The Sheriff's Rebellious Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 6

  Maybe it was rude of her to think something like this. Unfortunately, her mother was a rather troubled woman, and her words needed to be taken with a grain of salt. Sometimes her mother had trouble differentiating reality from fantasy, just as she was prone to confuse the present with the past. The physician said those were all normal traits considering her affliction, but it did make their lives more difficult at times.

  I need to go there right this instant and see for myself what truly happened. Geraldine was reluctant to leave. Her mother was still too upset for Geraldine to feel comfortable leaving her all alone. On the other hand, she was worried about Elsa. And the merry-go-round inside her head continued to spin. “All right,” Geraldine forced herself to stop panicking. “I will go to the ranch and check up on Elsa.” That would put an end to this drama.

  “No!” Her mother started screaming in pure panic while clutching onto Geraldine. She was surprisingly strong for a woman of her stature, Geraldine could not help but notice.

  “I have to go, Mom,” Geraldine tried to reason with her. “Elsa might be in trouble, hurt and not—” She couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence.

  “No,” her mother insisted, firmly shaking her head.

  “It's not that I do not believe you, but maybe you saw it wrong, maybe Elsa is still alive, but hurt badly. I need to go and see if I can help,” Geraldine insisted.

  “Elsa is dead. But what if whoever did that to her is still out there?” Her mother challenged, and actually, that was a rather good point and it made Geraldine pause.

  No, I cannot simply stand by. “It makes no difference.”

  “You cannot go, Geraldine. I forbid it,” she rushed over her words. Her mother seldom used that authoritative voice on her. Partly because Geraldine was taking care of her for years now, making their roles somewhat reversed, and partly because Geraldine was a grown woman of twenty-two years and not a child to be scolded.

  Despite the fact that she respected and loved her mother immensely, she was an adult and as such, fully capable of making her own decisions. Her mother could forbid her something only if Geraldine allowed such a thing in the first place, and in this case, she would not.

  “I have to go,” Geraldine said in a much softer voice. “Please understand. She is your best friend and my dear aunt. We mustn't leave her like that.”

  Maybe the situation wasn't that dire, Geraldine repeated to herself. “I will be all right. I will be careful,” she continued this mantra.

  “Oh, Geraldine,” her mother cried even harder, hugging her close to her body, physically trying to prevent her from walking away. Geraldine was far stronger than her mother and would never use force to break free.

  “Mother, please calm down.”

  “You cannot leave.”

  “Please let me go.”

  “No.”

  This is not working. Geraldine sighed and firmly, carefully extracted herself from her mother's grip. Her mother tried to capture her again; Geraldine held her by the hands forcing her to look at her. “I will just go to check up on her and be back before you know it, in a jiffy.”

  “You cannot leave me here alone,” her mother cried out, just as Geraldine feared she would.

  “Elsa might need us,” Geraldine was slowly losing patience.

  “I will go with you.” Her mother said, surprising her. Geraldine gave it a quick thought then sighed.

  “As you wish.” At that point, Geraldine would agree to anything as long as it kept her mother calm, or calmer, and moved them away from this verbal impasse.

  I wish I thought of this sooner, maybe then we wouldn't waste so much precious time. “Let's go,” Geraldine urged her.

  Quickly, she took out Whitey from the small stable and harnessed him to a cart, silently cursing herself for not making sure if the wagon was safe enough for riding. There was no time for her to do it now. I will just have to be careful while driving and pray for the best.

  She urged Whitey to go really slowly because she did not want another accident on her hands, especially with an extra passenger, despite the urgency of the situation. In any other circumstances, Geraldine would make a run for the other ranch, yet she could not do that now since her mother was with her.

  Stephanie Laurel was quiet and unnaturally still sitting next to Geraldine, and that was quite worrisome. If she did indeed see Elsa dead, Geraldine made herself think it was a possibility her mother would never recover from this additional shock. In her whole life, Stephanie cared for only three people. Geraldine, Geraldine's father, and Elsa. There was no saying what would happen to her if she lost Elsa as well.

  Do not think about it just yet, Geraldine cautioned herself. First, discover what actually happened and then... She did not know what then. Panic? Geraldine was having second thoughts... Maybe I should have left Mother home. That would create another set of problems, because Geraldine could not be at two different places at the same time. Her mother could try and hurt herself if Geraldine wasn't there to calm her down. Besides, what if confronting her with the things that caused her trauma to begin with worsen her condition?

  It's better if Mother is at my side, she informed herself firmly. Or so she hoped.

  Eons later, once they finally reached the Black Tail Ranch, under Geraldine’s command, Whitey came to a stop. He got animated sensing other horses. Geraldine didn't have time to release him to socialize with his former stall mates. Instead, she leaped down and started running toward the house, hoping her mom would remain put.

  No such luck, she thought in exasperation sensing her mother running behind her. Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the front door quickly. The door was wide open and she simply walked in.

  “Aunt Elsa?” She started calling out to her. She wasn't her true aunt, but she was such a big part of her life that her mom and Geraldine always treated her like family. Dread started to seep through her being as nobody responded back. Elsa wasn't feeling well this past couple of months, so it was safe to assume she was inside the house.

  “Auntie? Where are you?” Geraldine tried again, entering the living room. Elsa was a rather chatty person, sometimes she even talked in her sleep, so if she was inside the house they would know. It stood to reason to assume she was someplace else. Or dead, Geraldine's eyes started to tear up. No. Don't go there just yet. She stopped herself from going down that dark road of her thoughts. “Maybe she's sleeping?” Geraldine said out loud, but her mother didn't respond. “She stopped using the upstairs bedroom, it was too hard for her to climb up and down the stairs of late,” she explained.

  That leaves the kitchen, Geraldine thought with trepidation. Moving toward the kitchen, her stride became much slower than usual.

  The door to that room was closed and Geraldine paused and stood in front of it. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob.

  Why was this suddenly so hard on her? she wondered as tears appeared, and she frowned deeply trying to clear them. You are not going to cry, Geraldine Laurel, she informed herself sternly. Now stop making a big fuss out of things, like a coward. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Geraldine pushed the door opened and entered the kitchen and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  * * *

  Geraldine couldn't stop screaming until she slapped her hand across her lips. She sobbed. Mom was right. Oh, sweet Lord, have mercy on her poor soul. Mom was right. Elsa is dead. Murdered. Oh no. Not poor, sweet Elsa.

  Why?

  Geraldine forced herself to calm enough down so she could survey the scene in front of her more efficiently. Unfortunately, that was not easy considering Geraldine had never seen a dead person before and this in front of her was no ordinary person, but someone she knew and deeply loved. Elsa was such a huge part of her life. Geraldine considered her family, so this tore her to pieces.

  Sadly, she didn't even have to go to Elsa’s body; the evidence of murder was obvious. Elsa was sprawled on the kitchen floor in an unnatural position, and a rope was firmly tied
around her neck, making her face distorted and forever frozen in a macabre expression. She was strangled. Taking it all in, Geraldine felt sick to her stomach. You must stay strong, she told her rolling abdomen.

  Oh, poor Elsa. Her willpower wavered looking at her in such state. Who would do such a heinous thing?

  “She is dead, isn't she?” Her mom asked from the doorway, startling Geraldine and making her jump. Geraldine completely forgot her mother was with her. So much for being careful. Geraldine's previous words to her mother backfired. A murderer could still be here, and she would be none the wiser, distraught as she is. Geraldine could probably end up dead as well, sprawled next to Aunt Elsa.

  Well, I must be in shock as well, since those were some strange thoughts to have at the moment. Only then did she remember her mom asked her a question, and a rather simple one at that. “I believe so,” Geraldine heard herself speaking, yet her voice was all wrong, thin and lifeless. Lifeless... just like Aunt Elsa.

  Focus, Geraldine, this is not the time for falling apart. She turned away from the body, not being able to withstand the sight any longer and started retreating away from the kitchen. Geraldine pulled her crying mother along the way and together they left the house altogether.

  Poor Aunt Elsa, she did not deserve to die in such fashion, alone and scared. “Let's go,” Geraldine urged.

  “We cannot just leave her in such fashion,” her mother rebelled, while tears marred her face, and Geraldine was glad that despite the situation some of her mother's old spirit was returning. “We have to inform the authorities of what happened.” Oh, we do not have a sheriff’s department, Geraldine reminded herself as her mother did the same.

  What am I to do? Geraldine's mind raced. She needed to do something; her mom was right, they couldn't leave Elsa like that.

  Should I go back and cover her? No, she abandoned that notion immediately. She needed to leave everything as is and call out for help. The person or people responsible must be brought to justice. “I have to go to town,” Geraldine had a sudden realization, she knew precisely what needed to be done.

  “You can't leave me here!”

  Geraldine turned to face her. “You mustn't stay here. Go home immediately and stay there.”

  “But I, you—”

  “Please, Mother, just wait for me there. I must alert the townspeople of what happened here.” Geraldine was at the end of her rope, and she really needed her mother sane for a change. She couldn't leave if she was worried about her. Yet, on the other hand, she owed it to Elsa to hurry up and do something.

  “I don't want to be alone.”

  “Would you care to come with me?”

  Her mother started shaking her head even before Geraldine finished her sentence. “I don't want to leave the ranch.”

  Geraldine had half a mind to remind her she already did. This is not the time for that. “We have to call for help, so the person who did this to Elsa can be caught.”

  Something of what Geraldine said must have reached her since her mother's expression changed. “You are right, Geraldine. Go. I will be all right on my own.”

  “Are you sure?” Geraldine was now the one having doubts. The change was so swift it worried her. At the same time, maybe she was overthinking her next move. This is a good thing.

  “Yes, I am,” and without additional words, her mother ran toward Whitey. “You take one of Elsa's horses,” she said over her shoulder, “and I'll meet you back at the house. Be careful, Geraldine.”

  “I will, Mother.” Without wasting any more time, Geraldine went to the stable. She didn't even bother saddling one of the horses, Seabiscuit, before mounting it.

  Her father wanted a son, a true heir to the family business, which was keeping cattle, so Geraldine learned how to ride a horse long before she even knew how to walk properly. A skill that was now proven rather useful as she galloped toward the city. She needed to find Father Mathew and tell him what happened to Elsa.

  He will know what to do next, she was sure of that.

  Geraldine had to try really hard not to start crying again, thinking about Elsa. Later, she promised herself, urging Seabiscuit to run even faster. There will be plenty of time for crying later. Much, much, later, but not now.

  Not when there was a killer on the loose.

  Chapter Six

  Robert looked incredulously at the two men, Mr. O'Banion and Mr. Hanessy. They were standing in front of him, facing one another in fury and complete animosity. He was feeling as if he was observing a comical play he did not fully understand. He was also on high alert, ready to act if these two fools started to brawl again because they were fighting for a long time; Robert joined in when it reached its culmination. They even had to meet at the border between the two ranches, since they were neighbors, because things got that grave between them.

  This is ridiculous, I must be imagining it, Robert thought to himself and not for the first time.

  “Let me say this rather quickly, simply to see if I understood it correctly,” Robert started carefully while rubbing his brow. He could feel a migraine rising, and it wasn't even noon yet. A part of him wanted to get back to his station and check if this was truly a part of his job description. Some part of him was telling him that it was, yet logically, shouldn't be.

  The two men nodded, waiting for him to continue. Well, look at that, they could agree on something, Robert thought to himself without actual humor.

  “Samson is a cow?” He phrased it as a question because he still could not actually believe it himself.

  “A bull calf,” both men said at the same time.

  Robert really did not care at the moment. He just wanted this feud resolved. “All right, Samson is a bull calf?” He corrected himself.

  “Yes,” Mr. O'Banion said, and Mr. Hanessy said, “No.”

  Here we go again. Robert was convinced this was going to be one of those days, extremely long, tiring and frustrating.

  “His name is Nolan, and he is my calf,” Mr. Hanessy yelled, raising his fist in the air.

  “Liar, Samson belongs to me,” Mr. O'Banion snapped back.

  “How dare you call me a liar, you weasel.”

  “Who are you to call me a weasel.”

  Things were starting to get pretty heated again, and Robert had half a mind to simply let them resolve this their way because the two idiots were fighting over a cow. As far as Robert could piece the story together, the bull calf was produced by accident when Mr. O'Banion's bull escaped and roamed unto Mr. Hanessy's ranch and frolicked with the cows he found there. And now once the calf came unto the world, they could not agree where it belonged.

  This day was getting better and better, Robert thought in exasperation. On one hand, he really did not want someone to end up dead over a cow, on the other, he couldn't care less whose cow it was in the first place. They could saw it in half as far as he was concerned and be done with it.

  “Enough!” Robert yelled at the two men once he had had enough of this charade. He was convinced that if this was turned into a play, it would be a major success. Unfortunately, he was the only one seeing the comical aspect of this fight. Regrettably, this was serious business for Mr. O'Banion and Mr. Hanessy, and because of that, someone could get hurt.

  They will both get hurt when I lose my patience, Robert thought glumly because the fools started raising fists again and they were more than ready to approach one another for another round of fist-fighting. Yet once Robert raised his voice they paused. “I said enough!”

  It was good they did not have guns on them. That was the first thing Robert checked, or the fools would end up killing one another.

  And over a cow of all things. Robert simply could not believe what was happening around him.

  First, he had to save Mike who brawled over a boot, and now he had this pair of buffoons doing the same over a darn cow. Ridiculous! He felt like people around him lost all their senses and he was the only one left sane. It was not a pleasant experience. “I want y
ou to listen to me, and listen to me good,” Robert continued, using his most menacing voice. “I do not care how or why this happened, but I want you to find a solution right here. This fight ends now.”

  It was more than apparent they wanted to protest, hearing him say all that; however, he did not give them an opportunity to challenge him. “Find a mutual solution, share the cow for all I care. If you force me to come back because of a cow, I will throw both of you in jail,” Robert threatened, and actually meant every word. He had a serious job to do, dealing with bandits, bank robbers, and murderers; he couldn't waste his time on this nonsense. It looked just too petty for him to argue about such matters, yet he kept that opinion to himself. He did not want to scold them even further, despite his previous words.