Chapter 2

I don’t want any more trouble from you, Warren.” That distinctive deep voice, edged with controlled authority and just the right amount of friendliness, cut through Leah’s gloomy thoughts. She gazed over at Sheriff Waite, who had just walked back outside with Mr. Givens.

Mr. Givens snorted. “After Welton wins the election next week, you won’t have any more trouble from me—or anyone else.”

“Well, he ain’t won yet, and until the election is decided, I’m the law.” The sheriff squatted down and shoved Leah’s trunk through the office doorway. Filled with everything she owned, that trunk had to weigh two hundred pounds. Yet he seemed to expend no more effort to move it than he did now with her valise.

And there stood Leah, gawking at him like some silly schoolgirl.

She mustered her dignity and returned her gaze to the Bigelows.

“We should be on our way, dear.” The reverend cupped his wife’s elbow. “Will you excuse us, Miss Hermaning, while we collect those wildcats? We have much to do back at home.”

“Of course. It was nice to make your acquaintances.”

In the moments Sheriff Waite took to finish his conversation with Mr. Givens, Leah blinked back the surge of loneliness that now hit her as hard as it had the night Mother died almost three years ago.

Redirecting her thoughts, Leah peered across the way at the pretty tree, a silent Presence seeming to guide her gaze. The cloudless sky was so blue and hung so low, she was tempted to reach out and touch its vastness before the azure heavens met the earth tones of the Badlands. Even the river appeared sandy-brown as it wound its way around town. When Aunt Estelle wrote that One Way had a waterfront, Leah naively compared it to the beach at Newport. Now, however, it was painfully obvious that she’d never again hear the comforting surf that put her to sleep every night back home.

Sheriff Waite came toward her with strides as smooth and confident as his smile. She appreciated his kindness thus far.

“Warren’ll keep an eye on your things for a while and deliver them over to the boardinghouse later.” Smile lines lingered around his eyes, showing Leah that his charming disposition wasn’t a mere act for her benefit. “I’ll give you a tour of the town as we walk there. And more good news—it ain’t a long tour or a far walk.”

His good spirits gave her the courage to respond likewise, as a tour of the town wouldn’t take much more than a full minute. She silently blessed him for lightening her mood. “Tour the whole town at one time?”

His easy laugh put her more at ease, and so did his sky-blue eyes as they flashed admiration for her retort. He pointed ahead, gazing at her with a roguish twinkle in his eye. “This here’s the land office. Luther Welton is the man to see if you’re looking for a good plot for ranching or homesteading.”

“Hmm. Herding cattle, plowing fields—I’m not sure those jobs fit my talents.”

“How about forging iron, then? We’re passing the blacksmith shop.”

“Not sure that will work, either, Sheriff. I’m used to holding a pencil, not a lump hammer.”

They walked by a building with a huge SALOON sign at the entry, and a wicked grin crossed his face. “Guess a Bible-totin’ preacher’s niece wouldn’t want to work there, either.”

Leah had to laugh. “I wouldn’t mind working to shut it down.”

He chuckled. “Well, then, you might be interested to know that the State of Montana pays five dollars for every wolf and coyote skin.” He pointed to the taxidermy shop. “You could make a good living trapping or shooting the varmints. Unless you prefer to keep them as trophies.”

“This city girl has no idea how to shoot. Or trap. Perhaps I should stick to my chosen profession and just teach.”

His eyes turned a shade darker, and the mood shifted somehow. “Well, Miss Hermaning, I’ll admit you seem like a woman who should be surrounded by children—lots of them.”

What did he mean by that? His comment was innocent enough, but it seemed to have more behind it than a mere reference to her profession of teaching. The sheriff had left behind his bantering mood.

If he wanted to discuss their professions, that was fine with Leah. “Are you the only lawman in the area?”

“I’m the only sheriff in One Way—unless folks vote someone else into the position come next Tuesday.” He pointed up the dirt street. “My opponent is Luther Welton. Not only does he own the land office, but he has an invested interest in the saloon, too. He has ideas to build a hotel and gaming facility that sports dancing girls and other entertainment for the men in town.”

Mr. Welton sounded like a man who would benefit from Uncle Robert’s preaching.

“Sheriff’s office is coming up here to the left … and see that rambling building with the two-story porch down there a ways?”

It wasn’t much to look at, but Leah nodded all the same.

“That’s the widow Rigley’s boardinghouse.” They walked farther down the road, passing a well-kept yard surrounded by a white picket fence. “And this”—he stopped on the boardwalk and nodded toward the clapboard house with green trim in front of them—“is my sister Nellie’s house.”

The lace-covered curtain fluttered in the front window. Moments later, a slim young woman hastened outside and to the street, carrying a baby on her hip. “Jesse, what a surprise!”

He grinned and reached for the baby. “Miss Leah Hermaning, this here’s my sister, Mrs. Nellie Evans. And, of course, baby Henry.”

Mrs. Evans stepped forward and gave Leah the warmest hug possible. “I couldn’t wait for you to get here. We don’t have a lot of women our age since the town’s so small. I know things aren’t like you expected, but I’m sure you’ll find happiness with—”

“I think she expected a bigger town.” Sheriff Waite gave his sister a slight frown and an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Mrs. Evans’s eyes widened for a moment. “Oh, right …” She cleared her throat. “Well, while it doesn’t look like much, it’s a fine town. Our pa helped to settle this parcel of Montana, and he and Jesse built One Way from the ground up.”

The sheriff turned to Leah. “My sister is prone to exaggeration. Wasn’t just me and Pa alone. We had lots of help.”

Leah looked from brother to sister and back again. “That’s quite an accomplishment, Sheriff.”

“Not really. Like I said, Nellie stretches the truth.”

“Oh, I do not, Jesse Waite.” Mrs. Evans glanced at Leah. “Pay him no mind—unless doing so lands you in jail.”

Jail? The blood drained from her face. No! She’d never want to spend time behind bars again as long as she lived! “I’ll heed your warning, Mrs. Evans. I wouldn’t want to break the law.”

Sheriff Waite didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He grinned at Henry, who tried to cut his teeth on the sheriff’s star.

“I am most impressed that you’re a town founder, Sheriff.”

“All I did was help build a few houses and barns.”

“And stores, and the bank … Let’s see, what else?” Mrs. Evans ticked off each item on her fingers. “The livery, the mercantile …”

“Old history.”

“Maybe to you, Jesse, but half this town thinks you’re a hero.”

The sheriff sighed, and Leah smiled at his chagrin.

“Jesse’s got big plans for One Way,” Mrs. Evans continued. “He wants the railroad to come through so we’ll have an easier time getting supplies—and we’d get regular mail delivery, too. But best of all, Jesse wants to build a church and a school.”

“I like his plans for One Way’s future more than Mr. Welton’s, that’s for sure.”

“We hoped you’d feel that way. Right, Jesse?”

He turned to Mrs. Evans and cleared his throat—rather loudly and with a slight frown.

“I’ll say what my brother is too polite to tell you, Miss Hermaning, and that is that Luther Welton is a smooth-talking, crooked businessman. Even so, he claims to be a family man, and most folks here think that’s an important quality for One Way’s next sheriff.”

“A family man?” She felt as though a marble had lodged in her throat.

A new preacher in town.

Aunt Estelle and Uncle Robert were traveling missionaries.

Sheriff Jesse Waite needed to win an election.

Oh, Lord, please let this apprehension merely be my imagination running away with me! Her aunt and uncle wouldn’t punish her by sentencing her to an arranged marriage and a life in One Way. Would they?

“We’d best be on our way.” Sheriff Waite carefully placed Henry in Mrs. Evans’s outstretched arms. “Miss Hermaning hasn’t yet spoken to her aunt and uncle.”

A knowing gleam entered Mrs. Evans’s eye. “Well, then, I mustn’t keep you.”

“A pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise, Miss Hermaning, but we’re sure to see lots more of each other. Right, Jess?”

“I’m sure, small town and all.” He shifted his weight before kicking a stone off the boardwalk.

Leah forced a smile, her nerves taut. Something was brewing. Its energy crackled in the summer air.

The sheriff’s gaze met Leah’s. Smile lines vanished, and a soft light entered his eyes. In that moment Leah knew her fate had been decided.