Chapter Four
Sheriff’s Quarters, Stevensville
Early morning
The room was freezing cold when Luke stirred.
A piece of paper stuck to his face when he lifted his head, blinking wildly, trying to wake up.
His Stetson had fallen off and lay next to his boots on the floor, but when he bent down to pick it up, thundering drums inside his skull forced him to move very, very slowly.
Drinking all that whiskey last night clearly hadn’t been his best idea, although it had helped numb his broken heart for a short while. The half-empty bottle was still standing right there, next to his hand on the pile of cluttered papers.
He hadn’t even made it home last night.
Home. That one word once held so much promise. Now, it felt like a bottomless pit.
He peeked at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was very early in the morning. It probably wasn’t even light out yet. His shoulders hurt, and his back was strained. At only thirty-three years old, he shouldn’t have been this broken and achy already.
Get yourself together, Luke!
Carefully raising his head again, he straightened himself up and stretched his long arms above it.
That’s when the icy cold in the room really hit him.
The fireplace was pitch black, not one ember to be seen.
As if to confirm his sorry state, his dry throat made him cough, and his breath created thick clouds in front of his face.
Looking back at the mess on his desk, he couldn’t face it.
It was overwhelming, because this despicable murder case… it was his family they’d been writing about.
He needed a break. He needed to go outside and get some fresh air. Maybe he’d feel better after that, ready to take on a new day as the responsible sheriff of his little town.
Shrugging into the heavy bison coat felt good.
It took some of the sting out of the cold in the room.
After combing his fingers through his unruly dark curls, he put his Stetson back on his head and glanced into the small mirror near the door.
His beard was a mess. He desperately needed grooming.
He should pay the barber in town a short visit.
Stepping out into the quiet morning, there was barely a slight pinkish hue all around.
It had snowed more during the night. On his way around the building to where the horses were kept in a small stall underneath an overhang, he had to trudge through almost a foot of snow.
Chester, his tall brown quarter horse, was eager to get out of the small enclosure to move his strong legs.
Stomping his hooves, the horse danced as Luke quietly led him outside before he skillfully swung himself into the saddle.
He didn’t even need to click his tongue—Chester was already moving, falling into an easy trot.
He rode along Main Street before steering Chester toward the church building at the end of it.
It was so quiet, he didn’t even hear a bird.
The only sound was the soft clopping of Chester’s hooves on the snowy ground.
It was beautiful, and he could feel the tightness inside his head dissolve.
Crisp fresh air was the best remedy for a raging hangover.
Then the peaceful silence was suddenly interrupted by gunshots.
Chester’s ears went up, he raised his head, and almost reared up as it startled both of them. The next thing was a piercing scream, then muffled yelling, a squealing animal, then another shot, which echoed across the entire valley.
Luke reacted without thinking. He turned Chester toward the noise, kicked his heels into the muscled flanks of his horse, and they darted off in the general direction the chaos had erupted from.
As soon as they cleared the center of the town, riding past the outbuildings of St. Mary’s Mission, Luke heard the helpless squeals of a horse.
It lay on its side, desperately kicking its front legs.
There were footsteps in the snow leading away from the animal toward a nearby shed.
Then he spotted them—a young woman carrying a very young child and a young boy crying, kneeling by her side. Luke’s first instinct made him want to immediately rush to them, but he couldn’t ignore the group of riders racing toward them in the distance.
There were five men, one shooting into the sky with a menacing howl.
Luke couldn’t hear what they were shouting, but that didn’t matter.
He turned Chester in their direction and forced him to ride head-on toward them.
Pulling out his rifle from its scabbard attached to his saddle, he fired a warning shot off to their side, which they completely ignored.
Forced to act, Luke aimed at one of the men and pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit the one on the left in his arm.
He screamed and yanked his horse to the side.
Then Luke heard another shot being fired from his left side.
He whirled around and saw Caleb coming in from the other side of the valley, galloping at full speed toward them.
He was gaining ground quickly, firing warning shots at the men as he went, which immediately stopped the entire group in their tracks.
Being chased by two men seemed to be enough to halt their pursuit, and all of them turned their horses back in the opposite direction, rushing to get away.
Luke had always known that Caleb was up before dawn, but it was great to see his deputy at the ready when he needed him to be there.
As the riders rode off, Luke tried to get a good look at them, closely paying attention to their appearance, clothes, and horses, but this proved to be difficult, since they were still some distance away. Now heading in the opposite direction, they disappeared in a cloud of whirling snow.
Turning Chester around, he rushed his horse back to the woman and children.
Chester hadn’t fully come to a halt when Luke jumped out of his saddle.
The little boy was yelling, seemingly trying to wake the young woman from her stupor. She looked a little drowsy, holding the side of her head with one hand. By the looks of it, she must have hit it on something. The little girl on top of her cried loudly.
When the woman saw Luke approach her, she immediately grabbed the little boy and the small girl with both arms, pulling them tightly against her.
Fear was written all over her face when obvious pain struck again.
She winced and pressed her fingers against her left temple.
All the while, she kept a wary eye on Luke, never letting him out of her sight.
“Don’t be afraid!” Luke said with a calming voice as he stepped closer to them. “My name is Luke Cross. I am the sheriff in town.” He lifted his thick coat to one side to reveal the sheriff’s star on his vest. “You’re safe now. Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” The woman blinked a couple of times, seemingly struggling to get her bearings.
At the same time, she struggled to pull herself up. Luke rushed to her side to help.
“Here. Take my hand!”
He reached out to offer his hand, and when she took it, she looked up at him with a shy but grateful smile.
He remembered that he had seen her in town before on several occasions. He’d just never noticed how beautiful she was.
She had big greenish-blue eyes, framed with long black lashes. Her pretty oval face was framed by glossy jet-black hair and a sharp jawline ending in a dainty chin.
When she raised it up toward him, he pulled the woman—as well as the crying little girl she had strapped to the front of her body—up, but she didn’t seem to be very steady on her feet.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, concerned.
“I don’t think so,” she said, not very convincingly. She pulled a face and touched the side of her head again.
Luke examined her without touching her to look for obvious injuries. When she reached up again to touch her head, he saw that there was a droplet of blood on her fingertips. He stepped around her and saw a small wound at the back of her head. “You must have hit your head pretty badly.”
Luke looked down at the young boy, who stared up at him, obviously in shock, with the same bright eyes as hers. Was he her son? “What about you? Are you hurt, young man?”
At the formal address, the little boy shrunk into himself and shook his head solemnly. “No, sir.”
“And the horse? Is that yours?” Luke asked.
He nodded. “That’s Tinsel. She fell and knocked us all off,” he said quietly. The boy turned around and looked back at the struggling horse with a worried expression on his face, before turning back around, hugging himself. Luke noticed that the boy was shivering.
“It’s cold out here. We need to get you all inside. And you need to see a doctor!” he ordered toward the woman. “Are you able to walk, Miss?”
“I think so,” she supplied quietly.
Luke didn’t hesitate. He knew she was hurt. Luke stepped to her side, and in one swift motion, he lifted her and the young crying girl onto his arms.
The woman yelped in utter shock, but Luke didn’t acknowledge the outburst as he walked with long strides towards Chester, who was patiently waiting. Luke lifted her onto his saddle and made sure that she was secure and wouldn’t fall off.
Just as he turned around to the little boy, Caleb arrived.
He jumped off his black horse and rushed over to where they stood.
“What in the world was that? Who were they?” he exclaimed, clearly worked up about the shooting incident.
Luke noticed his disheveled clothes underneath his open, thick bison coat.
Caleb must have gotten dressed in a hurry as soon as he’d heard the gunshots echoing through the valley.
As if to prove this point, Caleb quickly stuffed the front of his shirt into his trousers when he saw the young lady with the little girl sitting in Luke’s saddle.
“I have no idea. I couldn’t really get a good look at them. I was hoping you’d recognize one or two of them,” Luke said.
Caleb shook his head and exhaled a disappointed sigh. Then he looked up at the woman, before turning his head to look at the boy, who was still standing there wide-eyed and shivering. “Is everybody all right? Anybody injured?” he asked with immediate concern.
Luke nodded toward the woman. “She needs medical attention. Since it’s still so early, I was going to take them back to the ranch,” Luke said. “They need to get inside and warm up, am I right?”
Luke walked over to the young boy and kneeled down in front of him so he could speak to him at eye level. “I need to ask you a favor, little man.”
The young boy shuffled nervously with his feet and hugged himself even tighter.
“Would you mind riding with this handsome gentleman?” Luke asked gently.
The boy stared warily at Caleb as Luke pointed at him. “This is Mr. Caleb Whitfield. He is my deputy, and we are also family, so I promise you are safe with him.”
The boy looked back at the woman and small girl, and there was clearly yearning in his eyes. He obviously didn’t want to be separated from them by any means. But then he surprised Luke when he took one more look at Caleb, who gifted him with the brightest smile, and nodded hesitantly.
“Good choice!” Caleb cheered. “My horse is much faster than Luke’s anyway.”
Luke scoffed, but nodded gratefully at him when his comment elicited a small smile from the young child. Then he lifted the small boy onto his arms and carried him to Caleb’s black horse.
“I’ll tell Evelyn to come over so she can tend to the ladies and this young gentleman. She would love the company,” Caleb suggested, before turning to the young boy. “And she makes the best pancakes and cinnamon apples.”
For a moment, the boy’s face lit up, but then he turned his head and looked back over his shoulder. “We need to get Tinsel! She is hurt!”
Luke and Caleb both turned around to look at the injured horse. The mare had stopped struggling. She lay still, heavily breathing.
“I’ll get her as soon as we drop them off at your house,” Caleb said.
Luke nodded, walked over to Chester, and climbed on behind Madelaine, leaving her the comfort of the saddle.
He steered the horse around and gently kicked Chester in his flanks to make him fall into a soft trot.
At the same time, Caleb got up behind the boy as well.
He wrapped his coat as best as he could around the shivering child and followed Luke.
“You have to hold on tight, boy. His name is Lightning, and he really is lightning fast.”
They caught up easily, so the little group rode back side by side.
“Thank God nobody was too badly injured. Praise the Lord…” Caleb said after a while.
Luke scoffed at that. “God had nothing to do with this!” he interrupted him brusquely with a dismissive tone. “I saved them. Not God.”
Caleb fell silent. As they rode, none of them said a word. Even little Belle had stopped crying.
Luke was completely immersed in his thoughts, contemplating what to do.
The sun hadn’t even peeked over the mountaintops yet, and already there’d been a chase, a shootout, an injured horse and woman, and now he was in the process of taking a small family back to his house. What else would this day bring?