The Sheriff and the Orphan Boy (Preview)

Chapter One

Edward rode along the edge of Sweetsbrough, a small settlement working hard to become an official town, about a six-hour ride from Olathe, Kansas.

Since he had become the sheriff of the sleepy little community a few years back, he made a point to do a lap around the town every morning before he headed into his office.

There was rarely much to see, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

When he passed by the small apple orchard on the edge of town, a wistful feeling filled his chest as the memories of Emily crept in.

It was in that very orchard they were married over five years ago. He’d never forget just how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple dress with lace she had made herself. Emily wasn’t the best lace maker, so it wasn’t fine and delicate like she had wanted, but every stitch was marked by her own handy work and that made it beautiful to him.

But Emily was far more than just beautiful. She was kind. He doubted he would have been able to become the sheriff at all if it hadn’t been for her love and support. Edward had never been the most social person, but Emily was a different story. It seemed like anywhere she went, the second she stepped into a room, she had made a new best friend.

Edward didn’t know it was possible to miss a person that strongly until he lost her. He felt her absence like a physical wound. It was like a chill around his heart that no matter what he did, he would never quite be able to get rid of it.

He sighed to himself as he rode down the dusty trail. It felt like only yesterday he would have started his day with a kiss from his wonderful wife. It was hard to believe it had already been almost four years since she passed away, leaving him alone.

Sometimes he wished they had had a chance to build the family she always talked about. Maybe it would be easier to cope with her loss if they had a child he could take care of; a living reminder of the kind of person she was. Then he would think about trying to take care of their child without her around and a deep cold filled his chest. Edward realized that it was probably for the best that they hadn’t had children after all.

If he couldn’t even look at the paintings she created, how would he feel having to look at their child every day?

He continued to reminisce as he finished up his patrol and headed into town. No sooner had Edward hitched up his horse than he heard a pair of voices call out to him.

He turned to see Michael and James coming out of the sheriff’s office and right toward him. He chuckled at his deputies.

“Are the two of you that eager for me to put you to work?” he called out to them, not that they seemed to take his words too seriously. 

“Good morning to you too, boss,” Michael rolled his eyes and let out a good-natured chuckle. “We got a message for you. The reverend asked if you could run to the next town over and pick something up for him. Seems it was mailed to the wrong address. I asked why he couldn’t just send word and have it delivered, but he insisted that he needed it today.”

Edward frowned, nodding his head. “There’s no need to make him wait. After everything he did for Emily, of course I’ll go. Can the two of you take care of things here while I’m gone?”

“You know we can.”

“Take your time,” James agreed. “You deserve a little bit of a break.”

“Is running errands for someone really taking a break?” Michael rolled his eyes.

“I need to head out. I’ll see you all when I get back,” Edward said, already walking away from them.

Then he hitched a cart to his horse and rode off into the early morning sun. Once he was alone and away from the chatter of his friends, Edward felt the old despair creeping back in.

He couldn’t spend more than a few moments alone with his thoughts before it happened. It was all too easy for his thoughts to turn back to Emily, the beauty of her smile, the kindness that seemed to drip off of every part of her. His memories remained his only companion for the remainder of his ride.

On the way back to town, a sound in the distance caught his attention. Edward fell silent, his ears straining to make out the noises over the roar of the whipping wind.

It almost sounded like a voice. He coaxed his horse to take a few steps in that direction and continued to strain his ears to try and hear what it could be.

A small voice was carried over on the wind. All he could hear was a single word, but it was all that it took to make him race into action.

The word he heard was help.

Edward didn’t waste a second before he sprang into action. He raced over the long, empty plains. His horse’s long legs carried them closer and closer to where he had heard the distant voices drifting on the wind.

As he got closer, the sounds grew clearer and what he heard made Edward race even faster. Frantic screaming rang in the air like a gunshot and a panicked woman’s voice crying out for help. He pushed his horse faster, with the cart rattling and shaking from the effort. He needed to get there. He needed to find whoever was making those sounds and help them before it was too late.

Finally, the disastrous scene came into view. There was a small runaway carriage soaring over the flat land so fast when it went over a bump the wheels seemed to leave the ground. Edward cracked the reigns of his horse, picking up his pace in a desperate attempt to catch up with it.

It was an expensive looking carriage made of dark wood with tassels on the sides of the roof and carvings inlaid on the door. His immediate thought it was a robbery gone wrong, but there wasn’t time to focus on that. His only priority was catching up with it and making sure that no one got hurt.

He could hear someone screaming inside the carriage. Edward began to catch up, but he wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough. There was a cliff just up ahead in the distance and if he wasn’t able to stop the horses or at least change the carriage’s course, it was going to go straight over the edge. 

He rode as fast as he could, pushing his horse, and the wagon, to their absolute limit. The animal panted beneath him, flanks heaving with the effort.

But what else could Edward do? He couldn’t just sit there and watch someone else get hurt. He tried his hardest, but in the end, he wasn’t quick enough. All he could do was call out to them in horror as the carriage fell over the edge. It landed with a thud that slammed him in the chest like a stab through the heart.

Edward raced to find a way down. His hands clutched the leather reigns so hard the stiff leather cut into his hands. Every second it took him to go the long way around to get to the bottom of the cliff felt like an eternity. His heart pounded in time with the horse’s hooves. The dust that was kicked into the air filled his lungs, but Edward didn’t have time to care. He couldn’t help but feel like if anything happened to them at that time it would be on his shoulders. 

When he finally arrived at the bottom, his heart sank like lead. The carriage was broken beyond repair, laying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

He dismounted from his horse and raced over. There were two people inside, and one outside the carriage. The driver. He approached him first, as he seemed to have suffered the worst injuries first. He was a middle-aged man with blood streaking his salt and pepper hair.

Edward knelt to take his pulse, but it was too late. The man was already dead. Then he turned his focus to the other two inside. There was an unconscious child and a woman. She turned to him with glassy eyes.

“My boy. Please look at him first.”

Edward nodded then turned his focus to the boy. His face was pale, there was a small cut on his forehead, and he wasn’t moving. Edward cursed to himself for not being faster before dropping down to check and see if the boy was breathing.

“Is he…” the woman trailed off, unable to bring herself to voice her fears.

“He’s alive. Don’t worry. We aren’t far from Sweetsbrough, it isn’t a big town but there’s a doctor there. Just stay with me.”

He started carefully loading them into the back of his wagon. Then he raced toward town. He kept looking back at where they lay in the back. The boy was so still. Suddenly the woman reached out to him.

“If I don’t make it, send a telegram to Chicago. My Uncle Maxwell lives there. He can take care of him.” She let out a shaky breath and her hand fell away from the back of his jacket.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m going to get you to town and you’re going to be alright. You’re going to live for your son.”

But she didn’t respond. Edward tried not to think about what that could mean. Sweetsbrough rose on the edge of the horizon.

When they made it back to town, Michael and James came over.

“What happened?” James demanded, eyes darting between the two broken and bloody forms Edward had brought back to town.

“Get the physician,” Edward ordered. “There’s been an accident.”

The pair didn’t need to be told twice, racing into action. Edward carefully removed the boy from the wagon, bringing him in to rest on a sofa in his parlor. He’d never been so glad his home was right next to the Sheriff’s office before. Then he went back outside to the carriage to get the mother.

But when he was close enough to reach out for her, Edward froze. She was so still, face pale, eyes shut. With a heavy feeling in his chest, he reached out and took her wrist in his hands, searching desperately for a pause. Where was it? Why couldn’t he find it?

“Let me take a look, Sheriff,” a gentle voice said from behind him.

Edward turned to see the physician, Dr. Davidson standing behind him with a compassionate look on his face.

Edward stepped back without a word.

He held his breath as the man searched for a pulse the same way he had moments before. After a few agonizing moments, he stepped back with a frown and shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, but she’s already gone.”

Edward’s heart sank. It hadn’t been enough. He’d failed. “I see.”

“Was there anyone else involved in the accident?”

“There’s a boy inside. He’s… he was still breathing when I brought him inside.”

“Good to hear it. I’ll head in and take a look at him.”

Dr. Davidson stepped away and Edward let out a long breath before following after him inside. The place was eerily silent, which only served to make his heart sit even heavier in his chest.

Edward paced the front room of his home while the physician treated the boy. He needed to distract himself. His eyes drifted over the room Emily had so carefully decorated when they had first gotten married.

It was hard now that the place was filled with people rushing around trying to save the child not to notice how devoid of life the house had become. Aside from himself, and very occasionally James or Michael for a few minutes here and there, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been inside.

His heart ached at the reminder that the only reason anyone was there now was because of a tragic accident. He couldn’t stop thinking about how still the boy had been when he brought him inside.

Assuming the boy survived—no, there was no assuming he would survive. He had to. Edward didn’t want to be responsible for someone else losing their life. It was already too much to bear that he couldn’t save the rest of his family.

Edward shook the thought from his head. There was no point in thinking about that. What was done was done. What mattered now was what they were going to do when the child woke up. He was so young and already all alone. Edward knew the responsibility would fall to him, but that was for the best. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

James came over to him with a cup of coffee, his gentle voice startled Edward from his thoughts. “Here,” James said, holding it out to him. “I thought you could use something to drink.”

“Thanks,” Edward sighed, taking a sip. He savored the dark, bitter taste of the coffee, letting it ground him.

“What’s the plan when the boy wakes up?” James asked, bringing Edward’s own unspoken concerns into the air.

Edward took a steadying breath. He needed to get a hold of himself. There’s no reason to let his emotions creep in. “We don’t even know if he’s going to yet. Besides, the doctor might have his own thoughts on what should happen.”

“He’s going to be fine,” James assured him. “He’s got a good doctor looking after him and we would have heard something by now otherwise. Do you know who this is? Where could any of his family might be?”

Edward shook his head. “Before she died, we were on the ride over here, his mother told me about an uncle I can reach out to. Someone named Maxwell in Chicago, but that’s all I know.”

“Do we have a last name?”

“No, but I’m sure we’ll be able to get in touch with someone even if it does take a while, and the boy can stay with me in the meantime.”

“With you?” James didn’t bother trying to hide his surprise. Edward could hardly blame him for being shocked. “Are you sure you want that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He crossed his arms. “The boy needs a place to stay, and I have the room.” He didn’t add that he felt responsible for the woman’s death, that he owed it to her to look after her son after he failed to save her. There was no reason to get into all that with him. It was Edward’s own problem to deal with.

James studied him for a moment then nodded in agreement. “Alright, if you think you can handle it then it could work. Just let me know if you need any help. I’m sure Michael would say the same.”

Edward shook his head. “He’s already doing enough by covering for me in the office while we get all of this situated. You should go help him.”

James opened his mouth to reply but before he could get a word out, Dr. Davidson returned, approaching where the pair stood.

“I’ll leave you to it,” James said before stepping away.

Once he was gone, Edward spoke. “How is he?”

Dr. Davidson smiled and Edward felt a little of the weight on him, falling away from his shoulders. “He’s doing well. Aside from a head injury, he seems fine. He even woke up while I was looking him over. He said his name is Tommy.”

“That’s good,” Edward nodded. “I’m glad to hear he’s awake.”

“You should go talk to him.” The doctor hesitated. “I don’t know how you want to handle it, but he’s… he’s asking about his mother.”

“I see.” Edward closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him. I can take it from here.”

“Take care. Please call if you need anything.”

“I will, thanks Doc.”

Once Dr. Davidson was gone, Edward grimaced and started heading toward the parlor.

Edward stepped into the room where the boy, Tommy, was sitting on the sofa. He looked so small sitting there. There was a tear in his shirt from where it had ripped in the fall, and his shaggy brown hair fell into his face. He chewed on his lip without looking at Edward.

“Where are my parents?” he asked, and Edward’s chest ached.

“That’s part of what I’m here to talk to you about. Can I come sit by you?”

He gave a jerky nod.

Edward thanked him, coming to sit beside him. “Do you remember what happened before you woke up here?”

“I was in the carriage with my mother and father, on our way to see some relatives and then,” he trailed off. Edward frowned. If the boy kept gnawing on his lip like that, he was worried he would bite right through it.

“It’s alright if you don’t remember. Don’t feel like you need to push yourself.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “There was an accident. I’m sorry, but your parents didn’t make it.”

“What?” he gasped, eyes filling with tears. “What do you mean they didn’t make it?”

“I’m so sorry, Tommy, but they passed away in the accident.”

Tears filled Tommy’s eyes before he leapt forward, wrapped his arms around Edward and sobbed. Edward couldn’t do anything but wrap his arms around him too and let him let it all out.

He knew, at that moment, he would do whatever it took to make sure the boy lived a good life. He would take every step necessary to find his family and make sure he was well taken care of.

 

Chapter Two

Clara stood in her bedroom, taking more time and care to dress than she usually would. It was the second Tuesday of the month. That meant she had to go visit her uncle. Anything she could do to make it take a little longer to get there would be worth it.

It wasn’t that Maxwell was a bad man or that he was rude, but they had never been close. After Clara’s parents passed away recently, that distance only seemed to grow.

There only seemed to be one thing he wanted to talk about, how soon she would be getting married. If she thought finally getting engaged would get him to drop the issue, she should have known better. Now all he wanted to talk about was how soon her wedding would be and what she planned on doing with her family’s home after the wedding.

It was all too much sometimes. It seemed like there was no good answer to satisfy him. All she wanted was to savor the time she had left in her family home before she would be expected to move in with her new husband.

Turning back to the mirror, she smoothed out the black skirt of her simple day dress and pinned her hat to her auburn hair with a plain silver hair pin. She stopped for a moment, running her fingers over the simple piece of jewelry. It was her mother’s favorite. She wore it almost every day. 

It had been long enough since her parents passed away that she didn’t need to dress in full mourning, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. When she looked at the brightly colored dresses she used to wear, the very thought of putting them on her skin just felt so wrong.

That was a huge part of why Clara didn’t go out as much anymore. She’d become something of a recluse, turning down the few invitations she still received. No one even bothered coming by to try and call on her anymore. Not that she could blame them. Clara was hardly good company. Everyone told her she was far too glum and serious.

She looked at her old dresses with a strange detachment. They were the clothes of a happy young woman with the world at her fingertips. Someone who was loved and cared for. Clara was under no delusion. She was alone now. Love was more than she could hope for. It would be far better for her to focus on building a life where she would be secure.

Her parents had married for love, they had worked so hard to build a warm and caring home for Clara and her sister but look how it ended. Her father started drinking more and more until the bottle took his life. Clara couldn’t do anything but watch as the loss crushed her mother.

Day by day, her grief consumed her until she passed on… to join the husband she loved so much she would even abandon her own daughter. The very thought still filled her with pain. Though she would never admit it, part of Clara was upset her mother would do that to her, that she was so eager to leave her behind like this.

Clara knew better than to make the same mistake as her parents. Love was a luxury that she couldn’t afford, all she could hope for was a comfortable life. If she was destined to be alone, if everyone was going to leave her in the end no matter what, then she would be alone on her terms.

When there was nothing else she could do to put it off, Clara slipped out of the Chicago house she had called home her whole life. It wasn’t a far walk to get to her Uncle Maxwell’s house in the wealthy part of town. She knocked on the door and the butler let her in.

Her uncle was sitting in his parlor when she came in. It was a large open space in his main parlor. Thick green velvet curtains were drawn back from the window with dark brown ties offering a view of the uptown neighborhood he called home.

Matching furnishings peppered the room, most concentrated around a large fireplace on the far wall. Her uncle was sitting in one of the chairs, a thick book in his hands. There was a small pair of spectacles perched on his round nose. His silver hair parted to let his pale scalp poke through.

When she stepped into the room, he looked up catching her with his dark eyes that reminded her so much of her mother.

“There you finally are,” he said. His stern voice made any similarity to her mother vanish. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

“It isn’t even a quarter past eleven,” she frowned, glancing at his clock.

“That isn’t the point. Why didn’t you get here sooner? I told you I have a few things I needed to talk to you about today.”

She sighed, taking her seat on the small love seat across from him. She narrowly resisted the urge to pick at the fabric of the upholstery. “I didn’t mean to run late, but you never told me there was a time you wanted me here, only that you wanted to see me.”

“But you always come at ten thirty when you come. I assumed you would be here at your usual time.”

“I was running late.”

“Of course you were,” he sighed. “Very well, that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about today.”

Clara stiffened in her seat. So, this wasn’t one of her usual social visits. She had suspected as much. “What is it?”

“I was hoping to have more time to talk to you about it first, but I’m sure Mr. Darnley will be here soon. I heard about your engagement, so I invited both of you here to ask a few questions.”

She chuckled. “What questions could you have for Henry? The only reason we ended up courting was because you introduced us.”

“Still, it’s a big change to go from courting to getting married. I—” He was cut off by the sound of someone else approaching. “That must be him now.”

Henry stepped into the room and Clara forced herself to smile. There he was. The man she was to marry. Henry was a tall man with broad shoulders that cut an imposing figure. Clara met his large, dark eyes that shined with intelligence. He gave a formal smile, running a hand through his dark hair that matched the well-kept beard on his face before he came to sit on the love seat beside her. Clara resisted the urge to shrink into herself so their shoulders wouldn’t brush.

“Clara, it’s good to see you again. How has your morning been,” he said, his voice close to her ear.

Her eyes flickered to her uncle, but he was just looking at them with the same hard to read expression he always seemed to have. 

“My morning has been fine. What about yours?” she asked.

They exchanged some general pleasantries, and she found herself beginning to relax. Henry wasn’t the most interesting man, but that was alright. He was pleasant and Clara knew she would be well taken care of. She would have time to grow to care for him when they began building their life together.

“It’s good to get a chance to see the two of you together,” Maxwell nodded. “I feel like I never get a chance to see it.”

“You know how busy things at the bank can make me,” Henry said. “But I spend time with Clara as often as I can.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if that was true, but that was alright. There would be time for that later. There would be time for everything later. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when her uncle spoke. “Have the two of you decided where you’re going to live after the wedding?”

“We’re going to live at my home of course,” Henry spoke before Clara could say a word.

Her uncle sighed. “I had expected you would say that. We must discuss what will become of my sister’s home.”

“I don’t see what there is to discuss. It will be sold off to the highest bidder.”

Clara opened her mouth to speak. She didn’t want it to be sold off like it was nothing. It was the home her parents put so much time and effort into. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? Before she could give voice to her concerns and misgivings, Maxwell shook his head.

“You can’t mean to simply sell it off to the highest bidder?”

“Why ever not? It is simply a house. I see no harm in it.”

“That house has far too much sentimental value. No, if you must sell it, then you should sell it to me. I’m sure we can agree on a fair price.”

Clara felt relief wash over her. She wasn’t expecting Uncle Maxwell to be so sentimental. “I didn’t know the house meant so much to you,” she said.

“What do you even want it for?” Henry frowned.

“What does it matter what I want it for?” Her uncle insisted. “All that should matter is that I have the funds to pay market rate for it.”

“If it matters to you then of course you are welcome to buy it,” Henry gave the same smile Clara had seen him give prospective clients in the past.

Clara’s chest ached at the way they both talked past her, like she wasn’t in the room. She wondered why they even bothered inviting her to this conversation. It wasn’t like her thoughts were being taken into account.

“I should hope so.” Uncle Maxwell’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “As soon as it starts getting closer to the wedding then I’ll get the papers drawn up for the purchase.”

“Very good. I’ll arrange for someone to go by and assess the house for you so we can agree on a price.”

No one asked Clara what she thought. If she wanted to sell it to him or what she thought a fair price was. And why would they? The men were talking and all she could do was listen.

From there the conversation returned to more mundane topics for a little while. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, Uncle Maxwell started to look bored and impatient. It wasn’t long after that before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

“It’s been good seeing you both, but I think I need to get some rest. I’ll see you next month, Clara.”

“I’ll see you then,” she said.

Henry got to his feet and shook Maxwell’s hand. When he did, the two leaned in close, talking in hushed voices. Clara strained her ears, trying to pick up bits of their conversation without being too obvious. She couldn’t make out much of the words, but it sounded like they were talking about the purchase of the house.

Once again left on the sidelines, she couldn’t help but frown. The house had been left to her in her parent’s will. True, once they were married, it would be Henry managing things, but she had thought she would get to be involved in deciding what would happen to it.

Finally, the two men parted ways, and Henry began leading her outside.

“Let me walk you home,” Henry said once they were standing outside on the street corner. It was a warm day, the kind that made her glad she had chosen to walk rather than take a carriage.

 She turned back to him with a smile, shaking her head. “Oh, you don’t need to go to go to all that trouble. I was going to do a little bit of shopping first. Besides, I’m sure you have to get back to work.”

“I insist,” he offered his arm.

She gave him a tight smile and accepted. She would have to go do her errands later.

Neither of them said much as they walked. It wasn’t the silence that came from two people being used to one another’s presence, rather it was the kind that came when neither of them knew what words to fill the air with.

When Clara’s house came into view, he let out a sigh. “I hate to think of you all alone in a place like this. It must get so lonely.”

She just smiled. “It can be, but I’ve lived here all my life. It’s nice to be surrounded by their memories in this way.”

“The place is like a museum. It’s been over a year since your father passed and close to six months for your mother, but you haven’t changed a single thing about the place. I wish you would agree to move the wedding up. I don’t like you living on your own like this.”

“I’m fine on my own, really. Besides, we already sent out the invitations. It’s too late to change it now.”

“Hardly. All it would take is sending out another letter or two. Just let me take care of it.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but I think I need the time. Good day, Henry.” She squeezed his hand then slipped inside.

Once the door was shut behind her, she leaned against it with a sigh. The wedding. It wasn’t the first time he had asked about the possibility of bringing it forward. Clara hated the way the very thought of the upcoming ceremony left her with a heavy feeling in her chest.

This is the right decision, she reminded herself. Henry is a good man. He’s financially secure. Her uncle likes him. He’s kind enough. There’s no good reason not to be happy.

“So why aren’t I happy?” she whispered to herself alone in the empty house.

She shook her head. There was no time to think about it. There was far too much to prepare. With her mouth set in a grim line, she went into the parlor to get back to work on her wedding dress.

She sat in the chair that had once belonged to her mother and picked up the mass of fabric. Henry had told her she didn’t need to make a dress, that he would give her money to buy whatever she would like, but Clara had insisted she would rather make it. She had her mother’s wedding dress from all those years ago.

At first, he was against it. He said the dress was outdated and she should just wear something new. He only relented when she promised that she would ensure it looked modern and fashionable.

But if Clara was honest, she wanted to wear the dress as it was. Still, wearing an altered version of her mother’s dress was far better than having nothing at all from her to wear so she would make do.

She could only hope her mother wouldn’t hate what she did to it. The idea that she would turn the beautiful dress into something her mother hated is part of why this was taking her so long. If Clara could just work on the project until it was done, she would have finished it months ago, but every time she started on something, she found herself freezing up.

She knew she needed to accept the changes she was making to the gown and just be done with it, but it just felt so wrong. If Clara was completely honest, she was hoping that if she just took long enough, Henry would give in and let her wear the dress as it is. She knew it wasn’t likely, but she just couldn’t help herself.

She’d always imagined wearing the dress, just as it was, and that made changing it hard and stressful. At least he was willing to let her wear it in general, though she wasn’t entirely sure why he cared to begin with.