Erica Vetsch - His Prairie Sweetheart

“Hey, Sheriff.” Keenan hopped down from the high stagecoach seat and coiled his whip, threading it up his arm and onto his shoulder. “Good traveling weather, but we could use some rain.” He spit into the street under the horses’ bellies. “That’s some looker I brung ya, huh?” His version of a whisper rattled the windows of the stage office, and Miss Cox’s already straight spine stiffened. If she put that nose any higher in the air, she’d drown in a rainstorm.

“Just get up there and throw down her bag.” Elias adjusted his hat. “I’m supposed to be the teamster today, getting her where she needs to go.”

“Her bag? You mean bags. They’re in the boot.” Keenan swaggered toward the canvas and strapping covering the rear compartment and began setting valises and trunks and bags on the porch.

Four, five, six, seven. “All of these?” She had more baggage than an empress.

“And one inside the coach, too.” Keenan shook his head. “She put up quite a fuss about being careful with that one. Must have all her china in it or something. She brought near everything else she must own. Maybe she’s planning on staying in the territory. It could be she hopes to snag her a husband while she’s here and set up housekeeping. Way she looks, I reckon they’ll be lining up. Won’t matter if she can’t cook a lick nor sew nor garden. A fellow might marry her just to have something that pretty to look at every day.”

Wonderful. This just kept getting better and better. Maybe she had come out here hoping for a husband. There were more men than women in western Minnesota, and a woman of marrying age got snapped up pretty quickly. Pity the poor sap who wound up with her, though. A man needed a helpmeet out here, a woman who could tend the house and garden and children, and help in the barn and fields if the need arose. Miss Cox hardly looked the type to pick up a pitchfork or hoe a row of potatoes. More likely to know how to pour tea and do needlepoint.

Elias gathered several of the bags and brought them to the steps. He staggered, just to get his point across to Tyler. Who needed all this stuff?

“Ah, good. You can load Miss Cox’s things in the buckboard.” Tyler slanted Elias a “behave yourself” older-brother glance, forbidding him any comment on the exotic import standing in the shade of the porch. “I will check in with you as often as I am able, Miss Cox, but Elias will make himself available to assist you in any way he can, should the need arise.”

“Sheriff Parker.” She held out her gloved hand, and Elias let her bags thump to the porch before taking her fingers for a brief clasp. “I’ll try not to be too much trouble, I’m sure.”

Ahm shu-wah.

Elias swallowed, steeling himself not to be swayed from his position by nice manners. He’d been down that road, much to his regret, and he had no desire to repeat his folly.

She turned to Tyler. “Mr. Parker, is this all there is of the town?” She looked both directions along Main Street. Actually, it was the only street. Twenty or so buildings, none of them grand, lined the thoroughfare.

Tyler cleared his throat. “Um, yes, for the time being. But we’re always growing. Snowflake is mostly a farming community, but we’re hoping to draw more commerce to town. Having a good quality school will go a long way in enticing family-owned businesses to our little settlement.”

“I see.” Her faintly bewildered tone said she didn’t see at all. She’d probably never lived anywhere with fewer than a thousand people within shouting distance.

“The buckboard’s over here.” Tyler ushered her up the street. “We’ll have you at your lodgings soon.”

Together, they walked toward the buckboard, and Elias, left with the baggage, forced himself not to stare at the graceful sway of her walk and the way her dress trailed and draped in layers and ruffles. He’d never seen a getup quite like that. She looked as if she should be at some garden club or tea party...not that he had any notion what women wore to tea parties, but her outfit had to be more suited to a social engagement than to traveling across the prairie.

“And which building is the school?” She had to look up at his brother, who wasn’t all that tall. Elias had a feeling he’d dwarf her, since he was half a head taller than Tyler.

“Oh, the school is north of town a ways. They built it there because that’s where the greatest concentration of children is. We’re almost up to a dozen students now.” Tyler smiled and held out his hand to help her into the buckboard. “I do apologize that I am unable to make the rest of the trip with you. I’m heading east on the stage for some meetings in the capitol. I’ll return as soon as I can, but you’ll be in good hands with my brother.”

Elias stowed bags and boxes on the backseat and floorboards. Miss Cox sat in the front seat like a little plaster statue, eyes forward, hands throttling her parasol handle, rigid as a new fence. He was just about to climb aboard when a shout shattered the sultry afternoon air.

“Sheriff, don’t forget this one.” Keenan stomped over, grappling with the odd-shaped box he’d removed from inside the stage.

“Oh, my.” Miss Cox fluttered like a bird. “I can’t believe I forgot. I must be more tired than I thought.”

Elias scratched his head. Where was he supposed to fit that monstrosity? If he’d have known she was bringing enough stuff to supply an army, he’d have brought his pa’s farm wagon.

“Please, be careful. That’s fragile.”

He sighed and wedged the bulky parcel in so it wouldn’t jostle, then climbed aboard and gathered the reins. Looking over at the jailhouse porch, he whistled. Cap shot up and bounded across the street. Elias scooted over and patted the seat between himself and Miss Cox.

Captain needed no second command. He leaped aboard and planted his furry rump on the hard bench. His tongue lolled and dripped dog spit, and he gave Miss Cox a friendly sniff.

She recoiled, eyes wide. “Get back!” She shrank further, looking ready to bolt.

“Whoa, easy, ma’am. He won’t hurt you.” Elias cuffed Captain on the shoulder. “He’s gentle. You act like you’ve never been around a dog before.”

Swallowing, she righted her hat and sat more upright, pressing against the far armrest so hard he thought it might break. “I haven’t, especially not one so...big.”

Captain grinned, showing a lot of teeth, his heavy tail pounding Elias’s leg.

“Are you sure he won’t bite?” Her voice trembled, and a little arrow of guilt pierced Elias. Not enough to overcome his scorn at such irrational fear, of course.

“Unless you’re a bank robber, or a horse thief, or a stubborn sheep, he’ll keep his fangs to himself. Cap’s a first-rate sheepherder and police dog, aren’t you, boy?” The big collie tried to lick Elias’s face, and he laughed, shoving him back.

Tyler frowned, fussing with his tie as he stood by the buckboard. “Perhaps you should leave him here.”

“Nope. I told Pa I’d drop him off at the farm after I ran your errand for you.”

“But Miss Cox—”

“Miss Cox will be fine. She’ll have to get used to a lot worse than sharing a seat with a friendly dog if she’s going to survive out here.”

He chirruped to the sorrel mare, and the buckboard lurched, leaving Tyler behind. They soon reached the outskirts of town and headed north.

Miss Cox leaned forward to talk around Captain, who had his snoot in the air, sucking in the breeze created by their forward motion. “Where are we going? I thought we were heading to my lodgings.”

Elias frowned. Did she think he was taking her on a sightseeing tour of the county first? “This is the quickest way to the Halvorsons’.”