A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron Heart Read online

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Melynda Carlyle

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  Table Of Contents

  Copyright

  Get Melynda’s Exclusive Material

  Table Of Contents

  A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron Heart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  The Extended Epilogue

  A Thank You Note to Starfall Publications

  About Melynda Carlyle

  A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron Heart

  Chapter 1

  Melanie had suddenly taken ill and decided to head home to rest. At least, that was the excuse she had given to her friends when they’d stopped her as she’d hastily made her way toward the door of the regal mansion. It was another dull affair her aunt had forced her to attend, the older woman doing everything in her power to find Melanie a suitor. She didn’t understand her aunt’s insistence on the matter, and it was insulting that her aunt thought she knew better than Melanie on what was best for the young woman.

  The loss of her father a few years back was still very much an open wound. Days would go by where the clouds of sadness would seemingly begin to disperse, only for something to remind her of her father and bring them rolling right back in. When her mother had died, her father had single-handedly taken on the duties of raising her. Even with him being the busy head sheriff of the town where she had grown up in Kansas, he had always made time for her and ensured that she had everything she needed to succeed.

  His means of doting on her all her life should have made her spoiled, but her father had been certain to instill discipline as well. As the daughter of the town sheriff, she had been intimately familiar with the laws that her father upheld, and it also kept her somewhat grounded because her actions could negatively affect her father’s station were she to act out. Still, that didn’t mean that her father hadn’t allowed her plenty of freedom, and as an only child, she had enjoyed far more liberties than most women she knew. In some ways, she had been able to become the son her father had never been able to have.

  She had not only been taught how to read and write, but she did those things at a near collegiate level thanks to her father’s scholarly interests. Despite his slightly unkempt appearance and mildly dopey expression, her father had been an extensively educated man, and he had been certain to ensure that his daughter was equally educated. He taught her how to ride horses and how to hunt, along with many other life skills that he assured her would serve her well in the future.

  She had been in the sitting room with her mother, barely older than the age of seven, when her father had burst through the front door of the small one bedroom home the three of them shared. There was a triumphant gleam in his eye, and his right hand was waving around wildly. “It’s happened, my lovelies! I told you that your old Pop would take care of us!”

  His hair was a deep mahogany brown, a perfect match to the warm pools that were his eyes. He wore a plain brown pantsuit that had more than a few stains from its use. However, he never seemed to mind. He said that wearing it kept him humble, though she didn’t understand his reasoning.

  “What is it, Papito? What has made you so cheerful?” Isabella, Melanie’s mother, asked as she rose from her chair.

  “We’ve finally done it. I won a large sum of money from a man in the tavern in a bet! Our troubles are over! I’ll pay for us to get a bigger house, and I’ll finally be able to buy you all of those beautiful dresses you’ve always told me about. This is our big break!” Manny Thompson was beaming as he scooped up Melanie. “And for you, my dear, all of the books your little heart could desire.”

  Melanie’s eyes widened, her heart leaping in joy. “Do you mean it, Papa?”

  “Absolutely! Daddy is going to make sure that you are a well-rounded and wise individual by the time you are a grown lady. That way, when there comes a day when Papa and Mama aren’t around, you will be able to take care of yourself.”

  “But that won’t be for a long time, right Papa?” Melanie asked, eyes filling with tears at the thought of having to be without her loving Mama and Papa.

  “Not for a very long time, Melanie. Not ‘til you are much older,” her father promised, slipping his pinkie finger around hers. “I promise.”

  True to his word, her father had not passed away until shortly before her eighteenth birthday. Since she had no other family in the area, she had been left in the hands of her father’s sister. Aunt Victoria had housed and fed Melanie, asking very little of her in return, aside from occasionally attending some parties to help keep up appearances. After all, it wouldn’t be good to have rumors start spreading around town about a reclusive shut-in living with Victoria Thompson.

  Melanie held a two-week-old newspaper in her hand, her eyes idly scanning over the article that inspired her trip. Schoolteacher wanted for immediate hire in New Mexico. Small stipend granted each month to assist in living expenses. More can be discussed in your response or upon meeting.

  Melanie didn’t have any experience teaching, but she’d had more than her fair share of tutors throughout her young life. She reasoned that being a tutor couldn’t be all that different from being a teacher, so she would just utilize the tricks she had picked up from her own instructors and apply them to her new job. As a fairly educated young woman, she saw no reason as to why she would fail.

  She felt the carriage come to a slow halt, which seemed curious as the driver had told her earlier that it was at least another few hours to their destination, the bustling city of Santa Fe. Perhaps more time had passed than she’d previously thought.

  “What is going on out there?” she called out the open window, huffing slightly with impatience. “Have we arrived already?”

  “Shepherd with a flock of sheep, Missus. I have to pause while they make their way across the road. It will be only about another five minutes or so. Kindly be patient for me,” the driver replied calmly, the older African American’s voice steady and slow. “I promised to take good care of you and take you to your destination, and that is
exactly what I plan to do.”

  Settling back in her seat and letting out a soft sigh, Melanie could do nothing but lie across the spacious cushioned seat of the carriage and do her best to rest for a bit. As she began to doze off, she thought back on why she had decided to uproot herself from the only place she’d ever lived and undertake this month-and-a-half-long journey to her new life.

  She was attending the party of one Jezebel Murphy, a well-known socialite and longtime friend of Melanie’s aunt, Victoria. Melanie felt uneasy about accepting the invitation, especially given who her date was. She’d been convinced to come with Edward Brighton, the man her aunt had been suspiciously eager for Melanie to spend extra time with for the last few months. There was nothing really wrong with him at first glance. He was reasonably handsome and wealthy enough to guarantee a comfortable living. He was a fantastic choice of suitor and would be considered a catch by many women. But Melanie was not hurting for money, and wealth alone was no reason to marry.

  As she made her way down the hall toward the privy, she heard the sound of a light giggle coming from further down the hall. It seemed some merry partygoers had decided to sneak away to have a bit of fun in private. Normally, Melanie wouldn’t pay it any attention and simply continue on her way, but there was something familiar about the male voice she heard speak softly in reply. Edward had excused himself earlier, and it seemed she had just discovered why.

  Right before she darted into a nearby empty room, she caught sight of Edward standing with a woman Melanie didn’t recognize. It was obvious that the two knew one another, especially given how close they stood. She knew it was Edward because his family insignia was etched on the back of his suit. The crest of the black raven on his back was impossible to confuse with any other family’s marking.

  Indignation rose within Melanie, an angry blush beginning to burn her cheeks. He and her aunt had just spent the last week pestering her into coming to this incredibly stuffy party, and the first chance he got to slip away from her, he was getting familiar with another woman. Why even invite her if he could have just come with the other woman and save her the trouble?

  “I don’t understand why you had to come with that Thompson girl. She’s been such a stick in the mud. She just stands there sulking while looking like she would rather be anywhere else,” the woman complained, causing Melanie’s cheeks to turn pink with shame.

  “You bite your tongue,” Edward barked, the sound cracking through the air like a whip. “That woman is a white rose in the desert. With her family’s money and mine, I could retire early and be left to my favored pursuits. Are you telling me you don’t want to be one of those pursuits when that time comes?”

  His voice was like the whisperings of the devil, and Melanie inhaled sharply. If Edward was so keen on this other woman, then she could continue to accompany him. Ducking quickly out of the room and treading as silently as she could, she made her way back toward the front door. Her friends had greeted her cheerfully, though Melanie only gave a hurried excuse of feeling ill before she exited. She needed time to process what she had just managed to overhear. Thankfully, the warm spring weather was pleasant that night, and Melanie spent her entire walk home with what Edward had said spinning in her mind.

  Melanie woke with a start when the carriage suddenly lurched forward, peeking her head out the window and glancing around. The silence of the coachmen in front was odd to her since they had kept up a relatively consistent conversation most days. It was enough to cause her to worry.

  She caught a brief glimpse of a sign that said Santa Fe in the distance. It was a rather simple sign that was slightly weathered from the constant sand blowing through, but the letters could still be read. It served as a reminder to Melanie that she was truly going along with her plan. She had successfully escaped from Edward, and for the first time in her life, she was on her own. She couldn’t contain her excitement.

  Chapter 2

  The early morning was not the preferred time of awakening for Peter Matherson. Most would describe the young sheriff as a hard-edged man, and his sharp tongue and firm will were legendary around the town of Santa Fe. Paired with his typically uncombed hair and his stone-gray eyes that seemed to pierce a person’s very soul, he was a recipe for catching people’s attention. Gray wasn’t a typical eye color, and he’d heard his fair share of whispers about it in public.

  His rough demeanor was one of many souvenirs he carried from his ex-outlaw days. Back when he was young and didn’t know any better, he had gotten into trouble running with a group of young men who quickly gained a reputation for being notorious criminals. They’d started with small crimes like picking pockets and occasionally robbing stagecoaches. However, as time had gone on, the scale and severity of their crimes began to grow.

  His gang had spent months trying to plan out a bank robbery, and they all would have gotten away had one of his fellow members not been forced to betray them to the police. The memory was still somewhat bitter in his mind, and he’d promised himself that he would kill the man that had sold them out should they ever cross paths again.

  The former sheriff, Michael, had taken on a nearly impossible task when he decided to take Peter under his wing. Peter had been just as surprised as everyone else when Michael had named him the new sheriff. His distrust of the law hadn’t abated that much in the time they’d been together.

  The old lawman was unnaturally patient with Peter, taking the time to show him the ins and outs of keeping the peace. He’d learned how to lasso a target in motion and was given improved tips for sharpshooting with both the pistol and the rifle. Michael wasn’t exactly fully on the straight and narrow either, and there had been more than a few occasions when his reactions to a problem hadn’t exactly been orthodox.

  Even if Peter had a thousand lifetimes, he didn’t think he would ever be able to repay the kindness he had received from that man. He was the only reason why Peter hadn’t gotten strung from the tallest tree with a noose around his neck. He’d helped the residents of Santa Fe overcome their fear of the ex-outlaw and made him feel like one of them.

  But he’d changed when he saw the old man lying unmoving in the black casket the town had chipped in to buy for him.

  Peter shook his head adamantly as if trying to shake the very thoughts from his mind. He’d been no stranger to life and death situations during his run as an outlaw, but that didn’t mean that he was eager to find himself in more of those kinds of scrapes. Better to have some sense of safety and peace of mind rather than spending every waking moment on high alert. Besides, waking up to the sight of a man trying to draw a gun on him was what Peter used to consider exciting. It had made him feel alive and strong, but he’d gained wisdom since then. That was the kind of excitement one can only take in small doses.

  Still, a chance to show your mettle to the people every now and then wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was a good way to remind the townspeople and criminals alike that he had no trouble upholding the law. Violence was not the only way for a man to settle his problems, however. Sometimes, good ‘ol diplomacy would prevail when intimidation and aggression failed.

  “Sheriff! Sheriff! We have a situation!” a voice hollered from outside of the jail. Peter let out a sigh of irritation as he slowly set down the freshly brewed cup of coffee. He had just enough time to turn away from the fireplace to watch someone barge through the door of the jail.

  His deputy sheriff, a young man in his early thirties by the name of Chris, leaped to his feet at the sudden entrance. He’d always been a bit of a nervous youth, and Peter had spent long hours instilling in him the importance of not allowing sudden noises to take him by surprise. The young deputy ignored all that advice in that instant, tumbling backward out of his chair and dropping his coffee cup to the ground. The shattering of china a moment later was just another reason for Peter to close his eyes in frustration.

  Standing in the doorway now was a young African American boy, no older than fifteen, dressed in a rather
respectable-looking, but dusty, black suit. He looked frantic, his hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke. “Sheriff, I need your help very badly.”

  “What seems to be the problem, stranger?” Peter asked, doing his best to sound amicable as he picked up his coffee cup.

  “We’ve been robbed, sir. Right as we were coming into Santa Fe,” the young black man said, wringing his hat in his hands nervously. “My mistress is very angry about the whole thing, and she demanded that I come to retrieve you at once.”

  “So, you are a stagecoach assistant, then? That means that you guys must have had the poor luck of running into the gang of brigands that we’ve been chasing after for the last few months.” Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Still, I suppose we better get a statement either way and check on your mistress.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Chris said, having finally managed to disentangle himself from his chair and return to his feet. Peter silently watched as Chris went about collecting the pile of bounty posters they’d just gotten in the mail that he’d now managed to scatter on the floor. “Wouldn’t want you to be given too much of an earful without some backup handy.”

  “Thank you for your kind concern,” Peter replied sarcastically, taking another sip of his coffee before setting it down on his desk. He gave it one last look of longing before pulling a hunk of beef jerky from his pocket instead.