Contents

Sheriff’s Unexpected Family

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Epilogue

Word from George

About the Author

Sheriff’s Unexpected Family

Copyright © 2017 by George McVey

 No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote brief excerpts in a review. 

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

All Scriptures in this book are from the World English Bible, which is in the public domain in every nation of the world and for the ease of reading.

This book was written by a human author, not an A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) This book cannot be used to train an A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) how to write a book.

Dedication

Early this year someone shared with me a story about a family that had a heartbreaking story; their second child was diagnosed with a medical condition called Trisomy 13. They were informed that it was severe enough that doctors didn’t expect her to ever be viable to sustain life. This little one fought all the odds and lived longer than doctors expected. This family’s story touched my heart. There love and devotion to this brief life, and their dedication and belief in God’s faithfulness.  

I contacted them when I saw their story and asked for permission to use their baby’s name as the heroine of a book. They graciously agreed. Now I just needed the right Heroine to use this special name. When I started The Mail-Order Brides of Sanctuary series, the heroine for this book had no name. However, as I wrote it, I knew I would name this special woman after that special infant.

I wrote this book in memory of Abbie-Ann Johnson. Whose life ended before it even began.

To her family: I hope the life I gave her while not without its own hardships brings you joy. Thank you for letting me use her name and honor her and you with a life lived in this story.

You can see The Johnson’s journey with the real Abbie-Ann here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDAvzOD1Le0&t=602s

Acknowledgments

My thanks this time goes to many people. As always, first and foremost to the creator of everything, our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the one who gives me the tales that I spin. Without Him, I wouldn’t be able to do what I do. 

To my wife, Sheri. I knew when I saw you, that you were the one for me, even if it earned me a knuckle sandwich. Now, thirty-four years later, that is still true. You, my love, are still the one that makes my heart sing. The one I’ll love until my very end.

I always thank those who improve my book; this time isn’t any different. To my proofreaders and beta readers. Each of their opinions and suggestions makes this a better book. 

Thanks also go to my editor on this project, Carolyn Little Lane. I met Carolyn when she wrote me to tell me that her mother loved my books. She and her family have become some of my stalwart supporters. She even offered to help me proofread and edit my books, and I am blessed to have her help on this project. As I always say, any mistakes found in this book are mine alone. I probably changed something at the last minute. 

To my friends over at the Pioneer Hart Facebook group who helped me name Deputy “Bob”. Thanks for all your suggestions. I’ve saved several of the names you gave me for future use. 

To those Facebook friends who took time to help me pick the movie and TV cowboys and others who’ve been slipped in this novel. Thanks for all your wonderful suggestions. I promise you’ll see some others in later books. 

More than thanks go to my friends and family. You know who you are. The people I ignored as this project took on a life of its own. I appreciate your understanding and kindness in not holding it against me. 

Finally, to you, the reader. Without you, there would be no point in what I do. I give life to my characters, but you share that life and make it more real. I pray this book brings you enjoyment.

Prologue
 

Jack

 Jackson Carlyle Fury walked down the lane in Boston whistling a merry tune with an enormous smile on his face. He had just finished work for the day, had picked up a bouquet of mixed flowers for his soon-to-be-wife, and was now just two doors from surprising her. 

Everything was perfect in his life. He was a partner with his father at one of the most prestigious law firms in the city; Fury and Fury had never lost a case, and he was making a name for himself. 

He’d just made the last payment on a brownstone in town, and tomorrow he was marrying the love of his life, Miss Lucille Vanderbilt of the Boston Vanderbilts. Not only did he love the young lady, but her father was also a prominent lawyer with his own successful firm. Their marriage would connect the two firms, making both stronger. 

He stepped up to the walk leading to her family's manor and noticed a coach and driver waiting out front. Obviously, some of Lucy’s out-of-town guests had already arrived and were visiting. Jack, as he liked to be called, knocked on the door and waited. Within seconds, the Vanderbilt butler, Harold, opened the door and his eyes grew wide. “Hello, Harold,” Jack said as he stepped inside the house. “Is Lucille home? I thought I’d surprise her with a visit before I’m banished until the wedding.”

The man seemed to choke on something. Jack patted the older man on the back. “Are you alright there?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I’m fine, Mr. Fury. I’m sorry to say Miss Lucille is unavailable at the moment.”

Jack frowned. “Unavailable? Is she out?”

“Um... No, sir... she isn’t feeling well, sir, and has retired to her rooms.”

Jack looked up the stairs, “She’s sick? Has anyone called the doctor? What has he said?”

“Oh, no, sir, we haven’t sent for the doctor; she only said she wasn’t feeling well and would retire early, sir. I’m sure she’ll be quite back to normal in time for your nuptials, sir.”

Just then, they both heard a heavy moan come from upstairs. Jack looked at the man and pointed, “Send for the doctor right now.” He rushed toward the stairs to see what was wrong with his fiancé. 

“Sir, I assure you she is fine; please don’t bother yourself.”

Jack never slowed, and when he reached her door, he heard her moan several more times. He tore it open and froze at the scene before him. There in his intended's bed was a man holding her down and ravishing her. 

Jack grabbed him by the hair and yanked him out of the bed. “Unhand her!” he yelled and pulled him from the bed and punched the man while shouting, "Someone send for the constable.” 

It stunned him when Lucille attacked him. “Jackson, leave him alone. What are you doing?”

 He stopped in shock and looked upon the woman he was to marry. She had on her dressing robe and nothing else. “I’m punishing this man for attacking you.”

She laughed. “Jackson, that’s Harrison. You know, Harrison! His family are old friends of my family. He wasn’t attacking me.”

He turned, “What? What are you telling me, Lucille?”

"I'm telling you you had no business bursting into my room and attacking my friend.”

His eyes narrowed. “You invited him up here. For this?”

She sighed. "Of course. Harrison’s a gentleman. He’d never force his way into my room. He doesn’t have to."

“What do you mean, he doesn’t have to?”

“Harrison comes to my room every time he comes to visit us.” 

“You’ve been giving yourself to this man?”

“Yes, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a pleasant diversion.”

“Well, I hope the two of you will be very happy together.” He turned and started out of the room.

Lucille grabbed his arm. “What does that mean?”

“It means, I hope you and he have a long and happy marriage.”

She laughed. “Jackson, I’m not marrying Harrison. I’m marrying you, tomorrow.”

Jack turned, his eyes wide in shock. “I find you in bed with another man, giving to him what by all rights should have been given only to me. Yet you still think you’re marrying me tomorrow?”

“Of course, silly. I told you this meant nothing. It was one last diversion to keep my mind off of how nervous I was about our wedding.”

“There will be no wedding! Not between you and me.”

Her voice rose in anger, “Excuse me?”

“NO! I will not excuse you. I will not marry a woman who has taken another man into her bed just hours before she was to become my wife.”

Now her eyes narrowed in anger. “We are getting married tomorrow, Jackson. Now stop this nonsense.”

“You may get married tomorrow, Lucille Vanderbilt. However, it won’t be to me. Not tomorrow, not ever!” He started down the stairs when she grabbed him again. 

“You will marry me tomorrow, Jackson Fury, or I will have Daddy sue you for breach of promise. I will ruin you and your family.”

He stopped, faced her, and came back up the stairs until he was standing looking down into her hazel eyes. “You go right ahead and do that, Lucille. You seem to forget I NEVER lose in court. Have your Father sue. Let me explain what will happen then. You will be given a case date.

We will go to court where I will call your lover here as a witness my first witness.

“ will question him while he is under oath. I’ll ask him to detail every act of passion you and he engaged in. I will ask for the specific number of times he provided you with a distraction, I think you called it. Next, I will call your maid as a witness. Of her, I will ask how many men you’ve taken into your bed as ‘distractions’ and how many times each man has ‘distracted’ you. Henry will be the next witness. He will be asked the same questions as your maid. 

Afterward, I will put your mother on the stand, followed by your father. Of each of them, I’ll ask if they knew you were giving yourself to this man. I will ask them how long they’ve known. They will be asked if they knew when I asked to court you! I will ask them if they knew when I asked for your hand in marriage. 

If as I suspect your maid or Henry has names of other distractions, I’ll call them to the stand as well. I’ll question each of them under oath about the details of their encounters with you. I will get in explicit detail every deed committed to you and by you. Then I will put you on the stand." 

He moved very close and sneered at her. "Where, under oath, I will force you to tell, in explicit detail, every intimate thing you and this man did together for the entire courtroom to hear. We will force you to replay every single act you committed with every single ‘distraction’ you’ve had while we courted. 

When I’m done, not only will you lose your court case. But I’ll ensure the entire transcript of the trial falls into the hands of the society page editor at the Boston Globe. I will destroy your and your father’s reputation. I will make it my mission to destroy his business and discredit your family’s name. When I’m finished, it will be as ruined as you are.”
Jack leaned even closer so that his mouth was beside Lucille’s ear and he whispered into her ear, as he used to whisper words of love. “So, please go ahead Lucille, have your father sue me. I beg you. Nothing would please me more right now.”

With those words, he turned and walked out of the still-open front door. By the time he’d arrived home, he knew what he was going to do. Jack told his parents the wedding was off. He explained to his mother and father what had happened and then went upstairs to pack. Jack asked his father to sell his house, and he went to the bank and closed his account. He went to the train station and bought a ticket as far West as he could go. 

He’d heard there was a need for lawmen in the west. The reason there was such a large need was because lawmen died young out West and that suited him just fine. Jack would find a town with a reputation for losing lawmen and become a lawman there. He’d never have to worry about another woman destroying his heart. He’d be dead before the year was out. 

Jack wondered if Lucille would cry when she heard the news of his death. Or would she ask Harrison to come and distract her from her sorrow?   

The next morning Jackson departed Boston determined to never return. He went to the train depot and purchased a ticket to the town of Tombstone in the Arizona territory. From everything he read, lawmen were killed there regularly and for Jackson that was perfect.

One

One year ago

Abbie-Ann Johnson looked at the two men sitting in her parlor. They’d asked to see her at her father’s funeral, and she’d told them to call on her this evening. Her startling deep-blue eyes were still red from the weeping she’d done since her father’s passing. Now the news her father’s lawyer and banker gave her left her with a sinking feeling. She looked back and forth from one to the other. I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What do you mean, I’ll have to move? Johnson Fields is my home.” 

Mr. Hawthorn from the bank cleared his throat. “As I explained, Miss Johnson, your father died with considerable debt. He’d not paid his workers in months and took a loan out on the plantation. That payment is several months in arrears, as well. The trustees of the bank feel that we must call in the overdue loan.” 

Abbie-Ann looked at Mr. Davis, her father’s lawyer. “How can this be? We have always lived on Johnson Fields. Where did our money go, Mr. Davis?” 

“Abbie-Ann, your father had been losing money since the war. Most plantation owners have; it’s how these Yankee carpetbaggers have been able to take over just about everything.” He looked at the banker with disgust. “Your father needed to pay the darkies now and knew he didn’t have the money until after the tobacco harvest, so he took out a loan from the bank with Johnson Fields as the collateral. I tried to talk him out of it, but he knew he’d make enough to pay it off with the harvest. Then he fell ill, and the money went to pay for the doctor and medicines instead of the workers. Without pay, they refused to harvest the crop, and now it’s lost.” 

Abbie-Ann looked back and forth between the two men. “So you're telling me, sirs, that I’m destitute?” 

The New York-born Mr. Hawthorn cleared his throat again. “Not exactly, there is a small inheritance that has been held in trust for you from your Grandmother. However, it is not sufficient to cover the amount owed to the bank. I’m afraid that you have ten days to vacate the premises, or the bank will be forced to have you removed by the law.” 

Abbie-Ann looked at her father's lawyer and old family friend. “But what is to become of me?” 

Before Mr. Davis could answer her, she heard the voice of another of her father’s oldest friends speak from behind her. “I couldn’t help but overhear, my dear. I have a few apartments that I rent to my employees. The rate is reasonable and I would be willing to make one available to you. I also know that your embroidery skills are without match; my customers will just adore having your fine stitching on their latest fashions.” 

Abbie looked at Buford Justice. Ever since she had been a little girl, his smile had seemed faked. In the last few years, as she’d matured, her feelings around him took on a different tone. His looks made her feel like she’d slipped in the pond and been covered in the green slime that covered the bottom. Even so, as she had no other options, she wasn’t really in any position to say no. “Thank you, Uncle Buford. I believe that you have just come to my rescue.” 

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Johnson. Come call on me tomorrow and I will have one of the gels show you the open apartment. Then we can discuss your employment.” 

The man patted her on the head like he’d done when she was young, only this time the feeling made her skin crawl. She took a shuddering breath and turned back to the banker. “May I assume, sir, that your bank owns everything in Johnson Fields?” 

The Yankee nodded. “We do, Miss Johnson, but we are not without some sympathy for your situation. Mr. Davis has suggested we allow you to keep your personal effects, and though they would go a long way in covering your father's debt, you may keep your mother's diamond necklace and the earring set that matches them. Nothing else, though.” The man stood and nodded to her. “Again, allow me to express my condolences, Miss Johnson, on the passing of your father.” 

After he had left, Mr. Davis took her hands in his. The kindly old gentleman was her father's other dear friend. “Abbie-Ann, come stay with me and Darla for a while. Don’t take Justice up on his offer. There are rumors about his treatment of the girls who work for him. In short, they say he is a lecher and has ruined more than one maid in recent years.” 

Abbie-Ann almost agreed, but she was a southern belle and, as such, was unaccustomed to receiving charity. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Davis. However, as I am all alone in the world now, I must learn to stand on my own two feet. I shall be fine.” 

The lawyer looked at her for a time before he nodded and let her hands go as he stood. “If that is your decision, I will have your inheritance released to you tomorrow. Come to my office after meeting with Justice and I shall have the funds for you. I suggest that you not put them in Mr. Hawthorn’s bank, or he will find a way to attach them to your father's debt.” 

“Thank you for your kind advice, Mr. Davis. I shall do as you advise.” 

Abbie-Ann stood and moved off to accept the condolences of others within the community. She began to notice the looks of pity from those she had considered her friends and equals. They knew of her loss of fortune as much as her loss of her father, and she was suddenly something to be looked at with pity. This reversal of fortune also meant that any prospect of an advantageous marriage had just evaded her grasp as well. She sighed to herself. She didn’t see how things could get any worse.

Two months later

Abbie-Ann’s hands hurt. She had never sewn so much as she had in the last two months. She was grateful for the job that Mr. Justice gave her. Between her meager wages and the small inheritance her grandmother had left her, she was doing better than most of the other girls she worked with. They had been leery of her at first. After all, she was dressed as one of Richmond’s debutants while they all wore the simple dresses of the working class. 

One of the first things she had done was to go to the general store and buy some basic work dresses. Even what she considered simple day dresses had been too fancy for the dress shop that she worked in now. 

She’d shared some of her dresses with her co-workers, earning her a little measure of their friendship. In return, they had warned her never to allow herself to be caught alone in the back room with Mr. Justice. The rumors about his attention to his workers were well-founded. More than one young woman had found him making unwanted advances; they warned Abbie-Ann that several girls had suddenly quit after being trapped with him in those back rooms. 

Now here she was, the last to leave as she was rushing to complete embellishments on a gown for the first ball of the season. She had just finished the last scroll on the collar and was hanging the gown to be picked up the next day when Buford Justice turned to her. “Well, my dear, are you finished with Miss Spencer’s gown then?” 

“Yes, Mr. Justice.” 

The man slid close behind her, almost touching her. She tried to step away but was trapped between him and the counter. “Yes, it’s well done. Thank you for staying until it was finished.” 

“It’s my job, Mr. Justice.” 

“Abbie-Ann, all the other girls have gone home. You can call me Buford; after all, we are old friends, aren’t we?” He put his hands on her shoulders and she resisted the urge to shudder. 

“We have known each other a long time, yes, sir.” 

“Yes, well, when we are alone, there is no need to be so formal.” He let his hands trail down her arms before stepping back. Abbie-Ann swallowed the gorge that rose to her throat. She needed to get home and take a hot bath immediately. The man’s touch left her feeling dirty. 

“I’ll just be going now, Mr. Justice.” 

He looked out the door and turned back to her. “It’s dark already, Abbie-Ann. I shall walk you home. It wouldn’t do to allow my oldest friend’s only living daughter to come to harm, now would it?” 

“That’s not necessary, sir. It’s only a few short blocks. I am sure I shall be fine.” 

He shook his head, “No, I must insist, my dear. It is only right that a woman such as yourself has a safe escort. I will brook no argument on this, Abbie-Ann.” 

Little warning bells went off in her head, but this was her Uncle Buford. She could not think of a good reason to refuse his kind offer. She nodded, “If you’re certain, Uncle Buford.” 

“I’m positive, and it’s just Buford, Abbie-Ann. After all, you aren’t a little girl anymore.” His look roamed over her figure, causing a shiver to pass through her. That look had made her feel like he was stripping her clothes off of her, and she knew she’d made a mistake agreeing to have him walk her home. 

Thankfully, the walk home was indeed short. She had just unlocked her apartment and turned to thank him for his concern for her safety when he grabbed her and forced her into the apartment. His cold, slimy lips locked her. 

Thankfully, she kept his mouth off hers. Abbie-Ann struggled and fought, trying to escape from this man she had trusted but, in the end, he tore her dress away and her innocence shortly after. 

When he was finished with her, he looked at her. “Now Abbie-Ann, you belong to me. If you are smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut. I am a man of good standing and you are nothing but a lower-class girl, without a man to protect you. I’ll keep quiet about our time and will return when I feel like it. You will open the door for me and keep me happy or you will find out just how alone you are here in Richmond.” He left, closing the door behind him.

She spent hours scrubbing herself with the hottest water she could stand. Her skin was red and raw from scrubbing, but nothing she could do made her feel clean. She sat in the middle of her room and wept over the loss of her life and of her innocence. She was ruined. If word got out, there would only be two options left open to her. Work as a strumpet in one of the local taverns or become some wealthy man’s mistress. 

Mr. Justice had said that he would return whenever he felt the need, and that thought, more than any other, caused her to dress and flee to the only safe place she could think of. The church she had attended for the last two months. 

She had poured out her tale to the pastor and his wife. They had taken her into their home and shown her a third option. There had been sent to the church letters from godly Christian men out west who were looking for mail-order brides. They urged her to choose one and write the man. 

She looked them over and chose the letter that seemed safest. 

The one she chose was from a man named Henry White, a deputy sheriff in Sanctuary, Montana Territory. After reading his letter, she sat down and sent him her plea. 

Dear Mr. White, 

My pastor and his wife showed me your letter because they thought we might make a suitable match. My name is Abbie-Ann Johnson, and I am from Richmond, Virginia. 

Until two months ago, I lived at home with my father on a plantation here in Richmond. After a brief illness, my father passed, and I found myself alone in the world. Your letter seems to state that you are looking for a wife of refinement who could be a help to you as you rise in society and politics. I have experience with hosting social affairs for my father and believe we could both benefit from a union. 

I am nineteen years old, with dark hair, and eyes that people say are deep blue. I have been told frequently that I am the belle of the ball, so I will admit that I am pleasant of countenance. While unusual for one of my station, I know how to cook, clean, and keep a home. My father believed that a woman can’t run a household of servants if she doesn’t understand how to do the work, she requires of them. If you think we would make a suitable match, please return my correspondence. 

I look forward to hearing from you, 

Miss Abbie-Ann Johnson 

Now all she could do was wait and see. The pastor and his wife agreed she needed to leave Mr. Justice’s employment and apartment lest she be put into the position of having his attention forced on her again. They offered to let her stay with them. As the pastor’s wife was expecting their first child, they would appreciate her help. 

They assured her that if Mr. White didn’t choose her as a wife, there would be other opportunities. The pastor in Sanctuary had stated that several single men would seek wives in the next year. She could stay and work for them until she had found a husband out west. She thanked them and knew all she could do now was watch and wait.

Two

Sanctuary. Ten months later

Henry White, his boss Sheriff Jack Fury, and Pastors Bryce and Long stood at the stagecoach depot waiting on the stage. It was exactly a year since the men of Sanctuary had sent to churches back east for mail-order brides. Henry was waiting for his second choice. His first pick hadn’t worked out. She was not a woman of good social standing, as she had proclaimed. Instead, she was the widow of a gambler. 

As far as Henry was concerned, Virginia Snow was a liar, thief, and swindler. He’d broken his suit with her when he’d found out who she was, and she’d married another man within the community. Why no one but himself saw her for what she was, he didn’t understand. Now she was a beloved member of the community and every time he saw her, it turned his stomach. 

She was heavy with child, further proof to him of her low character. She’d become pregnant almost immediately after her marriage to Glenn Williams. Leading Henry to believe the two of them had been engaged in relations before he broke his engagement to her. 

However, he was ready to put all that behind him. This bride was a southern belle. He was sure Abbie-Ann Johnston would be the wife he needed to help him repair his reputation in town. With her by his side, he'd rise to the top of the social scene, such as it was, in Sanctuary. 

He had big plans, and he just needed the right woman to help him achieve them. He wanted to rise above his half-breed heritage to become a member of Montana’s elite. He desired to become a member of the first state Congress when Montana became a state. A southern woman of breeding would help him achieve that goal. 

Pastor Bryce was speaking to him. “Remember Henry, this is your last opportunity as far as the church-sponsored mail-order brides go. We expect you to honor this commitment. There will not be a repeat of the way you treated Virginia. Is that understood?” 

“Yeah, I got it. I had every right to break my engagement to Mrs. Snow. She lied and swindled her way to Sanctuary. She was not what she told me she was. I still don’t understand why ya’ll insist that I was the one in the wrong.” 

Jack Fury put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “No one is saying that deciding not to marry her was wrong. You both had that option, as was stated at the beginning of this venture. It was berating her in public without all the facts and then insulting her to her husband's face that has us concerned.” 

“Well, you’ll have nothing to worry about this time. Miss Johnson is a lady raised on a southern plantation. I’m sure she’s exactly what I’m looking for in a wife.” 

Pastor Long pointed up the street. “Well, we'll know soon enough. Here comes the stage now.” 

Sure enough, the stagecoach was slowing to a stop. As Miss Johnson was the only bride expected, there wasn’t the crowd there had been the last two times the bride had arrived. Henry waited, and soon enough he would meet his Southern Belle. 

The sound of an infant squalling could be heard coming out of the stage. It reminded Henry of the orphan that Pastor Bryce’s mail-order bride Hattie had adopted. The infant had been given into Hattie's care when her mother had passed away on the stage to Butte. 

The door opened and a young woman with dark hair and the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen stepped from the stage with a bundled-up infant in her arms. Henry’s eyes narrowed. Maybe the child belonged to another woman on the stage. 

He waited for anyone else to disembark, but none came. The young woman saw the four men, two with badges on their chest, and smiled. “Hello, I’m Abbie-Ann Johnson, would one of you gentlemen be Mr. Henry White?” 

Henry glared at the woman. “I’m Henry White.” He pointed at the infant, “Miss Johnson, whose child is that?” 

The young woman blushed and hung her head. “He is mine, Mr. White.” 

Henry, his face twisted in anger and disgust, turned to Pastor Bryce. “What kind of churches are you writing to? This one is worse than the first one. I thought you said these were good Christian women, not women of loose moral character.” 

With that, he turned and stalked away. Jack Fury called out to him. “Deputy, stand fast!” 

Henry stopped and turned to face his boss, who was stomping toward him. “Get your sorry hide back there and apologize to the lady.” 

Henry pointed at the woman. “That’s no lady, and I’ll have nothing to do with her.” 

“You will see her settled at the Bride House and hear her out. Or you can give me that badge and get out of my town right now.” 

Henry stood still, rage rushing through his veins. He could see the same fire in Jack’s stance as well. “That woman just got off the stage. She took my money for a free ride out west. She isn’t a woman of good standing, as she claimed. No, she’s some trollop with an illegitimate child. Yet y’all threaten my standing in the community and my job? Have y’all no sense of right or wrong?”

Jack tried to put his hand on Henry’s shoulder, but the younger man knocked it off. “Henry you don’t know any of that. You’re making assumptions without all the facts. Just like you did with Virginia Williams. I’m not saying you need to march over to the church and marry her. 

I’m saying you need to keep your word. Settle her at the Bride House and find out all the facts before you go disparaging the Lady’s honor. I can’t have a deputy who flies off the handle and makes assumptions without hearing the facts. So get your hide over there and make this right.”

Henry shook his head. The men of this town had no common sense. Henry glared at his boss with anger. “I’m not having anything to do with that sinful woman or her bastard child. As for being your Deputy…” 

Henry yanked the badge off his vest and hurled it at the sheriff. “You people disgust me. Just try to find another deputy as good as I am. You won’t, do you know why? Because I see through all this crap. Y’all just want to keep me down. Well, I won’t let you.” He walked over to his horse and thundered out of town.   

Abbie-Ann

Abbie-Ann stood still. The accusation her intended had hurled at her stung. He didn't even wait for an explanation; he'd called her loose and stormed away. The other lawman had gone after him, but he’d thrown something at the man and ridden off without another word to her. 

The lawman walked back to them. He looked at the others and shook his head. 

“He dropped his suit, and I fired him. I told him if he wasn’t going to treat the lady right, he needed to get out of Sanctuary. I expect he’ll go spend time on his spread while he figures out what to do.” 

The lawman turned to her; Abbie-Ann’s heart sped up, and she gasped as their eyes locked. This man was the most handsome she’d ever seen with his black hair and dark eyes, a few day's stubble on his face. Those eyes trapped her; they called to something deep inside her. She couldn’t help but speak the words weighing down her heart. “Now what will I do? I have no place left to go. This marriage was my only chance.” 

The man who had introduced himself as Pastor Bryce opened his mouth to say something when the lawman said words she never expected to hear. “I’ll marry you. You have nothing to worry about, Miss Johnson. I’ll care for you and your child.” 

“Jack, are you sure about this?” The younger pastor asked. 

The man, Jack, looked at Pastor Bryce. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Joshua. She’s here for me.” 

He turned back to Abbie-Ann. “Isn’t that right, Honey?” 

She swallowed as the connection between them snapped back into place and those eyes called to her. Without a thought Abbie-Ann found herself answering. “Why yes, I believe I am.”

Three

Jack

Jack couldn’t believe what had happened. One minute he’d been waiting with Henry for his deputy’s bride to arrive and the next he declared his intention to marry the woman. Yet here she stood with her dark, almost black hair with auburn highlights running through it, and eyes the color of deepest blue. She stood so that the top of her head only came up to just under his nose. 

He hadn’t meant to get involved. Jack had decided before coming west to be a lawman that he’d never marry. He’d seen too many widows left because of the violence that came with his job. That was the whole reason he’d taken the job of a lawman, the brief life span. Yet here he stood, still alive and with a fiance and child.

He’d never even had a close call here in Sanctuary, but the town was growing and so would the type of trouble he was going to have to deal with. Already there was talk of the saloon that the Irishman Colum O’Grady was building on the far side of town. There was talk of him sending for working girls. If so Jack’s job would indeed get harder. In his experience, a saloon of that type always brought trouble. 

Jack wondered about that weird connection he’d felt to Abbie-Ann Johnson the first time she had looked into his eyes. She had seemed so lost and alone. He wanted to make that look go away. 

The way he felt about this mail-order bride was so different from… No, he wouldn’t think of her. She was another reason he had vowed to himself never to give his heart to another again. So why had he promised to take on not just a wife, but a child as well? He didn’t know, but the young woman had obviously been through a lot and he was a man of his word. So he was getting married.

“What do you think, Jack?” 

The question put to him by Pastor Bryce dragged him back into the present. “I’m sorry; I was woolgathering there for a minute. What did you ask me?”

Miss Johnson twittered and blushed as the two pastors looked at each other with a knowing smile. They thought he’d been mooning over his sudden bride-to-be, and in a way, he had been thinking of her. Joshua shook his head. 

“I said, I think we should find someplace else for Miss Johnson to stay unless you want to marry her right now and take her out to your place.” 

“Why can’t she stay at the Bride House? That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” 

Pastor Long cleared his throat. “Let’s take this conversation to your house, Joshua. This young woman has to be exhausted. This is not a conversation we need to have in the middle of the boardwalk.” 

Jack started. They were thinking of Miss Johnson’s reputation. They obviously had questions and knew something he didn’t. He nodded and then looked at the two small carpetbags sitting on the curb where the stage driver had unloaded them. “Is this all you brought?”

“Yes, one bag has my and Montrose’s clothing in it. The other has his diapers and things.” 

Jack frowned. “Where are the rest of your things?” 

She looked up at him. “This is everything we have in the world, Sheriff.”

“It’s Jack, Miss Johnson. If we’re to be married, it might be best if you called me Jack.” 

She smiled up at him and his heart all but stopped. She was lovely, but her smile made her almost beautiful beyond compare. It would have made her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen if it just reached her eyes; those deep, penetrating blue eyes that carried the weight of sadness upon them. “I believe you are correct, Jack, and you may call me Abbie-Ann, but never just Abbie.” 

“As you wish, Abbie-Ann. Shall we follow Pastor Bryce to his place?” He took her bags in one hand and offered her his other arm. She settled the still-fussy infant on her hip as she took his arm. “I do believe we shall.” 

They walked along and she looked around, taking in the town. “I’ll be glad to show you the town, Abbie-Ann when we’re done talking with Pastor Bryce and Pastor Long.” 

“Do you live here in town, Jack? I know that Mr. White didn’t. He said something about a small country estate outside of town.” 

Jack choked up with laughter and Joshua snorted. “Henry told you he had a small country estate? Well now, ain’t that a caution? That boy has a two-room shack on forty acres. Not exactly a small country estate. 

But to answer your question, Abbie-Ann, I live on a small ranch about two miles out of town back the way you come in. My place ain’t much bigger than Henry’s, except my house has three bedrooms on the second floor. 

 I have about two hundred acres and about five hundred head of cattle and a small crew of ten cowboys who live in a bunkhouse on my ranch.” 

“So we would live at the ranch then?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I have to spend a few nights a week here in town. I have a room behind the jail that I can stay in. It’s just one big living space with a small stove and a table with two chairs and a bed. It ain’t really a place for a family to stay, per se. Usually, whichever one of us has to stay in town stays there.” 

“I see. And what will you do now that you haven’t a deputy anymore?” 

Jack looked down at her and saw that she felt guilty about Henry. “Honey, don’t you fret about that. Joshua and I will figure something out.” 

“Why would the pastor be able to help you out with your need for a deputy?” 

“Well see, Pastor Bryce was a Texas Ranger before he became a pastor. He’s helped a few times when I’ve needed an extra deputy or had to form a posse. Plus, between the two of us, we know a lot of lawmen who might want to come to a place that is slower and quieter than the bigger cow towns.” 

“Oh.” 

He smiled at her, “Don’t worry none about it. I’ll figure it out.” 

They stepped up to the porch of the parsonage and Joshua nodded to Jack and Randall. “Let me just go tell Hattie what’s going on. Then we can sit in the kitchen and get some food from Miss Johnson. I’m sure she’s hungry and wouldn’t mind a bit of food with our discussion.” 

“I am a bit hungry. Mr. White sent a little money to feed me along the way. I started with a few sandwiches, which got me through the first couple of days. But I could only buy a meal at one of the way stations on the way here.” 

Jack was even angrier now. “Are you saying you ain’t eaten since yesterday?” 

“No, I ain’t saying that.” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Abbie-Ann, when was the last time you ate?” 

“I had a roll yesterday that I saved from dinner the night before.” 

Before he could say anything, Hattie came to the door. “Papa, Sheriff, you all come in and get this lady off her feet.”

“Mrs. Bryce, this is Abbie-Ann Johnson and her son. She ain’t had a proper meal in two days. You wouldn’t happen to have something…”

“Of course I do. Abbie-Ann, you come into the kitchen with me and we’ll get you fixed right up.” 

With that, Hattie took his sudden bride and son into the kitchen, leaving him and Pastor Long to follow behind. 

Abbie-Ann

Pastor Bryce’s wife took Abbie-Ann inside the parsonage. 

She was ushering her right into the kitchen while chatting. 

“You come on in and take a seat. Well, don’t sit if you don’t want to, I know how long that ride is. I came out here as a mail-order bride ten months ago myself. Only I didn't come as far as you did. You’re from Virginia, aren’t ya?” 

“Yes, Richmond.” 

“I’m from Chicago, and even that was too long a trip for me, and I had ten other brides with me. Two of the brides I came with were from Richmond, Anna Driggers who married Daniel Johnston, and Irene Carlton who married Drew Rawlings just three months ago. Do you know either of them?” 

Abbie-Ann smiled at the energetic young woman. She didn’t know how she had so much energy; she seemed to be about ready to give birth any day now. “I know them both. We all went to the same church. They left about ten months ago. I thought I’d be going with them, but Mr. White didn’t send for me until just a few weeks ago.” 

She looked at the pastor's wife as she set about pulling eggs and bacon from the icebox. “Mrs. Bryce, I can cook if y’all need to be sitting down. I well remember how it felt to be right near to birthing and y’all got to be about ready to have that baby any day now.” 

“No, you sit and rest; I need to keep moving. Once I’m down, I won’t want to get back up again. And you must call me Hattie.” 

Abbie-Ann sank on a seat at the table, pulled the blanket she’d swaddled Montrose in, and used it to cover herself and the infant. She knew he was as hungry as she was, and that had been why he was fussing. She discreetly got him nursing and then looked up as the men came into the kitchen. Jack took the seat beside her, and she knew he realized what she was doing by the blush that rose to his face. She thought it sweet that a man who chased outlaws and kept the town safe from the less desirable element was so innocent as to blush over a nursing baby. 

Pastor Bryce looked at his wife and asked. “Hattie, anything I can do to help?” 

“Yes, Joshua, will you go down to the root cellar and get me eight potatoes? I want to make sure Miss Johnson is well-fed and you three hungry men as well.” 

The Reverend placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and let his hand rest on her belly for a few minutes before he turned and went out the back door. 

Pastor Long went over to the stove and took the spatula away from Hattie. “Go sit and talk to our newest bride, my dear. I’ll finish this up. You can slice the potatoes once that husband of yours brings them up.” Abbie-Ann smiled at the huff that Hattie gave, but she noticed the young woman didn’t argue with the older man. “Thank you, Papa.” 

She came and took the seat across from Abbie-Ann. “Your father came with you as a mail-order bride?" 

Hattie smiled. “No, Papa isn’t my father. I was an orphan who attended his church in Chicago.” 

She choked up a bit. “His daughter and I had the same name, just spelled differently. She was supposed to come as Joshua’s mail-order bride, but she got sick before we left. She passed away.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Hattie wiped a tear, smiled, and patted Abbie-Ann’s hand. “Don’t be. She sent a letter telling me and Joshua she had decided not to come marry him anyway and gave us her blessing to marry instead. 

Papa felt like without her, he should be with me. We’ve adopted each other since her passing. He helps with the mail-order brides and fills in for Joshua if something comes up that needs his attention. Now tell me about you. I don’t want to keep calling you Miss Johnson, so what’s your name and the name of that sweet baby you are feeding?” 

Abbie-Ann smiled at the sweet smile in Hattie's voice. “My name is Abbie-Ann Johnson,” and she quickly tucked herself together and buttoned her blouse, uncovering her sleeping son, “and this is Montrose, named after my father.” 

Joshua came in and handed the washed potatoes and a knife to his wife as he sat beside her. “That brings us to the story we need to hear, Miss Johnson. I’m sorry to get personal so quickly, but you understand that you weren’t quite what we expected.” 

“I understand that Preacher, and I have a letter for you from Pastor James in one of my bags.” 

Jack stood, “I’ll get them for you.” 

He walked into the other room and soon returned with both of her carpetbags. She opened the one she knew had her clothes in it, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Joshua. The man opened it and read it. He was only partway through it when the sound of a crying baby came from the other room. Hattie struggled to get up before Jack motioned for her to stay seated. “I’ll go get her for you. Would it be okay if I brought the cradle in for Abbie-Ann to lay her little one in?” 

“Thank you, Jack, and yes, bring the cradle with you. I’m sure RoseAnn will be happy to see you. Besides us and Papa, you’re her favorite, I think.” 

Jack smiled. He left and soon came back with a little blond-haired toddler and a small cradle in his arms. The child was pulling the day-old growth on his face and laughing while he smiled at her. Something about seeing this man who’d stepped up to offer her his name and protection in marriage being so tender and sweet with the toddler made Abbie-Ann’s heart leap in her chest and sent butterflies racing through her stomach.  

As he handed the child to Hattie, she thanked him, and he said. “Her name may be Rose, Hattie, but she doesn’t smell so sweet right now.” 

“Jack Fury, why didn’t you change her while you had her in the nursery?” 

Jack smiled at the fired-up woman. “I believe, Mrs. Bryce, that’s why your husband and I gave her over to your care, or do you not remember the last time I attempted to change that one's diaper?” 

She huffed and worked her way to standing, “I’ll be right back.” 

Joshua looked up and nodded at Abbie-Ann, letting her know he’d read the letter. He cleared his throat. “Would you mind if I showed this to Jack and Pastor Long?” 

“No, Sir, I don’t. Pastor James thought that this would make it easier on me not to have to recount that horrible night yet again.” 

“I understand.” 

He handed the letter to Jack. Jack took it, walked around the table, and set the cradle beside her so she could lay Montrose down. As she did so, Pastor Long slid a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes in front of her and then one in front of where Jack sat reading the letter. He finished setting plates on the other side of the table. Abbie-Ann knew the moment that Jack read the words describing the attack on her. His hands turned white from gripping the letter so hard. He slammed it to the table and slid it over to Pastor Long and then turned to her. “I didn’t finish it. Tell me, did they arrest him?” 

She looked at this man. He was strong and good. How she knew he was what he appeared, she didn’t know. Maybe because of the anger at the wrong done to her shining in his eyes. “No, they did not. They said that it was my word against his. I was without status at that point, just another girl working in his shop. He was a wealthy businessman. The law officers whom we talked with insinuated that I got what I deserved for leading him on.” 

Jack's hand flashed down to the gun tied to his leg, his hand resting on the butt like he wished there was someone to shoot. “I’m sorry, Abbie-Ann.” 

Then Jack looked at Pastor Bryce, “Ain’t nothing in that letter changes anything to me. I’m marrying her, and I’ll adopt the child. God help that man if he sets one single foot in my town because we won’t need Judge Bean. I’ll plant him in Boot Hill.” He reached out and took Abbie-Ann’s hand in his. “Let me do this right. Abbie-Ann Johnson, will you marry me and allow me to adopt your son as my own?” 

A tear slipped out of her eye. This man had no reason to do this. He hadn’t sent for her. They hadn’t written to each other. He had no reason to ask her except for being a good, compassionate man. She had been under no illusion that she was coming to marry for love. She’d come to marry a stranger after all, but could it be possible that she could learn to love this man with time? 

Even if she couldn’t, she knew somehow that he would do just what he’d asked; he’d marry her and take her son as his own. All this went through her mind in a second as she looked into his eyes. “Yes, I will.” 

Pastor Bryce cleared his throat. “That’s not how this is supposed to work, you know. You're supposed to court for a time to see whether you will suit.” 

Jack was shaking his head. “No, Joshua, not this time! I won’t leave her one more day without the protection of my name. If she’d come out with Hattie’s set of brides, then I’d have taken the time. 

We both know that this town is changing. I won’t leave an unmarried woman with a child to the types of men showing up around here. Nor will I leave her to deal with the tongues of those women from this last round of brides.” 

Hattie came into the room. “What did I miss?” 

Abbie-Ann watched as Jack looked at the two worn carpetbags at her feet. “I’ll let Joshua fill you in on what is going on, Hattie, but I have a question for you. How long for you to make Abbie-Ann a wedding dress, six everyday dresses, and two Sunday go-to-meeting dresses?” 

“I can send the word out to Lyla and we can have a work dress by Monday. I’ll have one dress that should work with some alterations by this time tomorrow for Sunday. Then another and a wedding dress by the following Sunday.” 

“So ten days?” 

“Yes. That should be possible if Lyla can come to help me. Sooner if I get the brides together.” 

Abbie-Ann spoke up. “I can help as well. I have a fair hand at sewing and embroidery work.” 

“Then that’s done. Our wedding is a week from Sunday, after services. That will give me time to show her around and get to know her, and her know me. It will also let me get my place in order for a wife.” 

Joshua cleared his throat. “That’s fine, but what are we going to do with her until then? I don’t think we should put her up in the Bride House. As Jack has just reminded me, this new batch of brides is not like the first batch. They aren’t close, and Randall and Myrtle have had their hands full keeping my cousin, Helen, from beating the stuffing out of most of them already.” 

Randall nodded and chuckled. 

“Then where?” Jack asked, taking her hand. “She can’t stay out at my place, even if I stay in town. That won’t help her reputation at all.” 

The three men looked stumped until Hattie started laughing. “We’ll take her to Virginia and Glenn. She can stay with them.” 

The three men looked at each other, “That could work. Think they’ll help for a few days?” 

Hattie smiled. “Sure, they will. After all, Abbie-Ann and Virginia have a lot in common, don’t they? Well, one big thing here in Sanctuary.” 

The men all nodded, but Abbie-Ann was confused. “What’s that?” 

Hattie smiled, “Henry White broke his marriage contract to Virginia, too.” 

“Oh!”

Four

Jack

Jack looked at his friends. "Let's take her out to the farm. If Glenn and Virginia can’t take her in, maybe Lyla and Greg will be able to." 

“That sounds like the best idea. She could ride in with Lyla to work on her dresses.” 

Joshua nodded, “I agree. I’ll go hitch up the Surrey. It will take the four of us out to the Williams place in more comfort than the wagon would.” 

Jack looked at Hattie. “In the meantime, I have a quick favor to ask of you, Hattie. Will you watch over Montrose for a bit? I want to take Abbie-Ann over to Caudwell’s and make sure she has everything she needs for the next few days.” He motioned to the two small carpetbags. 

Abbie-Ann put her hand to her chest. “I don’t know about that, Jack. Montrose hasn’t been away from me since he was born.” 

He kneeled beside her. “I understand that, honey. We’ll be just across the way there. I want to make sure you and Montrose have everything you need. Hattie will know just where to find us. I’ll bring you right back.” 

She looked at him and slowly nodded. He held out his hand, helped her to her feet, and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Then picking his white Stetson off the back of the chair he’d sat in, he placed it on his head and led her through the house and out to the walk. “I wanted a moment to talk to you as well.” 

She looked at him, and he was caught in those enchanting eyes again. “About what?” 

“Our situation. While I’m rushing to put my ring on your finger, I wanted to make sure you understood I will not require you to umm…” 

He felt his cheeks warming. He was never so thankful for not having shaved the last couple of days as it hid part of his embarrassment. “What I mean is, considering your letter, and the fact that we don’t know each other yet. I thought when you move out to the ranch after the wedding I’d give you and Montrose the big bedroom for a while.” 

He watched as Abbie-Ann’s face blushed, and she looked down. “Is it that you don’t want to be with a woman who was ruined?” 

Jack stopped and turned her to face him, taking both her hands in his. “Don’t think that, honey. You aren’t ruined. I look at you and I see a woman who is strong and a fighter. One that I will be proud to call my wife.” 

“Then why?” 

Jack tucked her hand back in his arm and the two of them walked slowly to the mercantile. “Honey, I’ve been a lawman now for seven. You aren’t the first woman I’ve dealt with who was hurt the way you were. I know that while one part of you needs to know someone wants and loves you. There is the other part that still remembers the attack. I want to give time for the first part to grow and the other to shrink.” 

That was a preview of The Sheriff's Unexpected Family. To read the rest purchase the book.

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