Cooper's Wife
Reed-thin arms wrapped about his neck. She held on with all her might. Her little body was rigid against his chest. “Don’t worry, little girl. I won’t let you fall.”
“Mama!” The little girl’s voice came weak. Her breath against his throat felt choppy and irregular. She wheezed, and he held her tighter. It was as he feared; the child was badly injured. Town and medical help was so far away.
He secured the girl to his chest, using the lariat he carried. Then he began the arduous work of climbing hand over hand up the rope. The wind gusted, knocking them against the granite wall. He turned to take the blow with his shoulder, to protect the fragile child he carried. The rope swung them out away from the rock, and he caught sight of a dizzying glimpse of brown-gray rock below. His stomach lurched. Yep, it was best not to look down.
He kept climbing hand over hand, listening to the rattle of little Mandy’s breathing. Another blast of wind knocked him against the cliff side, sent him swinging.
“Mama.” The little girl sniffled. So small, she was hardly any weight at all against his chest. Her blood stained his shirt and he felt her shiver, even in the bright sunshine. Not a good sign.
“I’m right here, Mandy.” The woman’s voice rang like bells, sweet and clear. She peered over the edge of the cliff.
It wasn’t much farther.
“Is that you, Coop?” His brother’s voice.
“Where the heck have you been?” The muscles in Cooper’s arms and back burned with fatigue. He kept climbing, but tipped his head back just enough to see the worry lining his younger brother’s face. “Don’t just stand there being useless. Help me up.”
“Useless. That’s me.” Tucker could grin even in a crisis. He curled both gloved hands around the rope and pulled.
Cooper handed the child up into her mother’s arms. Tucker helped him over the lip of the cliff.
“She’s hurt.” Sorrow rang in the woman’s voice.
The tiny girl looked blue and wasn’t breathing right. He couldn’t help but fear the worst. The woman, white-faced with fear, cradled her daughter tight in her arms. She kissed the girl’s forehead, the love for her child as unmistakable as the sun. It was a priceless emotion his wife had never managed to feel for their girls. He liked knowing some mothers did.
“Sheriff.” One of his deputies crested the bank. “Corinthos got away.”
Turning away from the mother and child, he began coiling the rope. “I shot him myself. He must have mounted and rode off.” Cooper mopped his brow with his forearm. “We’ve got wounded. We see to the girl first.”
The woman knelt beside her daughter on a bed of clover, checking her wounds. “Is there a doctor close?”
“No, ma’am.” Cooper untied his stallion. “We’re just lawmen. We feared there might be problems with the stage today. This pass is notorious for trouble.”
She took a breath. Worry crinkled the corners of eyes as deep as a summer sky. “But Mandy needs a doctor. I think she may have broken her arm, maybe her ribs. She isn’t breathing well.”
“I can see.” Cooper left the stallion standing and took a look. “Are you hurt, little lady?”
The child looked up with teary eyes and nodded. No sniffle, no whimper. Her lips were slightly bluish. Her breath came rapid and shallow.
“You’re a brave girl, too.” He knelt down on one knee, broad shoulders braced. He was all strength, but tenderness, too. “You must get that from your mama.”
Anna’s heart ached. So many cuts and bruises on the girl. She tore a strip of petticoat and covered a nasty gash on the child’s forearm. “How far away are we from a town?”
“Quite a ways.” The sheriffs low, rumbling voice sounded warm as sunshine. He pulled a clean and folded handkerchief from his shirt pocket and tore it into strips. Those big blunt-shaped hands deftly tied a neat bandage at Mandy’s wrist.
“You’re good at this, Sheriff.”
“I have little girls of my own who are always getting one scrape or another.”
Oh, that smile. As scared as she was for Mandy, Anna couldn’t help noticing the sheriffs handsome smile. And on a closer look, he had a handsome everything. From the strong straight blade of his nose—not too sharp, not too big—to the chiseled cut of his high cheekbones, to the square jaw sporting a day’s dark growth, he was quite a man.
“Owie.” Mandy bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears like a big girl.
“Let me see, pumpkin.” Anna gently pulled Mandy’s bandaged arm away from her chest. When she loosened a few buttons on the now ragged dress, she saw a horrible bruise marking her skin. But it was the sight of the left side of her little chest rising when her right side did not that terrified Anna. Something was dreadfully wrong.
“Tucker.” Calling to one of the deputies, the mighty sheriff strode away.
Would Mandy die? Fear condensed into a tight, hard ball in her stomach. Her hands trembled as she used a thin stick from the ground as a splint. She wrapped the last strips from her petticoat around Mandy’s broken arm, trying to keep hold of hope.
“I’m going to ride her into town.” Cooper squinted against the midday sun. “With the trouble she has breathing, I don’t figure we have a lot of time. My mount is the fastest.”
“I’ll go with you. Just give me a minute—”
“You’ll only slow me down.” Apology rang low in his voice.
“No, I’m not leaving her.” Anna held her daughter tight.
“You have to, ma’am. I can get her to a doctor faster than anyone can.”
“But Mandy needs me.”
“She needs medical care.”
It was as if she were on that cliff again, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop the coach from breaking apart. She could not let a stranger care for her daughter. Yet Mandy needed a doctor. Immediately. And this man could provide it.
He said he was a father. And it was true that he’d braved the chff to rescue Mandy. Judging by the breadth of those strong shoulders and the honor shining like a promise in his eyes, Anna decided she had to trust him. Mandy would die without help.
Her decision was already made, even though it was hard to let go. “This little girl is my entire life.”
“I know.” He produced a warm blanket to wrap around Mandy. “Flint Creek is the first town on the other side of this pass. The doc’s clinic is the third building on your left past the hotel. Tucker will take you there.”
Anna’s knees wobbled with the worst kind of fear. But the badge pinned to the sheriff’s vest glinted in the sunlight. When he mounted his powerful horse, he looked heroic enough to topple any foe, right any wrong.
Anna wiped the wet hair from her eyes. She prayed he would make it to town in time.
Chapter Two
“How’s the little girl?” Tucker strode through the jailhouse door, trail dust thick on his hat brim and boots, and everything else in between.
“She’s still alive. I hope the doc can keep her that way.” Cooper closed his eyes, unable to block out the remembered image of tiny Mandy so blue and struggling hard to breathe. “How’s the mother?”
Tucker swept off his hat. “She’s a widow. Imagine that. She told me so herself on the ride down here. Yep, Mrs. Bauer sure is pretty, don’t you think?”
“I don’t need anyone to play matchmaker, especially not you.” Cooper thumped his brother on the shoulder. “I take it the rest of my deputies are on their way?”
“Yep.” Tucker followed him out onto the late-day street. “It took a while to find the gold shipment. We thought it had gone over the cliff, too. The men will be bringing it to town soon and they’ll need help. I was just going to head back. Are you coming?”
“Yes. I hope we’ve seen enough trouble from the Corinthos gang for one day.” Evening scented the air. The sun was fast sinking toward the horizon. Cooper’s gaze focused on the doc’s clinic down the street. He thought of the woman and child inside. He thought about how lucky they were, how lucky all of them were.
Anna brushed back gossamer curls from her sleeping daughter’s forehead. The dim light of the room in the back of the doctor’s clinic cast just enough glow to see by. But not enough to ward off the many fears that increased as each hour passed.
“My wife made you a supper tray.” The door whispered open on its leather hinges. The faint rattling of dishes filled the quiet room, then footsteps as the doctor strode across the floor. He set the meal on a low table. “I hope you like beef stew.”
“I’m sure it’s very good.” Anna straightened in her chair, careful of her hurting arm. Her stomach grumbled, but she wasn’t in the mood to eat. Not until she knew Mandy would be all right. “Thank your wife for me.”
“You need to keep up your energy if you’re going to care for your girl. So you eat, and let me check on my littlest patient.”
His kindness touched her, made her ache deep inside. When she had explained she couldn’t pay the bill because her savings had been stolen, the doctor told her not to worry. Now he was treating Mandy with care and skill.
She watched him listen to Mandy’s breathing, saw for herself the uneven rise and fall of her chest. He’d said a punctured lung could be fatal, but there was some hope.
Hope. It was what had brought her here in the first place. A new start for Mandy, a home of her own. She worried about what kind of man Mr. Cooper Braddock would be—kind or strict, stern or forgiving. But now her big plans felt false and foolish with her daughter so injured.
Anna stood and somehow made it to the table. Her own body ached, especially her arm, but she hadn’t said anything. Would not detract the doctor’s attention from Mandy, even for herself.
Steam rose from the fragrant stew. Her stomach turned, but she knew she had to eat. At least had to try. She sat on the rickety chair, one leg shorter than the other three. It bumped against the floor when she shifted her weight. The warm scent of gravy, the hearty scent of beef tickled her nose. She lifted the spoon and filled it. But how was she going to get any food to stay in her twisted-up-with-worry stomach?
“Mrs. Bauer?” A low rumbling voice called to her. She turned around to see the sheriff, his broad-shouldered form filling the threshold, his dark hat shading his eyes. “How’s your little girl?”
Just looking at him made her feel better, the same way she’d felt when he climbed hand over hand down that rope to rescue Mandy. “She’s doing better. Thanks to you. You got her to the doctor in good time.”
“I was Just doing my job. Serve and protect.” He swept off his gray hat, looking uncomfortable with her praise. “Daughters are priceless.”
“Yes, they are.” She couldn’t picture this enormous and powerful man as a father to little girls. Yet his presence comforted her, Just as she imagined it would a small child. Goodness shone in his eyes, the strength that came from tenderness. He was not the kind of man who harmed others. Not like the cowards who’d caused this injury to her daughter and the passenger on the stage. “How is the wounded man?”
“He took a shot to his chest, but he will live.” The sheriff stepped back into the hallway, his hat clutched in his big capable hands. The silver badge pinned to his wide chest glinted in the lamplight. “The driver’s not as lucky. He may never walk again.”
“Those horrible outlaws.” Anna shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “If you hadn’t come along, we might all be dead by now.”
His smile broadened, etching dimples into his cheeks and softening the hard, tough lawman look of him. “We’ve been having trouble at that pass. There are few towns and fewer lawmen to keep the peace, and too damn many renegades who think they can take whatever they want from innocent people. It’s my job to teach them differently.”
“So, you were waiting to protect the stage at the pass. That’s how you were there to save us?”
“Yes.” His face shadowed. He studied her for a moment. “It’s getting late. I can recommend the hotel just down the street. Janet, the innkeeper, will look after you. I’ll ask her to warm up a room for you.”
“I can’t leave Mandy.” Especially not now that she’d almost lost her.
“I understand.” His half smile dazzled. If she were in another place in her life, another time without worries and secrets and promises to marry, she would have found him attractive. Yes, very attractive.
“Is there anything I can do?” He was a good man, just wanting to help.
“Did your men find a child’s book amid the wreckage? Mandy likes to be read to. She’s still—” In danger . Anna couldn’t say the words. It hurt even to think them. “I have to believe she’ll be all right.”
“I believe it.” The sheriff towered over her, radiating strength and kindness mixed with a hard male toughness. A dizzying combination. “You take care of your daughter. I’ll check on that book for you.”
“I know it’s getting late, Sheriff.”
“I don’t mind.” Twin dimples edged that calming grin. “And stop calling me sheriff. The name’s Cooper.”
“Cooper?” The word froze on her lips. Anna watched in amazement as he strolled from sight down the hallway, those shoulders wide, that gait confident.
The man she’d come to marry was named Cooper. Surely he couldn’t be—
No. A man like that didn’t need to write away for a bride. He just had to smile and every woman within a half-mile radius probably fell at his feet.
“Mrs. Bauer?” The doctor gestured her back into the room. “Your daughter is doing better, but her condition is still very serious. I can make no guarantees. The only thing we can do is keep a close watch on her and see what the night brings.”
Cold fear curled around her insides. Anna forced back tears, more afraid and angry than she’d been in her life, and she’d been plenty of both before this.
Damn those men who’d done this to her defenseless, tiny daughter.
Anna settled down in the wooden chair at Mandy’s bedside. The little one slept still, as if death already claimed her. Even her hand felt cold to the touch.
All her troubles faded. Why she’d come to Flint Creek and what she’d left behind no longer mattered. Not now. Only Mandy mattered.
Please, she prayed. Don’t take my daughter.
“Did you get a good look at that lovely widow?” Tucker asked as he poured a fresh cup of coffee.
“I saw.” Cooper hung his hat on a wall peg and gave the door a good slam against the cool night wind. “No ideas, brother. I’m not interested in the woman.”
“Well, that’s just not natural, big brother. Not natural at all.” Tucker shook his head, feigning deep concern. “After saving her daughter the way you did, she’s not going to look twice at the rest of us poor saps. Oh no, she’ll only have eyes for you.”
“So you say. Let’s face it, Tucker, every single woman who has come to town has been charmed by your dimples, not mine.”
“True.” He took a sip of coffee. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to head home.”
“I’m on my way. Did you find a child’s storybook in the wreckage?”
“Nope.” Grim lines frowned across Tucker’s face. “Most things fell to the bottom of the cliff. How’s that injured girl?”
“Not good.” Cooper rubbed his brow. “How many outlaws did we bring in?”
“Just one. I shot him myself. He broke his jaw when he fell off his horse. The doc said he’s pretty hurt, but I’m not letting him in the clinic with innocent women and children. I locked him up. Wanna see?”
“I’ll wait until morning.” Cooper regretted they hadn’t caught more of the gang, as he’d planned. But circumstances had intervened. Rescuing Mrs. Bauer and her child was more important than nabbing a few outlaws.
“It’s a damn lucky thing you’re good with a rope.” Tucker’s gaze fastened on his, serious as a hanging judge. “Or the child would be dead. There’s no way she could have survived that fall.”
“I know.” Cooper grabbed his hat.
“Where you goin’?”
“To find a storybook.” He gestured toward the messy desk in the corner, hiding a grin. “And you straighten up around here. Some innocent taxpayer is going to walk into this office and regret how much they pay slobs like you to protect their town.”
“Hey, watch who you’re calling a slob!”
Tucker’s laughing protest followed Cooper out the door and into the crisp spring night. Cold sliced through his coat. Mountain snow still clung to the ground in places, even though it was spring. He saw the light in the window and once again thought of the woman and her child. Took comfort that some mothers stayed. Some mothers loved their children more than themselves.
His house was dark except for the twin lamps lit in the parlor and the merry glow of the fire. Laura looked up from her embroidery. “I heard about the excitement.”
“Yeah, it’s been a tough day.” He felt tired. He felt drained. “How are my girls?”
“In bed asleep. I think.” Laura’s gnn was mischievous. “I’m only an aunt, not a miracle worker.”
Cooper didn’t bother to shrug off his coat. “Would you mind staying longer? I’ve got an errand to do.”
“Sure. I have nowhere to go.” Laura poked her threaded needle through the stretched-tight fabric. “But we need to discuss the situation with the housekeeper.”
“Again?” There was a conversation he wanted to avoid.
“Mrs. Potts found a salamander in the empty soup kettle.”
“Just a salamander this time?” If only his oldest girl could be as sweet and obedient as the youngest he wouldn’t have to worry about the housekeeper quitting every day of the week.
“We can be happy it wasn’t a skunk.”
“Don’t give the child any ideas.” As he climbed the stairs to the dark second story, Cooper thought of little Mandy Bauer and how he’d cradled her close on the long hard ride down the mountainside. She was frail and tiny like his own littlest girl.
He nudged open the door to the girls’ room. The moon played through the window, casting enough of a silvered glow to see their sweet faces, relaxed and content in sleep, each in her own twin bed.
Careful not to wake them, Cooper found a book by feel on the bookshelf, the nursery rhymes his Maisie treasured.
“Papa?”
So one of them wasn’t asleep. “What is it, Katie?”
“Laura said there was a lady come today on the wrecked stage.”
“There was.” He knelt down beside his oldest daughter’s bedside. “Tucker’s already told me how nice and pretty she is. I hope you aren’t going to try to match me up with this poor woman.”
“Oh Papa, Laura says cuz you’re a man, you don’t know what’s best for you.”
“She does?” He laughed at that. “No more talk. You lie back down and go to sleep. You’re going to need your rest if you want to have enough strength to try to marry me off tomorrow.”
“Go ahead and joke.” Katie shook her head, scattering dark curls against her thin shoulders. “I don’t think it’s one bit funny.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Katie had been trying to marry him to every available woman she came across for years now. She didn’t understand. As a child she never could. How did he explain to her that a stepmother was not a mother? A woman could love her own children, but love for a stepchild could only run so deep.
He’d learned that painful lesson as a young boy, and it was one he vowed to protect his daughters from. He would protect them from any harm, any hurt, any heartache. If he could.
Besides, he loved his girls. And one loving parent was more than a lot of children had. He’d seen that in his work, too.
Katie laid down with a rustle of flannel sheets and down comforter. He stood in the threshold, watching them both, grateful for their health and their presence in his life. Maisie with her gold curls tangling on the pillow and her stuffed bunny clutched in reed-thin arms. And Katie too old and tough, or so she said, for such things.
What would he do if harm came their way? Cooper thought of Mrs. Bauer sitting vigil beside her tiny daughter’s bedside. He knew how he would feel if one of his girls were in that bed, clinging to life.
He strode out the back door, headfirst into the cold night wind. ,
Anna fought the dream and swam to the surface of consciousness. Night spun around her. The sepia glow of the kerosene lamp turned low brushed the bed, shadowing the defenseless child so still beneath the blankets.
She had to stay awake. Mandy might need her. Anna sat up straight in the hard-backed chair, willing her gaze not to leave her daughter’s face.
Her own chin bobbed. Exhaustion curled around her like a blinding fog, but she fought it. She stood, ambled to the window. A late quarter moon lit the night sky, brushing the white curtains and the world outside with a soft veil of silver. The town looked peaceful, windows dark, tucked in for the night. She hadn’t even taken a look around the town when she’d arrived, she’d been so afraid for Mandy.
Now, she could see the striped awning of a bakery, the big false front of a general store. She had come to Flint Creek to make a home, a marriage and a family. A new life for her and Mandy. But shadows moved along the dark street, kicking up the beat of her heart. She thought of Dalton, remembered how his gaze had met hers across the length of the bank.
He knew she’d recognized him. She knew in that way of friends well acquainted with each other. She’d grown up in Ruby Bluff, went to school with Dalton. They had been in the same class all the way through graduation. And when he’d started courting her last year, she’d been flattered, but nothing more.
For Mandy’s sake, she’d thought that maybe she could make it work. But no real affection other than friendship had grown in her heart. And she began to see traits and tempers in Dalton that gave her pause. He didn’t like children, had no patience for them. She turned down his proposal, and she knew it had hurt him. But they could never be happy together.
That’s why she had chosen Mr. Braddock’s letter, agreed to his proposal. He seemed to truly care for his daughters. In fact, his letters had been full of written details about the girls and little else. She could overlook a lot of faults as long as he was kind to children, both those that were his and those not his own.
Anna had told her sister about her decision the evening of the robbery, when she’d hurried home, shaking. If the stage left that day, she would have been on it. But Ruby Bluff was a small town with stage service just once a week. Meg had agreed with her. She should leave town, just as planned.
Remembering, she could hear her sister’s voice. How she missed Meg. She needed her hug, would have liked to have her here to share her fears with. But that night, Meg had made tea, listened, and counted out all of her butter and egg money. Fifty dollars.
“Take it,” Meg had said. “If Dalton is the robber that’s been troubling this area, then he’s dangerous. He’s killed innocent people.”
“I know.” But Anna could not take her sister’s hard-earned money. “I have enough.”
“Not enough if you leave tonight.”
“There is no stage tonight.” Anna rubbed her brow. Her head ached from worry and fear. She wished she’d never looked down at the robber’s shoes.
“You take my horse and wagon.”
“No. You need them for the farm work.”
Meg’s smile was soft like her voice, warm with a lifelong love some lucky sisters shared. “Listen to me. Take the morning stage from Rubydale. Ben will drive you there tonight.”
Would Dalton come after her? Even with that fear, it was hard to leave. When she’d shown up pregnant without a husband, Meg had welcomed her in. She loved her sister. She would miss her.
Meg’s Ben had reported that Sheriff Dalton Jennings was taking a late supper at Mary’s Diner. Anna could leave while he and his men were eating. Rubydale was only a few hours away. She and Ben could make the trip safely.
With promises to write and Mandy wrapped well against the coolish spring night, Anna had stepped out of her sister’s farmhouse and into the darkness.
“Take me to the moon, Mama.” Mandy pointed up at the canopy of broadleaf maples hiding the sky.