The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances (4 page)

"I was wondering if you would help me clean up my office."

Sabrina raised an eyebrow, surprised that he would stoop so low as to ask her for help.   Sabrina sighed as she looked up at his imploring face.  She almost smiled. Surely he couldn’t feel helpless, especially with those colts strapped to his waist.  Her eyes inadvertently darted to the area between the colts and she felt her face turning red as she looked away.

"Thought you wanted things done your way,
” she said, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly.

Brock frowned.  "Well, I guess my way wasn't such a good idea after all."

"Oh, all right!  But you’re buying me lunch," Sabrina said in mock exasperation.

Brock chuckled. "Deal, I don't suppose you can eat that much,
” he said, eyeing her small frame.  They headed back up to the boardwalk to begin their task.

Sabrina stumbled along the street heading towards the
Sheriff's office. She was having a hard time trying to keep up with Brock’s long stride. Frustrated she stopped abruptly and started strolling along at a leisurely pace. Why the heck was she in a hurry to clean up his mess, anyway? And why the heck did she volunteer for the job twice? I must be getting dense, she thought. See? I'm even talking to myself now.

She passed a shop and stopped suddenly, noticing a new blue silk dress in the window. She had never liked wearing dresses and had only done so under threat or force, but this dress was a beauty. She could imagine herself in it at a grand ball dancing with a tall dark handsome man who looked an awful lot like
Brock. In fact, she could see Brock’s face in front of her looking at her strangely. She realized that she was seeing his reflection on the glass in front of her and turned around quickly, scowling at him. "What?" she said gruffly, lowering her voice. She could feel her face reddening and she looked away quickly, heading towards the office at a medium pace. Brock followed her, walking slowly.

"I was afraid you got lost."

"Well, this isn't a cattle drive! I don't walk as fast as you do. Why should I hurry to help clean up your mess anyway?" She mumbled the last part to herself but he heard anyhow.

"Didn't look like you were walking at all. Looked like you were gawking at a dress. Is there a girl you’re sweet on?" Brock
asked, smiling.

"One more word and I'll be walking the other way," Sabrina retorted and Brock
hid a grin. He was used to people respecting him, or at least fearing him, but this boy did neither. Will seemed to be quite confident in his abilities, which was very rare in a boy his age. 'Course a kid had to grow up fast out here to survive. Brock estimated him to be about thirteen or fourteen years old since it didn’t appear that he needed to shave. But he seemed so much more mature.

The pair arrived outside the office and Sabrina waited impatiently while Brock unlocked the door. He cringed as he opened it slowly. Sabrina's eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the devastation she saw before her.

"What have you done? I left you alone for ten minutes!"  Her boots squished on the muddy floor as she looked over the room. Mud was splattered everywhere and the once dirty curtains were in a filth-sodden pile next to the overturned bucket.

"I had a little accident," Brock explained.

Sabrina turned on him, her voice rising with every word. "An accident? The fall of Rome was an accident! This is a disaster! It's going to take days to clean this up." 

"I'd be willing to pay you,
” Brock offered hopefully, still unsure why he was begging this boy to help him or why he really wanted him to say yes.

"No thanks, I already have a job!”  Sabrina sighed at the look of desperation on his face. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. She could not pass over an animal in need, even if it was human. “Oh, all right! Let's just get started? You wash the
windows inside and out and I guess I'll start on the quagmire."  She gave Brock a look, daring him to say anything. He just shrugged as he picked up the bucket to get more water.

Brock decided it was safest to start on the outside.  It was a bit humiliating to be seen washing windows as the townsfolk walked by with whispers and grins, but he refused to back down from his promise.  At least he didn’t need a chair, he was tall enough to reach all of the windows without one. He thoroughly soaped and rinsed them twice for good measure. 

“So you’re the new Sheriff,” a feminine voice stated from behind him.  He turned, noticing the lady who had rented the carriage previously. She was with the same man.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brock said tilting his hat to her. 

“I didn’t realize who you were yesterday.  I’m Sally Reynolds and this is my brother, Thomas. Our father is the doctor,” she said with a haughty tone. 

Brock forced a smile as he sighed inwardly.  Women like her just screamed trouble.  Suddenly a large wet mass flew out of the open doorway and splattered close to the lady’s feet.  Speckles of must splattered her dress. 

Sabrina grinned as she heard the squeal from Sally.  She really had no idea what had come over her.  She’d dealt with her many times in the past and had never gotten upset with her
better than thou
attitude, but when she heard her talking to Brock a strange feeling crept over her.  Without thinking, she’d grabbed the sodden curtains and tossed them outside. 

She heard Brock apologizing profusely, explaining that Will had not seen her standing there. Then Sabrina heard her walking off in a huff, with her underling of a brother following after her, muttering apologies to Brock for her behavior. 

Sabrina expected another confrontation with Brock when he stepped inside the office and was surprised and disappointed when he came in chuckling.

“I take it that you don’t like the Reynolds.”

Sabrina forced a look of surprise on her face.  “The Reynolds stopped by?  I hadn’t realized.”

She had scraped off the first layer of sodden debris and shoveled it into the door-less cell to be removed later. It would be easier to move when it was dry.  She had then tried to soak up the remaining mud, working backwards from the corner so that it would be not be full of muddy footprints when it dried.

She stretched out her aching back like a cat and looked over her handiwork. “Well, I guess that’s all we can do until the floor dries.  I’ll take the drapes down to the creek later and see if I can salvage them.” She paused.  “I guess you don’t need pretty curtains for a jail,” Sabrina said sarcastically.

Brock shook his head “Well, let’s go get some food and then you can show me where the creek is and I’ll lend you a hand since it’s my mess.”

Sabrina nodded and headed toward the saloon. Brock stopped her.  “We’ll eat at the boarding house.  The last steak I had at the saloon tasted like shoe leather.”

Sabrina laughed.  “Mac must not like you very much; he’s a great cook. He used to run the chuck wagon back when Mr. Swanson had his ranch.”

Brock huffed and headed up the steps to his temporary home. Mrs. Hawkins was in the kitchen fixing lunch for herself. Seeing him enter with his guest, she smiled and added two more plates. 

Sabrina hungrily wolfed down the chicken and dumplings.  They were made the same way Alma made them: rolled out and cut.  They somehow tasted better than the dropped dumplings
Mac made, less doughy.  She dipped the still warm hoe cakes in the broth and took a huge bite.  She looked up and found Brock watching her amused.  She glared at him and wiped the crumbs off her face. 

“What?” she muttered as a spray of dry bread crumbs fell from her mouth. Her mother would have been appalled if she’d seen her eating like that but Sabrina had to keep up appearances. 

“And to think I imagined you wouldn’t eat that much,” Brock said, as he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin.

“Leave him be; he’s a growing boy,” Mrs. Hawkins said, patting Sabrina on her arm.  She forced a smile at the older lady. 

After lunch they packed up the muddy curtains and stopped by the livery for horses. Brock rode Troy and Sabrina rode Star. Mr. Swanson allowed her to take Star out whenever she wished.

They were quiet as they rode and Sabrina’s thoughts again drifted to the past.  She was thinking about the last time she saw her brother.  They had several horrible arguments.  Warren wanted Sabrina to go back to Boston with him and stay in a boarding school with other young women of her stature. He would leave Daniel, their current foreman, in charge of the ranch. Sabrina was adamant that she would not go.  She would
not leave her home and family to go up North to some girls’ school to learn “to be a lady.” 

Her mother taught all of them including Samuel to read, write, do their math and play music. She didn’t need any more schooling. She felt that Warren just wanted to get her married off so he wouldn’t have to deal with her and she told him so.  Warren was unreasonable, to say the least, but Sabrina found herself a week later on a train to Boston with a chaperone.  Warren had to work out some details with the ranch and would follow later. She was to stay with her Aunt Betty, her mother’s sister, until Warren arrived. 

Her mother came from a wealthy family.  It was old money---they could trace their roots back to English royalty---or so she was told.  She never had to think about money before; everything was always provided for her.  Warren had given her some extra money for items during her trip and she kept it secure in the pocket of her skirt.  Yes, she was wearing a skirt begrudgingly.  She intentionally wore a big fluffy skirt to conceal the pants she wore underneath. 

She had devised a plan and it did not include her going to Boston.  That was about three years ago. She waited ‘til her chaperone was asleep and hopped off the train as it neared the next station, and Will was born.

It didn’t work out exactly the way she planned.  She was initially going to contact her cousins but she was scared that they would take Warren’s side.  She drifted from town to town keeping up her disguise.  It was just safer that way.  Since her father was a Marshall, she had heard her parents whispering together at night about things that sometimes happened to young girls in rough towns so she was very careful. 

She eventually wound up in Tulsey Town.  Exhausted and nearly out of money, she took refuge in the stable during a winter storm.  Mr. Swanson found her in the morning and the rest was history.  She didn’t know if Warren was still looking for her, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

One day she happened to overhear someone telling Mr. Swanson that Warren Lovett was an attorney for the new circuit court Judge. She guessed he took that position to keep searching for her so he could ruin her life again. But this was her new home and her new family and she did not want to leave.

Her horse neighed softly and Sabrina forced herself back to reality.  It seemed like lately she had been thinking more about the past than the present.  She would have to try to stay more focused, especially around Brock.  His eyes and ears were much more keen than Mr. Swanson’s.

“Almost there. So how did you end up in Tulsa?”  Sabrina asked, breaking the silence. 

“Mostly just lookin’ for a nice place to settle. I’ve been drifting like a tumbleweed for years now. I’m looking for someplace to plant my feet.  I heard about the opening and here I am.”  Brock turned to Sabrina and smiled so brightly she had to turn her head. 

“It does have a certain charm that whispers
home.
  I don’t have much family left so I kinda feel like the town I live in is my family.”  Sabrina’s brain suddenly told her mouth to shut up.  She had kept her secret by not talking to anyone about her past. Most townsfolk had been too busy to notice Will, much less drum up a conversation with the boy, which is a good thing because Will had not grown an inch in the two years that she had been there.  That in itself was very unusual for a boy. She should have moved on by now, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Brock didn’t make a reply, and Sabrina was happy to see the creek in the distance.  At least cleaning the curtains would give her something to concentrate on besides looking at Brock.  She couldn’t help it.  He was perfect: tall, muscular, handsome, smart, everything she would want in a man. And he thought she was a boy. Great. 

They pulled up to the creek and ground-tied their horses.  They’d had several bad storms lately and the creek was at its brink. The water was rushing fast, which would make it easier to clean the curtains. 

Brock lifted one eyebrow, looking at the water. “How deep is this creek?”

“About a foot normally; maybe two feet now.  You aren’t scared of water, are you?”  Sabrina asked with a mocking tone in her voice.  He glared at her.

“I just have respect for mother nature is all.” 

Sabrina grinned as she rolled up her pant legs to her knees and took off her boots; she left her socks on to help with traction on the moss covered rocks. She grabbed one end of a panel and gestured for him to grab the other end.  She waded in first.  Carefully picking her way across the slippery rocks on the bottom, she turned and instructed Brock to dunk the unfurled cloth into the water in time with her.  The swift water aided their task and soon the curtain was back to a dingy beige color. They twisted the cloth between them, wringing out what excess water they could. Sabrina crossed back over, holding the clean cloth up high.  Brock grabbed it and spread it out over some nearby bushes to dry.