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    Laurie and the Lawman
    Laurie and the Lawman
    Laurie and the Lawman
    Ebook295 pages3 hours

    Laurie and the Lawman

    By Mildred Colvin

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    HISTORICAL WESTERN FICTION

    Can a Lawman fall in love with an outlaw’s widow?

    After burying her outlaw husband, Laurie Rains learns he may have hidden two bags of gold on their farm. In search of more than her past life of shame, she dares to enter an empty church only to stumble over an injured lawman. Going against everything she’s been taught, she nurses the marshal back to health, protects him from her former brother-in-law, and gradually falls in love for the first time. But will loving a lawman be so different from marriage to an outlaw when the marshal gets what he came for and leaves?

    Seth Collins, U. S. Deputy Marshal, is ambushed while on the trail of the outlaw who he hopes will lead him to his elusive partner in crime and the stolen gold. He’s eager to make the arrests, but must wait for the right timing while he works as Laurie’s hired hand. His respect for Laurie turns into love, but convincing her of his love and respect, and that he’s ready to take root on her farm, may be harder than finishing his assignment and living to tell of it.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMildred Colvin
    Release dateJul 30, 2015
    ISBN9781310423949
    Laurie and the Lawman
    Author

    Mildred Colvin

    Mildred Colvin is a wife, mother of three, and grandmother to three beautiful girls. She started writing when her children were young as they asked for stories. Not from a book. No! They were only satisfied when she made up stories. As the stories grew, she wrote some down and sent them off to magazines. Eight were published before her imagination turned toward love stories, which is what she enjoys reading.She has been writing Christian or clean and wholesome romance since 2001. Over the years several readers from pre-teens to older kids in their eighties and nineties have written expressing their interest in her books. She always loves to hear about one of her stories touching someone's heart. Her purpose in writing is to encourage, entertain, and bless someone else.She lives in the United States and sets her characters in the middle states from Texas to Nebraska and Iowa and reaching across Illinois to Colorado. She also has an Oregon Trail series, but the Great Plains states are her favorite setting.She is active in a very special critique group and has written and published over 60 books in both historical and contemporary themes, and plans to continue writing as long as God allows. He has been good in giving her many ideas for stories. Maybe more than she will be able to finish, but she enjoys each one.Please take a moment to visit her website at www.mildredcolvin.weebly.com, and sign up for her Romantic Reflections Newsletter to learn when new books are released. Also learn of promotions and free books through her newsletter.And take a look at her books. You might find something you don't want to put down.

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      Book preview

      Laurie and the Lawman - Mildred Colvin

      Laurie and the Lawman

      Mildred Colvin

      Historical Christian Romance

      Laurie and the Lawman

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright ©2015 by Mildred Colvin

      All Rights Reserved

      Cover photo copyright ©Mildred Colvin

      Scripture portions are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from its author except for brief quotations in printed reviews. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1—Beginning

      Chapter 11—Middle

      Epilogue—Ending

      Bonus Chapter—Becky and the Banker

      A Note from the Author

      About the Author

      Another Author You Might Like

      DEDICATION

      A special thanks to my critique partners who are the only people I thank for telling me what I do wrong.

      May God bless each of you: Chandra Smith, Connie Almony, Gail Pallotta, Jamie Adams, June Foster,

      Linda Cushman, Regina Tittel, and Vanessa Riley.

      These ladies can be found by looking them up in online bookstores such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords, where

      you’ll see some mighty fine books to read. Maybe gain a new favorite author.

      To Vanessa Riley for her time and expertise in creating the cover of this book.

      Thank you, Vanessa!

      Chapter 1

      Just outside Jennyville, Missouri, Spring 1891

      A bullet whined within inches of Deputy U. S Marshal Seth Collins’s head. He jerked the reins. His horse sidestepped.

      Take cover, he yelled at the other deputy.

      Soon as I find some. Matt McClure’s response painted the desperate picture.

      The high bluff on the left side of the road and a sheer ravine on the right gave them no choice and little cover. They’d been following the outlaw, Dirk Rains, through a damp mist most of the day, and now less than a mile after passing through the sleepy little Ozark mountain town of Jennyville, they’d ridden into an ambush. They’d have to shoot it out and hope the dreary, weeping sky kept all the good folks indoors and out of the way.

      Seth spurred his horse to the right and reined him in almost as quickly. He dropped to the sloping ground and grabbed his rifle from the scabbard. Using the big animal as a shield, he slid down the hill. If only there was something large enough to hide behind. Sharp rocks bruised his hip and scraped his elbow on the descent, but he ignored the pain.

      Another bullet whizzed past kicking up a spray of rocks and dirt around Matt as he scrambled down on the other side of Seth.

      Lord, give us shelter. Seth sent a quick plea toward heaven then saw a large rock jutting out of the ground.

      He slid into place behind the boulder and hoped for enough cover. He shifted to make room for Matt, causing a shower of loose shale to fall down the ravine to the creek below. Lord, I’d sure appreciate Your help keeping us in place here long enough to—

      A bullet gouged the top of the rock. An inch higher and he would have been walking streets of gold. An emotion he didn’t take time to analyze—whether fear or anger—washed through his soul. He clenched his jaw and pointed his rifle in the general direction of the outlaw. He pulled the trigger, wanting desperately to watch the guy fall from his perch but knowing he was worth more to them alive than he was dead. It hadn’t been their intention to get into a fight with him anyway.

      Give it up, Rains. Matt called out. It’ll go easier on you if you let us take you back peaceable like.

      Ha. Dirk’s laugh carried to them as if he stood at the edge of the road. Ain’t no jail can hold me. I’ll save ya the trouble and send both of ya to the creek below. If you don’t sink outta sight there, the coyotes will dispose of your carcasses.

      His next shot took Seth’s hat off and sent it skittering down the ravine. Seth instinctively dodged—long after the bullet was gone. He’d never had so many near misses in a shootout before. Either Rains was a bad shot or he was playing with them, because they were sitting ducks below the outlaw’s perch on the hillside.

      Matt sent a bullet toward Rains and in return lost his hat.

      Dirk was obviously a crack shot and a dangerous man. Seth made a quick decision. Marshall Gunderson might want the scoundrel to lead them to the gold and the other two outlaws who took it, but to get out of this ambush alive, he and Matt would have to take Rains out. They had no choice.

      He’s got us pinned down, Lord. Help us end this soon.

      They exchanged a few more shots before Matt took careful aim at the top of the tree-covered bluff and fired.

      Seth couldn’t see Rains, but he continued to pray while pulling the trigger again and again. He and Matt took turns aiming at the tiny ribbon of smoke left after Rains fired. He shifted positions but seemed to stay in the same basic area.

      Again, Matt raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. This time a scream of filth sounded from the hillside before Rains shouted to them. You rotten, dirty polecats, ya hit me. Now you’ll die. I’m done playin’ games.

      He shot Matt first. The impact of the bullet sent the lawman backward sliding down the hill. Seth grabbed for his friend, lunging to hold his body down with his own weight. He fell across Matt’s chest and looked into the fixed open-eyed stare of a man no longer on earth.

      No-o-o! Seth swung his rifle back toward the bluff across the road and fired. At that same instant, he felt the impact high in his chest and heard the report of Rains’s rifle. He slumped backward across Matt’s body and watched the dense gray clouds above darken into a black void.

      ~*~

      A wife should cry at her husband’s funeral, but Laurie Rains could find nary a tear to shed for Wyatt. She tilted her black umbrella, not because of the misty rain that cast its own dreary spell over the day, but because of the few mourners who continually sent speculative glances her way. If only she could block all of them from her view at the same time.

      Mourners? What a strange word to use in reference to Wyatt Rains. Other than Laurie and her twelve-year-old son, Joshua, five men stood in a semi-circle around the open grave. Wyatt’s own brother hadn’t shown his face. That fact didn’t particularly surprise Laurie, but it annoyed her.

      ‘Oh, death, where is thy sting? Oh, grave, where is thy victory?’ We cannot know the condition of Wyatt Rains’s heart. Many have found forgiveness on their deathbed. The minister raised his voice and searched Laurie’s face.

      She lifted her best, lace-trimmed handkerchief to the corner of her eye as if to catch a tear.

      We remember the thief on the cross next to our Lord when he said, ‘Remember me in paradise.’ That man had lived an ungodly life, but Jesus forgave his sins within moments of his death.

      Laurie scoffed inside. Did the Reverend Jones think he could preach Wyatt into heaven? What would he say if she told him her husband’s last words had been a curse? If there was a heaven, Wyatt wasn’t there. And if there was a hell ... No, even as mean as Wyatt had been, she didn’t want to think such a thing. She’d rather believe the man she’d known and lived with for the last fourteen years had ceased to exist. That now, finally, he was powerless to hurt her.

      She slipped an arm around her son’s shoulders and drew him close under the shelter of her umbrella. He looked at her with the hint of a smile and slipped his arm around her waist. My, but Josh had shot up lately until he was as tall as her. She loved the feel of his strong, young shoulder under her hand. He was the only part of her life she could be proud of. She couldn’t ask for a better son.

      Shall we pray?

      Laurie bowed her head, ashamed that she hadn’t listened to the minister’s sermon, only catching a sentence here and there. But she hadn’t expected such a quick service, even if they did have the funeral at the graveside. Laurie didn’t want to desecrate the church house with someone who, when he was alive, cursed it and everyone who attended. Still, seemed to her it should take longer to place a man’s body in the ground and preach his soul into heaven. She should have paid more attention. She’d do better in the future. With Wyatt gone, she could go to church, even if the folks there didn’t want her to, and she would listen carefully to every word. If it took until her dying day, she would become a respectable member of the small town she’d always called home.

      Mrs. Rains, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. The minister stood with his right hand outstretched.

      Oh, thank you. Had she missed the prayer, too?

      They shared a quick handshake. Quick, because the tall, thin man she’d seldom seen smile pulled his hand back after one shake.

      If there’s anything we can do to help you, please let us know. His long, angular face held concern, while his pale blue eyes searched her face as if looking for the grief she couldn’t feel.

      Maybe she’d only imagined the minister’s hurry to bring his sermon to a close and get away from her and Josh. No doubt, the heavy, damp air contributed to his briskness. All the men probably wanted to return to their warm, dry homes where their proper, well-bred wives were waiting to hear the latest about the disreputable Rains family.

      She gave her head a tiny shake. No, she would not taint her thoughts with bitterness. If she held unforgiveness in her heart toward the people she longed to prove her worth to, how could she expect them to accept her?

      The deacon came next. A handsome young man barely out of his teens, Stephen Bates seemed to be as nice as they came, but Laurie recognized the hesitation in his handshake.

      She pulled her hand back and spoke before he could. How’s Mrs. Bates?

      A soft smile brightened his somber expression, and he nodded. She’s fine, ma’am. I ’spect I’ll be riding for your birthin’ skills within the month.

      Anytime you have need, day or night, you let me know, and I’ll be there. Reckon I’ve introduced most all the youngins in these parts to their mommas in the last twelve years. And the majority picked the night hours to make their appearance, so don’t let that worry ya none.

      No, ma’am. A touch of red crept up his neck to the blond hair that almost touched his white, neatly-pressed collar. I mean to say, I ’spect when the time comes, I won’t know what time of day or night it is.

      Laurie wanted to laugh with him, but she couldn’t laugh at Wyatt’s funeral. He’d turned mean after Josh was born and there’d been no more babies, but he’d been her husband since she was only sixteen, and for that fact alone, she would respect his memory.

      She gave the young deacon a nod and a smile. I’d say you’re right about that.

      His expression sobered. I’m sure sorry for your loss. If I can do anything, just let me know.

      Thank you. That means a lot to me just knowin’ you’re willin’. The church people spoke real nice, but Laurie didn’t set much store in what they said. Both the preacher and the deacon had offered their help.

      How quick would they come up with excuses if she mentioned the broken-down fence and the corn needing to be planted. The haying had to be done soon, and of course, there were a dozen other chores she and Josh hadn’t had time for, but she didn’t expect these God-fearing men to do her work. If her own husband hadn’t lifted a finger to help, why would a stranger step in and ease her load? A load that was no heavier now with her husband in the ground than it had been when he was strong and healthy. No, trash like her couldn’t count on church folks. Hadn’t her daddy told her that very thing enough times so she wouldn’t forget?

      Mr. Owen Wainstock, president of Taney County Bank, had been shifting from one foot to the other while she talked with Mr. Bates. Now he stepped forward with his coachman hat held in one hand and an open umbrella in the other. He gave a brisk nod. Mrs. Rains, my condolences for your loss.

      Thank you. She returned his nod, assuming he meant he was sorry her husband died. The question of why he’d come to Wyatt’s funeral had plagued her from the first moment she saw him walk toward the grave that afternoon. He was decked out in his banker clothes with a crisp white shirt and a green vest above black dress pants covered by a long black coat, lookin’ like the rich man she figured he was. Wyatt and his brother, Dirk, had never robbed the bank or anything else here in Jennyville. They said they had to keep in good with the home folks. She at least had that to be thankful for.

      From the corner of her eye, she saw the young deacon shake Josh’s hand. When she heard him say something about fishing, she knew he’d picked a good subject to interest her son who loved nothing better than sitting on the creek bank with a pole in his hands and a hook in the water.

      I’d like for you to come by the bank at your earliest convenience so we can discuss this situation more in detail. Perhaps Monday morning around ten would work for you? Mr. Wainstock’s gray eyes bore into hers.

      Laurie brought her attention back to the banker with a jolt. What had he said? What was the it he wanted to discuss with her? Rather than let him know she hadn’t been listening, she nodded. Yes, Monday will be fine.

      Good. His severe expression relaxed. I will see you then. Good day, Mrs. Rains.

      Good day. She watched the man walk away, his long coat flapping against his legs. He looked as out of place at Wyatt’s funeral as she would feel stepping into his bank come Monday morning.

      Gonna miss that boy. Laurie cringed at the sound of a voice she’d heard far too many times. Tom Janes stood watching her with a grin completely out of place for his best friend’s funeral.

      Laurie glanced from one side to the other. The minister, the deacon, and the banker had gone already or were rapidly heading toward the road. Only one other man, her neighbor Nathan Long, remained, and he stood apart talking to the gravedigger who waited to finish his job. Would they help if Tom tried anything improper? Josh stepped closer to her side, and she welcomed his protective presence.

      Reckon you’ll miss him more though. He grinned, and Laurie frowned.

      We’ll be fine. She started to turn away, but his next words stopped her.

      You’ll be lonely without him, you know. I’ll come see you later on to make sure you’re all right.

      No! For the first time since Wyatt died, Laurie felt fear. Don’t you dare set foot on my property. You stay home with your wife where you belong. Josh and I don’t need you coming around reminding us of him.

      Tom frowned and shook his head. Aw now, is that any way to speak of the dead? Wyatt and me go way back. He’d want me to see about you and the boy. I reckon you won’t mind a little visit now and again.

      Yes, I would. Laurie hissed the words at him and hoped the two men standing several feet away didn’t hear.

      You heard my ma. Josh stepped forward. She doesn’t want you comin’ round. Why don’t you go on home?

      Now boy, don’t be getting’ so uppity. Your old man was my best friend. I’m just doin’ what he’d want.

      Even Pop wouldn’t want you messing around with my ma. Josh stepped between Laurie and Tom. Why don’t you let her grieve in peace?

      Tom nudged Josh aside, and Laurie let her umbrella down, fully intending to use it as a weapon. Josh rushed back with both fists clenched.

      Is there a problem here? Nathan Long appeared behind Tom.

      No. The heat of humiliation covered Laurie’s face. Mr. Janes was just leaving.

      As Wyatt Rains’ best friend, it is my duty to see about his widow.

      Only if she wants you to. Nathan towered over the smaller man, and Tom stepped to the side. Nathan moved a bit closer to him. Go on home to your wife, Tom. If Mrs. Rains wants you hanging around, she knows where to find you.

      I’ll see you later, Laurie. As Tom left grumbling with each step, Laurie breathed a sigh of relief. Still, she’d be a fool to think she had seen the last of Tom Janes, and that thought did nothing to give her comfort.

      She turned toward her neighbor. Thank you, Mr. Long.

      No problem. My buckboard is right over there. He pointed to the road leading to the cemetery. I’d be glad to give you and Josh a ride home.

      No, thank you. She shrank from his kindness in much the same way she had resisted Tom’s boldness.

      Ma’am, if you walk home you’ll be soaked by the time you get there and cold to boot.

      I don’t mind. Laurie shook her head. It’s no more than two miles, and it ain’t rainin’ hard. Just a mist. She took Josh’s arm and began walking toward the road. We’ll be home long before dark.

      Well, if you’re sure. He hesitated before falling into step with them. I hate to leave you alone like this.

      Laurie heard the scrape of the shovel against a dozen small rocks in the pile of dirt beside the grave. She waited a moment until she heard the plop of dirt hitting the pine box at the bottom of the hole in the ground. The sounds were so final. Wyatt was gone and would never come back this time. Her life had taken a sharp turn. She lifted her gaze to the overcast sky above a distant tree line and breathed her first prayer in a long time, maybe in forever. God, if You are there, show me the way to walk down this new road. Show me how to be respectable. Amen

      Ma’am, are you sure you won’t ride?

      They stopped beside Mr. Long’s buckboard. Laurie smiled at the worry line between his eyes and shook her head. I’m sure. We’ll be fine. Now, if it was truly pourin’ down rain, I’d take you up on your kind offer. I surely do thank you for bein’ so neighborly. Be sure to say hi to Billy for Josh and me.

      I will. You take care now. I’ll stop by sometime this coming week and check on you all.

      That would be nice.

      Laurie watched her neighbor stride away, climb in his wagon, and drive off. Funny how Mr. Long’s offer to check on them didn’t seem a threat the way Tom’s offer of comfort did. She only hoped Tom listened and kept his distance, because she couldn’t think of anything worse than Tom Janes hanging around with his leering grin and suggestive comments.

      Chapter 2

      The blacksmith’s forge glowed as bright as a beacon through cracks in the shop walls, brightening the dark, cloudy day. The gentle pattering of rain began, and Laurie lifted her umbrella. She loved to walk through a shower with its soft soothing rhythm. Her shoes crunched the rocks in the main road through town as she and Josh strolled past the first shops, her gaze attracted by the flickering light. The odor of horse manure hung in the air around the stables next door, while the clang of Able Edwards’ hammer rang through the nearly deserted town. A wagon rumbled past as she stepped up on the boardwalk that began the business district of their little town of Jennyville.

      Most of the shops had already closed for the day. When they passed the General Store, a balding and rotund Mr. Mortelli waved from behind the door glass. They returned his friendly gesture just before he lowered the shade, turned the open sign over to read closed, and snapped the lock into place.

      Laurie glanced behind them at the western sky. Best she could tell, from the position of the faint light behind all those clouds, they were coming up on evening.

      I’ll fix supper soon as we get home. She glanced at Josh. There’s some beef left in the smokehouse. Maybe we can cut some steaks.

      He smiled and nodded. That sounds good, Ma.

      You don’t sound real excited about it.

      He shrugged as his young face took on the look of a much older, more serious young man. I know what Pop did was wrong, and that’s why he died. He never treated you right, and I couldn’t stop him. I’m glad he’s gone, Ma. If that’s wrong, I’m sorry.

      Laurie’s breath caught in her throat. Josh spoke so matter-of-fact. Of course, he couldn’t have stopped Wyatt. A son is not responsible for what his father does. Besides, Wyatt never hit her in front of Josh, and he’d never touched his son in anger. In some ways, he’d been a good father. She hadn’t realized Josh felt so strongly about Wyatt hitting her. Maybe Josh had been a victim, too, in a round-about way.

      I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore, Josh. Laurie watched him kick at a rock that had somehow gotten on the boardwalk. It sailed a few feet into the air before dropping to the dirt road below. I guess I’ll miss your father, but I can’t say I’m sorry he isn’t coming home. To be fair, he only hit me when he drank too much or when he got good and mad about something.

      Josh snorted. That must’ve been every time he was home, then.

      Laurie tried to think of the good times with Wyatt and realized there hadn’t been many. Especially in the last few years.

      They walked past the bank that sat beside the telegraph office, and Mr. Wainstock’s image came to mind with his forehead creased and his eyes solemn. He’d been concerned about something. Money, no doubt. What had Wyatt done now? He wouldn’t rob the bank, but she wouldn’t put it past him to try his hand at swindling the good folks in town. As if he could cheat the bank. Mr. Wainstock wasn’t gullible enough to give Wyatt Rains a loan. She wouldn’t worry about it now. Tomorrow would be soon enough to add another burden.

      Well, what’s done is done, and there ain’t no reason to hold a grudge. Especially against your own pop. He treated you good, didn’t he?

      I reckon. Josh shrugged. "Except for that time he got caught when I was little and spent some time in jail. The other kids at school acted like it was my fault I had a jailbird for a father. Some of ’em still

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