Praise for Jillian Hart’s previous work, Last Chance Bride “You have to marry her.” Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Copyright

Praise for Jillian Hart’s previous work, Last Chance Bride

“The warm and gentle humanity of Last Chance Bride is a welcome dose of sunshine after a long winter.”

—Romantic times Magazine

“The main characters are special in so many ways due to their courage, their strength and their ways of fighting for what they beheve in.... In will touc you deeply.”

—Rendezvous

“You have to marry her.”

Cooper couldn’t imagine why his daughter had gotten all worked up over being without a stepmother. Her mother had been gone a long time, nearly half Katie’s life. They’d adjusted, moved on, tried to make a family with just the three of them.

“Why?”

“Because I wrote a letter and asked Mrs. Bauer to come here.”

Cooper deposited Katie on the floor and bolted from the chair. “Let me get this straight. You wrote a letter to a perfect stranger and asked her to come here?”

“To marry us.”

“How did you find Mrs. Bauer in the first place?”

“I bought a newspaper advertisement.”

“You placed a request for a mother in a newspaper?”

Katie’s eyes still brimmed with tears. “No. I pretended to be you....”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Harlequin Historicals—stories that will capture your heart with unforgettable characters and the timeless fantasy of falling in love!

Jillian Hart, who made her publishing debut in our 1998 March Madness Promotion with her enormously popular Last Chance Bride, returns this month with another heartwarming Western, Cooper’s Wife. The local sheriff saves a widow and her little girl when their stagecoach is robbed and learns that the woman is a mail-order bride for him—thanks to his meddling daughter. He responsibly proposes a marriage of convenience, and unexpectedly finds a lasting love.

In The Dreammaker by Judith Stacy, also a Western, two people who are swindled by the same man go into business together to recoup their losses and realize their dreams—when love, the dream of a lifetime, is right in front of them! Award-winning author Gayle Wilson returns with Lady Sarah’s Son, an emotional Regency-style tale of sweethearts, torn apart by tragedy, who come together again in a marriage of convenience and can no longer deny their enduring love.... And don’t miss The Hidden Heart, a terrific medieval novel by Sharon Schulze. Here, a beautiful noblewoman must guard her heart from the only, man she has ever loved—the Earl of Wynfield, who has returned to her keep on a dangerous secret mission.

Enjoy! And come back again next month for four more choices of the best in historical romance.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell, Senior Editor

P.S. We’d love to hear what you think about Harlequin Historicals! Drop us a line at:

Harlequin Histoncals

300 E. 42nd Street, 6th Floor

New York, NY 10017

Cooper’s Wife

Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JILLIAN HART grew up in rural Washington State, where she learned how to climb trees, build tree houses and ride ponies. A perfect childhood for a historical romance author. She left home and went to college and has lived in cities ever since. But the warm memories from her childhood still linger in her heart, memories she incorporates into her stories. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next novel, she enjoys reading, flower gardening, hiking with her husband and trying to train her wiggly cocker spaniel puppy to sit. And failing.

To Henry, my husband and best friend, who is all of my heart

Prologue

Montana 1864

“Candy, Mama?”

“In a minute, pumpkin.” The bank was busy and the line behind her long, but Anna Bauer smoothed the gold curls from her tiny daughter’s forehead.

“One hundred twenty-five dollars and thirty-seven cents.” The clerk counted out Anna’s life savings with crisp flicks of twenty-dollar bills.

So much money. Anna’s heart flickered as she counted to make sure of the amount. She would need nearly all of it to buy stage passages across the Ruby Range and up into the rugged Montana Rockies. What kind of man awaited her there? What kind of life?

“We’ll be sorry to see you go.” Kind and genuine, Tom Brickman had always treated her with respect, despite her illegitimate daughter. “I’ve heard you are to be married.”

“Yes, I am.” Anna’s stomach quivered with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

“Then I wish you and your daughter a safe journey and a happy future.” Tom pushed the last of the coins across the counter.

A door opened; she felt the breeze sweep through the bank. A murmur rose through those standing in line behind her. Anna folded the six twenty-dollar bills in half, then in half again. She saw Tom’s smile fade and fear shadow his eyes.

Bootsteps knelled in the silence. “Hands up where I can see them. Now.”

So dangerous and lethal, that voice. Prickles skidded down her spine. Anna tucked the folded twenties into the top of her glove. Her sleeve fell forward to hide the money from sight.

“Mama.” Mandy’s whisper came quietly, and the girl held tight to Anna’s skirts.

“Just stay with me, pumpkin.” Anna tucked her little girl behind her. Those footsteps knelled closer, ringing in the tensed silence. She could see one of the robbers. He held two gleaming revolvers, one in each unflinching hand. A hat was pulled low over his forehead and a handkerchief masked most of his face from view.

Anna swallowed, fighting fear. Sometimes innocent people waiting in line were killed in bank robberies. She heard Tom’s quick intakes of breath, saw the tensed line of his jaw. He was afraid, too. The second outlaw stepped out of sight, gun on the bank owner. The vault was in the next room and the two men disappeared.

“I’ll just take that from you.” Deep, that voice. Somehow familiar. He dropped a canvas sack on the counter. “Put your money in there, little lady.”

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t want to anger him. She thought of her daughter with her little fists wrapped in her skirts. Anna’s fingers felt wooden and clumsy, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to drop the remaining $5.37 into the empty canvas bag.

“That’s right.” The robber’s guns gleamed in the lamplight as he waved them at Tom. “Fill the sack, boy. Do it and I’ll let you live.”

Anna took a tiny step back. She felt Mandy’s tight hold on her skirts, felt the child pressing hard against the backs of her knees. She needed to get her daughter as far away from that gun as she could.

“Not so fast.” Almost laughing, that voice.

She studied the broad brim of the sweat-stained hat, the dust marks on the bandanna, the fine cloth of the robber’s shirt and trousers. Blue eyes met hers.

For one brief moment she thought she was looking into the eyes of a man she’d almost married. It hadn’t worked out between them. Could never work out. He wasn’t fond of children, and she wanted a large family. She wanted to give Mandy brothers and sisters to play with.

“I want the reticule, too.”

Oh, her nicest one. Anna’s heart sank. She unwound the string handle from her left wrist. Nothing of value was inside, just a small comb, a few hairpins and Mandy’s favorite hair ribbon. Not much to lose, considering.

Tom reached into his drawer and piled crisp bills on the counter. Anna dropped her reticule into the robber’s sack. Mandy stumbled, clutching Anna’s skirts. She laid a hand to steady the child. She did not like that this armed outlaw was only a few inches away from her daughter.

He watched her, watched all of them. She heard the tick of the clock on the wall, the rattle of old Mr. Fletcher’s watch chain as he stood in line, the squeak of the outlaw’s left boot when he shifted his weight.

“Hurry up,” he threatened Tom, waving his guns. He moved and again his boot squeaked.

Anna felt a prickle along the back of her neck, felt the cold knowledge low in her stomach. She cast her gaze downward and saw the shiny leather boots, brown and highly polished, scuffed along the left toe where he’d caught it on her sister’s loose porch step.

The man behind the mask, the man with the guns and the familiar blue eyes and voice was none other than Dalton Jennings. Her breath caught. She had to be wrong. Dalton was the shenff, a leader of the town.

A clatter of metal against the counter broke through her thoughts. The robber—no, Dalton Jennings—snatched up the half-full sack. He held it out, walking down the aisle, accepting watches, wallets and reticules, scaring one old widow woman out of her ruby wedding ring.

Anna had never felt so afraid. It was Dalton. She recognized his walk, a slight limp in his left leg from a once badly injured knee.

“Count to one hundred before anyone steps outside.” The second robber joined him, two huge money bags in hand. Together they pushed out the door. “I have an armed man hidden across the street to make sure you all know how to count.”

Anna tried to think what to do. Then the robber’s gaze latched on to hers. Her heart fell. Sweat broke out beneath the brim of her bonnet. Recognition thudded in the air, heavy like thunder. Dalton Jennings’ eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp on hers. A sensation passed between them.

Did he know that she recognized him? Fear tasted coppery in her mouth. Like a deer caught in a rifle’s sight, she waited.

Then Jennings strode away with his money. The door snapped closed. The bank owner and Tom rushed around making sure their patrons were safe. Mandy cried and Anna held her, debating what to do. No doubt the town sheriff would show up soon, dressed in his black trousers and black vest, sporting his tin badge, wearing those boots with the scuff mark on the left toe.

How could she face Dalton when he returned as the sheriff? Anna rocked Mandy, cradled the girl tight in her arms. Thank heavens she still had her money, tucked out of sight against her wrist.

The men robbing banks and stagecoaches in the Ruby Range area had killed before. People who could identify them, be they men, women or children. What would Dalton do to her when he returned?

She would go home and think of what to do.

Chapter One

“Bumpy, Mama.”

“I know, pumpkin.” Anna ached at the sight of exhaustion pinching Mandy’s button face, bruising the skin beneath her big blue eyes. “The stagecoach driver said we’ll be in Flint Creek before suppertime.”

The three-year-old sighed. Suppertime was so far away. Knowing just how she felt, Anna took the child on her lap and hugged her tight until she smiled.

Anna hadn’t dared to relax since their desperate flight from home. Was Dalton already on her trail?

But with each passing mile, Anna breathed easier. This was the third day of travel and no sign of trouble. Did she dare to hope that Jennings wasn’t following? Maybe, just maybe, she and Mandy were safe after all.

But despite her hopes, the worry tight in her stomach didn’t ease. Dalton wasn’t a man to forget.

“Too tight, Mama,” Mandy complained.

Anna loosened her hold on the child. What would happen to the little girl should Jennings find them?

The first sound of trouble came as a gunshot from outside the stage. The second was the scream of a horse. Was it Dalton? Fear pumped through her veins. The stage rocked fiercely to the right side, then limped to a stop.

What should she do? How could she protect Mandy? She glanced at the other travelers seated beside her and across the aisle. Would they help her? The banker who boarded the stage at Dillon mopped sweat from his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. He didn’t look armed. But the ruffian seated beside him, who smelled of stale cigarette smoke and whiskey, hauled out a highly polished revolver.

“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” he said through gritted teeth. “I won’t let those no-good bandits do you harm.”

“Thank you, sir.” The gun looked deadly. Thank heavens he was on her side.

The stage door burst open. Anna choked, unable to scream. A masked man fired a gun. The passenger fired, then slumped over. Burly arms tossed the brave man and his gun on the dusty road.

They’d killed him. Shock washed through her. Anna couldn’t breathe. What was to become of them? She heard voices outside the stalled stage. They were laughing.

Laughing. How dare they? No one had the right to take joy in an innocent man’s death. Hot rage tore through her midsection. She’d seen just about enough of men’s violent ways.

“Get out,” a gruff voice ordered from the doorway.

Anna swung her reticule. It smacked the aimed revolver from the outlaw’s hand to the floor at her feet. “Stop this killing right now.”

Shock rounded his eyes. “Lady—”

“I said, enough.” She pushed at the scruffy brute’s chest. No one should be hurt because Dalton wanted her. “Where is he?”

A brutish laugh. “What kind of woman do we have here? I like a lady with some fight.”

Why was he laughing? Anna took one look at the cold glitter in the outlaw’s eyes, and her courage wavered.

Three other robbers stood on the road behind him, armed and mean-looking. They weren’t Jennings’ men. And now she’d made them angry. What would they do?

“This is the first thing I intend to take from you.” Cruel blue eyes laughed at her over the edge of a dirty red bandanna.

She gasped as the masked man tore the cloth bag from her wrist. A snap of pain bit her skin. Her money! This time it wasn’t tucked away in her sleeve. What was left of her life’s saving was dug out of the now ragged reticule.

A twisted gleam sparked in the villain’s eyes. “I’ll be back for more from you.”

He gave her a shove. Anna’s knees buckled and she lost her balance. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the coach. She hit the ground hard, tasting dust. Already the outlaw was reaching into the coach, sunlight glinting off the nose of his revolver. Mandy was in there, defenseless.

“No!” Anna launched forward, stumbled, then found her feet. She grabbed at the outlaw, pulling at his shirt. “Leave her alone. She’s my child. She—”

A gunshot split the air. Then another. She felt a fiery pain. Blood fell across her sleeve. Was she shot?

“Come here, little girl,” the blue-eyed outlaw cooed. “I won’t hurt ya.”

“No!” Anna hit him hard with her shoulder, trying to knock him aside. “Don’t you touch her.”

The outlaw spun from the coach and raised his hand. She saw the blow coming. He struck her face hard enough to make her ears ring. The pain seemed distant. It was nothing compared to her fear for Mandy. She dropped to her knees. Dizziness spun through her head. Tears stung her eyes as she pulled herself to her feet. She would stop that villain. She would protect her child.

Then voices filled the air. She looked up, confused. She heard shouts of “It’s the law!” and “Jed, where’s my mare?” and “the gold, it’s getting away!” and then “Run!” Gunfire popped as she jumped to her feet. Already the outlaw had run from the stage, leaving Mandy untouched inside.

“Looks like the law’s here.” The banker climbed out, his voice low, sweat beading on his forehead. “She’s scared but all right. You’d better take cover, ma’am.”

“After I get my daughter.” She had to shout over the gunfire. “Don’t wait for us. Those rocks over there should shelter you.”

Horses thundered past. Guns fired so close, it hurt her ears. A stray bullet lodged into the side of the coach. She had to hurry. She reached through the doorway. “Come, grab my hand.”

She saw a peaked face, eyes wide with fright. Mandy crawled off the seat. “That’s right.” Anna leaned forward and caught the child’s hand.

Then the stage rocked hard. Small fingers clutched hers and held tight, then were wrenched from her grip. The stage shot forward. The frame slammed into her jaw and cheek, then her shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

“Mandy!” She held the child’s glove in her hand. Cold horror washed over her as the driverless stage rattled up the road. In a flash she saw the danger, all that could happen. She leaped to her feet, already running hard. “Mandy. Jump!”

Gunfire, bullets and mounted riders swirled around her. She kept running. She had to get to Mandy before something happened. Before the stage crashed or tumbled over the narrow edge of the trail and down the mountain.

Air wheezed out of her lungs. Pain slashed through her side. She was almost there. Almost gaining. Every step brought her closer to catching hold of the boot and climbing aboard. Every step brought her closer to saving her daughter. She reached out and just missed the heavy leather strap holding the luggage to the rear of the coach. She reached again.

One back wheel hit a boulder. The vehicle careened to one side and skidded sideways. She watched in horror as the front right wheel struck another boulder. The stage rolled over and landed on its top, hesitating at the edge of the road. It tottered, then tumbled forward.

“No!” Anna skidded down the embankment, flew down the edge of the mountain. Rocks cascaded beneath her feet. She slid, went down. Pain skidded up her leg when she crashed into a low scrubby pine.

Breathing hard, she broke free and kept running. All she could see was the stage, rolling end over end, falling apart each time it struck the ground. An axle broke with a crash. Two wheels flew through the air and hit the ground rolling. A door came off. The vehicle hit the earth so hard, the sound of the impact cracked like thunder across the face of the mountainside.

And Mandy was inside. Anna had to get to her. She tasted the grit of dust and dirt in her mouth, felt them in her eyes. Her feet gave out beneath her, and she skidded on loose rock and earth. Time stood still as she watched, her heartbeat frozen. The stage rolled over the edge of a cliff and out of sight.

No sound of impact, just the eerie silence of falling. No. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose her daughter, her whole heart. Anna fought for balance, but the earth beneath her feet gave way. Rocks and gravel and bits of stubby grass tumbled ahead of her. She saw the bright sheen of the sun flash in her eyes.

She scrambled, struggling for any purchase, any solid tree root or boulder that would stop her fall. She had to save Mandy. She would not let her daughter die.

“Sheriff, Corinthos is getting away.”

Cooper spun his palomino and headed toward the snowy ridge. His deputies could take care of the robbers, but he wanted Corinthos, the leader of the gang. He was sick of the killing and carnage in this part of the county. It was his job and his responsibility to end it.

The outlaw swung his gelding around and fired.

Cooper shot back. A direct hit. Corinthos’ gloved left hand covered his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers. Shock lined his dirt-smudged face as he slipped from the saddle.

Got him. Cooper felt grim satisfaction as he cocked the Colt, ready in case the outlaw drew on him again. He drove his mount closer to the fallen man. A woman’s cry of distress and then a crack of wood breaking spun him around. A woman?

Before he could contemplate that, he caught sight of the six runaway horses, still harnessed, dragging the dangerously tipping stage around the bend in the road. Cooper kicked his stallion into a gallop just as the harness broke apart. The coach tumbled over the edge.

The woman, blond hair flying, screaming as she ran, jumped feet first down the dangerous mountainside and out of sight. Crazy woman. Whatever she had in the stage wasn’t more valuable than her life. Flint Creek Mountain was a place of cliffs and sheer edges.

Gunfire drew his attention, remmded him of why he was here in the first place—to bring in Corinthos and put an end to his gang’s violence. But the sight of the desperate woman tugged at him. He was responsible for her life, too, responsible to help her if he could.

Resigned to fighting Corinthos another time, Cooper galloped after her. “Hey, lady.”

She didn’t answer. Gunfire popped behind him as he loped his mount along the road’s edge. His stomach fell at the sight of a woman tumbling down toward the edge of a cliff, a sheer drop of a hundred feet, maybe more. It was hard to tell from where he sat.

She was in trouble. There was no doubt about that. He reached for his rope, trying to judge how best to save her. Then he spotted a little pink bonnet crushed and torn, lying amid the splintered fragments from the stage. Was a child was in that stage? No wonder the woman was frantic.

Cooper drove his stallion off the road and down the mountainside. The great palomino struggled to stay afoot, crashing through the low brush and along unstable earth. Cooper stood in his stirrups, leaned back and loosened the noose with one hand. He couldn’t see the stagecoach, lost somewhere over the edge of the cliff. But he could see the woman sliding feet first to a stop. Thank God. He could catch her in time. He swung the rose, once, twice. But before he could throw, the ground broke apart beneath the woman and she fell straight down the cliff.

The earth could very well give out beneath him, too, but Cooper drove his mount harder. He tasted dust and the sharp scent of pine. He saw the danger ahead, heard the crash of the stage as it came to rest somewhere out of sight. Heard the woman’s voice shriek her child’s name with such agony, it tore at his heart.

Cooper drew his stallion to a halt. He could see the wrecked stage a good fifty feet below, hung up on an outcropping of pines, and the woman, holding tight to a root. The earth beneath them was sheer granite. So barren and hard not even weeds grew there. To fall would mean death.

“Hold on, lady.” He slung the lariat over his neck and knelt down. He caught her by the wrist, holding her tight. “Let’s get you safe.”

“But my daughter—”

He lifted the woman onto the cliff’s edge beside him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to go down and get her.”

“Her name is Mandy.” Blood streaked the woman’s torn dress, scrapes from her fall, no doubt. Panic rang in her voice. “She’s only three years old. She has to be hurt. I want to go down with you.”

He secured the rope to the closest tree, a sturdy pine. “This rope can’t hold both of our weights. I only have the one rope.”

“But she’s my little girl.”

Her blue gaze met his, and he saw her fear, felt the determination as strong as this mountain. He knew what love felt like, the all-encompassing affection for a child. He had to admire her for that.

Fine, he had a soft spot for caring mothers. “You just stay here, ma’am. I promise I’ll take real good care of your girl.”

“I think I can hear her crying. Surely that means she’s not hurt too badly, if she can cry.”

“I sure hope so.” He eased himself over the cliff, hand over hand. Sweat broke out on his forehead, on his back. He wasn’t afraid of outlaws and gun battles, but heights terrified him.

He stared hard at the craggy granite in front of him and didn’t look down. Hand over hand. Just a few more feet. He reached what was left of the stage, a smashed wooden cage missing more parts than he could count. He spotted a scrap of pink. He reached inside and brought up a small child, sputtering and bloody. She was the tiniest thing, all gold hair and pink ruffles.

Reed-thin arms wrapped about his neck. She held on with all her might. Her little body was rigid against his chest. “Don’t worry, little girl. I won’t let you fall.”

“Mama!” The little girl’s voice came weak. Her breath against his throat felt choppy and irregular. She wheezed, and he held her tighter. It was as he feared; the child was badly injured. Town and medical help was so far away.

He secured the girl to his chest, using the lariat he carried. Then he began the arduous work of climbing hand over hand up the rope. The wind gusted, knocking them against the granite wall. He turned to take the blow with his shoulder, to protect the fragile child he carried. The rope swung them out away from the rock, and he caught sight of a dizzying glimpse of brown-gray rock below. His stomach lurched. Yep, it was best not to look down.

He kept climbing hand over hand, listening to the rattle of little Mandy’s breathing. Another blast of wind knocked him against the cliff side, sent him swinging.

“Mama.” The little girl sniffled. So small, she was hardly any weight at all against his chest. Her blood stained his shirt and he felt her shiver, even in the bright sunshine. Not a good sign.

“I’m right here, Mandy.” The woman’s voice rang like bells, sweet and clear. She peered over the edge of the cliff.

It wasn’t much farther.

“Is that you, Coop?” His brother’s voice.

“Where the heck have you been?” The muscles in Cooper’s arms and back burned with fatigue. He kept climbing, but tipped his head back just enough to see the worry lining his younger brother’s face. “Don’t just stand there being useless. Help me up.”

“Useless. That’s me.” Tucker could grin even in a crisis. He curled both gloved hands around the rope and pulled.

Cooper handed the child up into her mother’s arms. Tucker helped him over the lip of the cliff.

“She’s hurt.” Sorrow rang in the woman’s voice.

The tiny girl looked blue and wasn’t breathing right. He couldn’t help but fear the worst. The woman, white-faced with fear, cradled her daughter tight in her arms. She kissed the girl’s forehead, the love for her child as unmistakable as the sun. It was a priceless emotion his wife had never managed to feel for their girls. He liked knowing some mothers did.

“Sheriff.” One of his deputies crested the bank. “Corinthos got away.”

Turning away from the mother and child, he began coiling the rope. “I shot him myself. He must have mounted and rode off.” Cooper mopped his brow with his forearm. “We’ve got wounded. We see to the girl first.”

The woman knelt beside her daughter on a bed of clover, checking her wounds. “Is there a doctor close?”

“No, ma’am.” Cooper untied his stallion. “We’re just lawmen. We feared there might be problems with the stage today. This pass is notorious for trouble.”

She took a breath. Worry crinkled the corners of eyes as deep as a summer sky. “But Mandy needs a doctor. I think she may have broken her arm, maybe her ribs. She isn’t breathing well.”

“I can see.” Cooper left the stallion standing and took a look. “Are you hurt, little lady?”

The child looked up with teary eyes and nodded. No sniffle, no whimper. Her lips were slightly bluish. Her breath came rapid and shallow.

“You’re a brave girl, too.” He knelt down on one knee, broad shoulders braced. He was all strength, but tenderness, too. “You must get that from your mama.”

Anna’s heart ached. So many cuts and bruises on the girl. She tore a strip of petticoat and covered a nasty gash on the child’s forearm. “How far away are we from a town?”

“Quite a ways.” The sheriffs low, rumbling voice sounded warm as sunshine. He pulled a clean and folded handkerchief from his shirt pocket and tore it into strips. Those big blunt-shaped hands deftly tied a neat bandage at Mandy’s wrist.

“You’re good at this, Sheriff.”

“I have little girls of my own who are always getting one scrape or another.”

Oh, that smile. As scared as she was for Mandy, Anna couldn’t help noticing the sheriffs handsome smile. And on a closer look, he had a handsome everything. From the strong straight blade of his nose—not too sharp, not too big—to the chiseled cut of his high cheekbones, to the square jaw sporting a day’s dark growth, he was quite a man.

“Owie.” Mandy bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears like a big girl.

“Let me see, pumpkin.” Anna gently pulled Mandy’s bandaged arm away from her chest. When she loosened a few buttons on the now ragged dress, she saw a horrible bruise marking her skin. But it was the sight of the left side of her little chest rising when her right side did not that terrified Anna. Something was dreadfully wrong.

“Tucker.” Calling to one of the deputies, the mighty sheriff strode away.

Would Mandy die? Fear condensed into a tight, hard ball in her stomach. Her hands trembled as she used a thin stick from the ground as a splint. She wrapped the last strips from her petticoat around Mandy’s broken arm, trying to keep hold of hope.

“I’m going to ride her into town.” Cooper squinted against the midday sun. “With the trouble she has breathing, I don’t figure we have a lot of time. My mount is the fastest.”

“I’ll go with you. Just give me a minute—”

“You’ll only slow me down.” Apology rang low in his voice.

“No, I’m not leaving her.” Anna held her daughter tight.

“You have to, ma’am. I can get her to a doctor faster than anyone can.”

“But Mandy needs me.”

“She needs medical care.”

It was as if she were on that cliff again, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop the coach from breaking apart. She could not let a stranger care for her daughter. Yet Mandy needed a doctor. Immediately. And this man could provide it.

He said he was a father. And it was true that he’d braved the chff to rescue Mandy. Judging by the breadth of those strong shoulders and the honor shining like a promise in his eyes, Anna decided she had to trust him. Mandy would die without help.

Her decision was already made, even though it was hard to let go. “This little girl is my entire life.”

“I know.” He produced a warm blanket to wrap around Mandy. “Flint Creek is the first town on the other side of this pass. The doc’s clinic is the third building on your left past the hotel. Tucker will take you there.”

Anna’s knees wobbled with the worst kind of fear. But the badge pinned to the sheriff’s vest glinted in the sunlight. When he mounted his powerful horse, he looked heroic enough to topple any foe, right any wrong.

Anna wiped the wet hair from her eyes. She prayed he would make it to town in time.

Chapter Two

“How’s the little girl?” Tucker strode through the jailhouse door, trail dust thick on his hat brim and boots, and everything else in between.

“She’s still alive. I hope the doc can keep her that way.” Cooper closed his eyes, unable to block out the remembered image of tiny Mandy so blue and struggling hard to breathe. “How’s the mother?”

Tucker swept off his hat. “She’s a widow. Imagine that. She told me so herself on the ride down here. Yep, Mrs. Bauer sure is pretty, don’t you think?”

“I don’t need anyone to play matchmaker, especially not you.” Cooper thumped his brother on the shoulder. “I take it the rest of my deputies are on their way?”

“Yep.” Tucker followed him out onto the late-day street. “It took a while to find the gold shipment. We thought it had gone over the cliff, too. The men will be bringing it to town soon and they’ll need help. I was just going to head back. Are you coming?”

“Yes. I hope we’ve seen enough trouble from the Corinthos gang for one day.” Evening scented the air. The sun was fast sinking toward the horizon. Cooper’s gaze focused on the doc’s clinic down the street. He thought of the woman and child inside. He thought about how lucky they were, how lucky all of them were.

Anna brushed back gossamer curls from her sleeping daughter’s forehead. The dim light of the room in the back of the doctor’s clinic cast just enough glow to see by. But not enough to ward off the many fears that increased as each hour passed.

“My wife made you a supper tray.” The door whispered open on its leather hinges. The faint rattling of dishes filled the quiet room, then footsteps as the doctor strode across the floor. He set the meal on a low table. “I hope you like beef stew.”

“I’m sure it’s very good.” Anna straightened in her chair, careful of her hurting arm. Her stomach grumbled, but she wasn’t in the mood to eat. Not until she knew Mandy would be all right. “Thank your wife for me.”

“You need to keep up your energy if you’re going to care for your girl. So you eat, and let me check on my littlest patient.”

His kindness touched her, made her ache deep inside. When she had explained she couldn’t pay the bill because her savings had been stolen, the doctor told her not to worry. Now he was treating Mandy with care and skill.

She watched him listen to Mandy’s breathing, saw for herself the uneven rise and fall of her chest. He’d said a punctured lung could be fatal, but there was some hope.

Hope. It was what had brought her here in the first place. A new start for Mandy, a home of her own. She worried about what kind of man Mr. Cooper Braddock would be—kind or strict, stern or forgiving. But now her big plans felt false and foolish with her daughter so injured.

Anna stood and somehow made it to the table. Her own body ached, especially her arm, but she hadn’t said anything. Would not detract the doctor’s attention from Mandy, even for herself.

Steam rose from the fragrant stew. Her stomach turned, but she knew she had to eat. At least had to try. She sat on the rickety chair, one leg shorter than the other three. It bumped against the floor when she shifted her weight. The warm scent of gravy, the hearty scent of beef tickled her nose. She lifted the spoon and filled it. But how was she going to get any food to stay in her twisted-up-with-worry stomach?

“Mrs. Bauer?” A low rumbling voice called to her. She turned around to see the sheriff, his broad-shouldered form filling the threshold, his dark hat shading his eyes. “How’s your little girl?”

Just looking at him made her feel better, the same way she’d felt when he climbed hand over hand down that rope to rescue Mandy. “She’s doing better. Thanks to you. You got her to the doctor in good time.”

“I was Just doing my job. Serve and protect.” He swept off his gray hat, looking uncomfortable with her praise. “Daughters are priceless.”

“Yes, they are.” She couldn’t picture this enormous and powerful man as a father to little girls. Yet his presence comforted her, Just as she imagined it would a small child. Goodness shone in his eyes, the strength that came from tenderness. He was not the kind of man who harmed others. Not like the cowards who’d caused this injury to her daughter and the passenger on the stage. “How is the wounded man?”

“He took a shot to his chest, but he will live.” The sheriff stepped back into the hallway, his hat clutched in his big capable hands. The silver badge pinned to his wide chest glinted in the lamplight. “The driver’s not as lucky. He may never walk again.”

“Those horrible outlaws.” Anna shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “If you hadn’t come along, we might all be dead by now.”

His smile broadened, etching dimples into his cheeks and softening the hard, tough lawman look of him. “We’ve been having trouble at that pass. There are few towns and fewer lawmen to keep the peace, and too damn many renegades who think they can take whatever they want from innocent people. It’s my job to teach them differently.”

“So, you were waiting to protect the stage at the pass. That’s how you were there to save us?”

“Yes.” His face shadowed. He studied her for a moment. “It’s getting late. I can recommend the hotel just down the street. Janet, the innkeeper, will look after you. I’ll ask her to warm up a room for you.”

“I can’t leave Mandy.” Especially not now that she’d almost lost her.

“I understand.” His half smile dazzled. If she were in another place in her life, another time without worries and secrets and promises to marry, she would have found him attractive. Yes, very attractive.

“Is there anything I can do?” He was a good man, just wanting to help.

“Did your men find a child’s book amid the wreckage? Mandy likes to be read to. She’s still—” In danger . Anna couldn’t say the words. It hurt even to think them. “I have to believe she’ll be all right.”

“I believe it.” The sheriff towered over her, radiating strength and kindness mixed with a hard male toughness. A dizzying combination. “You take care of your daughter. I’ll check on that book for you.”

“I know it’s getting late, Sheriff.”

“I don’t mind.” Twin dimples edged that calming grin. “And stop calling me sheriff. The name’s Cooper.”

“Cooper?” The word froze on her lips. Anna watched in amazement as he strolled from sight down the hallway, those shoulders wide, that gait confident.

The man she’d come to marry was named Cooper. Surely he couldn’t be—

No. A man like that didn’t need to write away for a bride. He just had to smile and every woman within a half-mile radius probably fell at his feet.

“Mrs. Bauer?” The doctor gestured her back into the room. “Your daughter is doing better, but her condition is still very serious. I can make no guarantees. The only thing we can do is keep a close watch on her and see what the night brings.”

Cold fear curled around her insides. Anna forced back tears, more afraid and angry than she’d been in her life, and she’d been plenty of both before this.

Damn those men who’d done this to her defenseless, tiny daughter.

Anna settled down in the wooden chair at Mandy’s bedside. The little one slept still, as if death already claimed her. Even her hand felt cold to the touch.

All her troubles faded. Why she’d come to Flint Creek and what she’d left behind no longer mattered. Not now. Only Mandy mattered.

Please, she prayed. Don’t take my daughter.

“Did you get a good look at that lovely widow?” Tucker asked as he poured a fresh cup of coffee.

“I saw.” Cooper hung his hat on a wall peg and gave the door a good slam against the cool night wind. “No ideas, brother. I’m not interested in the woman.”

“Well, that’s just not natural, big brother. Not natural at all.” Tucker shook his head, feigning deep concern. “After saving her daughter the way you did, she’s not going to look twice at the rest of us poor saps. Oh no, she’ll only have eyes for you.”

“So you say. Let’s face it, Tucker, every single woman who has come to town has been charmed by your dimples, not mine.”

“True.” He took a sip of coffee. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to head home.”

“I’m on my way. Did you find a child’s storybook in the wreckage?”

“Nope.” Grim lines frowned across Tucker’s face. “Most things fell to the bottom of the cliff. How’s that injured girl?”

“Not good.” Cooper rubbed his brow. “How many outlaws did we bring in?”

“Just one. I shot him myself. He broke his jaw when he fell off his horse. The doc said he’s pretty hurt, but I’m not letting him in the clinic with innocent women and children. I locked him up. Wanna see?”

“I’ll wait until morning.” Cooper regretted they hadn’t caught more of the gang, as he’d planned. But circumstances had intervened. Rescuing Mrs. Bauer and her child was more important than nabbing a few outlaws.

“It’s a damn lucky thing you’re good with a rope.” Tucker’s gaze fastened on his, serious as a hanging judge. “Or the child would be dead. There’s no way she could have survived that fall.”

“I know.” Cooper grabbed his hat.

“Where you goin’?”

“To find a storybook.” He gestured toward the messy desk in the corner, hiding a grin. “And you straighten up around here. Some innocent taxpayer is going to walk into this office and regret how much they pay slobs like you to protect their town.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling a slob!”

Tucker’s laughing protest followed Cooper out the door and into the crisp spring night. Cold sliced through his coat. Mountain snow still clung to the ground in places, even though it was spring. He saw the light in the window and once again thought of the woman and her child. Took comfort that some mothers stayed. Some mothers loved their children more than themselves.

His house was dark except for the twin lamps lit in the parlor and the merry glow of the fire. Laura looked up from her embroidery. “I heard about the excitement.”

“Yeah, it’s been a tough day.” He felt tired. He felt drained. “How are my girls?”

“In bed asleep. I think.” Laura’s gnn was mischievous. “I’m only an aunt, not a miracle worker.”

Cooper didn’t bother to shrug off his coat. “Would you mind staying longer? I’ve got an errand to do.”

“Sure. I have nowhere to go.” Laura poked her threaded needle through the stretched-tight fabric. “But we need to discuss the situation with the housekeeper.”

“Again?” There was a conversation he wanted to avoid.

“Mrs. Potts found a salamander in the empty soup kettle.”

“Just a salamander this time?” If only his oldest girl could be as sweet and obedient as the youngest he wouldn’t have to worry about the housekeeper quitting every day of the week.

“We can be happy it wasn’t a skunk.”

“Don’t give the child any ideas.” As he climbed the stairs to the dark second story, Cooper thought of little Mandy Bauer and how he’d cradled her close on the long hard ride down the mountainside. She was frail and tiny like his own littlest girl.

He nudged open the door to the girls’ room. The moon played through the window, casting enough of a silvered glow to see their sweet faces, relaxed and content in sleep, each in her own twin bed.

Careful not to wake them, Cooper found a book by feel on the bookshelf, the nursery rhymes his Maisie treasured.

“Papa?”

So one of them wasn’t asleep. “What is it, Katie?”

“Laura said there was a lady come today on the wrecked stage.”

“There was.” He knelt down beside his oldest daughter’s bedside. “Tucker’s already told me how nice and pretty she is. I hope you aren’t going to try to match me up with this poor woman.”

“Oh Papa, Laura says cuz you’re a man, you don’t know what’s best for you.”

“She does?” He laughed at that. “No more talk. You lie back down and go to sleep. You’re going to need your rest if you want to have enough strength to try to marry me off tomorrow.”

“Go ahead and joke.” Katie shook her head, scattering dark curls against her thin shoulders. “I don’t think it’s one bit funny.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Katie had been trying to marry him to every available woman she came across for years now. She didn’t understand. As a child she never could. How did he explain to her that a stepmother was not a mother? A woman could love her own children, but love for a stepchild could only run so deep.

He’d learned that painful lesson as a young boy, and it was 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.

“You’ve done so much already.” Anna took the well-worn volume that looked lovingly opened and read across many years. “It’s late. You should be home with your family, and yet you’re here.”

“I’m on my way home. I just felt sorry for your little one. I’m partly responsible. If my men and I had arrived earlier, we might have prevented this.” He knuckled back his hat, and she could see the shine of sincerity, of strength. “Good night, Mrs. Bauer. I’ll check back with you tomorrow morning. If your daughter is improving, I’ll need to ask you some questions.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?”

“About the outlaws.” His voice was calm. “You saw the men up close. I would like to write up a report on what happened. I keep m contact with other lawmen in the county. We need to work together to catch those outlaws, and you can help.”

“I see.” She thought about that. This sheriff was in contact with other lawmen in the area. Dalton Jennings was also a lawman just a few counties away. “I didn’t get a very good look at the robbers. They wore bandannas.”

“Think on it. I’ll check back tomorrow.” His voice soothed. Or maybe it was his strength, his competence that radiated like heat from a summer sun.

“The book will make a difference, Sheriff,” she called him back, unable to let him go, still touched by his generosity. “I will return it as soon as I can.”

“Cooper, remember?” His smile was warm, and then he was gone.

She wasn’t used to calling men by their given names. But the warmth in her chest put there by his smile and thoughtfulness didn’t fade with his departure. He’d brought his own daughter’s book. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe a perfect stranger would be so kind.

Mandy still slept, her breathing shallow and uneven. Anna turned up the wick and smoothed open the book.

On the inside cover was a mark, a child’s handwritten scrawl. Anna peered close to look at it, to make out the careful, badly formed and somehow familiar letters. Katie Braddock, it said.

The sheriffs daughter. Cooper’s daughter.

The book fell from her fingers, clattered to the floor. The sound reverberated through the room, but it wasn’t as loud as the pounding of her heart.

That handsome, wonderful man who’d rescued her daughter, who’d taken care of them both. Was he truly Cooper Braddock? The man she’d come to marry?

Chapter Three

“Katie, don’t slurp your oatmeal.” Cooper reached for the sugar jar. “It’s not ladylike.”

“I’m in a hurry. Davy and me are ridin’ ponies.”

“Did I say you could do something so foolish?” He spooned sugar into his steaming cup of coffee and struggled to keep a straight face.

“Ridin’ ponies ain’t foolish, Papa. It’s fun.”

He clinked the lid down on the jar. “It’s not something a polite little girl does with her time.”

“Papa,” little Maisie chimed in, “Katie ain’t never polite.”

“True.” He laughed at his littlest, wishing he could spend more time with his daughters this morning. Thinking of the Bauer girl who may not survive, he knew he ought to carve out the time. But his work—and his sworn duty—called. “Katie, I want you to obey Mrs. Potts today.”

“You know I try real hard, Papa.” Katie wiped off her milk mustache with a practiced swipe of her sleeve.

“Try harder.” Making a little lady out of his firstborn could prove impossible. “I heard all about the trouble you caused yesterday from Laura. I’m none too pleased with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Katie bowed her chin.

“But I didn’t cause no trouble, Papa.” Maisie was all golden curls and big blue eyes. “I was a good girl.”

“I already knew that.” He kissed both girls on the forehead and took the coffee cup with him. “Katie, I want you to do something for me.”

“I don’t gotta embroider, do I?”

Shouldn’t a little girl want to embroider? “Gather up a few of Maisie’s dresses and nighties she’s outgrown, bundle them up, and take them over to the doc’s. There’s a little girl who was hurt in the stage accident yesterday, and she lost nearly all of her belongings.”

Maisie gasped. “Even her bunny?”

He saw the stuffed animal on the floor beneath his littlest one’s chair. “Yes, even her bunny.”

“How does she sleep?”

“Only babies need a bunny.” Katie dropped her spoon with a clatter. “Papa, you want me to do it now?”

“Yes, before you go play with Davy. Promise me.”

Katie thought about it, obviously torn at the sad idea of a hurt little girl and tempted by a wild morning racing ponies. “I promise, Papa. I’ll do it right away.”

“That’s my girl.” Despite her spiritedness, she was a good child. “Take the clothes over to the clinic and ask for Mrs. Bauer.”

“Mrs. Bauer?” Katie froze stiff as an icicle.

“That’s what I said. She’s a real nice lady, so don’t scare her with any matchmaking schemes. She has enough worries on her mind.”

“Uh, what does she look like, Papa?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find her.” His daughter wasn’t shy with strangers, especially pretty women. Cooper didn’t know how else to interpret Katie’s behavior. “If you have any problems, just ask the doc. He’ll help you.”

Leaving his daughter to nod in answer, Cooper stopped in the kitchen to praise Mrs. Potts for showing up this morning and for providing a good breakfast, despite yesterday’s salamander incident.

Too wise, the plump woman managed a sour comment and asked about a raise. He had no choice but to agree.

Not a good way to start the day. As long as the militant housekeeper didn’t quit. Troubled, he stepped out into the morning. Pine and fresh mountain rain scented the air. He headed down the street toward work, hoping for a quiet day. Just one quiet day. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

“You must eat,” the doc said as he stepped into the sick room. “You haven’t touched your tray.”

“I know. And after your wife went to the trouble of fixing me a meal.” Anna rubbed her brow. In truth, she wasn’t just exhausted. She felt sick and dizzy. Her arm hurt something terrible from a wound she’d sustained. She could barely move her hand this morning.

Yet every time she thought about showing the doctor the ragged tear through flesh and muscle, he was hovering over Mandy. With his stethoscope to the girl’s chest, he listened to her punctured lung. And as always, concern lined his face. There were other people also seriously wounded from the stage robbery. She could not take the doctor’s attention from any of them, not for something as small as her tiny little injury.

He frowned. “You’re terribly flushed. How you are feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She said it, hoping to make it true.

A cool hand touched her brow. “You’re burning up.”

“No. I’m just tired.”

Understanding warmed those eyes. “I know you’re concerned about your daughter. You have every right. But don’t forget Mandy needs a healthy mother to depend on.”

“She needs me now. Right here.” Anna patted the open book in her lap.

“I’m not going to argue with you. For now.” The doc stood. “Anna, if you feel worse, you must tell me.”

“Agreed.” Her eyes filled, and she looked away. The doctor left to check on the other patients. She rubbed her forehead. She really wasn’t feeling very well at all.

“Are you Anna? Anna Bauer?”

“Yes, I am.” Anna turned, surprised to see a spindly brown-haired girl, maybe nine, maybe ten years old, leaning against the threshold, hugging a bundle in her skinny arms. Mud spattered the hem of her dress, crooked above scabbed knees.

The girl dragged her feet forward nearly lost behind the ball of what looked like an old sheet. “Papa said to bring this. On account of your little girl gettin’ hurt.”

Anna’s heart twisted. She accepted the offered bundle. “Who is your papa?”

“The sheriff.”

“I met him just yesterday.” Anna began working the knot in the sheet. “He brought me your storybook so I could read to Mandy.”

Katie’s dark gaze slid to the bed then flicked back nervously. “Did you know it’s all my fault?”

“What is?” The knot came loose. “The book really helped. Thank you for loaning it to me.”

“It’s my fault she’s hurt.” Big tears began pooling, but they didn’t fall. That stubborn chin jutted upward. “I didn’t think anyone would get hurt.”

“The stage accident isn’t your fault.”

What a thoughtful, sensitive child. This was the sheriff’s daughter. Cooper’s daughter. The Katie mentioned in those wonderful letters. Letters that fed her hopes and dreams for Mandy’s future. How Anna wished she could reach out and comfort the girl with a touch, maybe a hug. Heaven knows she looked as if she could use a woman’s care. Maybe a mother’s love.

“Why, you brought Mandy some clothes.” Anna unfolded an adorable pink gingham frock with a little sunbonnet to match. Starched clean drawers, a pretty flowered nightgown and cap, a little sweater with embroidered strawberries to go with a strawberry print dress.

“We don’t want your little hurt girl to go naked when she wakes up.” That lower lip trembled. “Is she gonna die?”

“Don’t you worry. Mandy is going to be just fine.” Anna carefully folded the beautiful clothes, throat aching. It was hard not to reach out and comfort Katie, who looked as if she needed it so desperately. “Tell your papa thank you for the clothes.”

“I will.” The girl kicked the toe of her shoe against the floor. “My name’s Katie. Maybe you know me.”

“I sure do.” Anna set the clothes and sheet aside. “Your father wrote all about you and Maisie.”

“That’s why you’re here, right?” Katie tilted her head, scattering dark wisps that had escaped her twin braids. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

Anna took one look into those curious dark eyes just like Cooper’s, carefully hiding so many emotions. The idea of a new stepmother must be worrisome for a child. That she could understand. Anna rose, held out her hand. “I’ll answer any questions you want. Let’s go out into the hallway so we don’t wake Mandy.”

“I know you already met Papa.” The girl hurried out of the room. “Do you think he’s handsome?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Anna took one look at the girl and shook her head. And that made her a little dizzy, so she leaned against the wall to rest a bit.

“Maisie needs a new mother, you know, because she ain’t rugged like me.”

“Maisie is your little sister,” Anna remembered.

“Yep. Papa hasn’t married anyone since our mama left. So that’s why I did it. I used my own money I earned looking for gold dust with Davy Muldune for the advertisement—”

“Advertisement?” Her brain felt a little fuzzy. Really, she needed to sit down before the doctor caught her swaying in the corridor.

“You’re awful pretty,” Katie added in a rush. “And you got a little girl, too. I seen her in that bed. She sorta matches us.”

“Katie, I—”

“That’s why I had you come, and not just for Maisie. My poor lonely papa needs a wife.”

“Poor lonely papa?” a man’s voice boomed.

Head spinning, Anna looked up into a lean, handsome face. His gaze, dark as midnight, sparkled with what could only be humor. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She felt hot, then cold all over.

He must have known since last night who she was, that she was the woman he’d proposed to just last month. And yet he’d waited to talk to her about it. Maybe out of respect for Mandy’s condition.

Her head spun. Her knees wobbled. Cooper’s iron hard arms encircled her, held her tight against his chest. She tried to tell him she was fine.

But the world faded, and all went black.

She opened her eyes and saw him, Cooper, sitting at her bedside, a dark shank of hair falling over his forehead. His dark gaze brushed hers, bold as a touch.

“You gave us a scare for a minute there.”

Anna tried to sit up, but the blood rushed from her head. She landed back on the pillow.

“Don’t worry. The doc’s with your girl. I made him promise to stay with her until you were awake.” Cooper unfolded his hard-muscled body from the chair and crossed the room. Anna heard the scrape of porcelain and the tinkle and splash of pouring water. “I also made Katie stay and read aloud to your daughter, since at first I thought she was the cause of all this.”

“The cause?”

He handed her a tin mug with a half grin, lopsided and attractive. “I thought she’d shocked you with her outrageous propositions and that’s why you fainted.”

“Propositions?” She nearly spilled the water.

Cooper’s bigger fingers wrapped around hers. His skin’s heat scorched her and sent sparkling little frissons dancing up her arm.

“She does this to every woman she comes across. Tries to charm them first into going out to dinner with me. And then into marrying me, that little scamp.”

The rim of the cup brushed her bottom lip. His hand still guided hers. The cool water washed into her mouth, but she hardly noticed it. Cooper—he seemed to fill her senses—the whiskered days’ growth along his jaw, the scent of leather and pine, the rumbling richness of his voice. He was all she saw, all she felt rushing through her heated body.

“Katie?” The cool water hadn’t washed away the confused fog in her mind.

“Then the doc discovered the gunshot wound in your upper arm. You should have told someone before this. You’re going to be all right, but the doc had to give you a few stitches.”

She closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean to faint.”

“You were thinking of your daughter, not yourself.” When she looked up at him, she saw approval lining his face, and he nodded once.

“Mandy—”

“Lie back. She’s fine.” Cooper stepped away, but his warmth, his presence remained. She thought of all the trouble she was in and knew it was wrong to lean on him.

“Katie just wants a mother, but she shouldn’t have bothered you with your daughter hurt.” Cooper’s dark eyes shone with sadness. “I just hope you can find a way to forgive her.”

Confusion rang in Anna’s mind. What did she need to forgive? Katie only wanted to meet the woman her father planned to manry.

Or did he? Cooper Braddock was not acting as if he’d proposed to her. Polite, helpful, concerned. But not personal. It was as if he didn’t know who she was. He hadn’t even mentioned their future. And now he was walking away, as if they were perfect strangers.

“Maybe we could talk about the letters now.” Anna struggled to sit up. She’d been wrong to postpone discussing it.

Cooper turned, framed in the threshold, a powerful and handsome larger-than-life man any woman would want. “My deputies didn’t find letters in the wreckage, ma’am. I hope it wasn’t anything important.”

He quirked one dark brow, a silent question offering help. But nothing else. No recognition. No comment. And no evasion.

Anna didn’t understand. Surely, Cooper Braddock knew her full name. Surely, by mentioning the letters he would say something about their correspondence. Then Anna remembered Katie’s look of horror and jumbled words when her father walked in.

Realization hit her like a falling brick. Her too-many hopes fell. She’d made this perilous journey for nothing. She still had to worry if Dalton Jennings would somehow figure out where she was and follow her. Now there was no husband waiting, no man to marry, no one to help raise her daughter.

It was Katie who sent the letters. Katie who’d written of the need for a mother able to ride ponies and bake cookies for little Maisie. Katie who wrote with the unpracticed scrawl Anna had mistaken for an uneducated man’s handwriting. So many men in the area just didn’t have much schooling.

Tears burned in her eyes. She’d never felt at such a loss. She’d never felt so foolish.

“Lie still for a few hours more.” Cooper’s voice rumbled like thunder, but was gentle like spring sunshine. “Give yourself a chance to heal first. Then go to your daughter. She’s doing better.”

Better. Anna clung to those words.

Cooper sat down at the kitchen table and listened to the stillness of the house, of the night. He’d had a hell of a long day. Too damn long. And he was no closer to bringing down Corinthos.

He reached for the sugar jar to sweeten the cup of coffee he’d just poured when he heard the pad of little bare feet. “Katie, is that you?”

“Yes, Papa.” So sad.

“Wanna come keep me company?” He pulled out the chair next to him.

“I guess.” She dragged her feet.

“I’m a pretty good listener if you want to tell me what’s wrong.”

She plopped down on the chair, her hair disheveled, her nightgown wrinkled, her feet bare. A heavy sigh. “What about Mrs. Bauer?”

“She hurt her arm.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Probably.” He remembered the look on Katie’s face when Anna Bauer had fainted. “See what you get for trying to marry me off? It scares some women so bad they lose consciousness.”

“Oh, Papa.” Almost a smile. “It’s all my fault.”

“What is?” He tugged his chair around to face her. Something weighed mighty heavily on her conscience. “What did you do, Katie?”

“It’s my fault they’re hurt.” Another sniffle.

“Mrs. Bauer and her daughter? Why Katie, you didn’t rob the stage, did you?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t scare the horses that ran off with the coach, did you?”

“Papa, that’s not what I mean.” Exasperation blended with that sadness. “They’re all hurt because of me, and I can’t sleep.”

“Mrs. Potts said you didn’t eat anything for supper.

“I w-wasn’t hungry.” Sobs broke apart her words. “Oh, Papa, this is the baddest thing I’ve ever done.”

She flew into his arms before he could react, and he held her good and tight, relishing the rare moment. Katie never cried like this, always declaring herself too tough. Yet she felt frail, all bird-thin bones and heartbreak.

“You’re always in trouble, Katie,” he said lightly, his chest tight. He didn’t like his daughter hurting. “I bet it’s not so awful.”

“It is.” Her arms tightened around his neck. “You have to make it right, Papa.”

More soul-deep sobs rocked her body. “You gotta tell me what to do so it don’t hurt no more.”

His chest tightened. So many childhood troubles. He dug a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. “All this crying isn’t going to solve a thing.”

“Oh, Papa.” Katie blew, wiped, then refolded the hanky. “There’s only one thing to do.”

“Just one thing to fix the baddest thing you’ve ever done?” He tried to coax a smile from that serious mouth. And failed.

“You have to marry her.”

“Not that again.”

“But it’s the right thing!”

Cooper couldn’t imagine why she’d gotten all worked up over being without a stepmother. Katherine had been gone a long time, nearly half Katie’s life. They’d adjusted, moved on, tried to make a family with just the three of them. Katie knew he was never going to remarry. As a boy, he’d managed to endure being a stepchild, but his daughters would not be exposed to such a situation.

He swiped at two of Katie’s tears with his thumb. “How many times have we talked about this?”

“Probaby a million.” Another sob. “B-but Papa. It’s different now.”

“Why?” He brushed tear-wet curls from her brow.

“Because I wrote a letter and asked Mrs. Bauer to come here.”

“You what?”

“Maisie needs a mama. She needs one real bad.”

Cooper deposited Katie on the floor and bolted up from the chair. He hit the ground pacing. Anger flared. “Let me get this straight. You wrote a letter to a perfect stranger and asked her to come here?”

“To marry us.”

White-hot anger speared through him. “Katie, you’re right. This is the baddest thing you have ever done.”

Cooper spun at the back door and crossed the length of the room, fists jammed at his sides, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. Nice little girls didn’t do the things Katie did. They didn’t climb trees and play in mud and race ponies. Or propose to innocent strangers.

Maybe it was because those other little girls had mothers.

Katie burst into tears again. “They got hurt and Maisie still doesn’t have a m-mama!”

Frustration, rage, defeat. It all melded together in his midsection and churned.. He wanted to punish her. He wanted to comfort her. He wished to hell and back Katie would learn to embroider or something ladylike and stop with the wild harebrained schemes.

“It is your fault that Mrs. Bauer and her daughter were on that stage.” He managed to keep his voice calm.

Harder tears.

“But you couldn’t have known they would come to harm.”

“I d-didn’t.” True sorrow shone in those eyes, the same color as his.

Cooper stared at his reflection in the dark window. “How did you find Mrs. Bauer in the first place?”

“I bought a newspaper advertisement.”

“You did what?” Renewed fury roared through him. He would never understand his daughter. She was too flighty, too headstrong, too—He didn’t know what, but it wasn’t a good thing. Little girls were supposed to be demure and polite, cute and neat—not muddy and outrageous. “You placed a request for a mother in a newspaper?”

Katie’s eyes still brimmed with tears. “No. I pretended to be you.”

“Anna Bauer thinks that I—” His knees buckled. Speechless, he simply stared at his daughter. The pony rides, the trousers, the mud, the disobedience and now this. Katie didn’t need a mother, she needed a warden and steel bars on the window.

Cooper held out his hand. “There’s no need to cry.”

She tipped up her tear-wet face. “You’ll fix everything, Papa?”

“Of course I will. I’m the sheriff. That’s my job.”

A smile nudged away the sadness and Katie’s fingers wrapped tightly around his. “I knew you would.”

All the trust in the world shone in those eyes. Cooper’s chest filled. How he loved his little girl. “Come, let’s get you back in bed.”

It was a sweet task, tucking the covers up to her chin, wishing her good dreams, waiting as she drifted off. His two little daughters, safe and snug.

A noise downstairs spun him around. With his five shooter strapped tight to his thigh, he started down the stairs. This part of Montana was isolated but saw its share of trouble. That’s why the good people of Flint Creek had hired him. He had promised to keep their families and their businesses safe from crime. It was a tall order, but Cooper Braddock was a man of his word.

“I saw your light on,” Laura’s voice called out to him before he strode into the kitchen.

“More problems with Katie.” He unbuckled his gun belt, the day’s work done.

“That’s nothing new. What is it this time?”

He studied his young sister’s pretty face, the concern so bright in her eyes. He knew Laura loved his daughters, but the emerald flashing on her left ring finger left no room for doubt. Laura would soon be married, starting a new life, making her own family. It was time to stop depending on her so heavily.

He laid the gun belt on the table with a soft clink. “She can’t sleep. Nothing to worry about.”

“With Katie, there’s a lot to worry about.” Those caring eyes twinkled. “Will you share your coffee?”

“With pleasure. If you can stand my bitter brew.”

“Let’s just say I’m used to your cooking, big brother.” She lifted the enamel pot from the stove, just as she’d done hundreds, maybe thousands of times. “What are you going to do when I marry?”

“About the girls?” He sat down at the table. Sighed. “I’ve tried not to think about it. I don’t think Mrs. Potts is going to stay without you here.”

“I think Mrs. Potts is ready to run screaming to Canada if Katie brings one more slimy creature into this kitchen, whether on purpose or not.” Laura’s fondness rang in her voice. She set her steaming cup on the table and sat across from him. Her gaze met his. “Cooper, those girls of yours need a mother.”

“They have me.” He lifted his chin.

“A father’s love is important, but you’re a man. You’re busy providing for your family, protecting the town and doing your job. A man has to do that, I know. You need to provide for your girls and that takes you away from them. I’m not faulting you.”

He rubbed his brow, tired. “Whatever my daughters need, they have my love. Not every man stands by his family.”

“You’ve made a fine home for them.”

Those tender words, brimming with understanding, hurt more than Cooper could admit. He’d worked hard to do right by his girls after Katherine walked away. To love them, provide for them. “I couldn’t have done so much without your help, Laura.”

“I’ve been glad to do it, Cooper.” Her lower lip wobbled. “I’m proud of you for taking a risk and doing what’s right for yourself and my two beautiful nieces.”

Love filled him up. “That means a lot to me, Laura. Life would be damn empty without my daughters.”

He thought of Anna Bauer and how she’d come so close to losing her child. His family was safe, healthy and happy. Yes, he was a lucky man indeed.

Laura’s hand covered his, an act of comfort from sister to brother. “I haven’t taken the time to meet your Anna yet, out of respect for her injured girl, but from what Tucker says, she’s wonderful.”

Cooper’s hand shook, the cup slipped. Hot coffee scorched his thigh. “What has Tucker been saying, that no-good brother of ours?”

“Only that he found certain letters in the stage wreckage and because they were so personal, he’s keeping them away from the other deputies’ prying eyes.” Laura’s face beamed with happiness. “Oh, Cooper. Why didn’t you tell us? I’m so happy you’ve found a wife.”

Chapter Four

Lee Corinthos held the revolver in a white-knuckled grip. He hated the way the gun shook. Hated weakness of any kind, no matter how hurt he was. “Are you sure you ain’t causin’ more harm?”

Fear glittered in the doc’s watery eyes. “No, sir. I’m doing the best job I can. Your man is hurt real bad.”

Excuses. Corinthos was tired of those, too. “If my man dies, you die too, Doc.”

More fear in those eyes. Educated men didn’t know how to fight, Corinthos knew. The doctor brought up from Rocky Gulch would prove no threat. Men like him didn’t have the guts.

“I’ll do all I can.” The doc swallowed hard, as if realizing the importance of his surgery, and returned to digging the bullet out of Jeffrey’s thigh.

“Those lawmen were waitin’ for us.” Dusty wiped his brow, winced in pain, then lowered his bandaged hand. “It’s that sheriff Flint Creek hired to replace old Joe.”

“Old Joe made things easy for us.”

“With a little bit of bribery and just the right pressure,” Dusty cackled.

“I wish to hell he’d stayed. We’ve got problems.”

“We’ll find a way to deal with Braddock. Every man has his pressure points.” Dusty stopped. “Want me to keep a gun on the doc?”

“I can do it,” Corinthos growled. He was the toughest son of a gun in all of Montana Territory. He refused to show weakness in front of his men, even if he was hurt bad enough to pass out. “Yep, that damn new sheriff is a problem.”

“Braddock’s his name. Cooper Braddock.”

“He’s gotta cooperate or we’ll take him out of our way. I plan on keeping my business profitable.” With the amount of gold traveling from the mines on this side of the Rockies, he’d be rich before long. “First, I’ll have to pay that Braddock back for plowing a bullet into me.”

“I wanna be there to see it.” Dusty chuckled, as always relishing even the thought of violence.

“Doc, are you done yet?” Corinthos nosed the revolver against the scrawny doc’s neck. The room was starting to spin and the outlaw couldn’t keep standing much longer without a flask of whiskey, but he wouldn’t say it. Wouldn’t let his men know it.

“I’m just closing up now.”

“Then I’m next.” Corinthos gritted his teeth against the pain. He would get his damn wound stitched and then he’d be heading right back to Flint Creek. He had a witness to silence and a score to settle.

And settle it he would. Lee Corinthos always got what he wanted—at any cost. It didn’t pay for a man to be honest and polite. No, it was a ruthless man who won every time. Corinthos had learned that bitter lesson the hard way, for it was the way of the West.

As the hours passed watching Mandy sleep, Anna had to struggle to tamp down her fears. She could stand any amount of grief and hardship, but not the death of her daughter.

Anna reached for the borrowed storybook, smoothed open the nch paper pages to a favored tale. Over the rasp of Mandy’s breathing, she began to read. The story was familiar, often read in quiet hours back home, and Anna’s mind drifted. She thought of Dalton. Thought of her sister, who’d sent him in the wrong direction. She hoped Meg was safe. Anna thought of the stage robbers. Hoped that they, like Dalton, didn’t favor silencing every last witness.

Fear coiled through her, squeezing tight. What could she do? Where could she go? She had no money, no belongings, no help. Mandy was too critically injured to move. And Cooper Braddock hadn’t proposed to her. There was no husband, no home, no family waiting for her.

“Anna?”

A jolt of awareness skittled along the back of her neck. She knew by the commanding feel of him that it was Cooper. Did he know why she’d come to town? What should she do now? Troubled, she rubbed her tired eyes.

“You’ve been crying.” His voice rumbled with concern. “Is it your daughter?”

“Mandy’s doing much better. She’s sat up and taken some chicken broth. The doctor has high hopes.” Thank heavens for that.

“May I come in?”

“You? Always.” What should she say to him? He still stood in the threshold, one wide shoulder propped against the door frame. He was a big man; he filled the small dark room with his powerful presence. Dizzy, Anna caught her breath as he pulled up a chair. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me.”

“It’s the least I can do, being the sheriff and all.” He winked, and the kindness, the strength of him shone in his dark eyes. “I take it you’re a rather independent woman.”

Was he commenting or criticizing? She couldn’t tell for sure, but he looked to be holding back a smile. “And you’re a rather overbearing man. Maybe because you take your badge a little too serinously.”

A broad, lopsided grin stretched his mouth and reached all the way to his laughing eyes. “Smart mouthed, too. I must warn you, I have a lot of experience dealing with your type of female.”

“Because you’re a sheriff?”

“No, because I’m a father.”

They laughed together. There was no mistaking the affection in his eyes, the great love he had for his daughters. Anna wrung her hands, truly awestruck by such a man. Such a wonderful man.

“I was hoping since your child is out of danger, that we can talk.” His eyes darkened.

“Talk?” she squeaked.

“It’s important.” He gestured toward the door. Anna hesitated. She wasn’t up to discussing the letters. Had he figured out why she was here?

Embarrassed, afraid that her feelings showed, she stepped out into the hall

“I’ve got a real serious situation.” Cooper gestured toward a chair in the doc’s parlor.

Anna sat, her pulse beating like a drum in her ears. Had he found out about Dalton? It was possible. After all, both men were sheriffs in the same county, even if nearly a hundred miles separated their towns.

“This is the first time anyone has survived a stage robbery by Corinthos’ gang. You stood the closest to him. He spoke to you. Could you identify him if you saw him again? If this goes to trial, we will need all the witnesses we can get.”

“You want to know about the robbery?” Relief shivered through her veins. At least she still had some secrets.

A noisy clatter pounded outside the window, and then the door swung open. “Papa! Papa!”

Two little girls tumbled into the clinic, Katie wearing trousers and a big flannel shirt, and a smaller child in a pink calico dress.

“What are my two favorite girls doing here?” Cooper turned toward the little intruders, a smile tugging away at the stern set of his mouth.

“Mrs. Potts is shopping, so she said we gotta come on over and see Anna.” Katie ground to a stop in the middle of the parlor, braids bobbing. She rubbed several strands of escaped hair out of her eyes. “Papa, Mrs. Potts is really, really mad at you again. Hi, Anna.”

A little blond sprite of a girl stared out at her from between Cooper’s knees.

Anna’s entire heart warmed. “Hello.”

He cleared his throat. “You mean Mrs. Potts is really mad at you. What did you do this time?”

“Nothing. A snake got into the pantry, that’s all.” Katie’s eyes twinkled with barely restrained mischief. “She’s awfully scared of things like that.”

“You and I will discuss this later.” He didn’t look pleased, but he wasn’t angry, wasn’t punishing.

A good father, Anna decided. Just the sort of man she’d hoped to find. “Katie, I haven’t forgotten about returning your storybook. I’m still reading to Mandy from it.”

“Only Maisie likes those stories now.” The girl turned serious, obviously concentrating on more important matters. “Do you like my papa enough to marry him yet?”

Anna couldn’t hold back her chuckle. She looked up and caught the surprise in Cooper’s eyes, laughed at the astonishment slackening his unshaven jaw. “No, Katie. I don’t like your father that much.”

“Pretty women always say that.” Katie affected a troubled sigh, her heart-deep need for a mother’s love dark like lost hope in her eyes.

“Katie. Maisie. Let’s go outside.” Cooper wouldn’t meet Anna’s gaze as he headed for the door. Apparently he did know about the letters, about her embarrassing situation. Why hadn’t he said anything? Was he afraid she’d demand marriage whether he wanted her or not?

“Anna, come see Bob,” Katie called as she bolted toward the door, braids flying.

“Yeah. Come see Bob,” Maisie chimed.

Cooper’s gaze snared hers, intense and unflinching. The air stalled in her chest. She saw the warmth of this family and couldn’t help wanting to be a part of it, just in a small way, for this one moment. “Who’s Bob?”

Katie hopped out onto the sunlit boardwalk. “Bob is my pony.”

“A very bad pony.” Big blue eyes met Anna’s. Maisie blushed shyly, then dashed outside in a pink blur.

“She’s precious.” Delight transformed Anna’s heart-shaped face.

“You see what I’m up against. Two adorable girls who have me wrapped around their little fingers.”

“I’ll say.” She smiled, but it was warm, without censure. Not judgmental, not disapproving. When it came to Katie, he got the latter reaction most of the time.

He could only stare at Anna, liking her for liking his girls. He couldn’t help it, even if he was looking disaster in the face. Not only did Anna know he knew about the letters, but now both his girls thought a marriage between them was possible.

That matchmaking Katie had gone too far this time! Cooper gave Anna one more look, for he was too angry to speak, then stepped outside.

He had to remember Anna wasn’t all that different from Katherine. Needing his help. Seeking his protection. Looking up at him with doe-soft eyes so that he would lay down his life—or his honor—to protect her, no matter the cost. He would not make that mistake again.

“Anna, come on!” Katie’s voice lifted in the springscented wind, loud enough to make people turn on the other side of the street and look.

“Katie,” he admonished, grabbing her arm and pulling her close. “This is going too far and you know it. You can’t go against my wishes like this.”

“What?” Innocent eyes. Yes, they really were innocent. With Katie, he had to be certain.

“You know very well Mrs. Bauer is not going to be your mother. I thought we agreed no more—”

“But you promised!” Dismayed, she stepped back. Then remembering, lowered her voice. “Papa, you promised. You said you would fix everything. Make it all right.”

He closed his eyes. Counted to ten. “Yes, that’s what I said. But I never said I would marry the woman.”

“Nor should he,” Anna’s voice, firm but gentle, interrupted. Thank goodness she was on his side. “I know you wrote the letters, Katie.”

“You do?” Eyes so filled with surprise.

He turned and looked down at her exhaustion-lined face. His skin buzzed with her nearness. He breathed in the scent of the dust-filled air and Anna, soft as roses, intoxicating as fine whiskey.

“I appreciate this, Anna.” He caught her gaze, as soft as a featherlight touch to his face. “I didn’t know how to bring up the subject.”

“I understand.” And she did. It shone clear and honest in her eyes. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t blame Katie.

The guilt and his burden doubled. A harridan or a manipulator he could send out of town on the next stage without a thought. But Anna... She posed a real problem.

Yep, she was as appealing as the lemony shafts of sunshine burnishing her gold curls. She breezed by him, and the hair stood up on his arms. She smiled at him and his heart stopped beating.

Maisie hid behind his legs, her grip on his knees keeping him from stepping forward. Bob’s mouth opened, those beady intelligent eyes focused on Anna’s dress.

“Come pet her,” Katie coaxed. “She don’t bite.”

“She bites,” Maisie whispered.

Anna offered her slender hand to the defiant pony. Big teeth closed around Anna’s ruffled hem and tugged.

“Watch out.” He dove forward, breaking away from Maisie to rescue Anna.

But already she’d waved away the concern with a flick of her slender hand. “No harm done.” Her smile shone as true as the North Star. “Bob looks like a great pony.”

Approval shone in Katie’s eyes. That mischievous, certain-to-be-punished Katie. “My Bob’s the fastest pony in town. Everyone says so. And she jumps really high, too.”

“Jumps?” he boomed. When did she start jumping that pony? She was under express orders not to—

“She?” Anna interrupted his thoughts and then laughed with such honest gentleness he forgot to be angry. “You named a girl pony, Bob?”

“She’s tough like me. I didn’t want her to have no frilly name.” Katie patted Bob’s brown side with pride before springing up onto the pony’s back.

“Being tough must be pretty important.”

The breeze lifted through Anna’s hair, shivering around her shoulders. So delicious, so inviting, he had to fist his hands. What would it feel like to wind his fingers through those gold locks, to feel that rich silk against his skin? The touch of a woman, her gentleness in his life—he hadn’t realized he’d missed such things.

Until now.

Maisie stepped out and tugged at Anna’s skirt. “Katie said you are gonna be my mama. That’s fine by me.”

Anna’s face crumpled, charmed and touched. Cooper rushed forward to grab his littlest girl, but Anna was already kneeling before her, laying a hand to that childsoft face. “Dear heart, what a sweet wish.”

“Ain’t no wish.” Maisie set her chin, a world of adoration lighting her berry-blue eyes.

Cooper scooped the child up into his arms as anger tore through his chest. He hadn’t realized how much his daughters might need a woman’s love in their lives. He hadn’t wanted to see it, but he’d only lied to himself.

Dreading the talk to come, Cooper set his Maisie up on Bob’s back, snug behind Katie. As Maisie wrapped her slim arms around her sister’s waist, he warned his eldest to ride slowly, no racing and no jumping with Maisie astride. Katie’s earnest promise reassured him.

“No need to worry, Cooper.” Her gaze didn’t move from the sight of the little girls astride Bob, trotting down the street, Maisie bouncing off-rhythm to the pony’s stride. “I won’t hold you to your daughter’s proposal.”

His throat went dry. He couldn’t look at her. “That’s mighty generous of you. Considering all you risked and almost lost in coming here.”

“Not generous. Practical.” Her voice lowered, soft as a setting sun. “I need to check on my daughter.”

“Wait.” He caught her hand and looked down into eyes so sad it hurt him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for this confusion. Katie just wants a mother so badly. I’m not excusing her behavior, but I want to make things right. Let me help you.”

“No help is necessary.” Her eyes shone. “You’re a good man for offering.”

A good man? No, he was just trying to find his way, like anyone else.

She strode away, light and simple, without accusation or guilt.

But he felt guilty enough. He took off after her. “I fully intend to help you. Considering my daughter brought you here, I could do no less.”

“Put that billfold away.” Anna’s blue eyes rounded.

“I ought to compensate you for your passage here.” He thumbed through the bills.

“No.”

“But Anna, you lost all your money in the robbery.”

“That doesn’t mean—” Her eyes sparkled, as if she were holding back tears. Pride lifted her chin, kept her spine straight. “I’m not the kind of woman you can pay off.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t need your money.” She spun, skirts swishing, marching quickly back into the doctor’s clinic.

He bolted through the door after her. “If you won’t take my money, then let me pay for a room in the hotel.”

She turned and lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t let you do that. I don’t belong here, not really. And I won’t accept your help.”

“Not even for your daughter?”

“I can take care of her.” Pride. It had been a long time since he’d seen much to admire in a woman. He had to admire Anna Bauer, had to admit she was a different sort of woman than Katherine, even if she now needed help. “I don’t need your pity, Cooper. Or charity.”

“Soon she’ll be able to leave the clinic. She’ll need a place to stay.”

Anna wrung her hands, slender fingers that were red and rough, callused-looking, hands that had known hard work. “Let me worry about providing for my daughter. She isn’t your responsibility, Cooper.”

“I pulled her from the wreckage. I held her in my arms throughout that ride back to town. I handed her over to the doctor. I feel a duty. I want to know she’s going to be well, that men like Corinthos can’t destroy every life they touch.”

She lifted her face. Tears glistened there, clear as morning dew. “We’re alive today because of your bravery, your strength. You’re a wonderful man.”

“Aw, you don’t know the real me.” He blushed, uncomfortable with the admiration clear like morning in her eyes. “Cantankerous. Bossy. No woman will have me.”

“So Katie said.” A single tear slid down her pale cheek. “Don’t you worry about me, Cooper. I can take care of myself.”

“Against a man like Corinthos?”

“Against any man.” That stubborn chin hiked higher.

He stepped forward and watched the pupils in her eyes darken, watched her take in a steady breath, lifting the curve of her small, firm bosom. Real fear shadowed her face, and he wondered why. Maybe she was remembering the stage robbery, he reasoned. She had a right to be afraid. Corinthos wasn’t known for leaving his witnesses alive.

Or maybe she was as wary of entanglements as he was.

A clatter and a horse’s squealing whinny erupted on the street outside. Cooper pulled back the drapes at the front window. He saw the tanner’s unruly horse shying at a dust devil, nothing more. Still, he had to be on guard with Corinthos alive and gunning for him.

“I gotta go.” He knuckled back his hat, avoiding Anna’s compelling gaze, wishing he could do more for her. Wishing he could lift her burdens from those slim shoulders.

“You don’t have to do this on your own, Anna. You’re here because of my daughter, and I’ll make sure you have a hotel room, money, a ticket out of here. Whatever you want.”

She looked away and said nothing.

He didn’t know what to think about this woman, so determined to stand on her own. He’d never met anyone like her before. So independent, so proud for a woman. And while he didn’t understand, he did admire her for it.

As he strode out onto the street, Anna’s rose scent lingered sweet in his mind.

“Mrs. Bauer is one pretty woman,” Tucker commented from across the room.

Cooper looked up from his paperwork. Judging by the tone of his brother’s voice, he was up to something. “Are you thinking of courting her?”

“Heck, no. I’m not ready to settle down.”

“You’re twenty-five.”

“Far too young to be chained down by wedding vows.” Tucker winked. “But you, on the other hand big brother, are a prime candidate for marriage. Yep, Anna Bauer is just about right for you. Got that cute little daughter. Would fit right in with your girls. Even survived an introduction with Bob, or so I heard.”

“Enough.” Cooper uncrossed his ankles and put both feet firmly on the floor. “Has Katie been confiding in you? Or conspiring with you?”

“Now don’t go blaming everything on that wildcat girl of yours.” Tucker laughed, clearly amused. “I know what’s going on here. And I have to say I’m proud of you, realizing how much your girls need a mother and going about finding one. If I knew a woman that nice and pretty would answer a newspaper advertisement, I would have placed one myself years ago.”

“I thought you didn’t want to settle down.”

“I don’t. I meant I’d look for a wife for you, big brother.” Tucker laughed. “It’s just what you need.”

“That’s the very last thing I need.” Something had to be done about the misimpression of those darn letters. Cooper stopped at Tucker’s desk. “Hand them over.”

“I thought I’d save them for their rightful owner. Mrs. Bauer’s letters are personal.”

“They are also none of your business.” Cooper waited while Tucker dug them out of his bottom drawer, damaged and torn, but clearly Katie’s undisciplined scrawl marked those envelopes. How the girl engineered something like this was beyond him.

“There you go.” Tucker leaned back in his chair, the devil laughing in his eyes. “I trust you’ll see your betrothed gets them.”

Betrothed? Cooper swallowed his anger. He’d taken just about enough teasing from both siblings. He stuffed the letters in his shirt pocket. “This is a matter between me and the lady, Tucker. I don’t want you breathing a word of this to anyone.”

“You can count on me.” Tucker tried not to laugh. “So, are you going to marry her?”

“You know the answer to that question.” He didn’t believe in love. He’d made that mistake before and he’d lost more than his wife, more than his heart. She’d destroyed his honor, the very code by which he lived.

No one was going to do that to him again. Especially now that he had children. He felt badly for Anna Bauer, soft as morning light and good-humored to match. She’d risked so much because she needed a husband. Now, she would not accept his help. Anna, so kind and caring, deserved more than a few broken promises. What should he do? Cooper stared out the window, at a loss.

A pop of distant gunfire brought him to attention. He saw no trouble on the street, but he sensed it. Corinthos was back to break his gang member out of jail.

The deputies were all headed home, their day’s work done. “Tucker, alert the men. We’ve got trouble.”

“Mama?”

“Yes, pumpkin.” She turned, her mounting troubles momentarily forgotten. All that mattered was the tiny little girl hardly more than a wrinkle beneath the thick blankets, her button face so pale.

“Thirsty.”

“Let me get you some water.” Her hand shook as she grabbed hold of the pitcher’s porcelain handle. Splashes plopped in the basin, kerplunked on the table. But she held the tin cup steady so her child could drink. Just three small sips, then Mandy sank back into the pillows, already asleep.

Anna hated seeing her daughter injured, in so much pain. Far too weak to enjoy the captivating stories in Katie’s book. Or to play in the sunshine. Or sing songs.

Frustration knotted in her throat. No one had the right to hurt a child like this. No one. She well knew the world wasn’t fair, but a child should know compassion and safety, not fear and injury at the hands of a ruthless stranger.

The door flew open with a bang. Anna spun around. Fear lodged in her throat when she recognized the coldeyed man standing in the threshold, revolvers aimed straight at her chest.

Chapter Five

Cooper’s blood quickened at the sight of the familiar horse and rider sneaking into the alley behind the doctor’s clinic. Corinthos. He’d spotted the outlaw creeping along the back streets, trying to stay hidden while the rest of his gang attacked the jail. Cooper could guess what the outlaw was up to. It was said the bandit never left a man behind. Or a witness.

The back door clicked open and Cooper caught sight of a second man, a cohort of Corinthos, running from the direction of the jail. Cooper ducked a split second before gunfire popped and two bullets thunked into the board not a foot away. With revolvers in hand, loaded and cocked, he fired. The outlaw fell, hand to his side. Looked like another patient for the doc.

Cooper threw open the back door, checking the corridor. Empty.

“Sheriff.” The doc’s voice rang out from the closest patient room. “What—”

“There’s an injured man out in the street.”

“I’ll get right to him.” The doc reached for his black bag sitting on a low table. “I didn’t hear anyone come in. Is something wrong?”

“Just stay out of the line of fire.” Cooper waited, listened. He heard the tap of footsteps around the corner, then a low threatening voice.

“Yep, you’re the one from the robbery. The one who gave me trouble. I just had to be sure.” That familiar voice, muffled by the wooden walls. “There’s a few women in this place. I’d hate to take out the wrong one.”

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