Cooper's Wife

“Meg.” Fear snaked down her spine. She twisted around, straining to see through the impossible dark. “We can’t leave her.”

“Don’t worry.” Ben pulled the wagon off the road and set the brake. “If there’s any trouble, you go on without me.”

Ben jumped down, took out his revolver, and ran. Anna sat in the wagon for what felt like hours, fearing the worst. Dalton wouldn’t hurt Meg, would he?

Finally Ben returned. Meg had feigned innocence and told Dalton and his men that Anna had headed south toward Wyoming. They had believed her, believed Anna had said nothing about Dalton’s dual identity. Meg’s lie would buy them enough time to reach Rubydale and the morning’s stage. If their luck held.

“Mrs. Bauer?”

His voice came low and gentle, but Anna bolted away from the window. A man towered in the threshold, nothing but shadows and powerful male steel and strength.

“I couldn’t find your daughter’s storybook.” The sheriff lifted one shoulder in an apologetic shrug.

“Thank you for looking.”

“It was no problem.” He strolled closer, his boots resounding on the floorboards. “But I didn’t want to come here empty-handed, so I brought my daughter’s book. It will have to be a loan, I’m afraid. But you keep it as long as your little one needs to hear stories.”

Anna’s throat tightened. “I can’t tell you how—” Tears stung her eyes. “This means a lot.”

“Is there anything I can get you?” He offered her the book gripped by big, blunt-tipped fingers. Very male. Very capable.

“You’ve done so much already.” Anna took the well-worn volume that looked lovingly opened and read across many years. “It’s late. You should be home with your family, and yet you’re here.”

“I’m on my way home. I just felt sorry for your little one. I’m partly responsible. If my men and I had arrived earlier, we might have prevented this.” He knuckled back his hat, and she could see the shine of sincerity, of strength. “Good night, Mrs. Bauer. I’ll check back with you tomorrow morning. If your daughter is improving, I’ll need to ask you some questions.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?”

“About the outlaws.” His voice was calm. “You saw the men up close. I would like to write up a report on what happened. I keep m contact with other lawmen in the county. We need to work together to catch those outlaws, and you can help.”

“I see.” She thought about that. This sheriff was in contact with other lawmen in the area. Dalton Jennings was also a lawman just a few counties away. “I didn’t get a very good look at the robbers. They wore bandannas.”

“Think on it. I’ll check back tomorrow.” His voice soothed. Or maybe it was his strength, his competence that radiated like heat from a summer sun.

“The book will make a difference, Sheriff,” she called him back, unable to let him go, still touched by his generosity. “I will return it as soon as I can.”

“Cooper, remember?” His smile was warm, and then he was gone.

She wasn’t used to calling men by their given names. But the warmth in her chest put there by his smile and thoughtfulness didn’t fade with his departure. He’d brought his own daughter’s book. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe a perfect stranger would be so kind.

Mandy still slept, her breathing shallow and uneven. Anna turned up the wick and smoothed open the book.

On the inside cover was a mark, a child’s handwritten scrawl. Anna peered close to look at it, to make out the careful, badly formed and somehow familiar letters. Katie Braddock, it said.

The sheriffs daughter. Cooper’s daughter.

The book fell from her fingers, clattered to the floor. The sound reverberated through the room, but it wasn’t as loud as the pounding of her heart.

That handsome, wonderful man who’d rescued her daughter, who’d taken care of them both. Was he truly Cooper Braddock? The man she’d come to marry?

Chapter Three

“Katie, don’t slurp your oatmeal.” Cooper reached for the sugar jar. “It’s not ladylike.”

“I’m in a hurry. Davy and me are ridin’ ponies.”

“Did I say you could do something so foolish?” He spooned sugar into his steaming cup of coffee and struggled to keep a straight face.

“Ridin’ ponies ain’t foolish, Papa. It’s fun.”

He clinked the lid down on the jar. “It’s not something a polite little girl does with her time.”

“Papa,” little Maisie chimed in, “Katie ain’t never polite.”

“True.” He laughed at his littlest, wishing he could spend more time with his daughters this morning. Thinking of the Bauer girl who may not survive, he knew he ought to carve out the time. But his work—and his sworn duty—called. “Katie, I want you to obey Mrs. Potts today.”

“You know I try real hard, Papa.” Katie wiped off her milk mustache with a practiced swipe of her sleeve.

“Try harder.” Making a little lady out of his firstborn could prove impossible. “I heard all about the trouble you caused yesterday from Laura. I’m none too pleased with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Katie bowed her chin.

“But I didn’t cause no trouble, Papa.” Maisie was all golden curls and big blue eyes. “I was a good girl.”

“I already knew that.” He kissed both girls on the forehead and took the coffee cup with him. “Katie, I want you to do something for me.”

“I don’t gotta embroider, do I?”

Shouldn’t a little girl want to embroider? “Gather up a few of Maisie’s dresses and nighties she’s outgrown, bundle them up, and take them over to the doc’s. There’s a little girl who was hurt in the stage accident yesterday, and she lost nearly all of her belongings.”

Maisie gasped. “Even her bunny?”

He saw the stuffed animal on the floor beneath his littlest one’s chair. “Yes, even her bunny.”

“How does she sleep?”

“Only babies need a bunny.” Katie dropped her spoon with a clatter. “Papa, you want me to do it now?”

“Yes, before you go play with Davy. Promise me.”

Katie thought about it, obviously torn at the sad idea of a hurt little girl and tempted by a wild morning racing ponies. “I promise, Papa. I’ll do it right away.”

“That’s my girl.” Despite her spiritedness, she was a good child. “Take the clothes over to the clinic and ask for Mrs. Bauer.”

“Mrs. Bauer?” Katie froze stiff as an icicle.

“That’s what I said. She’s a real nice lady, so don’t scare her with any matchmaking schemes. She has enough worries on her mind.”

“Uh, what does she look like, Papa?”