finish getting this place clean, then I have..."

Prissy interrupted her. "We know, we know, you have lesson plans. It's Saturday, and the students won't be back until Monday." Arms folded over her chest, Prissy leveled a hard gaze on Janice. "So come on to the diner before we drag you out."

Valerie watched in amusement as her two friends stared each other down, each waiting for the other to admit defeat. Finally, Janice sighed. "Fine. But I need to be back here before it gets late, so I can finish up before the sun goes down."

Prissy laced her arm through Janice's and led her outside. "Sure, sure. Now let's go."

The trio walked up the road until they entered Ruby's Diner. As soon as they swung the door open, Janice's students and friends jumped out and yelled, "Surprise!"

The look on Janice's face was one of true surprise, and that pleased Valerie. It hadn't been easy to coordinate the party, since children were notoriously bad at keeping secrets. Somehow, they'd gotten it done, and seeing Janice's watery smile made it worth every bit of trouble she'd gone to.

Janice reached into her skirt pocket for a handkerchief, and dabbed at her eyes. "Thank you all so much for doing this for me. When I moved here in the spring, I had no idea you folks would be so welcoming."

Adam, Janice's nephew, ran up to his aunt. He was clutching a handful of wildflowers, which he handed up to her. "Happy Birthday Auntie Janice."

As Valerie and the others looked on, Janice stooped to kiss the boy's chubby cheek, then took the flowers he offered. "Thank you very much, Adam. You're just as sweet as sugar."

Adam's wide smile touched Valerie's heart so much, she had to hold back tears. Adam was such a wonderful little child. If she could have a son, she'd want one just as darling. Looking at him now, however, only served as a cold, brittle reminder that she would never know the joys of motherhood.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. This day was about Janice, and she vowed not to spend it brooding in the corner.

With that in mind, she made her way over to the birthday girl to give her a tight hug. As she accepted Janice's thanks for her part in organizing the party, her eyes drifted toward the diner's door.

In stepped the handsome sheriff, and her heart fluttered in her chest like a butterfly in a jar. It seemed no matter where she went, there was no escape from his overwhelming, masculine presence.

**

Noah entered the diner and removed his Stetson, taking in the festive scene. Gregory Simmons, his deputy, followed close behind.

"Lots of people turned out," Gregory commented as he tucked his hat under his arm and ran a hand through his ruddy brown hair. Tall and tan with honest brown eyes, and bearing the European features of his ancestors, Greg always checked his appearance whenever he entered into the company of women.

"I'm not surprised. Miss Smart in an excellent teacher." Intending to offer his well wishes, Noah searched the gathering until he found the schoolmarm, She was easy to spot by the crisp white blouse and black skirt she favored. Standing next to her was none other than Valerie Ridgeway. She was draped in yet another of her fashionable ensembles, this one a rich shade of green. The traveling costume, with its jet buttons running diagonally down the bodice, and black piping around the gathered skirt, accentuated the feminine curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, and the flare of her hips.

As if she could feel him watching her, she swung her gaze his way. Momentary surprise flashed across her face, but she composed herself, letting her expression become flat and impassive.

Gregory's voice cut into his thoughts. "I know you're not eying Miss Ridgeway, Noah. She's a shrew, and colored to boot."

Noah smiled. "I don't care that she's colored, she's a beauty. And even a shrew can be tamed by the right man—haven't you read any Shakespeare?"

Gregory chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. "No. But if you think you're going to bust that bronco, be my guest. It's your funeral." His face reddened with mirth as more chuckles spilled out.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Noah met Gregory's eyes. He wasn't lacking motivation to go after Valerie, as he'd always found her her enchanting. Greg's prodding, however, gave him a convenient excuse to approach her at the present moment. "Don't worry. When I make her mine, I'll be sure to give you a few tips." That said, he strode away from his friend toward the spot where Janice and Valerie were standing.

At his approach, the schoolmarm offered a small, shy smile. "Thank you for coming, Sheriff."

Noah bowed. "It's my pleasure. You're a pillar of this community, and I just wanted to extend my well wishes. Happy birthday, Miss Smart." He grasped her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it briefly before releasing it.

In response to his gesture, Janice's caramel cheeks filled with bright red coloring. "I'm much obliged, Sheriff."

Valerie cleared her throat, as if she were put out by the attention he was paying to Janice. "Hello to you, too, Sheriff."

"Miss Valerie." He reached for her hand, and she snatched it away.

"A simple hello will suffice." Valerie's pursed lips conveyed annoyance, but her brown eyes conveyed something else altogether.

Noah enjoyed watching her squirm. "Whatever you say, my lady."

One of Janice's young charges rushed over. The small girl's exuberance was impossible to ignore as she bounced up and down on her toes. "Miss Smart! Miss Smart! Come see my present I brought for you!"

Janice smiled down at the child. "Alright, Agnes. Calm down." She looked to Noah and Valerie. "Excuse me. I must see this gift before she bursts." She grasped the child's hand and let herself be led away.

Valerie appeared to be scanning the room, possibly for an escape route. "Well, Sheriff, it's been lovely..."

Noah reached for her hand again, this time catching her off guard. The moment his flesh connected with hers, a sensation shot through him. Her small hand seemed fashioned to be cradled in his own. "It doesn't have to end so soon, Miss Valerie."

This time, she didn't pull away from him. Instead, she fixed those fiery brown eyes on him. "Sheriff, what are you about?"

He held her gaze, letting her know that he wouldn't be put off by her attitude. "Word is that no man besides your papa ever finds himself in your good graces."

She rolled her eyes. "Even if that's the case, what concern is it of yours?"

"It is true. I've seen it with my own eyes." He continued to hold her hand, but didn't draw her near. He didn't want the gossips talking about them, and if he swept her into his arms as he desired to do, word would be out before suppertime.

She let out a long sigh. "I still don't see what you are getting at. Get on with it."

"Fine." He leaned in, and said the next words for her ears only. "I intend  to be the man who captures your heart. I am going to court you, woo you, and win you." As he spoke, he could feel her hand trembling inside his. Enjoying the feeling of power, he continued. "Prepare yourself, Miss Valerie."

That drew a gasp from her lips. Pleased with himself, he released her hand and slipped away from her without another word.

He located Gregory near the table, sipping a tumbler of lemonade. He joined his buddy there. "Greg. Why don't you take a look at Miss Valerie now."

They both looked and found her standing in the same spot, looking rather confounded.

Gregory looked impressed. "You got her attention, yes. But let's see how far you can really take this thing. If you can convince her to court you in the next two weeks, I'll take all of your weekend patrols for a month."

"You sound very confident that I'll fail, but I accept." He folded his arms across his chest, squaring off to let Gregory know he wasn't intimidated.

"Folks will talk, you know." Greg held his gaze.

He didn't flinch. "I don't give a damn."

"Don't you want to know what you'll owe me if you fail?"

Noah shook his head. "There's no need. I won't fail." He moved toward the door, and perched his beige Stetson back atop his head. "See you after my afternoon patrol." Not looking back, but pretty sure of Gregory's expression anyway, he swung the door open and strode out into the early afternoon sunshine.

# CHAPTER 4

As the cool of evening set in, Valerie pushed her potatoes and meatloaf around her plate. Ever since her encounter with the sheriff, her stomach had been filled with flapping butterflies. Though she loved her mother's well seasoned meatloaf, tonight she had about as much of an appetite as a picky toddler.

Her father, Bernard, had retired to the parlor with his pipe and a book of Tennyson poems, so only she and her mother remained at the table.

"What's the matter, cupcake?" Doris eyed her with concern. "I've never known you to turn down my meatloaf."

With a long sigh, she put her fork down. "I'm sorry, Mama. It's not your food—it's as delicious as always."

Doris didn't press, she simply watched and waited, as was her way.

"I have a bit of an odd problem." She looked down in her lap, wondering how her mother would react to what she was about to say. "The sheriff has made a rather insistent declaration to court me."

In response, Doris broke into a bright smile and clapped her hands together. "Problem? This is a blessing! It's just what we've been waiting for!"

Valerie's head dropped even lower between her shoulders. "We both know it's not that simple."

The unspoken truth passed between them, and Doris' exuberance cooled. "Valerie, I know you feel badly about not being able to carry, but that's not all there is to a marriage."

She cringed as the pain of her situation stung her once again. "I know, Mama. But the men around here don't seem to care much about anything else. They all want a woman who can bear them strong sons." She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. "They want a whole woman, Mama. A real woman."

Doris rose from her seat and circled the table. Leaning low, she wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "You are as much woman as me, or Prissy, or any other female in this town, and don't you forget it. I know this is difficult for you, but I think you should give Sheriff Rogers a chance."

She let herself be enfolded in her mother's embrace, and let the tears fall. "I just don't want to be hurt again. Remember Rupert Barnes?" He was the last man she'd courted far enough to let him know of her condition, and he'd turned tail and ran for the hills so fast he'd left a trail of smoke behind him.

Doris tightened her hold. "Oh, come now. We both know the sheriff is nothing like that spineless Rupert character. His mama had such a hold on him, I'm surprised she didn't lead him about on a leash." She stood, whipped out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, and wiped her daughter's tear streaked face. "Don't run him off, Valerie. He may be just the man you need."

She nodded, doing her best to accept her mother's words. Doris had given her sound advice her entire life, and Valerie knew she had her best interests in mind. There was no good reason not to take her mother's advice—only her own fear held her back.

She drew a deep breath, filling her lungs to calm her frazzled nerves. "Alright, Mama. I promise I'll give him a chance."

Doris smiled and squeezed her cheek. "I'm glad to hear it, cupcake. Now are you going to eat?"

Valerie nodded and picked up her fork. She was almost thirty, and talking to her mother always made her feel better. "Yes. I've gotten my appetite back, thanks to you."

Planting a brief kiss on her forehead, Doris left Valerie alone in the kitchen. In the silence, she finished the savory meatloaf and buttery potatoes, and considered a future as Mrs. Noah Rogers. What would it be like to be the wife of a lawman? She supposed he'd work long hours, and be called away from home at a moment's notice. A man like him would require a truly dedicated wife, one who could deal with the constant demands others would place on his time.

Of course, she might never get that far with him. He had to be the kind of man who could accept her inability to give him babies. She didn't know how he would react to the news, but she would eventually have to tell him. If he turned out to be the kind of man who could accept her barrenness, she'd be as faithful and loving a wife as he could ever dream of.

The sheriff was a handsome man; she'd have to be either oblivious or blind not to see that. That muscular build, the brilliant blue eyes, and the golden blond hair that just grazed his jawline added up to a picture of rugged male beauty. Being his wife would no doubt make her the envy of every sighted woman between here and Boston.

If he turned away from her, though, she didn't think she would ever get over it. Another rejection would likely do her in, and cause her to give up on the idea of marriage, and settle into life as a spinster.

She washed her plate in the basin, and placed it back in the rack with its kin. Her mind still reeling with all the possibilities of a relationship with the sheriff, she wandered down the hall toward her bedroom.

**

Fanning his hand of cards in front of himself, Noah wanted to groan. Instead, he kept his face impassive. Part of the art of poker was being able to maintain the perfect bluff, and he'd perfected his over the years since he'd first learned the game as a hotheaded youth. Just because his hand wasn't worth a pile of horse pies, didn't mean his buddies had to know.

Around the table in the Crazy Eights saloon sat his regular poker mates—Roderick Emerson, the town's main architect, Thaddeus Stern, the only child of the Mayor and his wife, and Ricardo Benigno, the Spanish sea captain turned farmer. The men alternated with two others, Gregory, and young Uriah Stevens, whose mother Eulah served as the town's undertaker, but there were always four of them present at the table for every game.

It was nearing four o'clock, the time they usually ended things so they could clear out before the undesirables moved in. After five, the place would be swimming with lumber workers, farmers, and day laborers who often imbibed too much, and well-dressed card sharps out to separate folks from their hard earned money.

This was the last hand, and Noah was determined to make his friends think he had the best hand a man could get. With all the confidence of someone holding a full house, he scooped up a handful of chips and pushed them toward the center of the table. "I'm in for forty dollars."

Thaddeus, the youngest man present, gave the same wide-eyed look he always displayed when he was being outgunned at the card table. His tell made his decision obvious even before he spoke the words. "I fold."

All eyes turned to Rod Emerson, who casually smoked his pipe as if he hadn't a care in the world. With the cards fanned in his right hand, he slipped the pipe from his lips with his left, just long enough to say, "I'm in." He scuttled his chips toward the pile.

Ricardo, his eyes narrowed as if deep in thought, pursed his lips. "Hmmm. The sea is a harsh mistress, but the hand of fate can be even harsher."

Noah glanced his way. "I'm assuming you fold, Captain?"

Running a broad hand through his dark, wavy hair, Ricardo sighed and laid his cards down. "I'm out, gentleman."

Rod Emerson removed his pipe from his lips, setting it on the table. He lay his cards face down on the table, and hooked his thumbs behind his red suspenders, gliding them up and down. "It's just you and me, Sheriff. Ready to show your hand?"

Recognizing Rod's attempt at intimidating him, Noah gave him a half smile. "Why not show yours first, Emerson?" He leaned back in the chair, propping his boots up on the table. "I got nothing but time."

Rod cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Well, when a hands this good, I don't need to rush to show it." He sat back as well, and folded his big arms across his chest.

Noah shook his head, never taking his eyes off his opponent. "Sounds to me like you're full of bluster. Why don't you just admit defeat now, before I go home with more of your coin that I'm already about to take?"

The mask fell from Rod's face like a flimsy corset fell off a woman's bosom. With a heavy sigh, he laid his cards down. "Dash it all to hell, I fold."

A grinning Noah removed his feet from the table and leaned forward to gather up the $150 he'd just won. As he swept the poker chips into the canvas satchel he kept just for that purpose, Thaddeus spoke up.

"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 flowed 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 Hotel, 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.

"We'll start polling folks tomorrow." Noah sat up in his chair, leaning forward. "This isn't our fault, you know. You're a good man, Greg, and a dedicated deputy."

Greg's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Aw, shucks. You're pretty good, too, as sheriffs go. I guess the times are just changing."

"They are. But we'll adjust. That's what folks have always done." He stifled a yawn. It had been a long day, and a new day would soon begin. "As for right now, I'm going home to my bed." He rose from his seat, grabbing his hat from the hook on the wall near his desk.

Greg passed him, sitting down where he had been. "See you in the morning, Noah."

Tipping his hat to his friend, he stepped out into the cool air, and nearly crashed into Valerie

Stopping abruptly, he reached out to right her before she fell. She looked to be wearing her cloak over her nightclothes.

"Valerie? What are you doing out so late?"

She looked up into his eyes, with red-rimmed eyes of her own. "I couldn't sleep."

He said nothing else, but wrapped an arm around her small waist.

# CHAPTER 7

Comforted by the warmth of his embrace, Valerie walked with Noah down the plank walk. She was still on edge from what happened to Prissy, so much so that she hadn't been able to wind down. Not wanting to wake her parents, she'd crossed the street to the sheriff's office, hoping to find him there.

As he walked her back toward the mercantile, she sighed. "I don't want to go back home. I can't sleep."

Noah shook his head. "I don't want you out this late at night alone. It's safer if you go home."

"Noah..."

"Don't argue. Stay up and read if you must, but stay inside. Who knows what could happen to you wandering the streets alone at night?" He opened the gate that led around the side of the mercantile with his free hand.

She entered reluctantly. Gazing up into those glittering blue eyes of his, she spoke. "Stay with me for a while?"

He hesitated for a moment. Then, he stroked a gentle finger down her jaw. "Alright. Just for a moment."

The longer she looked at him, the more she could see the exhaustion lining his features. She was keeping him from his bed, and she knew it, but she needed the strength and safety of his nearness if she was ever going to get to sleep. Something came over her, a boldness she'd never felt before in her life. She lifted her open palms, cupping his scruffy face between her hands, and leaned up.

Their lips met a second later, and she couldn't remember ever having felt so alive. She'd caught him off guard, but soon he was kissing her back, his lips pressing against hers with the same enthusiasm she felt.

Both his arms wrapped around her waist, and her arms wound around his strong shoulders. The kiss deepened, filling her with the heady sensation only a powerful man like Noah could invoke.

He pulled away, breaking the seal of their lips. "I should go."

She knew he was right. Here they were, kissing in the moonlit darkness, with her dressed in nothing more than her nightgown and cloak. It was about as improper as it could be. "I know."

He released her from his embrace, and walked to the other side of the gate, closing it behind him. As he effectively put the physical barrier between them, he touched the brim of his hat. "Goodnight, Valerie."

"Goodnight, Noah."

He strode away, and she watched him leave until he was out of sight. Drawing her cloak tighter against the chill in the air, she climbed the back steps to the upper apartment, and slipped inside without a sound.

**

Draining the last few drops of his strong coffee, Noah stood by the front window of his office, looking out onto the street. The citizens were out today, moving to and fro. Some drove, some were on foot, some stopped to hold conversations. It was a typical weekday in Ridgeway, and as the lunch hour drew closer, the size of the crowd would increase.

He put his mug down on the surface of his desk and stretched, raising his arms high over his head. As he rubbed his eyes, he did his best to perk up. After only a few hours of sleep, he was the antithesis to all the hustle and bustle outside his door. Still, regardless of his desire to go home and crawl back into his nice warm bed, his duties as sheriff demanded he go out into the fray. Retrieving his hat from the peg, he placed in on his head. He grabbed the leather vest he often wore from the back of his chair, and shrugged it on over his blue shirt. His gun belt fastened to the waist of his denims, and the pad and pencil tucked in his back pocket, he stepped out into the crowd.

It took him a few moments of scanning the crowd before he saw someone who looked like a suitable person to poll first. He was a young farmer with a family, and he was presently leaning against the hitching post in front of the barber shop, smoking a cigar. Approaching the young man, whom he only knew in passing, he greeted him by touching his hat. "Morning, Billy."

Billy removed the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a cloud of spicy, pungent smoke. "Mornin', Sheriff. What can I do for you?"

Removing the pencil and pad from his back pocket, he readied them as he spoke. "Just a few quick questions. Have you heard of the crimes that have taken place here in town over the last few weeks?"

Billy looked thoughtful for a moment as he tapped his cigar against the hitching post, the ashes falling and being carried away in the breeze. "Well, I heard about some horse thefts, and a purse snatching. That what you mean?"

He nodded. "Yes. I was wondering what you think about the increase in crime in the area?"

"Sign of the times, I suppose. More people moving West, only some of 'em are up to no good, know what I mean, sheriff?" Billy took another draw from the cigar.

"What would you think about paying just a bit more in taxes so the town could have a regular posse for protection?" He jotted down Billy's name, and prepared to take his answer.

Billy scoffed. "No way, Sheriff. I already pay plenty, and I ain't parting with a cent more of my money, 'specially not for that old blowhard Stern."

Noah was a bit taken aback by the younger man's words. "What about your wife and daughters? Don't you want them to be safe?"

With a snicker, Billy shrugged his shoulders. "I got a Winchester, and my wife's got two little purse guns of her own. I think we already got all the protection we'll be needing."

Noah wrote Billy's sentiments down, then put the pad and pen away. "Thank you for your time, Billy. You've been a great help."

"No problem, Sheriff." The young man tipped his hat, and dropped his cigar into the dirt. After crushing it beneath his boot, he disappeared inside the barber shop.

There on the walk, Noah looked around for someone else to poll. This time, he chose a female citizen, Angel May, who worked the bar at the Crazy Eights saloon. She dressed in an unorthodox fashion for a woman, favoring tight fitting denims over skirts and gowns, but still donning lacy blouses. He strode across the street and approached her, where she was sweeping the walk in front of the saloon. Upon seeing his approach, she straightened and set the broom aside. Her dark lashes fluttering, she made eye contact with him. "How can I help you, Sheriff?"

"Morning, Angel." He tipped his hat. "Just wanted to ask you a few questions. I'm polling the townsfolk."

"Alright." She continued to stare at him, as doe-eyed as could be.

He ignored her overt flirting, and posed the same questions to her that he'd just asked Billy. Much to his surprise, she echoed similar sentiments.

"I don't think things are all that bad in town, Sheriff." Angel leaned against the facade of the saloon, crossing her ankles. "Me and my boss can handle the drunks in the saloon; if not, we just call you."

He couldn't hold back his sigh. "What about the safety of the other ladies, and young-ins in town?"

She shrugged. "I can handle myself, and I ain't got no babies, so..." Her nonchalant expression let him know her attitude about the situation. She was only concerned about herself, and considered the plight of her neighbors out of her sphere.

After writing her name and opinion on the pad, he tucked it away. "Thank you, Miss Angel."

"Anytime, Sheriff." She smiled and held his eyes. "And if you ever get bored with Miss Ridgeway, you know where to find me." Gathering her broom, Angel sashayed through the saloon doors.

Shaking his head, he walked a few feet to the benches in front of the Taylor Hotel. Two remained since Mayor Stern's coach accident, so he took a seat on one of them to gather his thoughts.

So far, things were not going as he'd expected. He'd only polled two people, but both of them had been of the right age range to represent the majority of the citizens in and around town. In the past several years, the population had shifted to a more youthful one, with more young families than the town had ever had in the past. Those mid-twenty somethings had the most to lose should Ridgeway become a haven for criminals, yet they seemed roundly unconcerned about the latest illegal activities that had taken place right in their own backyard.

In a way, he could understand their point of view. After all, they had only their own families, property, and land to think about. He, however, was burdened daily with the enormous responsibility of ensuring the safety of all the citizens of Ridgeway. It was a duty he took very seriously, and he would do everything in his power to perform it honorably. He worked long, grueling hours, and wasn't paid nearly as much as the sheriffs in bigger towns and cities like Oakland and Sacramento, but he was sworn to protect and serve, and he did so to the best of his ability.

He thought of the people he knew, who lived and worked alongside him. Valerie and her parents. Miss Parker, the librarian. Ruben Gray, the postman and telegraph clerk. Miss Smart, and the children who attended Ridgeway Primary School. The Taylor family, and their staff at the hotel. They were all his neighbors and friends, and they all depended on he and his deputy to keep them safe.

As a boy, he'd been privy to the brave actions of his pa and two uncles, who were lawmen in Indian Territory. His pa, Irvin, had been a marshal, and his uncles, light horsemen. Growing up several miles outside of Wewoka, he and his two younger brothers had been regaled with tales of foiled train robberies, squelched raids on the reservations, and all manner of exciting deeds. His mother, Violet, had not been much of a talker, but she'd always beamed with pride at her husband's actions. After his uncle Isaac had been killed during a bank robbery, Noah's pa had retired from his post. His parents now lived on the coast in San Francisco.

He snapped himself back to the present, recalling the important work at hand. He would continue his polling, until he'd gathered at least twenty opinions, but the trend still worried him. If the other townsfolk shared a similar view, and refused to pay extra taxes for a posse to be raised, there was no need for him to bother Mayor Stern with the idea, no matter how sound he thought it was. He leaned back on the bench, ran a hand over his face. This was likely to be a very long day. When he felt he'd taken a long enough break, he got to his feet and went about his work.

By the time supper rolled around, he returned to the office, where Gregory was waiting for him. Hoping to hear a good report, he sat down on the edge of the desk. "What results did you get in the outlying areas?"

Greg, seated behind the desk, shook his head. "Polled seventeen folks between here and Oakland. Only three of them were willing to pay more in taxes for the posse."

That drew a long sigh from Noah. "Dang it. I polled thirty-five, and only six were willing to pay. Looks like our idea is sunk."

"I can't believe people don't want to part with another eagle a year for their own safety."

"Nobody seems to be taking these crimes very seriously. They all think it's just a fluke because of westward expansion."

"So, what now?"

He scratched his chin. " A volunteer posse, maybe? I'll wire my pa in San Fran. He's liable to have some kind of advice for us."

Shaking his head, Greg gazed out the front window. "I just wonder what's gonna have to happen around here before folks see the need for a full time posse."

Noah felt a chill shoot down his back like a spider scuttling on his skin. "I don't know, but I'd sure hate to find out."

# CHAPTER 8

With little Leo Benigno squirming in her arms, Valerie waved to Lilly. "We'll be fine. You and Ricardo go on to the shop." They were standing in the side yard next to the mercantile, just inside the wooden fence.

"Okay." Lilly, still holding Leo's chubby hand, looked hard pressed to part with her son. "We really should. We've got to get some work done in that building if I'm ever going to open my dress shop." She kissed the boy's chubby cheek once more, and released her hold on him. "Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Auntie Val, okay?"

Leo's answering "Yes, Mama," was a sweet as sugar cane. At three years old, he was quite talkative, but still did more giggling and fussing than actual intelligible speaking. With his bright green eyes, caramel skin, and mass of dark curls, Leo was the cherubic double of his father.

The handsome Ricardo, his long black hair bound at the base of his neck, stood on the walk, waiting for his wife. He was dressed for the work ahead, wearing a pair of worn denims and a faded brown shirt. Even in that attire, Valerie thought he looked every bit the dashing sea captain he was before he'd married Lilly.

Ricardo called out to his wife. "Come, dearest. The walls won't paint themselves."

With a final wave, Lilly dashed off to follow her husband, leaving Valerie alone with Leo.

The poor little tike broke into a wail as soon as his mother was out of sight. Arms flailing and head tilted back, he fussed something fierce, with fat tears streaming down his face.

Valerie held him close to her heart and shushed him, bouncing him up and down. She was quite used to Leo's outbursts, as she'd watched him for Lilly before. He was as attached to his mother as any child she'd ever seen, if not more so. Still, she didn't fret about his hollering, for she knew he'd soon tire himself out and fall asleep.

To speed the process along, she slipped through the gate, closing it behind her, and began to walk. As the rocking motion of her steps set in, her charge's wailing grew more quiet, and his tiny body less tense. Nodding to those she passed, she set her feet in the direction of the stretch of land beyond the diner, where she could sit with him and enjoy the evening breeze. It was an hour past suppertime, and she wanted to enjoy the last bit of remaining daylight.

Leo finally quieted as they neared the picnic table beneath the tree. Sitting down, she shifted him into her lap, surprised to see that he was still awake. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, then let him down. A second later, he was scampering about in the grass, chasing a butterfly.

From the bench, she watched his carefree play, and felt a fluttering inside her heart. Leo was so young, so full of awe and curiosity in the magical way all children were. It was a large part of why she wanted children.

And why it hurt so badly to know she could never have them.

Years back, when she'd first learned of her barrenness, she'd felt guilty about not being able to give her mother the grandchildren she craved. As time passed, she'd been met with a new pain, as she discovered her own maternal yearnings. Watching her friends bring life into the world, and nurture their little ones, had been a bitter pill to swallow.

Not wanting to let the melancholy wash over her, she contented herself with watching this sweet little boy at play.

She was so enraptured with watching Leo that she didn't see Noah until he was almost upon her. He was crossing the grass, wearing the white shirt, brown leather vest, and tight fitting denims that constituted his uniform. His blond hair was covered by the light brown Stetson he always wore, and the silver star glistened on the right side of his vest.

When he came to stand next to the table, he touched his hat brim. "Evening, Valerie."

She gave him a shy smile. "Evening, Noah. Care to join us?" She gestured to the empty space on the bench beside her.

"Sure." He sat down, and eased close to her. "Watching Leo for Lilly, I'm guessing."

She nodded, looking at her handsome companion. Even under the shadow of the brim of his hat, his attractive features weren't dampened. The blue eyes were just as striking; the full lips, just as tempting. "She and Ricardo needed to do some work in her new dress shop."

He leaned back, stretching his big arms across the table's surface behind him. "How are things coming along with that?"

"Lilly says if all goes well, they'll open for business in the next two weeks." They were making small talk, it was obvious. But having had so little experience with courting, she assumed this was how it always began. "Any luck with finding the bandit who took Prissy's purse?"

"Nope. But I wired the sheriffs in five surrounding cities. Something'll turn up in a few days."

She swung her gaze back to Leo, who was still running around in the field. His lighthearted giggling filled her ears and her heart.

Until he tripped and fell over some unseen object in the grass. Then, his plaintive wail pierced the air. She knew she had better tend to the poor little dear before he woke the dead with his yowling.

By the time she made a move to stand, Noah's long legs had already carried him halfway to Leo. She watched as Noah scooped the boy up in his arms, speaking softly to him.

"There, there, little one." He examined Leo's left knee as he brought him back to the table. Sitting Leo down on the seat between them, he continued. "It's just a scrape. Let Uncle Noah fix it." He reached into his vest and produced a handkerchief, which he wet with a bit of water from the canteen he carried on his gun belt. He applied the damp cloth to Leo's knee, and the child's wailing immediately ceased. His green eyes still welled with tears, but at least he was quiet.

Amazed at his rapport with the child, she smiled. "Thank you, Noah. Your skill with boo-boos is truly impressive."

Still holding the cloth in place with one hand, he used his other to soothe Leo with gentle pats to his small back. "I have two younger brothers, so I'm used to tending to scrapes."

That was another tidbit about him that she hadn't known. "So, you have brothers. Where are they now?"

"My middle brother, Peter, is newspaper man in Philadelphia. My youngest brother, John, is a poker player."

"Really? With a sheriff for a brother?"

Noah chuckled, removing the cloth and tucking it away. "He always was a pigheaded boy. Last I heard, he was down in Mexico, living a fine life."

Leo, who was probably exhausted from his play and his ordeal, was now leaning against her side, drifting off to sleep. She braced his small body with her arm around his shoulders. "You don't seem too bothered by your younger brother's occupation."

He shrugged, looking out over the field. "Not much I can do about it, so I don't worry over it." His gaze shifted, and his eyes locked with hers. "I like to put my efforts into what's important." He reached out, cupping her face in his large hand. "Like you."

She could feel the heat filling her cheeks. "Why, Noah."

His handsome face lit up from his smile. "It's true. You're important to me. I'm too busy thinking on our future to meddle in other folks' affairs."

His mention of their future made her bristle. With Leo cradled against her, she couldn't miss the obvious implication in his words. She couldn't keep her secret from him, not after she'd seen his natural fatherly instincts, and the way he smiled at the little one. "Noah, I have something I must tell you."

"What is it?" His expression changed to one filled with concern. "Why do you look so troubled?"

"I..." She knew she owed him the truth, but the words were so hard to formulate. She struggled with the gravity of what she was about to say for a few moments, then whispered the words that might destroy any chance she had with him. "I'm barren."

He looked confused, as if he hadn't understood her. "What? Speak up a bit, darling."

Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes against the blinding pain. "I said, I'm barren. I can't give you babies, Noah."

He lapsed into silence for a moment, and she wondered what was going through his mind. If he was like the other men who'd courted her, he would soon be making some excuse to leave. So, she waited.

Finally, he looked at her. "I understand, Valerie." His eyes held something akin to disappointment. He tried to hide it by turning away quickly, but she'd already seen it there.

"I'm sorry, Noah. I felt you should know." Unable to look at him, she instead focused her gaze on Leo's innocent, sleeping face.

He nodded. "Don't apologize. I appreciate your honesty."

The mood had changed, she could feel it. A palpable awkwardness now existed between them. True, he hadn't run away after her admission, but it was growing dark. His protective instinct likely kept him there, rather than any urge to pursue her further romantically. Until he told her different, she would assume their courting days were over. Now that he knew her greatest fault, what reason had he to stay with her?

She was so lost in thought, she didn't notice him easing closer to her.

He leaned in, and gave her a gentle, fleeting kiss on the lips. Before she could close her eyes, he slid away. "I can't stay. I need to get some sleep before my shift in the morning."

Still dazzled by the brief kiss, she nodded. "Alright."

"Come, I'll escort you home."

The sun was hanging low on the horizon, and would soon give way to the silvery moon against the midnight blue of darkness. There, in the growing shadows, he clasped her hand, and she stood. Gathering the sleeping Leo in her arms, she let him walk her back to the mercantile.

**

Finished with her weekend cleaning duties, Janice placed the broom in the closet in the back of the schoolhouse. She always spent part of her Saturday here, sweeping out a week's worth of accumulated dust, polishing the desks, and generally making everything neat and tidy for the coming school week. Doing things the way she did left her free to attend services at the church on Sunday, and have a relaxing afternoon at home before Monday came around.

She untied the old brown scarf she'd tied her hair up with, crumpled it, and used it to mop the sweat from her brow. After the day's chores, she was sorely in need of a bath, and couldn't wait to get home to attend to her own needs. Before she could go home, however, she'd need to ride over to the Chase homestead and pick up Adam, who was being looked after by Prudence for the day.

When she'd put away all of her cleaning supplies, she shut the closet door. Gathering her cloth purse, she eased outside into the cool of the night, closing the doors. She used her key to lock the schoolhouse, then proceeded to the tree where she'd hitched Sally, her old mare. With her purse and a lit lantern hooked on the saddle horn, she mounted up and rode off, trotting down Town Road until she left the boundaries of town.

As the buildings and walks gave way to trees and the sounds of animals, Janice kept the horse moving at a good pace. She was in a hurry, yes, but didn't want to risk an accident by riding too fast in the dark.

She'd taken this route every Saturday evening for the past several months, but tonight, something seemed different, odd. She scanned the sides of the road, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, there were areas outside of the circle of light cast by the lantern that she couldn't see clearly. Doing her best to shake off the strange feeling, she rode on.

Until she heard Sally screech in pain.

Confused and frightened, Janice could do nothing as the horse fell forward, tucking her front legs beneath her. She slid off the saddle on the left side and landed on her bottom in the dirt.

She immediately got to her knees, grabbed up the lantern, and peered at her animal. "Sally? What's the matter girl?"

She moved the lantern about, trying to ascertain the extent of the horse's injuries. In the pale yellow light, she could see the scrapes on the front lower portion of the mare's legs. Her brow furrowed, she wondered where the marks had come from.

She looked again, and there, in the lantern light, she saw that a length of rope had been stretched across the road. It was low enough that it would likely be missed by someone walking or riding by, but just high enough to cause them to lose their footing.

But who would do something like that?

A chill ran down her spine, and she realized something was amiss.

The crunching of leaves behind her made her turn away from her injured mare, toward the thick line of trees.

One shadowy figure stepped out, followed by another.

Janice's heart pounded in her ears.

They stalked closer, close enough for her to smell the pungent stench of unwashed flesh and horse offal on them.

Then one of them spoke.

"Looks like we got us a pretty lady needs some help."

The other man laughed. "Yeah. So, let's help ourselves."

Janice backed away, her skirt catching on the sharp edges of jagged rocks and twigs as she slid across the dirt road. "Please don't hurt me."

The man closest to her grabbed her lantern, and lifted it so she could see his face. He was a white man, maybe in his late thirties. His dirty, unshaven countenance was occupied by two hollow black eyes . His twisted, grinning mouth was full of brown, rotted teeth. "Sorry, miss. Can't promise you that."

"No!" She scrambled to her feet, and tried to get away.

But rough hands grabbed her before she could make three steps.

She struggled against the unknown fingers, now yanking at the buttons of her blouse. They popped off, and she could feel the breeze on her bared neck and shoulders as the blouse was dragged away.

With all her might, she struggled against them.

"Stop fighting, damn it!" one of the men's agitated voices rang out.

She wouldn't stop.

She couldn't stop.

Couldn't let them befoul her, steal her virtue right here in the middle of the road.

So she swung her arms, and kicked her legs, and did whatever she could to make it hard on them. Maybe if she put up enough of a fuss, they'd leave her be.

One of the men swung out with something hard and heavy, smashing it into the back of her head. The blow made her mind reel with an explosion of pain so great, all the fight drained out of her in an instant.

And then the darkness set in.

# CHAPTER 9

His hands full of sheaves of paper, Noah used the toe of his boot to open the bottom drawer of his desk, and dropped them inside. That done, he closed the drawer and sat down. Having spent the last hour doing the thing he hated most about his job, organizing his warrants and reports, he was glad to be rid of the stack of paper. Lord willing, he wouldn't have to bother with the paperwork again until this time next month.

Clerical work was always handled on a Sunday, as it was typically his least busy day for keeping the peace. With the saloon and most of the businesses in town closed for the day, folks usually busied themselves with wholesome pursuits, like attending services at Reverend Chase's Ridgeway Community Church, resting from the week's labors, or spending time with their families. Now, with the lunch hour approaching, Ruby's Diner would open to feed the hungry parishioners as they left the church.

He sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk, and chewed over the problem of convincing the townsfolk they needed a posse. He hadn't had any more reports of crimes since Miss Parker's purse was stolen, but his lawman's instinct wouldn't let him rest on his laurels. He knew, deep down in his bones, that something else was going to happen. He wished there was more he could do to prevent it, but with only himself and Gregory to handle the job, his hands were pretty much tied.

Loud pounding on the office door shook him from his thoughts. Getting to his feet, he opened the door, and found Prudence standing there. The worried look on her face, along with the way she wrung her hands, made him particularly concerned. "Mrs. Chase. How can I help you?"

"It's Janice." She wiped away a tear sliding down her cheek. "She never came to get Adam last night."

Hearing the schoolteacher's name made him shake his head. He reached up to the hooks mounted beside the door frame, retrieving his hat and gun-belt. "And that's unusual for her?"

"No, she sometimes stays overnight at the school, if she's not done cleaning. But she never misses service, and she wasn't there today." Prudence began pacing, walking in a small circle on the walk outside the door. "No one's seen or heard from her since yesterday."

He didn't like the sound of this. Everything he knew about Miss Smart told him that she would not leave her nephew with anyone this long, nor be absent from church services—at least not if she had any say in the matter. He fastened the gun-belt around his waist, glad of his policy of keeping it well-stocked at all times. "Where's Adam now?"

"With Valerie. Derrick and some of the other men have volunteered to help search for her." She ceased her pacing, and her teary eyes met his. "Please find her, Sheriff. She's a good person."

He nodded, placing the Stetson on his head. He shrugged on his long coat to stave off the chill in the air. As he stepped onto the walk, he closed the office door and touched Prudence's shoulder. "Go sit with Valerie and the boy. We'll find her."

She nodded. "The menfolk are waiting for you at the schoolhouse." With that said, she crossed the street toward the mercantile.

He unhitched Justice from his post, and mounted up, taking off at full gallop. When he rounded the corner behind Doc Wilkin's clinic and into the clearing where the schoolhouse sat, he saw the mounted men waiting there for him: Derrick, the town's only reverend since the passing of Thomas Earl last winter; Ricardo Benigno, the sea-captain turned farmer; Uriah Stevens, the young son of the town's undertaker, Eunice. And, to Noah's surprise, also present was Thaddeus Stern, the only child of the mayor and his wife.

Deciding to leave questions about Thad's presence for later, he called out to them. "Ready, men?"

They all gave their affirmatives, vocally and with their gestures.

Noah turned his horse toward the town boundary, and urged Justice ahead.

As they rode alongside each other down Town Road, Thad spoke. "I used my father's skeleton key to unlock the schoolhouse. No sign of Miss Smart inside."

So they'd searched her last known location. That would work in their favor.

Derrick's voice rang out. "Look! It's Miss Smart's horse!"

Noah looked in the direction Derrick indicated, and saw the mare limping toward them. She was still about a half mile away. "Well, now we know we're headed in the right direction."

They moved on, all except for Ricardo, who stopped and dismounted to check on the animal. "Her forelegs are injured. I'll get her to the livery, so she can get some help."

As Ricardo went about hitching the mare to his own horse, they moved on down the road. Noah scanned the scenery as they rode, looking for any sign of Miss Smart.

An uncomfortable silence fell as they moved farther away from the border of town. The mood was solemn, and he knew it was because they were all dreading whatever unpleasant fate had befallen Miss Smart. He only hoped she was still among the living.

As he visually assessed the roadway, he saw a small object laying in the road, about twenty feet ahead of him. He halted Justice, and raised his hand so that Thad and Derrick would stop as well. Dismounting, he walked closer to the object until he could make it out. Stooping down to pick it up, he felt his chest tighten. "It's her purse." He knew it was hers, as he'd seen her carrying the thing around town. The mouth of it, on either side of the drawstring, was embroidered with her initials, _J.S._

The other men dismounted, and came near.

Derrick removed his hat and placed it to his chest. "My Lord."

Thad turned slowly around, taking in a full circle view of the area. "This is outrageous. If our women aren't safe, something's got to be done about it."

Noah clutched the purse in his clenched fist, swinging his gaze around. Janice was close by, he knew it. He prayed that she was still alive.

He drew a deep breath, doing his best to calm his rattled nerves. He needed his wits about him, so he wouldn't miss any important details.

He squatted low, allowing himself closer examination of the area where he'd retrieved the purse.

He could see some horseshoe indentations in the earth, as well as an intriguing imprint that looked like two small trenches. Focusing on them, he realized they were marks made by a horse's forelegs. Remembering Sally limping toward town, he assumed she'd taken a fall.

But why?

Acting on instinct, he moved to the area in front of the indentations.

Then he saw it.

A broken length of rope, lying in two pieces, across the width of the road. He picked up the frayed ends, and examined them.

He voiced his findings, loudly enough for the other men to hear. "There was a trip rope strung across the road."

There, a trail was etched in the dust, one that was consistent with something, or someone, being dragged. The trail extended from the center of the road, off to the left side, and stopped where the road gave way to the dense California brush.

Without a word, he stood and followed the trail in the dust.

His cohorts followed him.

As he left the road and pushed aside some low hanging branches to enter the woods, he moved slowly, in case danger lurked ahead. He sniffed the air, and picked up two distinct smells.

One was the scent of the forest: soil, blooming plants and dampness.

The other was the dense, metallic scent of blood.

He coughed, and braced himself. As he moved deeper into the brush, the smell of blood became stronger.

Behind him, he could hear Derrick praying, a soft spoken entreaty to God for the life of young Miss Smart. At a time like this, he certainly didn't begrudge the minister his prayers.

He stepped around a large oak, and the sound of moving water filled the air. He knew there was a creek out here, and knowing they were getting close to it helped him determine their approximate location.

As he eased along the banks of the narrow creek, he glanced around, searching the sun dappled forest for any sign of Miss Smart, or her assailants.

His foot caught something, and he tripped. He nearly went crashing face first into the creek, but he caught himself, bracing against an old, fallen tree to steady his balance.

"Hold on!" He wanted to warn the other men, before they tripped over the same root or branch, or whatever it was that had tripped him.

Derrick and Thad, still a few feet behind him, halted in their steps.

Noah searched the forest floor for whatever had made him lose his balance.

What he saw made his vision blur with horror.

It had not been a branch or a root after all.

It was a leg.

He stooped down, brushing aside the dead leaves and pine straw until he revealed the rest of Miss Smart. She lay in the cold, damp soil, her eyes closed.

Thad and Derrick ran to his side, and helped uncover her still form. All the while, Derrick continued to pray. "Heavenly Father, please allow your daughter a little more time among the living."

When they'd moved everything aside, Noah gasped. In his days as a lawman, he'd seen some pretty ugly things. But this was definitely the worst of it.

Janice's form was naked, save for a badly torn, blood stained corset, which did little to conceal her breasts. There was considerable swelling around her jaw, and her head rested in a pool of congealing blood.

Thad, obviously unable to handle such a sight, turned away. "I'll go back into town for the Doc." He fled, leaving Noah and Derrick alone to tend to the schoolteacher.

Wishing he could have stopped such a travesty from occurring in the first place, Noah pushed his emotions aside and performed his duty. Despite how still and pale she looked, there was still hope. He touched the side of her throat to check for a pulse.

As Derrick prayed fervently to the heavens above, Noah felt a faint, but steady beat beneath his fingers. Leaning near her face, he could feel the soft warmth of her shallow breath on his cheek. With a deep sigh, he reported, "She's alive."

Derrick closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you, merciful God." He opened his eyes again, and turned to him. "What can we do for our sister now?"

Noah was already removing his coat. "We cover her, keep her warm. That's all we can do until Thad comes back with the doc, and a wagon." He draped the coat over her, leaving her face uncovered so she could get what little air she was able to draw.

As they sat there on the damp ground, watching over Miss Smart and waiting for help to arrive, he tried to control his emotions. The river of anger raging inside him was a stark contrast to the calm, babbling flow of the creek in front of him. How someone could be so brutal, so crass, and so cruel to a sweet person like Miss Smart was beyond his realm of understanding. She was a schoolteacher for Heaven's sake, a pillar of town, and a doting caretaker for a child not her own. She didn't deserve to be treated this way; ravaged and left for dead in some lonely forest.

He had no idea how long it took for Thad to return with Doc Wilkins, but by the time the mayor's son and the old Doc arrived, Noah was fairly seething. As Derrick, the Doc, and Thad carefully lifted Janice and got her into the Doc' wagon, he strode to Justice. The stallion stood obediently rooted to the spot he'd left him.

After he'd made sure Miss Smart was secured, he turned his horse toward town and took off at full gallop.

Posse or not, he wasn't going to stand for this is his own town.

He would get the bastards that had done this to Miss Smart, come hell or high water.

# CHAPTER 10

Sitting in the parlor of the apartment, Valerie held Adam close to her heart. Mercifully, he'd fallen asleep, and that had given her respite from all the questions he'd been peppering her with about his Aunt Janice. She had no idea what to say to the child, but did her best to keep him calm and comfortable.

Across from her, Prudence was standing near the front window, looking down on Founder's Avenue. The drawn, tired expression on Prudence's face belied the long day she'd spent worrying about Janice's whereabouts.

Valerie released a pent up sigh as she cradled Adam's head to her chest. She was just as worried as they were about Janice, who was a good friend and a venerable educator for the children of Ridgeway. She hoped with everything in her that they would locate Janice, and bring her home safe.

Prudence spoke, breaking the heavy silence. "Noah's riding up the road, at top speed. Something's going on."

Valerie wanted to jump up, and join her at the window to see what was happening out there. Not wanting to wake Adam, she whispered, "Come and put him in my bed, then we'll go down there."

Prudence came over, and scooped the child into her arms. Once they'd tucked him into Valerie's bed, and let Bernard and Doris know they were leaving, they both dashed down the back steps and through the gate.

By then, Noah was hitching his stallion to the post outside the sheriff's office. Valerie rushed to his side, with Prudence on her heels. Curious citizens were milling about on the walk, and all eyes were on Noah.

Noah's angry expression gave her pause. His face was as red as a strawberry, and his mouth twisted into a scowl. She knew whatever news he was about to deliver would not be good.

Clearing his throat, he addressed the crowd of onlookers. "We've found Miss Smart."

Behind her, she heard Prudence let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he was quiet, as if hesitating to say more.

Then he continued. "She's alive, but in dire need of medical attention."

"What happened to her?" The question came from Prissy, who stood on the plank walk in front of the library.

He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid she's been... assaulted and left for dead."

A collective gasp rose from the townsfolk assembled along the street. Valerie could hear some of the women weeping, and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to contain her own sob. Thinking of the horror Janice must have experienced put a pain in her chest and sent a chill down her back.

"Our own schoolteacher? Defiled by some cretin?" The angry words were shouted by Rod Emerson, the town carpenter, who held his fist in the air. "I've got a wife, a daughter, and a granddaughter, and I won't stand for it!"

As shouts of agreement rang out around her, Valerie couldn't help but wonder where all the commotion would lead. She hoped everything could be settled in a civil manner, but deep inside, she harbored her own anger at the situation. As a woman, she wanted to feel safe walking the streets of her own town. That wasn't possible with common brutes stalking about, taking advantage of innocent ladies.

Noah raised his hand and his voice to calm the assemblage. "I assure you, I'm just as mad as you are. Justice will be served on the disgusting excuse for a man who did this to our schoolmarm. I promise." His words were laced with venom and deadly intent.

The crowd erupted into shouts once again, and it sounded so loud that Valerie was tempted to plug her ears with her fingertips.

Then, a sudden hush fell over the group.

Only the sound of an approaching wagon could be heard. All eyes shifted toward the opposite end of Town Road.

Doc Wilkins was driving up, with Thaddeus Stern on the seat behind him.

Silence reigned as the wagon turned the corner at the intersection, and came to halt in front of the clinic.

Everyone began to move toward the clinic. Valerie hesitated, but Prudence caught her hand and pulled her along.

It took a few long moments to navigate through the crowd, but they finally arrived at the wagon, just as Doc Wilkins and Thad were climbing down from the seat.

"Ladies, I'd advise you to stay back," Thad warned as they approached.

Prudence shook her head. Defiance in her voice, she insisted, "I must see her."

Still clutching her hand, Valerie slowly stepped up to the side of the old wagon, and looked into the bed.

Prudence wailed.

There lay Janice, pale and bleeding, covered by a man's coat. Her face was so swollen it appeared misshapen, and her eyes were shut.

Seeing Janice in such a state made her stomach lurch and roil. Stepping back, she snatched her hand away from Prudence and ran to the grassy field beside the clinic to be sick.

When she composed herself, she returned to the wagon. By now, Rod Emerson and Noah were helping holding a cloth stretcher as Doc Wilkins and Thad moved Janice from the bed. As she watched, Doc Wilkins rushed ahead to unlock the clinic door, then swung it open. Janice's still form was carried inside, and the door was shut.

Prudence was still crying, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Who would do such a thing to Janice? "

Valerie opened her arms, and extended what comfort she could to her friend. "I don't know, but I won't feel safe until whoever did this is either dead, or rotting in a cell."

As she held Prudence close to her, her eyes raked over the crowd. Men were brandishing pistols and shotguns. Women were huddled together in groups, some crying, some talking in low voices. Children were being ushered into the diner or the hotel, the only two businesses in town open on Sunday.

Seeing one sandy haired boy being pulled into the Taylor Hotel, she thought of Adam, sleeping upstairs in her bed. What would become of him? Someone had to take care of him while his aunt was on the mend, and from what she'd seen of her injuries, the healing process would likely be long and difficult.

As if reading her mind, Prudence raised her head. "Oh my Lord. Whatever will we tell Adam? We can't let him see his aunt this way."

A male voice behind her interjected. "Tell him she's ill, and needs to stay at the clinic for a while."

Valerie turned to see Noah standing there. Some of the anger had drained from his face, but his features were still tight.

Prudence nodded. "I'm going back inside. I'll talk to Adam. Let me know when I can see her, please."

"Doc will send Mary around when she's ready for visitors." Noah touched the brim of his hat as Prudence skittered away.

Left alone with Noah, Valerie didn't wait for an invitation. She needed his strength right now, so she pressed her body against his, and draped her arms around his waist. "What's become of our peaceful little town, Noah?"

He embraced her, then rested his chin on the crown of her head. "I don't know. But I'll see to it that we get our peace back. No matter what."

As the late September breeze wafted around them, they held each other close.

**

Noah did his best to remain calm, as he sat near the front of the lobby in the Taylor Hotel, listening to Mayor Stern ramble on. Because the town was without a proper hall for meetings, like the emergency town meeting now in progress, the Taylor Hotel staff rearranged the space to accommodate the crowd.

Dressed in one of his expensive navy suits from back East, Mayor Stern paced the floor in front of the assemblage as he spoke. The bald top of his head glistened with sweat, and he wrung his hands in an incessant, maddening way.

"So, what I'm trying to say is, in light of the recent events that have taken place in our town, I feel a change is necessary, to ensure the safety of our citizens."

Noah folded his arms across his chest as applause sounded in the room. He and his deputy had established that fact already, and he was losing patience with this drawn-out speech. The Mayor had always had a tendency to talk in circles, but with Miss Smart lying broken and defiled in the clinic at this very moment, Noah had no patience for his bluster.

"That's why, effective immediately, I've decided to resign as mayor. I've grown too old to deal with this type of madness, and I give my best wishes to whoever occupies the post next." The words tumbled from the Mayor's mouth like a torrent of water, and an awkward silence fell in the room as the townsfolk processed the declaration.

Noah, however, understood immediately. "So, you would leave us without leadership in a time like this?"

By then, the Mayor and his wife were already heading for the exit. "Like I said, I'm too old for this madness." With those words, he and Ella disappeared into the night.

Noah ran a hand over his face. Of all the foolish, pigheaded things to do.

A man stood in the audience. "I nominate Bernard Ridgeway as our new mayor."

Bernard, sitting near the center of the assemblage, stood to his feet. "As the son of the town's founder, I accept the nomination."

As sheriff, Noah knew the town charter gave him the power to oversee emergency elections. So he turned to those in attendance. "All in favor of Bernard Ridgeway for mayor, say 'Aye.'"

The response was a thunderous one, as the townsfolk gave Bernard their seal of approval.

Noah smiled. "All opposed, say 'Nay.'"

Silence.

"The ayes have it, and so shall it be." Noah extended his hand, and Bernard joined him in front. With a firm shake, he congratulated him. "So, Mayor Ridgeway, what is your first official act as mayor?"

Bernard didn't hesitate. "My first act is to call a posse for the protection of our citizens. Now, we'll need to do this on a volunteer basis until the budget is straightened out. Who will volunteer?"

"I will."

Noah shifted his gaze to the source of the sound, and was surprised to see Thaddeus Stern standing there.

"I thought you'd gone with your parents." Bernard's tone said he was just as shocked as Noah.

Thad shook his head. "I was born and raised in Ridgeway, and I'll be honored to help protect it, even if my Pa ain't inclined to do so."

Bernard gave him a pleased smile. "Then, welcome aboard, Officer Stern. Who else will help me protect our citizens?"

More men stood, and soon there was a reasonable force of four men: Thad, Rod Emerson, Ricardo Benigno, and the young Uriah Stevens. Uriah was a boy of about twenty, and as green as spring grass, but Noah respected the courage it must have taken for him to volunteer.

With Greg, Noah's deputy, and all the new volunteers assembled at the front, Bernard spoke again. "Citizens of Ridgeway, meet your light horseman force. Sheriff, they're all yours."

As the sounds of applause and cheers grew so loud they shook the building, Noah shook hands with each of the men. They were his friends and neighbors, and he was honored they'd chosen to serve alongside he and Greg.

When the meeting let out, the men stayed behind with Noah and Greg to be briefed on their new duties.

Greg asked, "So, are all of you in possession of a firearm?"

All the men gave affirmative answers.

"And all of you are able to operate those firearms?" Noah waited for an answer.

This time, all the men answered yes, except for Uriah, the youngest of the group. He was looking down at the Oriental rug covering the floor, as if he were ashamed.

Noah patted him on the back. "Don't worry. Between me, Deputy Simmons, and the other officers, we'll get you trained in no time."

"I'll be glad of it." Uriah's voice was very quiet as he spoke. "Since I'm the man of the house, Mama will be glad I'm able to fire on intruders if need be."

Noah knew that Uriah's mother was a widow. "Don't worry. We'll get you taken care of."

Greg interjected. "We'll get the smithy to make you all up some silver stars to wear. Uniform is denims, white shirt, and vest or overcoat. I've got a few spare hats in the supply closet you all can wear."

"First thing tomorrow, we'll meet at the festival grounds for some firearms training." Noah stood. "Ricardo and Uriah, you'll work the day shift tomorrow with me. Rod and Thad, you'll do the night with Gregory. We'll rotate next week."

When all the details were settled, a weary Noah went home to seek out the solace of his bed.

# CHAPTER 11

The crowd was much thinner inside Ruby's Diner than it usually was on a weekday, and Valerie couldn't help noticing all the empty tables as she made her way to the back, near the window overlooking the duck pond.

Ruby ambled over, removing the pen behind her ear and readying her small pad of paper. "What you having today, Miss Valerie? The usual?"

Valerie nodded. "I'm looking forward to some of that delicious tomato soup. But I'm waiting for Noah to join me."

Ruby winked. "I knew you'd get on well with that handsome sheriff of ours. I'll come back in a bit."

After Ruby was gone, Valerie fixed her eyes on the glassy surface of the pond. There were a few mallards splashing about, and she took in the scene, hoping it would calm her nerves. In the four days since Janice had been found, she'd barely left the mercantile. Her father had insisted she stay inside while the new light horsemen settled into their job. She'd understood his concern, in fact, she'd shared it. Still, it felt good to be out of the house, especially since she was meeting Noah on his lunch break.

The bell over the door chimed, and she shifted her gaze toward the door.

There he was, looking as handsome as ever in his regular uniform. As he slipped the Stetson from his head, he revealed that glorious head of blond locks, the striking blue eyes, and the strong, manly features of his face.

When their eyes met, he gifted her with a bone-melting smile, then began striding in her direction. Moments later, he slid into the chair across from her. "Afternoon, Valerie."

She could feel the heat burning her face as she returned his greeting. "How are you today, Noah?"

"A little tired, but I'm doing much better now that I'm with you." He reached across the table, capturing her trembling hand in his large, sure one.

She held his gaze, sinking into the mesmerizing beauty of those eyes.

"Ahem."

She looked up to see Ruby standing over them, grinning. "Look at you two." She placed two tumblers of cool water on the table, then readied her pencil again. "What'll it be?"

After Noah ordered his roast beef sandwich and Saratoga chips, Ruby sauntered away, leaving them alone again.

They ate their meal together in relative silence, with a bit of banter about the food and the weather. She wondered how he must be feeling, considering the events of the past week. Even with the new posse her father had installed, the large part of the responsibility for keeping the people of Ridgeway safe still rested on his shoulders. She wondered also how he felt about their relationship, now that he knew she could bear him no sons. He's shown little reaction when she told him, and hadn't mentioned it since, leaving her with no indication of his feelings.

When they'd finished eating, she set her empty tumbler down. "Do you have to be back soon?"

He pulled a gold pocket watch from the inside of his vest, then shook his head. "I've got a little bit of time. Let's go out to the pond. The men are still training at the festival grounds."

After he paid their ticket, he stood and extended his arm. "Shall we?"

She took his offered arm, as she smiled at the gentlemanly gesture. They left the diner, and retreated behind the building.

She could hear the sounds of the men firing their weapons a few miles away as they sat down in a soft spot in the grass on the pond's edge. He sat to her right, and she leaned her body against his, enjoying the comfort of his solid, steady presence. He draped an arm casually around her shoulder, and she inhaled the masculine scent of leather and tobacco exuding from him.

She let her eyes focus on the water, where a mother mallard and her ducklings were busy gliding along the glassy surface. Their rhythmic movements did much to soothe her busy mind.

"I will catch whoever assaulted Miss Smart. I want you to know that." His sudden declaration broke the silence.

She turned her eyes up to him. "I have every confidence that you will, Noah."

The hard lines of his face softened at her words. "I appreciate that. But I do have something to request of you."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll keep yourself safe until these brutes are caught." His eyes held such seriousness, it gave her pause. "Don't walk or ride alone in the darkness, and always be aware of your surroundings, alright?"

She nodded, noting how relieved he looked to have her agree. "I'll do my best."

"Good." He caught her chin in his hand, and lifted it gently. "Because if anything ever happened to you, I couldn't bear it."

She trembled, and before she could form a response to his sweet words, his brought her up to his kiss.

As his lips crushed against hers, she became lost in the sensation. Her insides seemed to be melting as he drew her even closer to the muscled lines of his body, his tongue delving into the cavern of her mouth.

All sense of time and place fell away, until there was nothing in existence but the two of them, and his magical presence.

When he pulled away, she was breathless, dazed.

"Noah, about my being barren..."

With a brief shake of his head, he dismissed her. "We don't have to talk about it."

She sighed. "I want to know how you feel."

His arms still around her, he averted his eyes. "I don't know how I feel about that. But I do know how I feel about you." There was something in his voice, a slight change in tone she could detect, but couldn't define.

She felt the tears coming to her eyes. "Noah."

Releasing her from his embrace, he stood. "I must get back to work. If I stay..." he paused, letting his eyes convey his desire, "I may never go back."

That started the trembling again, but doing her best to ignore it, she responded quietly. "I understand. I'll see you later, Noah."

He touched the brim of his Stetson, and with a few long strides across the grassy field, he was gone.

Valerie remained at the pond for several long moments, not wanting to get up. As she gazed at the mallards, and listened to the soft sounds of the insects and the wind, she replayed the kiss in her mind, over and over again.

**

Rifling through the papers in the lower drawer of his desk, Noah, pulled out several documents and lay them across his desk. Finally, after all the tedium of filing paperwork, he'd found some cogent use for it.

He thumbed through the copies of reports that had been filed in the neighboring towns. Each month, the sheriff in Oakland, which was twenty miles to their west, as well as the lawman in Marysville, located across the Sacramento River from Ridgeway, sent their report filings to him, and he responded in kind. The idea was to pick up on trends in crime that might lead to major arrests.

When he'd been on the road outside of town the day Miss Smart had been found, seeing the broken trip rope had triggered something in his memory. He'd read about a similar recent incident in one of the neighboring towns. He couldn't recall where the crime had happened, but he remembered the report.

He spent a few moments skimming the text of the each report until he came across the one he was looking for. It was from Oakland, referring to an incident that had taken place less than three weeks prior to Miss Smart's assault.

Report Date: September 2,1883

Taken by: G. Vickers, Deputy Sheriff

A female citizen, Miss Clara Kane, asserts that she was riding alone at dusk, returning home from her family visit. Her horse fell victim to sudden injury- upon inspection the beast's forelegs were injured by a rope, which had been strung taut across the road. Hearing some sounds, Miss Kane ran back toward town, and was pursued. However when she reached the town borders, and engaged another citizen leaving the saloon, the unknown assailants fled.

Actions Taken: Increased evening patrols by sheriff and appointed deputies, Miss Kane advised not to travel alone.

The case was eerily similar to Miss Smart's, save for the fact that Miss Kane had been lucky enough to escape such horrid treatment. Setting the report aside, he shuffled his small stack of wanted posters.

One caught his attention. His lawman's instinct began vibrating through him, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck perk up as his mind processed the information.

The poster had the sketches of three men, known as The Bitters Gang. Beneath the men's portraits were lists of their accused offenses. The first, "Crazy Charlie" Paul, was wanted for horse theft and armed robbery. The second, "Mad Joe" Nims, was wanted for attempted rape, assault on a female, and public drunkenness. Bud Bitters, the leader, was wanted for a long list of wrongdoing, including cattle rustlings, unpaid bar tabs, armed robbery, and more.

Noah shook his head as he perused the charges. It seemed these three deviants aspired to the lofty goal of committing every crime known to man. He noticed that of all the crimes that had recently taken place in Ridgeway, each man in the gang had been accused of one of them in the past. Could it be that the notorious Thieving Three had set their sights on terrorizing his sleepy little town?

He sat back in the chair, rubbing his cupped palm across his chin. He recalled the night Henry Carl's stallions had been stolen, as well as the snatching of Miss Parker's handbag. Whoever had stolen Ray's horses had been riding one of them when the purse snatching occurred, as the distinct Ridgeway Livery markings from the horseshoes had been left in the road.

The door swung open as Ricardo returned from his coffee break. "Any new breakthroughs?" Ricardo eased into the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"I think we're dealing with these nary-do-wells." He slid the wanted poster over the surface of the desk, toward Ricardo.

Picking up the poster and examining it closely, the Spaniard shook his head. "Bitters' Gang, eh? I've heard of them. They're bad news, the lot of them."

"I know. And I've got a feeling they will be back for more."

"Don't worry. When they come back, we'll be ready." Ricardo's lips thinned, and he folded his arms over his chest. "No way are we letting them victimize anyone else in our town."

Noah took a deep breath. Knowing that someone else was helping to shoulder the burden of the town's safety did much to ease his troubled mind. He rose from his desk, with the poster in hand, and strode over to the small closet near the hallway leading to the cells. After rifling around inside the semi-dark space for a few moments, he found what he was after: a hammer, and a small box of nails.

"What are you about to do?" Ricardo rose from his chair, and followed him as he went to the wooden board mounted just outside the office door.

"Something I've never had to do before. Hang a Wanted poster."

"Can I help?"

"Here, hold the nail."

Ricardo's brow furrowed.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't smash your finger."

With a bit of hesitation, Ricardo did as he was asked.

Before Noah could drive the nail, however, a female voice called out to him.

"Excuse me, Sheriff."

Both men turned to see Mary McKee, Doc Wilkin's nurse, standing there on the walk.

She spoke again, in her soft, quiet way. "Miss Smart is awake. The doctor wants you to talk to her."

Noah handed the hammer over to Ricardo. "Looks like your fingers are safe from me for now. Hang the poster, then wait for me here."

Ricardo nodded. "Give her my best."

Reaching inside the door for his hat, Noah placed it on his head, then followed Miss McKee over to Doc Wilkins' clinic.

Inside the space, he removed his hat again, and hung it on the coat rack near the entrance door. Following where Mary led, he was brought to the room in the back where Miss Smart was convalescing.

The small room was lit by a stream of light flowing from the single small window in the back wall. Other than that, the space was fairly dark. In the center of the room, Janice lay on a short-legged bed, with Doc Wilkins sitting next to her on a wooden stool.

"Sheriff, she's been talking a lot, and I think you ought to hear what she's saying." The aged doctor gestured to his patient, who lay with her eyes closed, mumbling something.

Noah grabbed an empty chair, and slid it close to the bed before sitting down. He looked over the schoolmarm, and was glad to see that a good deal of the swelling in her face had gone down. As a result, she looked more like herself, which he saw as a good sign. "How is she doing, Doc?"

"Fairly well, considering what she's been through." Doc Wilkins sighed. "She suffered some internal damage to her female parts, from the ravaging, and I've treated her as best I can for that. Odds are she won't be able to bear young ones." He rose, fetching a damp cloth from a basin, and laid it on her brow. "Someone also struck her in the back of the head, and she suffered some trauma from that as well."

He shook his head. Because of some crass brute's unspeakable acts, Miss Smart might be barren. He wondered what would become of her, so he asked. "What kind of effect has all this had on her?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I'm a family practitioner, so this isn't my area of specialty." Doc Wilkins pushed his copper rimmed spectacles up his nose. "From my brief study, though, I can deduce that she's suffering from amnesia of some kind. She doesn't seem to know where she is, but she's been mumbling a lot. Every so often, she screams."

She coughed, a rattling sound from deep within her petite frame. Then a string of words tumbled out in a rush.

Noah's brow furrowed. "What is she saying?"

Doc Wilkins shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't been able to make any sense of it."

Noah nodded. Doc was a skilled physician, but he was also getting on in years; his hearing wasn't the best. Noah looked to Janice, hoping she would speak again, and he could make out what she said.

Her eyes remained shut. She spoke again, and he understood her clearly. "Don't be so rough on her, Joe. Save some for me!" As the words left her, she writhed on the bed, as if fighting off some unseen assailant. Her legs kicking and her hips twisting, she clawed at the thin sheet covering her.

"That's it." The old doctor covered his mouth with a hand. "Sweet Lord in heaven."

Her private horror seemed to pass for a moment, and she stilled. The next sound that came from Janice's mouth was a deep, heavy sob.

As she wept quietly, her eyes still closed, Noah felt his chest tighten. He knew the Christian tenets stressed forgiveness and mercy, but as he looked upon his neighbor, suffering from so much inner turmoil, he could muster neither for the people who had done this to her. His jaw in a hard set, he rose from his chair. "Thanks for calling me around, Doc." Part of him wanted to rush out, because it was so difficult seeing Miss Smart this way, but he paused. "Do you think she'll ever be herself again?"

"Physically, her wounds are healing. As for her mind, there's no way to tell." Doc Wilkins looked up at him, his expression grim. "I've wired a psychiatrist over in Stockton. He'll arrive in town in the next few days ."

He nodded, then left the way he'd come in, snatching his hat from the rack on his way out.

Even though she didn't know it, Janice had just confirmed his suspicions.

Bud Bitters' gang was responsible for all the chaos that had befallen his town, and they were going to pay with their lives.

# CHAPTER 12

Wiping the back of her hand over her brow, Valerie set her paintbrush down in the empty can. Looking over her work, she felt quite pleased with herself. It was Thursday evening, just past seven, and she and the remaining members of the Ladies' Society had gathered in the old millinery shop to help Lilly make the final touches for the opening of her new dress shop. Behind her, Lilly, Prissy, and Prudence were busy with various tasks.

Seated in a chair near the door was Deputy Simmons. Noah had insisted the deputy keep watch over the all-female gathering, for protection. Considering the recent events in and around town, none of the women had objected. He'd barely spoken the entire time, instead seeming content to read from the open book in his lap.

She sidestepped and gazed out the window. Outside, the sky had taken on the ominous dark gray that preceded a storm. A clap of thunder sounded, and she knew the storm wasn't too far off. "We'd better finish up, girls."

Lilly gathered up the old cloths that had been protecting the floor from paint splatters. "You're right."

Gregory spoke, but didn't look up from his book. "Weather's taking an ugly turn. You ladies better pack it in."

A flash of lightning punctuated his words.

Prudence and Prissy appeared, dragging Lilly's sewing table from the storeroom in the back of the building.

Prissy leaned against the oak table. "Where do you want this?"

Lilly waved her hand. "We'll see about it later. We need to get on home before the weather gets too bad."

The two women pushed the table against the far wall, and before they could even get it in place, the sky opened. From her vantage point at the window, Valerie could see the fat, heavy raindrops falling diagonally outside. "Oh, boy. Think we can wait it out?"

Gregory put his book aside and stood, straightening the heavy looking gun-belt around his waist. He came to stand next to Valerie, and observed the scene outside. "It's pretty rough out there. We'd better wait a bit, see if it's just a passing squall."

Valerie wiped her hands on the old apron covering her denims and work shirt, hoping to remove a bit of the white paint. She and the other girls tidied up as they waited for the storm to pass, or at least calm enough for them to get out of the building.

When they'd put away their supplies, they all gathered behind Gregory, taking seats on one of the cloth draped tables Lilly would be using to display some of her goods.

No one spoke.

The wind howled like an angry wolf as big raindrops continued to fall, pelting the roof and windows like tiny stones. Thunder rumbled just overhead, signaling how close the storm was. Every few moments, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the darkened sky.

In the past, Valerie had taken pleasure in thunderstorms. The sounds of nature had always brought about a sense of peace for her, and she'd often curl up in her window seat and take a nap as the storm raged outside.

But this storm was different.

There was something ominous in the swirling winds, heavy rains, and the rolling thunder. A dark, frightening edge that she'd never felt before.

No, this wasn't just an autumn thunderstorm, passing through town to water the crops.

This storm seemed more like an omen.

In the semi- darkness of Lilly's shop, she raised her hand to her chest, and covered her heart with it.

Something terrible was coming to Ridgeway, something much more frightening than a storm.

In time, the sounds of the thunder grew fainter, and the rain slackened a bit.

Prissy broke the silence. "Lordy. Feels like I been holding my breath this whole time."

The others nodded in agreement, and Valerie wondered if they all felt the same sense of foreboding that had filled her. Thinking it better not to ask, lest she upset her friends, she kept her feelings to herself.

Gregory clapped his hands together. "Alright, ladies. Into your cloaks so I can get you all home."

As the girls shrugged into their outer garments, Lilly stifled a yawn. "I don't feel like riding all the way out to the farm. I'll take a room over at the Taylor."

Prudence, who lived even a bit farther from town, giggled. "I'll be your room mate."

Gregory opened the door, and held it for them. "After you, ladies."

They filed outside, with Valerie going last. The softly falling rain felt cool on her face as they all crossed the street toward the Taylor Hotel.

Once Gregory had seen Lilly and Prudence safely inside, he turned to her. "Miss Valerie, I'll see you to the mercantile, then I'll escort Miss Parker home."

She nodded, and the three of them crossed the road in the opposite direction. A short trip down the walk brought them to the mercantile. Waving to Prissy and the deputy, she ascended the stairs to the upper apartment.

Bernard was sitting in the kitchen, with a lit oil lantern and an open issue of _Fireside Companion_ on the table. Next to his periodical was a steaming cup of coffee. "Evening, Val."

"Hi, Papa." She leaned down to kiss his brow. "Where's Mama?"

"Already gone to bed. You know how storms make her sleepy." He sipped a bit of the brew.

Valerie yawned. "They make me sleepy, too. Goodnight, Papa."

"G'night, honey."

She squeezed his shoulders briefly, then slipped down the hallway to her room.

While she lay in her warm bed, the rain continued to fall outside. As the remnants of the storm lingered on, so did the odd feeling of dread. Doing her best to dismiss it, she pounded her feather pillow a bit, then lay back down and waited for sleep to claim her.

**

Draining the last of his morning coffee, Noah set the cup down on his desk, setting eyes on the two men across from him.

Greg was reclining comfortably in a chair, while the nervous looking Uriah Stevens paced back and forth, wringing his hands.

"Uriah. Stop that before you wear a trench in my floor." Noah kept his eye on the young man, who had been pacing ever since his shift had begun a quarter of an hour ago.

"Sorry." Uriah halted his steps, and dragged over an empty chair from the stack kept in one corner of the office. Sitting down, he managed to be still for only a few moments before he started wringing his hands again.

"Alright. I'm going over to Cedarville to pick up the doctor coming in from Stockton."

Greg's face registered his confusion. "Why can't he just take the stage?"

Noah shook his head. "I've been wiring back and forth with the sheriffs in all the neighboring towns, and we've agreed to stop the stagecoach service until we smoke out the Bitters gang. No need to tempt them into committing more crimes."

Greg nodded. "Sounds reasonable. How'd the coachmen take the news?"

"They hate to lose business, of course, but they know the risk is just too high with those ruthless cads skulking about."

Uriah grunted. "We'll catch 'em soon, Sheriff. They gotta slip up sometime."

"I shouldn't be gone but a few hours. Uriah, you're in the office today. Greg, patrol the perimeter of the town, and be on the lookout for anything, and I mean anything, that doesn't look right to you."

Uriah groaned like a child denied a piece of penny candy. "Desk duty again? When are you going to let me go out on patrol?"

Noah looked at the young man, in his blue plaid shirt and denims. He was a bit on the lanky side, but he was tall, and could sit a horse with confidence. "I don't think you're ready for patrols just yet, Officer Stevens."

The young man folded his arms across his chest. "I've been practicing with my sidearm on my own, even after practicing with you. I can do this. Just give me a chance, will ya?"

Noah looked to Greg, who shrugged. "Worse case, he gets plugged, best case, he comes back in one piece. Either way, he'll have done a patrol, and he'll quit pestering us."

"Fine. Greg, you work the office. Uriah, patrol the borders." Noah locked his gaze with that of his youngest light horseman. "But be careful out there. I don't want Mrs. Stevens having to put you in the ground."

"I will." Uriah couldn't seem to sit still, and began squirming in his seat.

Greg rose and went to the storage closet, returning with a gun belt. He tossed the leather belt at Thad, who caught it. "Well, your reflexes are all right. You might have to add another notch to that thing, to get it to fit your narrow waist."

Uriah got to his feet, and tried the belt. It was too big, until he used the tip of his pocket knife to add a hole that made it fit perfectly. With the belt on, he inserted his pocket knife, as well as the Colt he'd had tucked into his waistband, into slots on the belt. When he finished, his face was beaming with pride.

Noah couldn't help smiling. While he still had his reservations about letting Uriah do a patrol, he remembered what it was like to be a green lawman, just itching for some action. He hoped for Uriah's sake that it proved to be a quiet day.

Rising from his desk, he gathered his pack, shrugged into his long duster, and placed his hat atop his head. "Greg, see that Officer Stevens is properly outfitted. See you two later this morning." With a wave, he stepped out into the still-dark morning.

It was just before sunrise, and as he dropped his pack onto the seat of his old wagon, he could see the band of light hanging low on the horizon. He was getting an early start on purpose, so he could be away from town for as short a time as possible. Buggy traffic on the main roads between towns would only increase after the breakfast hour, so by leaving now, he hoped to beat the rush.

Climbing up on the seat, he snapped the reins and urged Justice forward.

**

Valerie hitched up her voluminous silk skirts and ran as if her life depended on it, because, as far as she could tell, it did. All the odd feelings she'd had during last night's storm now seemed perfectly justified. The street, filled with the muddy remains of yesterday's rains, hampered her speed, but she dared not stop her flight. Behind her, someone was there, bearing down on her like the very hounds of Hell.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that one of them was chasing her. The man, with his long, dirty blonde hair peaking from beneath a battered bowler, was a few yards behind her. Seeing him so close spurred her on, and she picked up her pace. If she'd had it to do over, she'd have chosen a simple day dress instead of the traveling costume that was now weighing her down.

Two more bandits had exited the Ridgeway Savings and Loan, filling the saddlebags of their horses with the hard-earned money of the townsfolk. Seeing her step out the newspaper office, where she'd gone to give her opinion on her father's new position as mayor, they'd given chase. She had no idea what made them target her, but she assumed they thought her wealthy because of her fine dress and fancy heeled slippers. She cursed the infernal things now; while fashionable, they were not made for running.

All around her, chaos reigned. Gunshots rang out, sending frightened horses and other beasts scurrying about. Women hurried inside the butcher's shop, pulling their children along to seek safety. Men of the town raised their rifles to defend their families and businesses. Henry Carl, the blacksmith, stood on his stoop, his Colt 1877 aimed.

"Look out, Miss Valerie!"

As she ducked away, Carl fired a shot that clipped the leg of her pursuer. The man cursed a blue streak while the bullet whizzed into the side of the library, splintering the wood.

Sending a silent but sincere thanks to her neighbor, she headed for the mercantile, where she dearly hoped her parents were safely inside. Even though he was the newly elected mayor, Bernard insisted on continuing to run his store, as opposed to "sitting on his duff" in the mayor's office.

Valerie saw the mercantile door swing open. Her barrel chested father stepped onto the plank walk, a pistol in each hand. Relieved beyond measure, she crashed into him as he folded one arm around her, keeping the other pistol trained on her pursuer. She wept her fear into his shoulder, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. "Compose yourself, my dear. We have guests." He was normally an easygoing fellow, but today, his steely tone made it clear he was a man prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect what belonged to him.

A second later, Valerie heard the telltale pop as a shell exploded from one of her father's pistols. The strong, acrid smell of the gunpowder filled her nostrils. She didn't have to look to know that the man chasing her had been felled. She heard his scream of pain and the thud of his body hitting the ground. Her face still buried in her father's chest, she heard him shout, "Where the hell are my lawmen?"

Deputy Simmons staggered out of the sheriff's office, clutching his shoulder. Blood spurted from behind his hand. His voice filled with pain, he shouted to those who passed him. "Somebody, ride for help!"

In answer, a female voice called out, "There's Sheriff Rogers!"

Raising her head, Valerie could see him off in the distance, coming from the edge of town. Where he had been this morning, she had no idea, but she dearly wished he'd been at his post this morning instead. He was astride the black stallion, leaning forward and galloping in fast.

Not fast enough. The cold, steady click of a shotgun being cocked drew her attention. Another of the bandits, this one with dark hair and even darker eyes, had a Winchester pressed into her father's back. With deadly intent in his voice, he barked, "Drop the pistols, fat man."

Her father, shaking like a leaf against her, did as he was asked. "We don't want no trouble," he managed to say.

The outlaw smiled, showing a mouth full of brown, rotting teeth. "I don't neither. Empty out your cash box and it won't be none." He was so close, she could smell his sour, rancid breath as he spoke.

She stepped back as her father gently nudged her, and watched with tears in her eyes as the cretin followed him inside. In a moment's time, he stepped back outside, with the store's deposit bag in his free hand.

Her heart sank. All her life, she'd seen her parents pour their souls into their business. As a little girl she'd helped her mama sweep up, and helped her father keep the inventory organized. How could this worthless outlaw just barge in and steal what her family had worked so hard for?

Noah rode up then, dismounting from his horse and leveling his Remington repeating rifle on the thief. "Drop the sack, Charlie."

Grinning, the outlaw held the bag closer to his body. "Oh, so you know me? Well, ain't that something? Old Crazy Charlie done finally arrived."

With cold eyes, Noah pumped his shotgun. "I ain't gonna ask you again."

At that moment, Doris trudged out of the store, rubbing her eyes. She walked towards her husband, inquiring in a sleepy voice, "What's all the commotion--"

Charlie barely turned his head toward Doris.

Bernard tried to reach for his wife. "Doris, don't..."

Two shotgun blasts pierced the air. Valerie squeezed her eyes shut against the carnage, and covered her ears to block the sound.

When she opened them again, what she saw made her hand fly to her mouth. A sob escaped anyway.

Her mother was sprawled in the street, and ever growing spot of blood soaking the abdomen of her blue gingham dress.

Nearby, the outlaw Charlie fell to the ground, cursing and clutching his arm. Blood also ran down his leg, where Carl's bullet must have grazed him.

She ran with her father to her mother's side. Kneeling next to her, Valerie put a hand gingerly beneath her mother's nose, hoping to feel the warmth of her breath.

No breath came.

She ran her eyes over her, looking for any sign of life.

There was none.

Another sob escaped her throat. She looked at her father and found his gaze hollow.

Noah approached, his expression grim. He removed his Stetson, holding it in front of him. "I'm mighty sorry, Mr. Ridgeway."

Her father only nodded in reply. She found she couldn't even manage that. All she could manage at the moment was to stare at her mother's face, wondering how to breathe life back into her.

Noah touched her shoulder, his hand holding the same gentleness he'd always shown her. "Valerie. Please forgive me. I'll see these fools to justice, I promise."

She never looked up, never acknowledged him. She simply continued to look on her mother.

Noah stepped back with a heavy sigh. "I'm hauling Charlie in on murder charges. I'll send Eunice around for the body." He replaced his hat, setting the brim low over his eyes, and slowly walked away.

They were left there, she and her father, kneeling in the mud by her mother's lifeless form . She knew her dress was ruined, but it didn't matter. Her father's quiet, rattling sobs tugged at her heart, increasing her pain. She'd lost a mother, and he'd lost the love of his life. How would they go on without the anchor of their family?

Soon, Eunice Stevens, the undertaker, came with her assistant Hattie. Over six feet tall, the plump, pear shaped Eunice looked even more imposing from the seat of her buckboard. Despite her appearance, Eunice was a kind woman who truly cared about her neighbors. She halted the team in front of the blacksmith shop and stepped down, with Hattie close behind.

Eunice and Hattie helped Bernard up first, then they assisted Valerie to her feet. Eunice lay a gentle hand on her back. "I'm so sorry, Miss Valerie. We'll fix Miss Doris up real nice for the services."

She felt herself being gently pulled away, and turned around to see Prissy's somber face. "Come now, Val. Let me get you cleaned up."

She allowed herself to be folded into Prissy's embrace as Eunice and Hattie lifted her mother's body from the mud, placing her gently in the flat bed of the old buckboard. Hattie placed a white covering over her, then climbed up on the seat next to her employer. Eunice touched the brim of her large feathered hat, then slapped the reins.

As the buckboard rattled down the muddy road, Valerie felt the world around her begin to revolve. Heat rushed to her face, and she swooned. Braced by Prissy's arms, she gave in and let herself be carried her away into oblivion.

# CHAPTER 13

With Charlie Ray locked up in one of the three cells in his office, Noah holstered his Remington repeating rifle in the sleeve strapped to his back.

"You ain't never gone catch Bud." Charlie's taunts echoed in the empty building, but Noah ignored him as he walked out, locking the door behind him. He didn't have time for such foolishness. One of his citizens was dead, and Bud was still out there, terrorizing folks. At least Bernard Ridgeway had done him the favor of killing Joe Nims; the man was known for his misdeeds against women. Who knew what horror would have befallen Miss Valerie had that deviant caught up to her.

"You should be glad I let Doc Wilkins patch you up, you worthless maggot. Now keep your opinions to yourself." Noah turned and strode up the short hall back toward his desk.

Prissy Parker marched into the office, her face set in an angry scowl. "That varmint that killed Mrs. Ridgeway is the same one who stole my purse, Sheriff."

He rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. "I'll add that to your report, Miss Parker."

She propped a fist on her hip. "I'd like a word with him, if I might." The expression on her face said that she had every intention of getting to Crazy Charlie, and was only asking him as a formality.

"Be my guest." He gestured to the hall leading to the cell block, and followed her as she marched down the corridor.

She stopped at Charlie's cell, and shook the bars. "You stole my purse, you brute."

Charlie, leaning against the back wall of the cell, only shrugged. "So what, you little heifer."

Narrowing her eyes, Prissy gave a come-hither gesture, curling her index finger. "Why don't you come a little closer, and say that again?"

As Noah watched in cautious amusement, Charlie took her up on the offer. As he half-sauntered, half-limped up to the bars, he opened his mouth, probably intending to say some other crass remark.

Before the outlaw could speak, however, Prissy rared back and swung. Her fist was small enough to fit through the bars, and since Charlie hadn't anticipated the blow, he had no time to dodge it. Her fist connected with his right eye, making a loud smack.

"Ow, damn it!" Charlie backed up, his hand over his eye. "Sheriff, you gonna let her get away with that?"

Noah shrugged. "I didn't see a thing. Let me escort you out, Miss Parker." He offered his bent arm.

She linked her arm with his, tossing back to the angry, sputtering Charlie, "Maybe that'll learn you some manners, you no-count varmint."

Outside on the walk, he gave her a small smile. "Mighty impressive aim back there, Miss Parker. I may have to deputize you."

With a chuckle, Prissy broke away from him. "Mama wouldn't have it, but thanks just the same for the compliment."

"How is Valerie holding up?" He couldn't let her leave without asking.

Prissy sighed. "She's crying a lot, won't take any food. I think she just needs time to process it all now."

Waving, she crossed the street and disappeared into the library.

As he stepped out into the growing darkness, he closed and locked the door behind him. Charlie wasn't going anywhere, and he had tasks to see to before he could form up a posse to go after Bud. He wanted to go to Valerie, to wrap his arms around her and give her comfort, but his duty took precedent. They had to catch Bud while the trail was still hot. If it rained, or got too windy, all his tracking skills would be useless. Dash it all, Bud Bitters was not going to get away with this.

Across Founder's Avenue, he went into the telegraph office to wire the marshal. It would likely take several days to a week for the marshal to arrive, and he wanted Charlie's filthy carcass out of his town as soon as possible. With that done, he headed toward the bank to survey the damage.

He strode through the wooden door, now hanging on one hinge, with its glass panel shattered. The broken shards crunched under the soles of his boots as he approached the counter.

Behind the tall counter sat the beleaguered banker Tim Parson. He sat slumped over his desk, with his head in his hands. For a moment, all Noah could see was the shiny bald patch atop Tim's head, until he looked up to acknowledge his presence.

Tim's voice sounded shaky and sad as he spoke. "Evening, Sheriff."

Noah touched his hat brim. "I'm sorry you're going through this, Parson." He looked around the bank's interior, taking in the chaos. The tall desks where patrons filled in their paperwork were overturned, and the floor was littered with scattered papers. "How much did they take?"

His eyes still focused on the desktop, Tim shook his head. "All of it, Sheriff. Five thousand and sixty dollars and seventy-eight cents of the people of Ridgeway's hard-earned money."

That made Noah's jaw fall into a hard set. He was glad he kept his money in his own home, but he felt angry on behalf of his citizens. "Don't worry. I'm going after Bud. I'll get the money back."

"I sure hope you do, Sheriff. If not, Ridgeway Savings and Loan is going out of business." Tim's shoulders slumped again, and he said no more. He simply stared at the cluttered surface of his desk.

Noah turned and left, the blood heating in his veins like water in a kettle. The list of Bud's offenses was as long as Town Road: inciting terror, robbery, and assault on an officer. He'd been the one to wound Deputy Simmons. Doc Wilkins had said Greg would be on the mend for at least several days from the bullet he'd taken trying to thwart the gang. Bud was going to pay for his crimes, and he was resolute in personally seeing the cad to justice.

There would be no sleep tonight. He strode back toward his office, and whistled for his horse. He knew Uriah would be busy helping his mother tend to Doris Ridgeway's body, so he knew his posse would be reduced to the remaining officers: Rod Emerson, Ricardo Benigno, and Thad Stern. Still, with the four of them against Bud Bitters, he liked their odds just fine.

Thinking of Thad made him wonder where the young man was. Now that the chaos of the day had calmed, he realized he hadn't seen Thad since he'd left town this morning.

When Justice trotted out of the corral behind his office and came near where he stood, he mounted up and rode toward the border of town. First, he'd search for Thad. Then, he'd round up his men so they could go after Bud, and there was no time to lose.

***

Outside the Ridgeway Mercantile, the doors remained shuttered in the days following Doris' death. Folks came by to pay their respects with flowers and handwritten notes, but no one knocked. Inside, a dark pallor settled over the store and the upper apartment as Valerie and Bernard tried to survive the loss of the heartbeat of their family.

Valerie sat in her room, staring into the dimness of the space. She was vaguely aware of the sliver of sunlight that split the heavy drapes, which had remained drawn shut since that horrible day. She made no move to open them, as she had no interest in whatever might be occurring outside her window. Her stomach growled from lack of food, but she ignored it. Sadness consumed her like a disease, eating her alive from the inside out.

A knock sounded against her closed door, breaking the thick silence.

She didn't respond.

Her father's voice penetrated the wood door. "Val, baby. We have to get ready for the service. It's starting soon." His voice was a monotonous as she'd ever heard it. He was hurting, too, but she was jealous of his ability to get up and continue to live. Going on with life was a desire that still eluded her.

"Yes, Papa." Her voice was low, barely a whisper. It was all she could muster, but she knew he could hear her in the silence of the apartment.

She lay across her bed, listened to his footsteps as he walked away from the door. So, the time had finally come to commit her mother to the earth. She had no idea how many days had passed since she'd cradled her mother's lifeless body in the muddy street. Her friends had been in and out, trying to talk her into eating, or getting some fresh air. She'd done neither. This loss was so deep, so unfathomably painful, she didn't know if she'd ever recover.

When Prissy had brought her home, stripped her out of the muddy dress, she'd been unconscious. As soon as she was placed in the water in the claw-foot bathing tub, though, she'd awaken, and the sobbing began. Prissy and Prudence had gotten her into a clean nightgown and into her bed, with no assistance from her. She'd cried until she had no more tears to shed, then she'd wailed until she was too hoarse to make a sound. Now, her voice was returning, but she had no words to speak.

She'd only left her room to use the indoor privy, and had it not been for her friends, would still be wearing the same gown they'd first dressed her in. Through the dark, bleak hours, Prissy, Lilly, and Prudence came. They brought her tea to soothe her nerves, helped her bathe, and changed her gown. They offered her food, even though she had no appetite. When the sorrow became too burdensome, and the sobbing and wailing began anew, they embraced her until it passed.

Noah had been by, to tell her he and his posse were going after Bud Bitters. He'd held her in his arms, stroking her hair and whispering to her all manner of endearments. His embrace had done much to salve her aching heart, and to make her feel some measure of safety. Before slipping out to attend to his duties, he'd promised that he and his men would be on hand for the services.

Even her father, struggling with his own pain, had done his best to see to her welfare. He did his best to rally for her, hiding his own tears as he tried to dry hers. He'd brushed her hair, read to her from the Bible, even sat cradling her in his arms as he'd done when she was a little girl. Though she was a woman fully grown, the loss of her mother made her feel as vulnerable, lost, and out of sorts as a small child left alone in a dark, unfamiliar place.

She heard footsteps sound again in the hall. They were not her father's.

A tapping at the door followed. "Valerie, are you awake? I've come to help you get dressed." It was Prudence.

"Come in." She shifted a bit in the bed, to face the door.

The door swung open, and Prudence entered, wearing a black blouse and skirt. Draped over her arm was Valerie's mourning gown. It was a finely crafted piece, made of black satin and trimmed with lace. "How are you doing, dear?"

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out. "I live."

Prudence came in, spreading the gown out across the foot of the bed. "I won't pester you with it now, but after the service, you need to eat something. You'll waste away if you don't."

She nodded wearily, and let her friend help her get out of bed. Once she was dressed, she slipped her trembling hands into a pair of black lace gloves. Prudence brushed her hair into a chignon, then placed a small black hat atop it, letting the veil fall over her face. "There now."

She looked into the long mirror hanging on the wall next to her bed, and saw her reflection. The dress was lovely, but behind the black veil, her face was a mask of pain. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her expression lined with sadness. Even though she looked much older than she was, for the first time, she didn't care. All she wanted was to wake up and discover it had all been an awful nightmare.

Prudence clasped her hand. "Come now. Let's go, Val."

She nodded, and let her friend escort her from the room.

They exited the apartment and stepped outside. Valerie was glad of the dark veil, because it shielded her eyes from the sunlight. It was an overcast day, but the sun seemed terribly bright. As they descended the stairs, she put her free hand over her eyes.

In front of the mercantile, Bernard was waiting inside their coach. The fancy vehicle, with it's covered top and plush interior the color of wine, was usually parked at the livery and only driven on special occasions. The coachman held the door open, and she and Prudence climbed inside.

Her father looked so handsome in his black cutaway suit and black vest, but his face held no hint of celebration. He was a man trying to cope with saying goodbye to the love of his life, and his sullen expression told all.

The silent ride took them to the outskirts of town, several miles past Doc Wilkin's clinic. There, at the cemetery, a crowd of townsfolk awaited, dressed in their mourning clothes. As she climbed out of the coach, Valerie viewed some of the familiar faces from behind the lacy veil. They were her friends, neighbors, customers at the mercantile. She saw Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, the hotel owners, standing next to the banker Tim Parson. Lilly was there, standing next to Prissy. Clutching Lilly's hand was little Adam Smart.

She scanned the assemblage until she found the face she sought. Seeing Noah standing there made her heart leap in her chest, and she drew a deep, shaky breath. He was handsome as ever in his dark suit and Stetson, but his blue eyes held a seriousness unlike she'd ever seen. He'd kept his promise, and his presence did much to soothe her.

Holding her father's hand, she trudged to the shade of the willow tree under which her mother's casket had been set. The crowd parted to allow them access. The lid of the pine coffin was open, and she viewed her mother's body one last time. Eunice had taken great care with preparing the body. Doris lay in peaceful repose, a satin pillow tucked beneath her head. She wore her favorite yellow gown, which had been an anniversary present from Bernard, and a wreath of yellow flowers surrounded her graying curls.

Valerie touched her mother's precious cheek with a gentle hand, then stepped away so her father could say his goodbyes.

As she looked on, her father leaned down and kissed her mother's forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The endearment spoken, he eased away.

Giving a nod to Eunice, who was waiting quietly nearby, he caught Valerie's hand again. Eunice stepped forward, and closed the hinged lid of the casket.

As town reverend, Derrick performed the funeral. As he spoke the words, Valerie felt her heart pounding in her chest like the steady beat of a drum. Tears coursed down her cheeks like a river, but she didn't sob, and she was grateful for that. Beside her, her father stood with a stony expression, his hand trembling as it clutched hers.

When the service ended, the town's lawmen acted as pallbearers. She watched as he, along with Ricardo, Thad, and Uriah lifted the casket from it's stand, and began to lower it into the freshly dug grave. She turned away, not wanting to see her mother's descent.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to find Noah standing there. He took off his hat and held it in front of him. "How are you, Valerie?"

She looked at him, the man who'd captured her heart. Then she answered him with the only word she could find to describe how she felt. "Weary."

He nodded, his eyes dropping for a moment. "I just wanted to tell you that I've wired the marshal, and he'll be here any day now for Charlie Ray. In the meantime, the boys and I are going after Bud Bitters."

She bristled at that. This was the first time in a long time she'd felt something other than sadness, and it was anger; burning, consuming anger. "Why do we have to wait for the marshal? That devil murdered my mother in the middle of the street. Why can't we just string him up from the nearest tree?"

Noah looked at her as if he didn't know her. "Valerie, darling. I know you're angry, and so am I. I found Uriah roughed up and hog-tied behind Ruby's, and Charlie did that, too. But no matter what a poor excuse for a man Charlie is, we have to give him a fair trial."

"My mother got no such mercy." She balled her lace-gloved hands into tight fists. "How could you leave him alive while you go after that other varmint?" She had no words to express how much she needed him, how much she needed his strong arms to soothe the ache in her heart. She knew he was doing his job, but that didn't stop her from wanting him with her. The lonely hours without him were too much to bear.

"Charlie isn't going anywhere. He'll be watched at all times." He reached to touch her hand, but she pulled away from him.

"Well, just go on, then! Go on and get your man, Sheriff. But don't bother calling on me when you return." She folded her arms across her chest and turned her face away.

Bernard, who'd been silent up to that point, spoke in a chastising manner. "Valerie."

Noah's face fell into a slight frown. "It's alright. We'll talk later." And he strode away.

Even as he left, she felt the pain of his absence. How could she articulate to him all the emotions tumbling around inside her? The pain, the anger, the desire for revenge?

Bernard released her hand. "I'm going back to speak with Eunice. Try and be a little less crass."

Alone, she moved away from her mother's grave, and found another willow. Beneath it's shade, she leaned against the trunk and closed her eyes. The sounds of the shovels full of dirt being thrown into the grave invaded her thoughts.

She felt someone tugging on her dress, and opened her eyes.

There stood little Adam Smart, extending a bouquet of blooms up to her. "Miss Valerie, I'm sorry Miss Doris went to heaven. I brought you some flowers."

Looking into his innocent brown eyes, she felt her heart melt into a puddle. Stooping down, she took the offered flowers, and felt a smile spread across her face. "Thank you so much, Adam."

He grinned. "You smiling. Does that mean the flowers made you feel better?"

"It isn't the flowers." She pulled his small body into her embrace. "It's you."

He returned the hug, wrapping his tiny arms as far around her as they would go. "Good. Don't worry about Miss Doris. My auntie Janice says heaven is a real nice place."

She pulled back, and looked into his face again. His expression had taken on a sadness at the mention of his aunt's name. "You must be sad about Auntie Janice going away to the hospital."

He nodded vigorously. "Yes. The doctor says she'll be alright, but it might be a few weeks till she comes back." His lip trembled, and he appeared to be holding back tears. "I'm staying with Ms. Prudence for now."

She patted his head. "Well, your aunt is a very strong person, and I sure do hope she gets better soon."

"Me, too." He gazed down at his shoes for a moment, then looked up again. "Miss Prudence says you won't eat. Would you eat with me, even just a little bit? We made pie."

She smiled again. This child was so sweet he made her teeth hurt. "Sure I will. Lead the way."

He clutched her hand with his small one, and she let him lead her away.

# CHAPTER 14

Noah slowed his horse to a walk, and gestured behind him for his men to do the same. The setting sun was touching the horizon like an orange ball of fire, and he knew the cover of night would soon fall. Thad, Ricardo, and Rod followed suit, easing their horses to a low speed.

They were several miles outside of Cedarville, a good thirty miles northwest of Ridgeway. Just up the hill stood the listing cabin once used by the late Reverend Thomas Earl as his fishing retreat. Since the old minister's death the previous winter, the place had fallen into disrepair. The overgrown grasses were so tall they nearly obscured the structure- he surmised that's why Bud had chosen it as a hideout.

They circled near the cabin, finding a spot in the woods to hitch their horses. Among the tall poplars and pines, the scent of moist earth and the sounds of insects were in the air. Dismounting, they went about the task in silence, each man contemplating his role in the coming siege.

Thad spoke, his voice just above a whisper. "Good thing Carl's horseshoes were marked. Saved us a lot of trouble in tracking this miscreant." They'd followed the markings out of town, heading west, then north to this very spot, with only a few deviations near watering holes.

Rod Emerson nodded, his angry face visible in the dim light. "He's too dumb to notice the markings he's been leaving, I suppose."

Noah drew his Colt. "We'll wait here for darkness, then surround the place. Bud Bitters is going back with us, dead or alive."

The other men indicated their agreement, and drew their own weapons.

In silence, they watched the horizon as the sun dipped low, then set. In the growing shadows, he thought about the tight expression on Valerie's face when he'd told her they were leaving. They'd tracked Bud to his hideout, then headed back to town and attended Doris' funeral, so they could pay their respects. Even still, she hadn't been satisfied. He knew she was in pain, and hated to see her suffering so, but he didn't have time to coddle her or attend to her moods, at least not until the remaining members of Bitter's gang were in the hands of the marshal. As soon as this was over, he would make things right with her, but now, he had important duties to attend to.

Ricardo elbowed him. "Don't worry. Miss Valerie will forgive you."

Turning to face the former sea captain, he furrowed his brow.

"I saw her shouting at you. Give her time and she'll come around."

He shook his head ruefully. "Is it that obvious she's on my mind?"

Ricardo chuckled. "As obvious as the nose on your face, Sheriff."

He'd never imagined himself as the kind of man who would wear his feelings for a woman on the front of his shirt, but it seemed he was. He shook his head again, and tried to focus on the task at hand.

As darkness settled over the rise, he could see the glow from the back window of the cabin. Bud must have lit a lantern inside to chase back the shadows. By now, night had fallen, but moonrise had not yet occurred. He watched the window, hoping for some sign of what Bud might be doing inside.

Easing toward the cabin, he peered through the dirty glass. He could see Bud sitting at a table, with several piles of money spread out in front of him. Making his way back to his men, he told them what he'd seen.

That drew a few snorts of disgust from the assemblage.

Noah agreed with their assessment. He didn't take kindly to Bud, a common hood, sitting in there counting up the money that belonged to the good citizens of his town. He was about to give instructions when he noticed a shift in light. Even without turning around, his lawman's instinct told him Bud had a fire going.

"He's lit a fire in the grate." Rod's soft observation confirmed his guess.

A smile lifted the corners of Noah's mouth. "Grab your saddle blankets, men, and let's surround the cabin."

His officers did as he asked, while he fetched his own blanket from beneath the worn saddle on Justice's back. When all four had blankets in hand, he took the whole bundle, and directed each man to an assigned post. Rod took up a position at the rear, near the window. Ricardo crouched on the left wall of the cabin, careful to duck beneath the window there. Then Noah followed Thad to the windowless right side.

"What do you need me to do, Sheriff?" Young Thad was as eager as ever to do his duty. Spending nearly a whole day on the trail hadn't dampened his enthusiasm.

"You're the tallest, and the lightest among us, so here's the plan." He held up the pile of blankets in the dimness. "I'll give you a boost, and you cover the chimney with these blankets. Got it?" He figured it would be an easy lift, since the low slung roof was only about eight feet off the ground. Thad himself was over six feet tall.

Thad nodded, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Going to smoke him out, eh?"

Noah only gave him a grin in answer, then crouched down with his cupped palms turned upward for a foothold. "Ready, Officer Stern?"

"Yes, sir." Thad placed his long, narrow, boot clad foot into Noah's hands. With all his might, the sheriff pushed upward, and the young officer was launched over the edge of the roof. Thad grabbed the overhang with his right hand, the blankets tucked tight beneath his left arm. The clap of That's hand making contact with the wood echoed in the night, and they paused to see if Bud would react to the sound. When Bud didn't materialize, Noah gave a nod.

Noah waited, in case he needed to catch him, but Thad quickly got a good grasp and wriggled onto the rooftop. Noah tossed the bundle of blankets up, and waited. He could hear Thad shuffling about, and backed up for a better view. In the darkness, he could see the outline of the young man, on his knees by the old brick chimney. Once he'd stuffed the blankets into the chimney's mouth, Thad scooted to the edge and slid off, landing on his behind in the overgrown grass.

Noah gave the boy a hand getting up. "Well done, Thad. Are you alright?"

He chuckled. "Yep. Turns out scaling a roof was a little easier than I thought it would be." Thad brushed the bits of dead grass and soil from the back of his denims. "What, now?"

"Now, we wait." As he spoke, he eased around the corner of the cabin, toward the front door, the lone door. "When the cabin fills up with smoke, he's coming outta there, one way or another. And we have all the exits covered."

He and Thad crouched on either side of the doorway, and waited.

Silence fell on the hilltop, save for the croaking of toads in the pond, and the night sounds of the insects and creatures moving around the forest.

A few long moments passed before violent coughing could be heard, coming from inside the cabin.

Noah narrowed his eyes. He was about to get his man.

Sure enough, the door swung open, and the hacking Bud Bitters came bursting through it, onto the grassy knoll. Clutching his chest, Bud was only thinking of getting out of the cabin, and getting his breath, so he wasn't prepared when Noah jumped him from behind. The two of them rolled down the incline in front of the cabin, and landed in a heap near the base of a sycamore tree. Noah was on top, and before Bud could get his bearings, he snatched the bracelets from his belt and snapped them onto the outlaw's wrists.

"You're under arrest, trash." Noah ground the words out, letting his anger show even though he was a bit out of breath from the tumble. "The folks in Ridgeway, and the marshal, will be mighty glad to see you."

***

Valerie sat back in her chair, an open volume of Keats lying across her lap. Before her, Adam Smart was playing with a wooden train she'd given him from the store's inventory. From beneath the brim of her hat, she watched him run around the small fenced yard behind the mercantile in a state of sheer joy. He pulled the string attached to the toy, dragging it around in the winter-brown grass, his smile as bright as the sun above. Even on a cool October day like this, where the sun only peeked out through the clouds ever so often, his childish zeal was contagious, and Valerie found herself smiling.

It had been nearly two weeks since her mother's funeral. Last week, Noah had knocked on the door of the mercantile, come to give her the news of Bud Bitters' arrest, but she'd refused to see him. Her father had passed on the message. Though she was glad the dreadful man would be brought to justice, along with his murderous ally, she couldn't bring herself to face Noah that day. She assumed he knew she was cross with him, because he hadn't bothered her since. As Bernard had relayed to her, the marshal had been delayed with another case, and would hopefully arrive this week to rid the town of the two criminals stinking up their jail.

This morning, the mercantile would re-open for business, and her father had kept busy with preparations for that. The pallor that had hung over him seemed to be lifted a bit as he went about the building, tidying the shelves and calculating inventory. She was glad to see his spirits being lifted.

She, on the other hand, had spent most of her time with Adam. She still spoiled him with candy and trinkets from the store's stock, as she always had. It seemed that having him around was the antidote to her grief. Perhaps it was their common experience with tragedy. Perhaps it was his youthful spirit and innocent ways. Whatever it was, having him around eased the ache in her heart like nothing else.

Janice had been taken away to the larger hospital in Stockton, in the days leading up to Doris' death. There, she was to undergo a surgical procedure and get some much needed rest. Doc Wilkins' associate predicted a full recovery for Janice, but she might be at the hospital for several weeks to mend from her ordeal and the surgery.

Running over to where she sat, Adam launched himself into her lap and wound his small arms about her neck. "Thanks again for the train, Miss Valerie, it's real nice."

With a giggle, she returned his embrace, cradling his form in her arms. "You're welcome, Adam. You've been thanking me all morning."

"That's how much I love this train!" Adam hopped down from her lap again. He gave her a wide grin, his brown eyes twinkling with merriment, and dashed off again to play some more.

A tapping on the fence drew her attention. Getting up from the old wooden chair, she went around to see who it was.

Prudence stood there, with baby Chloe wriggling in her arms. Her face was a bit drawn, as if she were tired, but she smiled anyway. "Morning, Val. I came to get Adam. Thanks for watching him."

Valerie waved her off. "It's been my pleasure. He's such a sweetheart."

Prudence nodded. "He is a darling boy. I just wish I wasn't so busy. With Chloe running around the way she is, and with all the preparations I'm doing to reopen the school and take over the teaching position, I'm exhausted." She shifted the wiggly toddler to her hip. "If I didn't have you to help out with him, I don't know what I'd do."

An idea came into Valerie's mind that made her heart turn over in her chest. She turned her head, and glanced at the sweet little boy, still circling the yard with his train. Within a moment, her decision was made. "I'll take him."

Prudence's eyes widened. "Take him where?"

"I mean, I'll take care of him, until Janice comes home. She brushed an errant tear from her cheek. "Besides, I already love being around Adam."

Prudence's expression changed, softening. "Truly, Valerie? You'd take on responsibility for him? All by yourself? I mean, I have Derrick to lend a hand."

She shrugged. Not knowing what would happen between her and Noah, she still had a good man in her life. "Not by myself. I have Pa. And I know he won't mind, Adam's a very good boy. Look, you're overwhelmed, and I'm bored to tears. Let me take Adam. I'll take good care of him."

By now they were both crying. Prudence used her free hand to wipe her tears. "Thank you, Val. Bless you. Let me take him home once more, to gather up his things, and we'll make the arrangements this evening."

Valerie nodded, then called the boy over. He came running. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Prudence has come to pick you up. Run along, and I'll see you a bit later."

She opened the fence, and Adam took Prudence's hand.

As they went off down the street, Valerie watched him skip down the walk, and knew she'd made the right choice. Brushing away more tears, she came around the front of the store, closing the fence behind her. Swinging open the door to the mercantile, she went inside in search of her father.

She found him in the rear right corner, organizing the tack display. He sat on a low stool, counting bridles scattered at his feet, and making note of them on his slate with a piece of chalk. When she approached, he looked up. "Morning, darling." Seeing her tear streaked face must have given him pause, because he lay his slate down and turned on the stool to face her. "Whatever is the matter, Valerie?"

"Nothing is the matter, Papa. I have the most wonderful news."

Bernard folded his arms over his broad chest, his brow furrowed. "Tell me. I'm listening."

"I've decided to take in Adam Smart, and see to him until Janice returns." Rather than let the whole story tumble out in a rush, she stopped herself after giving him that very important detail. She wanted to see what he thought of the situation.

He rubbed his whiskered chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then he raised his eyes to hers again. "Are you sure you can handle this? Adam's a very active child. "

She reached down, grabbed her father's hands. "Papa, I'm very sure. Since we lost Mama, Adam has been the such a joy to have around. Besides, I'd be doing Prudence a big favor."

Bernard nodded. "And you shall have my help. "

A squeal of delight left Valerie's throat, and like a young girl, she fell into her father's lap, threw her arms around him, and kissed his face. "Thank you for your vote of faith, Papa."

He released a deep, rumbling laugh. "I'm proud of you, Valerie. You have Doris' kind heart, and that's a treasure indeed.

There, in the quite clutter of the mercantile, Valerie let herself be enfolded in her father's embrace, her heart swelling with happiness.

***

Sitting by the window in his office, Noah propped his feet on the desk. The afternoon air outside still held a bit of this morning's chill, so he'd propped open the door to the office to stave off the heat that often built inside during the day. A light drizzle was falling from the overcast sky, and he mused that the weather matched his mood quite accurately.

It had been a full week since he'd stopped by the mercantile, hoping to see Valerie. She hadn't even bothered to come downstairs. He'd had to give Bernard a message for her. Frustrated with her, and the wall she'd thrown up around herself, he'd kept busy with his work. He'd taken on extra shifts watching Bud and Charlie at the office and patrolling the town borders, as Ricardo was doing now.

Based on the wire he'd received this morning, the marshal would be in town today. The wire had come from neighboring Cedarville, where he'd gone that fateful day to meet the doctor coming to treat Janice. When he thought of the awful things that had occurred in his town while he was away, it was hard not to be bitter. Maybe if he'd been here, he could have stopped the madness, perhaps even saved Doris Ridgeway from her untimely death. Now, however, the die had been cast, and he'd never know.

What he wanted most now was to get Bud and Charlie out of his jail, and out of his life. He'd grown tired of looking at their sorry carcasses, especially Charlie, who remained unrepentant for Doris' death, Uriah's beating, or any of the other mayhem he'd perpetrated. He wanted nothing more than to lay into Charlie with a bullwhip and beat reform into him, but, alas, the lawman's code called for professionalism and restraint on his part. He had a good mind to fetch Miss Prissy, and look the other way while she gave him another shiner to match the first one.

At least he'd made the arrest, and gotten the townsfolk's money back. When he and his men delivered the stash back to the banker, his sullen mood had morphed into sheer joy. Tim Parson had been ecstatic to receive the funds, and vowed to hire on a couple of guards to keep watch over the bank as soon as he could arrange it. Luckily, all but about twenty dollars of the money had been accounted for.

Approaching footsteps broke into his thoughts. He could hear the heavy booted footfalls outside the door, but couldn't see the person through the window. Shortly, a tall, broad shouldered man stepped in. He was tan, with a well trimmed brown handlebar mustached and beard surrounding the serious face. He wore a long brown duster, fashioned of leather, and a tan Stetson. Pinned to the duster was a bronze star.

Noah dropped his feet and stood from the desk. "Afternoon, Marshal."

The marshal, Theodore Campbell, tipped his hat. "Afternoon, Sheriff. I hear you've got two miscreants for me to lead to the gallows."

He gestured behind him. "Down the hall, one in each cell."

The marshal touched his hat brim, and strode toward the cells.

He followed, and took great pleasure in helping secure the two cursing outlaws in wrist and leg irons for their long trip to Sacramento.

Outside the office, they tossed the two trussed up men into the back of Marshal Campbell's wagon. With that done, the marshal climbed atop the seat. "You and your men did good work, Sheriff Rogers. We've been trying to bring these boys in for a mighty long time. What became of Mean Joe?"

"One of my citizens caught him trespassing on their land, and shot him in self defense. Undertaker buried him in an unmarked grave outside of town." Personally, he thought Billy's wife, Myrtle, had done the good people of Ridgeway a favor by dispatching Joe. She'd turned out to be just as skilled with her 'little purse guns' as her husband had implied.

Marshal Campbell shook his head. "A fitting end for such a poor excuse for a man." He touched his hat brim. "I'll see these two fine gentleman to Judge Weeks. Thank you for your help, Sheriff."

Noah gave a nod of acknowledgment, and the marshal slapped the reins. As the vehicle rolled toward the edge of town, he was glad to finally be rid of the burden of two of the most ornery, rude prisoners he'd ever looked after.

He had more important matters to attend to.

He was going after Valerie again. This time, he vowed he'd do whatever was necessary to convince her to see him. And when she did, he'd convince her to be his wife.

Whistling, he strolled back inside his office.

# CHAPTER 15

Emerging from the steamy washroom, Valerie felt like a new woman. A long, hot soak in the big claw-footed tub had done much to ease her aches, as well as her mind. The tension she'd been carrying these last two weeks seemed to have eased greatly, and she was thankful for a return to sanity. Nothing could bring her mother back, but she was finally starting to feel she could get on with her life.

She thought of Adam, who would be moving into the apartment the next day. She'd asked Prudence to keep him a bit longer, so she could prepare the spare bedroom for him. She wanted to ensure his comfort, even though she didn't know how long he'd be with her. The room, now outfitted with a small bed, a desk and chair where he could do his lessons, and a chest full of toys, was now ready for its new occupant.

In her lamp-lit bedroom, she fetched a clean cotton gown and slipped into it. Between the long sleeves and the material sweeping the floor, she was covered from neck to toes in comfort and warmth. Once she'd brushed her hair and oiled it, something she hadn't done in what seemed like ages, she fashioned it into one long braid. Book in hand, she settled into her window seat with the Keats volume she'd started the other day.

She heard a knock on the mercantile door, but since it was after business hours, she ignored it. As she turned the page in the book, she heard the knocking again. It was a nuisance, but she knew her father would answer it. She tried to focus on her reading as she heard his footsteps traversing the hall, then descending the stairs to the store below.

She slipped back into her own literary world, until she heard two sets of footsteps ascending the stairs. Who on earth would her Pa be bringing into the apartment after seven in the evening?

A soft rapping at her bedroom door made her put the book aside. "Yes, Pa?"

"Come into the parlor for a bit, darling." Her father's voice was gentle, but insistent.

Sliding from her seat, she crossed the room and opened the door.

There, looking as handsome as ever, stood Noah. He stood there with his hat in his hands, his blue eyes fixed on her. "Evenin', Valerie."

She propped her fists on her hips, shifting her gaze to her father.

Bernard stared right back at her. "Don't be unreasonable. Go in the parlor and hear the man out, and if you're still miffed, then by all means, toss him out the nearest window." That said, Bernard disappeared down the hall to his bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

Outdone, Valerie looked at Noah, still standing in the hall.

"No amount of your fussing will get me to leave. Not until you've heard me out." He waited for her reaction.

With a sigh, she acquiesced. "Fine. Let's go in the parlor."

They took seats in the large room, with its windows facing Founder's Avenue. She settled into her favorite fluffy armchair, while he sat on the settee across from her.

"Valerie, dearest. Why haven't you been letting me call on you?"

She sighed. How could she explain to him, so that he would understand? "You weren't here when I needed you Noah. Not on that awful day when Mama died, and not after the funeral."

Noah's gaze was directed at the floor. "I'm sorry, Valerie. I wanted to be at your side, more than anything. But I had to go after Bud. It was my sworn duty."

She stood, pacing to the window. Outside, the silver orb of the moon was rising, illuminating the silent street below. "I needed your arms, Noah. Your words of assurance. Your hand to guide me through the darkest time of my life." And it truly had been a dark time, even darker than another cold morning, when she'd discovered her barrenness .

Behind her, she heard his footsteps as he moved from his seat, then sensed his presence as he came close to her. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and pulled her against his hard, muscled frame. In his embrace, she felt her steely resolve melting away like butter in the skillet. "Forgive me, my love." His words were a passionate whisper, his warm breath like a caress on the lobe of her ear. "Give me the chance to make it right."

She trembled. Even though she'd been holding on to bitterness and anger since that horrible day, she couldn't resist the overwhelming male power he possessed. His nearness intoxicated her like a strong drink, and she found herself relaxing, sinking into his arms. "I don't know if it can be made right, Noah. There is something I need to know."

"You are worried I can't accept your barrenness. " It was plainly stated, and not as a question. His fingertips slid the braid aside, and he planted a kiss on the hollow of her neck.

She turned in the circle of his arms to face him in the lamplight. "Do you not want sons, as all the other men do? I can't bear you any children." She cast her eyes downward, feeling the shame rise again. A man with such tenderness inside deserved the privilege of raising children, yet she could not provide them.

He drew her even closer to his strong chest. "I almost lost you that awful day, Valerie ." He cupped her face in his hands, titling it upward so she would look at him. "If you would have let me speak to you, I would have told you before that I no longer care that you can't bear me children. You alone are enough, my love."

"There is one more thing."

He backed up a bit, his brow furrowed. "What else?"

"I've taken Adam into my care. Until Janice returns from Stockton, he will be your rival for my time and attention." She watched him intently.

After a few moment's silence, a broad grin spread across his face. "That's fine by me."

She could feel a lightness taking over her. "Truly, Noah?"

Noah shrugged. "Why  not? He's a fine boy, and we'll have much fun playing together. I think it is very sweet of you to take care of him."

She smiled up at him. "Then I forgive you. I forgive you a thousand times over. And I'm sorry I was so difficult. I was going through so much."

"If you agree to be my wife, we'll consider all things even." He lifted her chin, and fixed his gaze on her. Eyes sparkling like blue diamonds, he asked, "Will you be my wife?"

Fat tears formed in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. "Yes!" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could manage. "Yes, Noah. Yes."

# EPILOGUE

Spring, 1885

On a bright, sun-filled April day, Valerie Ridgeway marched down the aisle of the Ridgeway Community Church on her father's arm. The long white gown, overlaid with lace and fashioned by Lilly's own hand, was the very first creation to come out of Lilly's Dress Emporium.

At the end of the aisle waited the party of attendants. Her dear friends stood, wearing gowns of yellow silk and holding bouquets of poppies and verbena. Prissy wore a watery smile; Lilly, an easy grin. Prudence nodded her approval, and Janice had the brightest smile of all, as she clutched Adam's hand. She'd returned from the hospital in Stockton in good spirits, and with no lasting symptoms other than a barely noticeable limp.

Opposite them stood the men, dressed in their new patrol uniforms of tan button down shirts and matching trousers. Young Thad and Uriah, along with Ricardo and Rod, all lined up and looking very dashing.

In the center of it all stood the love of her life, the handsomely dressed Noah.

Derrick spoke the words, to join Valerie and Noah together as husband and wife.

As she left the church, clutching the hand of her new husband, she gathered up the folds of her dress and stepped into the carriage waiting to whisk them away to their honeymoon voyage.

As the carriage began to roll down the road, Valerie lay in her husband's embrace and sighed. "I'm so happy, Noah. So very happy."

He stroked her cheek. "As am I, my love." He punctuated the endearment with a kiss on her forehead.

A sigh of contentment escaped her throat.

He ran his hand down the pearl embellished bodice of her gown. "And I plan to enjoy you immensely."

She raised her face for his kiss, and as his lips touched hers, she let herself be swept away by the love she felt for her lawman.

The carriage took them to the train depot in Oakland. As she was helped down from the seat by her husband, she met his eyes. "Are you certain of this, Noah?" They'd been planning this very special journey for weeks now, but she wanted to make sure her husband remained as excited as she was about it.

He nodded, a smile touching the corners of his lips. "When we return from this honeymoon trip, my happiness will be made complete."

Touched by the sincerity of his words, she grasped his hand and let him lead her toward the platform to await the train.

Over the next four days, they traveled northwest via the Central Pacific Rail line, with stops in Sacramento and a few other towns and cities. The private car they traveled in had been a wedding gift from her father, and throughout the journey, they delighted themselves in each other, consummating their marriage in every county they crossed. Body and soul, she gave all to the man she loved, and he gave nothing less in return, making her sing and sigh for him with every touch. As the train rollicked down the track, she discovered the many and varied joys of the marriage bed.

Upon reaching the depot in Colfax, they changed trains, boarding the Nevada County Narrow Gauge Railroad train bound for Grass Valley. The small, bustling town, home of the gold-rich Empire and North Star Mines, had been a hub of activity since its founding during the Gold Rush of '49. For Valerie and Noah, however, the town held a different, more profound significance.

Watching the bellhop bring her luggage into their second-floor suite at the well-heeled Holbrooke Hotel, she felt her nerves getting the better of her again. She turned to the window, watching the colorful bands of sunset that striped the sky. "Tomorrow is the day, Noah."

He eased up behind her, and slipped his strong arms around her waist. His body pressed against hers, he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Yes, my love. Tomorrow." He kissed her, his lips brushing the delicate skin just beneath the shell of her ear. With slow, passionate kisses and caresses, he drew her into the bed.

The next morning, she rose with cockerel, roused her husband, and made haste to get herself dressed. Once they had gotten ready, and had a light breakfast in the hotel dining room, a hired hack took them to Mount Saint Mary's Convent and Orphan Asylum.

A nun escorted them inside. With each step, Valerie could feel her heart pounding. She fairly vibrated with excitement and anticipation. This was a day she'd thought would never come, and now that it was happening, she couldn't seem to temper her emotions. Brushing a tear from her cheek, she held fast to Noah's hand, and followed the young nun into a small chapel. There, at the altar, waited another, older sister, as well as a priest. In the sister's arms was a squirming young boy.

Holding fast to the child, the nun spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, I'm Sister Mary Matthew. It's so nice to finally meet you." The nun spoke with the thick accent of her native Ireland. "This is Father McClanahan."

She offered a greeting to them, as did Noah, but her eyes were locked on the child. From her correspondence with Sister Mary Matthew she knew the child to be male, about ten months old, and as curious and willful as ever a child could be. A chocolate skinned tot with eyes the color of polished copper, he wore a white gown lovingly fashioned of cotton and lace.

"Have you decided what to name the boy?" The question came from the smiling priest, whose accent was just as pronounced as that of the nun.

She wanted to answer the question, but found herself too emotional to speak.

As if sensing her plight, Noah answered. "Yes. He's to be named Abraham Silas."

She looked at her husband, and felt her love for him blooming anew. Once again, he'd come to her rescue, just as he'd saved her from the mayor's careening carriage, and from the darkness that almost consumed her after her mother's death.

Sister Mary Matthew held the child over the basin of water that rested on a pedestal before the priest. He squirmed all the more, but remained quiet save for a few coos.

"Very well, my child." The priest dipped his fingertips into the basin, and sprinkled the droplets of water on the child's forehead. "Then I baptize you this day, Abraham Silas Rogers. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." He took a cloth from the folds of his robes, and dabbed the moisture from the babe's face. "May God bless your new family."

Sister Mary Matthew passed him into Valerie's waiting arms. He was far lighter in her arms than Adam Smart, but every bit as endearing. Little Abe looked into her eyes briefly, then rested his curly head upon her bosom. As she held her child close, she felt everything within her become overwhelmed with love for him. "Isn't he precious, Noah?"

Tears standing in his eyes, Noah embraced them both, and offered a serene smile. "As precious to me as you, my love."

They took Abraham home a few days later. Bernard was delighted to meet his brand new grandson, and was immediately enamored with him. By the time the new year dawned, Abe had taken his first steps, right into Noah's waiting arms. One spring day, when the buds began to pop open and flower, Abe stood in the garden of his parent's home. Raising his arms to Valerie, he called her "Mama," and she hugged his little body and kissed his face while tears filled her eyes.

And when the summer sun shone down on the town of Ridgeway, it cast it's rays on the newly remodeled schoolhouse, bearing a sign that read:

Doris Ridgeway Primary School

Dedicated to the memory

of a beloved member of the founding family

by the people of Ridgeway;

June, 1886

The End

# A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Hello, reader. Thanks so much for reading Loving the Lawman. I know the tone of this book was just a shade or two darker in tone than the two previous books in the series, and I hope this didn't distract you from the love between Noah and Valerie. I truly appreciate the time you've given to this book- I know there are many things competing for our attention these days.

You're probably wondering if there will be another installment in the Roses of Ridgeway series, now that I've completed a trilogy. The answer is yes... but there may be a little bit of time before book 4 hits the stands. I'm currently developing several projects, but I will return to Ridgeway as soon as I can manage. The best way to keep up with what I'm doing, where I'm going, and what I'm working on is to subscribe to my newsletter. You can do that by going to my website's homepage.

Click here to visit my website

If you enjoyed this book, I'd appreciate you taking the time to leave an honest review.

Did you miss the first two books in the series? If you did, please be sure to check out the other two titles:

Kissing the Captain

The Preacher's Paramour

All the Best,

Kianna

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### Other Titles by Kianna Alexander

(**links are live on available titles**)

Phoenix Files: Contemporary Paranormal Romance

-Darkness Rising, Book 1

-Embrace the Night, Book 2

-Midnight's Serenade, Book 3

The Phoenix Files Trilogy (contains all 3 titles)

Graham's Goddesses (Sensual to Erotic Historical Romance)

-Freedom's Embrace, Book 1

-Love's Lasso, Book 2

-Deputy's Desire, Book 3

Climax Creek: Contemporary Erotic Romance

-Seducing Sheri

-Vying for Vivian

-Adoring Ava

-Persuading Patrice
