The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 2

  She stumbled and hit the table in the process; she fully ignored the pain in her leg that followed. Over time she became good at that, ignoring the pain. “Why won't you just die!”

  “And ruin all this fun?” Elsa smirked, panting.

  “You are a wicked woman, Elsa Potter.”

  Oh, you have no idea... “And you are not as you appeared to be.” Elsa made a brief pause before continuing. “Since everything is in the open now, I have something else to share with you.”

  She leaned forward and continued to speak in a hushed voice as if sharing some big secret.

  “You are lying,” her murderer yelled once she finished, and Elsa smiled in return, letting her face show the truth.

  “No!” The attacker came at her again, trying to pull a makeshift noose around her neck, but Elsa managed to grab hold of the rope. She did not know where this urge to fight, survive, came from, but she wasn't going to question it.

  “Ugh!” Elsa protested as the friction cut her hands, and she had to let it go. Her assaulter came at her again, and they struggled for a while; the pushback felt incredible to Elsa considering her state. In her moment of triumph, she managed to knock the rope out of the attacker's hands. The assailant raged for the loss of the weapon but did not want to surrender.

  Elsa was experiencing such an adrenaline rush, much the same as she did while competing, feeling better than she did in a long time. She even started wondering why something like that did not happen sooner, because the heady feeling was simply divine and something she honestly missed from her past life.

  Unfortunately, her streak of bad luck decided to return, was persistent, and her bad leg failed in the worst moment. She was to pivot away from the assault, since the intruder came at her with a fierce battle cry, planning to hurt her with bare hands. Instead, her leg buckled underneath her weight, and Elsa fell to her knees. She did not get a chance to get up again. Instantly, she could feel the rope tied around her neck, and without losing momentum, pulled hard, making it not only difficult but next to impossible to breathe.

  Did you really hope for a different outcome? she asked herself in all sincerity.

  Elsa pried the rope with her hands trying to pull it away, but alas, it was too tight. The more she struggled, the harder it got for her to fight back.

  Suddenly, there was a small reprieve as the assailant moved to stand in front of her. “I want you to look at me while you die.” Unfortunately, Elsa was too lightheaded to react in time, and the whole process started again.

  Elsa looked in the eyes of the familiar face and saw only hate while the aggressor shouted in triumph, pushing her backward. She tried to fight back, in panic, gasping for air but it was all in vain.

  She fell backward on the floor, and the intruder’s body weight pinned her down, choking the life out of her. The rope burned her skin as much as the lack of oxygen burned her lungs. “Die!” the voice shrieked in absolute rage. Elsa tried to fight back once more, to push the attacker away, but she couldn't. Her arms suddenly felt too heavy. She thrashed about, praying to the heavens to help her start breathing again as tears streamed down her face.

  No, please, no.

  The pain didn't last long. In fact, all the pain was gone.

  She continued to look at the person who was taking her life. The last face she would see on earth. Maybe this is for the best. All her suffering was finally over. The suffering she caused to other people as well...

  I am sorry for everything, Elsa thought to herself since she could not actually utter the words. Those last words that were meant for her murderer would never be heard. Her eyes stayed wide open looking at the person who last saw her alive. After a few minutes in silence, the eyes were closed by the same hands that caused her death. Then, there was nothing.

  Chapter One

  The sun wasn't completely up that morning, yet Geraldine's mind was racing with things she needed to accomplish that day.

  Water the vegetable fields, feed the chickens, collect the eggs, pay Mr. O'Brien for last week's groceries, make breakfast for Mom... Oh, check those loose roof tiles since it looks like the storm is on the way... And on and on it went. Her list of chores appeared never-ending at times. That was why Geraldine had to get up even before sunrise simply to stay ahead of things. Sometimes, she was indeed victorious.

  After doing her first quick round on the farm, Geraldine went back inside the house to prepare breakfast. Balancing the plates and a tall glass of sweet tea on the platter, she carefully carried it to her Mom's room.

  Please don't trip, please don't trip, she repeated this mantra, not wanting to lose her precious load. It wasn't that she was clumsy per se, it was more that her feet at times refused to listen to her and wanted to go their separate way. At least, that was how she looked at things. Others simply called her awkward, which she did not appreciate one bit.

  Her mom's room was completely dark as she entered, and that was usually a very bad sign, yet Geraldine decided to remain sanguine and not be rash with her conclusions. Sometimes, you do think too much.

  “Mom? Time to wake up,” she called out softly, approaching the bed. She placed the tray on the nightstand, the path she knew by heart, since she couldn't actually see it before going to the window and removing the dark heavy drapes that prevented light from entering. The light poured in and instantly changed everything. Much better.

  Geraldine's mother stirred in the bed yet said nothing.

  “Good morning, Mom,” Geraldine tried again. “I brought you some breakfast.”

  “I'm not hungry, dear,” a muffled response came. She was speaking with Geraldine, which was a good sign.

  Geraldine sat on the edge of the bed, and softly pulled the comforter from her mother’s face. “It's time for your medicine as well,” she explained, offering a small smile.

  “I don't want to take it,” she complained. “It's bitter.”

  “Mom, you know it will make you feel better.” Geraldine poured some tonic on the spoon and pleadingly offered it to her mother.

  Luckily, she did not have to wait long before her mother rose ever so slightly and opened her mouth. Geraldine poured in the tonic that a family's physician had prepared for her, without spilling a drop, while her mother made a face. So, Geraldine offered her some sweetened tea next, and she accepted that as well. Her mother drank profusely, which somewhat put Geraldine at ease, before offering it back. Geraldine placed the empty glass on the table.

  “I want to go back to sleep now,” her mother announced, but Geraldine did not like that idea. Her condition always worsened if she spent too much time in bed. She needs something to occupy her fragile mind, the physician's words echoed inside Geraldine's head.

  “Are you sure you don't want to go to the market with me today? Father Mathew would be happy to see you,” Geraldine asked full of hope like she did every morning.

  Her mother shook her head. “No. I feel rather tired. Some other time,” was her usual response.

  “All right. How about working in the garden for a bit, after you rest, of course? It is a mighty fine day outside.”

  Her mother thought about that for a moment. “Maybe later,” she allowed. Geraldine sighed. Her mother was clearly having one of her bad days. She was certainly going to spend all day in bed. Thinking about the past and tormenting herself and without eating anything, despite the fact that Geraldine prepared everything for her, all her favorites; and that worried her the most. Her mother was naturally frail-looking, and she had already lost some weight in the last couple of months. The last thing Geraldine wanted was for her mother to fall ill from malnourishment on top of everything else.

  Suddenly an idea presented itself. “Maybe you could go and visit Elsa,” Geraldine said, trying not to sound too excited about the idea. She learned the hard way her mother did not respond well to such behavior. So, Geraldine made sure her face and voice remained neutral while speaking. “I am sure she would love some company.”

  Elsa Potter was
their neighbor and her mother's best friend. Her only friend, she corrected herself. After her mother had her biggest nervous collapse, Elsa was the only one that stood beside her and continued to come and visit while others tended to shun them away, as if that was something they should be ashamed of or something that was highly contagious. Things were better now, yet Geraldine never fully forgave the people she considered family friends for their poor behavior.

  Elsa was different. That woman had led an extraordinary life. Geraldine loved to hear her stories and was very grateful her mother had such a good friend in her life. One that was not afraid to lead her life her way. Or care what other people thought.

  Geraldine's mother never left the farm anymore to go to town, not after her husband disappeared. She experienced unexplainable fear when someone even suggested something like that to her. Geraldine presumed it was all due to the incredible gossip that spread through their town, and humiliation her mother had to endure because of it. Yet she had no problems visiting Elsa, which Geraldine considered a true miracle.

  Her mom would go visit her, and they would drink tea together, sometimes even prepare joint meals for the three of them. Elsa lived completely alone on her horse ranch, called Black Tail Ranch, and when she had the time, Geraldine visited her as well, simply so she could ride some of her horses.

  Unfortunately, Elsa's health was starting to deteriorate as of late, and Geraldine was truly worried about her, especially since she was all alone. She hoped some company from her mother would do Elsa some good. Would do some good to her mother as well.

  “That is a splendid idea, Geraldine,” her mother replied, eventually. “I will go to her as soon as I make some breakfast for your father.”

  “Father already left. I made something for him beforehand.” Father left ten years ago, yet she learned a long time ago not to correct her mother when she was acting like this. She would remember the truth pretty soon on her own, so there was no need for Geraldine to agitate her now for no real reason.

  “You are such a fine daughter. I am surely blessed.” She patted Geraldine on the cheek before returning her head on the pillow. “I will go to Elsa a bit later, though. I still feel a tad tired,” she added with a yawn.

  “All right. Have pleasant dreams, Mother.” She kissed her mother on the cheek before leaving the room. She didn't bother to close the curtains again. Her mother could use some sunlight anyway.

  After finishing some house chores, she gathered all the viands she planned on selling on the market, put them on the small cart, and hurried Whitey, their only horse, to start the journey toward the city.

  She was still worried about her mother as she rode. Geraldine really hoped she would take her advice and go to Elsa’s. As for Geraldine, she would do everything in her power to sell all she prepared in order to provide for her little family; she was all alone and had no other way. “Come on Whitey, time to face another day.”

  * * *

  “Oh no, no, no,” Geraldine exclaimed in exasperation. She saw the disaster unfolding in front of her eyes, yet she was completely powerless to stop it. She was carrying a basket of freshly collected eggs from the cart to the small booth on the town's square market she usually used for displaying her farm's products to be sold, when she tripped over her own feet. Maybe I am too clumsy for my own good! And without a doubt, they were all going to fall down and be broken when she needed the coins the most.

  Because she was too gawky or lost in the daydreams, she would lose half of her day's wages when she was supposed to mind her own feet. Either option was fairly unsatisfactory to Geraldine as an explanation. Stupid, silly girl!

  Out of nowhere, a baker's boy jumped in front of her, catching the basket with one hand while preventing her from falling onto her face with the other. Thank the heavens, Geraldine sent a silent prayer seeing all the eggs unbroken. “That was close,” he drawled in his usual manner. He always sounded as if it cost him a great deal of effort to actually speak.

  “Thank you, Jeremy,” Geraldine replied feeling genuinely grateful from the bottom of her heart, since she already counted on the money she would get from selling that basket. If she was lucky, that is.

  “My pleasure” he replied. Making sure she was steady enough, to which she responded with a scowl, Jeremy carried the load to the table instead of her. “You should be more careful in the future,” he added as an afterthought, as if she did that on purpose.

  Geraldine thought she was. In a way, at least... Without saying what was on her mind she turned away from him and hurried back toward her cart to grab another basket since she had some fruits and vegetables she wanted to sell as well, yet Jeremy followed her there.

  Carefully, he took the bigger basket, leaving the other one for her to carry, and she let him. She was not that proud to refuse some help, especially when she was this tired.

  Jeremy always smelled of freshly baked bread, and Geraldine's stomach immediately started to grumble. Once again, she forgot to eat, even though she prepared a meal for her mother. There were too many running thoughts inside her mind, thinking about all the things she needed to do, that she did not have time to spare to stop moving for even a second. Even for the most basic of things as eating.

  Later, she tried to reassure herself as she took another wistful whiff in Jeremy's direction. Her mouth practically watered. That was a bad idea. Her stomach started to protest louder.

  Jeremy looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Forgot to eat again?” he asked, as she pretended not to hear him while arranging her display of products. “I will get you a loaf as soon as I make some more,” he promised.

  “Jeremy,” Geraldine wanted to protest, yet his gaze forced her to stop. “Thank you for your help,” she said instead, and he nodded in return, satisfied she saw reason. Her empty stomach was relieved as well.

  Before parting, Jeremy paused, clearly having something more to say, and Geraldine had a pretty fair idea what it was going to be. “You really should marry and let a decent, God-fearing man take care of you instead of doing this every day.”

  Right again. Geraldine knew his heart was in the right place, yet she still did not appreciate his sentiments.

  Doing what? Providing for her ailing mother and herself? The way he said it, one could presume there was something wrong in honest-to-God labor. He was a hardworking man, and he took pride in what he did. Why should that be different for her? Because I'm a woman.

  Naturally, she did not share her private thoughts, yet responded in a different manner. “I do not believe a decent, God-fearing man,” she mimicked, “would want me. I am stubborn, self-sufficient, and overly opinionated. I would drive any man mad,” Geraldine only half-joked.

  Jeremy grinned at her in return. “That is true. You are like a feral cat,” he joked back, using her childhood nickname against her. “You need a tamer.”

  So, she threw an apple at him. Geraldine aimed at his head, yet he caught it quite easily. He bit into it triumphantly while walking away, and she wanted to roll her eyes at him. “You throw like a girl, Geraldine,” he said to her over his shoulder.

  “I am a girl, wiseacre. Just like you are a bad rider,” she shouted back earning a few looks her way from the local folks passing by. That was not a very lady-like behavior of her. Good thing she was no lady in the first place, she joked to herself.

  Jeremy scowled back, and his face promised retaliation, but she was not afraid of him. He was a true friend to her, ever since she hit Douglas Smith for making fun of Jeremy's flour-stained clothes, and she hoped that would never change.

  At times her life was difficult, yet Geraldine wouldn't trade it for anything else in this world. Her family owned a ranch near a small town called Oatman, right at the bottom of the Rocky Mountains.

  Nowadays, it was only her and her mother on the ranch. Once upon a time, when her father and grandfather ran it, it was the busiest place in the world.

  Sometimes Geraldine missed those days, however, she managed to keep it
together and make ends meet. They had to make a few changes over the years.

  When she was much younger than she was now, Geraldine's father simply disappeared, and her mother never fully recovered from that shock. Geraldine was convinced her mother refused to leave the farm for the same reason, because deep down she hoped he would come back.

  Geraldine stopped hoping for such a miracle to occur a long time ago.

  Her father simply vanished; it did not matter at that point if he simply walked away from them or something happened to him, because he left only pain and confusion in his wake.

  Peter Laurel had a big secret. He borrowed a large sum of money just before he disappeared, for what purpose she never learned, yet Geraldine was still paying off his debt.

  With her father gone, everything, all the responsibilities, problems, and worries fell onto Geraldine, and the strange thing was she did not mind. She would do anything for her mother and their little ranch. Predictably, being at that young age, Geraldine quickly became overwhelmed, and sadly had to come to terms she was not capable of running everything by herself. That forced her to learn who to trust and how to ask for help.