Cooper's Wife. Jillian Hart

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.

      Anna’s heart twisted. “All right. But we have to be very, very quiet.”

      “I’m very quiet.”

      Anna followed Ben out into the driveway.

      “Silly Betsy,” Mandy giggled as the mare grabbed the little girl’s hem with her wide long tongue.

      “Betsy, are you going to let us by?” Anna patted the animal warmly. The sweet horse rubbed against her hand, then waited patiently as they passed by.

      Ben helped her up into the wagon seat, and she thanked him. Anna cradled Mandy on her lap and drew Meg’s best fur around them. “Look up. Can you see the man in the moon?”

      Mandy nodded. “He’s watchin’ over us.”

      “And he chases all those night monsters away and keeps us all safe.” Anna pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, wishing on the moon. Ben released the brake and the wagon moved away in the darkness, leaving the warm, lit windows of Meg’s house behind until there was only black forest and night.

      “So far, so good,” Ben whispered.

      But then a horrible noise shattered the peace of the night, the stillness of the mountain valley. The sound of horses galloping down the road behind them, voices low and loud. Five, maybe six, riders.

      “Meg.” Fear snaked down her spine. She twisted around, straining to see through the impossible dark. “We can’t leave her.”

      “Don’t worry.” Ben pulled the wagon off the road and set the brake. “If there’s any trouble, you go on without me.”

      Ben jumped down, took out his revolver, and ran. Anna sat in the wagon for what felt like hours, fearing the worst. Dalton wouldn’t hurt Meg, would he?

      Finally Ben returned. Meg had feigned innocence and told Dalton and his men that Anna had headed south toward Wyoming. They had believed her, believed Anna had said nothing about Dalton’s dual identity. Meg’s lie would buy them enough time to reach Rubydale and the morning’s stage. If their luck held.

      “Mrs. Bauer?”

      His voice came low and gentle, but Anna bolted away from the window. A man towered in the threshold, nothing but shadows and powerful male steel and strength.

      “I couldn’t find your daughter’s storybook.” The sheriff lifted one shoulder in an apologetic shrug.

      “Thank you for looking.”

      “It was no problem.” He strolled closer, his boots resounding on the floorboards. “But I didn’t want to come here empty-handed, so I brought my daughter’s book. It will have to be a loan, I’m afraid. But you keep it as long as your little one needs to hear stories.”

      Anna’s throat tightened. “I can’t tell you how—” Tears stung her eyes. “This means a lot.”

      “Is there anything I can get you?” He offered her the book gripped by big, blunt-tipped fingers. Very male. Very capable.