Kents bride western lawm.., p.1
Kent's Bride (Western Lawmen Brides Book 3), page 1
KENT’S BRIDE
(WESTERN LAWMEN BRIDES BOOK 3)
By
MARGARET TANNER
Copyright
Copyright 2022 – Kent’s Bride (Western Lawmen Brides) – Margaret Tanner
Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.
This story is a work of fiction, and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting and geography. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Author Links
About the Author
Acknowledgements
To my lovely readers: Thank you so much for your support. I truly appreciate it.
Cover Artist: Charlene Raddon – Silver Sage Books
Editor: Trudy Cordle
Chapter One
Fort Renegade, Nevada – 1870’s
“I won’t rest, Rob, until Oslow is caught. The evil varmint lured my deputy into a trap then shot him down like a rabid dog.”
“It was a cold-blooded act, but Kent, going off half-cocked won’t solve a thing; it will get you killed,” Major Rob Broderick said.
“Are you sure you can’t spare me a small platoon?”
“I’m sorry; until my reinforcements arrive, I barely have enough soldiers to keep the fort functioning.”
Rob had served with him during the war and Kent had, in the past and still would, trust his friend with his life. “I can’t wait that long. Oslow already has a few days head start on me as it is. At least my deputy was able to tell someone the polecat was headed to the badlands over Yellow Hill way.”
“Yellow Hill,” Rob repeated. “I might be able to help you there. I know a woman who…”
“Oh, yeah, just one woman,” Kent jeered. Rob had always been able to draw the prettiest females. It was so easy for him when they fell into his hand like ripe plums. Whereas he became tongue tied or turned into a gibbering wreck if they even spoke to him.
“I’ve got no romantic interest in her. Remember, I told you about the white woman we rescued from the Indians after she had been living with them for years.”
“I think so. What about her?” If his friend was going to try his hand at matchmaking, he’d better forget it. He had too much on his mind now to even think about a woman, let alone try to court one.
“She knows the Yellow Hill country well and can track as good as any Indian I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t need some old crone to show me around,” Kent said indignantly. “I always work better alone.”
“You don’t know the area like she does. Sarah Whitmore is her name, and she lives in a rundown place a few miles out of Yellow Hill.”
“If you can’t provide a few experienced soldiers, I’d rather track Oslow on my own. Lewis McShane is happy to come out of retirement, under the circumstances, to look after Silver Blade for me. Neil had been his deputy, as well, and he’s real broken up at what happened.”
“Okay, go it alone, but Kent, check in with this Whitmore woman. At the very least she’d give you a few directions.”
“Why would she bother helping me?”
“Because the army pays her a yearly striped to be available to help us, if necessary. She does have a little…”
“I’ll think about it,” Kent cut him off. “I’m anxious not to waste any more time. I just can’t believe poor Neil is dead. He was going to retire in a few months. If I get my hands on Oslow, I…”
“Forget about revenge. You need a good plan and to keep a cool head. The situation is fraught with danger with you going in on your own. Couldn’t you form a posse?”
“How can I ask men to be away from their families for days, if not weeks? It’s better for them to be available if Lewis needs them.”
“I suppose so; I don’t like it, though.”
“It has to be done. What Oslow did would send a shiver down every lawman’s spine. It was the cold-bloodedness of such a senseless killing that really riled me. Anyway, I better be on my way.”
“Good luck. If my reinforcements come within the next couple of days, I’ll send a couple of men out to catch up with you. It’s the best I can do.”
“Thanks, Rob, I appreciate it.” Kent shook hands with his friend and strode out of the office, mounted his horse and rode away.
He wasn’t a coward, yet he didn’t have a good feeling about this. There were too many things that might grow wrong. It wouldn’t deter him. He would bring Oslow in dead or alive. Neil’s wanton slaying needs to be avenged and who better than me to do it.
***
Two days later after a long, hard ride, Kent reached Yellow Hill. It was a nondescript little town few passersby would visit unless they were desperate. In another couple of years, it would probably be a ghost town as two of the large ranchers were gobbling up the smaller spreads, driving the families out. If it wasn’t for the trail drives intermittently passing through, and the odd small wagon train full of miners and their families bound for the silver mine about twenty miles away, the place would already be dead.
He ran his hand across his bristly chin, took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. It felt so hot he wondered whether the fires of hell hadn’t somehow opened and spewed out their heat.
In the distance, he could see yellow-colored hills standing like giant monoliths as they sweltered in the sun. He would need to carry plenty of water into the desert with him; that was a certainty.
A small café stood opposite the general store, and further up the dusty street was the Golden Bird saloon and the ramshackle livery stable.
The overbaked street was a dirty yellow color, causing his horse’s hooves to leave a dust cloud in their wake.
A couple of trees covered in brittle brown leaves looked to be fighting for survival. Once he rode toward the desert it would get even worse. What a Godforsaken piece of Nevada this area was.
If he had a decent meal at the café, it would fortify him for the job ahead. Once he left here, he would only eat from the supplies he carried in his saddlebag.
Dismounting, he tied his horse to the hitching rail outside the ‘Good Eats Café.’ He only hoped it lived up to its name and the food was good. A nice steak would go down well.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside the small café, which had half a dozen tables and chairs set out at close intervals. A middle-aged woman bustled up to him. “Good afternoon, um, Sheriff.” She must have noticed the badge pinned to his vest.
“Good afternoon.”
The woman led him over to a table by the window and as he followed her, he glanced around, assessing the layout of the place, a habit he had gotten into years ago. It was the second table from the front, and he normally liked to sit with his back to a wall; still, he could see everyone who stepped through the door from here.
He nodded to the elderly matron who sat at the next able and she inclined her head. Sour faced old biddy.
“What would you like to order?”
“I’ll have a steak, please, with potato mash and greens.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes please, strong black. You don’t happen to know where Sarah Whitmore lives, do you?”
“Yes, ride past the livery stable then keep going straight ahead for about four miles until you come to a deformed tree growing on your right, turn there and travel for a few hundred yards and you’ll see the shack. It’s part of an old gold mining claim. You’ll easily find it.”
“Thanks.”
“Your food won’t be long.” She bustled off.
“Young man. Decent folk don’t go anywhere near that squaw woman,” the woman at the next table said.
“I beg your pardon?”
The woman gave a self-righteous sniff. “I said, don’t go anywhere near her. The harlot lived with those savages for years and came back with some Indian buck’s brat in tow.”
He was so shocked at the venom in her voice he was speechless for a moment or two. “Madam, if I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Until then, mind your own business.”
“Well, really.” She got to her feet and stomped off.
Not long afterward the waitress brought his meal over. For a moment or two he thought the horrible old biddy’s outburst had snatched away his appetite, until the aroma of the steak quickly changed his mind.
Chapter Two
Sarah pulled the buckboard up at the back of the general store, and climbed down before turning to lift three-year-old Bessie out. “Stay close to me, won’t you, sweetheart? There are too many awful people around this town.”
She had brought in a load of
It was a bitter pill to swallow that even after two years, most of the townsfolk still thought of her as a squaw and treated her accordingly. The Indians these people scorned and denigrated had treated her better than her own kind after pa had died when she was ten. The medicine man and his mother had brought her up as if she were their own flesh and blood.
Holding Bessie by the hand she walked to the open back door and called out. “Floyd, are you there?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Sarah. I’ve got a few pelts for you.”
Floyd plodded out. He was a thickset, florid man who had run to fat and his wife was of similar stature. Where the couple differed was that he was always polite to her whilst his wife avoided any contact. Always refusing to serve her, and rudely turning away when she entered the store.
“I was starting to get worried when you didn’t show up last week.”
“Bessie was a little off-color and I thought it best not to bring her out in case people thought she might have something contagious.”
“You okay, little lady?” Floyd dipped his hand into a glass jar on the counter and handed her a candy stick.
Bessie’s smile lit up her face and somehow emphasized the blueness of her eyes. “Foyd.”
“Thanks, Floyd, it’s nice of you to give her the candy stick, she always looks forward to coming in here.”
“I reckon every kid is entitled to a candy stick once in a while.” His wife didn’t, though. She was a bitter, miserable woman who would never let what happened in the past rest. Any new person who came to Yellow Hill, she would gleefully regale them with the story, making her life with the Indians sound sordid with distortion and lies. If she could have run her and Bessie out of town, she would have. Why the woman hated her so much, she had no idea.
“Browse around and pick out what you need, while I get the pelts. The fur man is calling in at the end of the week. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to bring any in.”
“Thanks, Floyd. I wouldn’t let you down. The trapping is a bit lean at the moment, although there are always a few to be had. I’ve brought in more of the sagebrush balm than normal, also the tonic.”
“Good, I’ll take as much as you can provide.”
Sarah would make more of her potions, only it was harder to collect the plants now Bessie was growing bigger. She normally carried her in a sling across her back, but the heavier her daughter became, the harder it was to carry her for any length of time.
“I’ll need a few more bottles and jars, too. I’m starting to run short.”
“Okay. I got a new shipment in the other day, so I’ve already packed a box of them for you. The supplier raised his prices, meaning I have to do the same to you to cover my costs. I don’t think it’s worth losing customers by putting the price up. There are some miserable varmints living around here.”
She knew this; also that his wife was one of the worst offenders. She was the type of woman who would try to squeeze blood out of a stone and still not be satisfied. “I understand. I know you treat me as fairly as you can.”
He glanced around to make sure his wife wasn’t nearby. “I bought a couple of rolls of muslin cheap a week ago from a traveling salesman. He didn’t say where it came from or why it was cheap, and I didn’t ask. I’ve got my suspicions, though.” He tapped his nose with his forefinger. “Anyway, I put some of it away for your lavender bags. I told Vera they weren’t full rolls.”
“Thanks, I’m grateful for anything I can do to keep my costs down.”
“I folded it up and wrapped paper around it and shoved it in a sack for you. I’ll put it with the rest of your supplies. It might pay you to take it out when you get home to let the creases drop out.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“Wait here and I’ll go get the pelts and your potions, then we can sort your order out.”
Holding Bessie’s hand, Sarah wandered around the store, making sure not to venture anywhere near Vera, who was standing near the front staring at her with daggers practically shooting out of her eyes. If the woman had her way, she would be barred from entering the shop, such was her hatred. Thankfully, Floyd needed the pelts and potions she provided. Underneath his sometimes gruff exterior, he was a decent and honest man.
Enviously, she glanced at the pretty bonnets and dresses on the store dummies. Would she ever know the pleasure of wearing store bought clothes? Probably not. Most times she couldn’t even afford to buy material, unless it was marked down, to make clothes for herself. Often around the house or when she went off collecting the plants she needed for her potions, she wore buckskin trousers and a shirt to make it easier to move around. It also hid her gender, in case there were men riding by who might want to do her harm.
Thankfully, few people ventured into the desert country unless they were going there to hide in the canyons and caves that abounded. She also knew the areas to avoid.
She almost trailed her hand along a bolt of pink silky material but stopped herself, as Vera would be watching her every move. If she so much as put a finger on it, the evil witch would make her buy it.
There was a display of colorful blocks not far from where she stood. Bessie must have been attracted to it and tried to shake her hand free to get over to it. To make sure she didn’t, Sarah picked her up. How she would love to be able to buy her daughter a few toys. It wasn’t possible at the moment. One day I’ll be able to buy both of us what we want. Who was she kidding? That day would never come.
When Floyd returned, she handed him her list. Not that it changed much. She mainly only bought the basics, flour, rice, salt, sugar, coffee, molasses and a small amount of dried fruit. Combined with what they produced themselves, they ate reasonably well.
“You be careful, Sarah, when you’re wandering around. That ruthless varmint who ambushed the deputy sheriff of Silver Blade is still on the run. I heard he might have hooked up with those renegades the authorities can’t seem to catch.”
“Thanks, I’ll be extra vigilant.”
“It isn’t right a young woman has to traipse around those places on her own. Your pa would be turning over in his grave if he knew how you had to live. Maybe you might have been better off on the reservation with the others.”
“Probably, only the army wouldn’t let me stay because I was white. They dumped me back here and forgot about me. Unless they want to utilize my tracking skills.” She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice. “Then they come calling.” Still, she couldn’t antagonize them because of the twenty dollars they paid her every quarter, small though the amount was, for her to be at their beck and call if they needed her tracking skills.
“It’s not right the way you’ve been treated. If only you had some relatives to turn to.”
“There’s no-one, but we manage, don’t we, baby?” She gave Bessie a hug and the little girl wrapped her arms around her neck and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “We’ve got enough food and a roof over our heads. If I left here, we wouldn’t even have that.”
“I’ll help you carry your supplies out to the buckboard.”
“Thanks, Floyd. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.” He was the only man around town who treated her with respect and kindness, now the preacher had left and not been replaced.
Chapter Three
Kent unhitched his horse and mounted. Maybe it would be a wise move to check in with this Sarah Whitmore woman, and perhaps with her help, he would be able to make up a little ground on Oslow. It went against the grain having to ask anyone for help, let alone a stranger and a woman.
He had only ridden about twenty yards when he saw an old buckboard surrounded by several boys. He kneed his horse forward.
