The Mercantile Owner's Bride Page 7

She should have given herself up in the beginning; the punishment might not have been so bad. And what of Edward’s reputation in the town? Married to a wanted woman, a criminal.

  Phoebe stood outside momentarily, taking in deep breaths, preparing herself for the worst.

  Her loving husband opened the door, then guided her gently inside.

  “Sit down,” Sheriff Doyle said, indicating the chairs in front of his well-worn desk.

  Phoebe put her hands out in front of her ready to be handcuffed.

  The sheriff laughed, and she took offence at his insolence.

  “I’m ready to go to jail,” she said in a quiet voice. “But I’d like to pack a bag first.”

  He looked sternly at Edward. “You don’t need to be here, but I can understand you wanting to.”

  She looked up at her husband who straightened his shoulders. “I am not going anywhere Sheriff.”

  “Please yourself.”

  He turned to Phoebe. “I’ve made some enquiries about your situation,” he said, glancing at each of them. “Got the Westlake Sheriff to check out your story.”

  Phoebe swallowed and forced back a sob.

  “What you told Edward about the Burlesque was true,” he said. “They were using it to force young women to become prostitutes. Soiled doves.”

  “You told him?” she accused her husband, but he only tightened his grip on her.

  Sheriff Doyle leaned toward her and she cringed. “Because of you, both the Burlesque and the Gentleman’s Club have been closed down. Mr Grayson is in jail.”

  Her lips quivered. Could it really be true?

  “What is going to happen to me,” she asked quietly, her voice breaking.

  The sheriff leaned back in his seat. “To you? You did nothing wrong and are free to go.” He smiled, but Phoebe wasn’t sure there was anything to smile about.

  “What about the contract I had with Mr Grayson?” Her eyes strayed from the sheriff to her husband.

  Edward squeezed her shoulder tight.

  Sheriff Doyle shoved his chair back and stood. “It’s invalid. It was never legal. He’s broken so many laws he’ll be in jail for a very long time.”

  “Phoebe,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “You have no idea how many young women you’ve saved. Because of you, we were able to rescue dozens of young women who had been forced into prostitution. Running away was a courageous thing to do. You should be congratulated for doing it.”

  Edward pulled her into his arms and held her tight. Her relief was so palpable tears rolled down her cheeks. Her legs went so weak, she could barely hold herself up, and before she knew it, Edward had lifted her and started back to the Mercantile.

  He turned back as he stepped out of the Sheriff’s Office, his hand outstretched. “Thank you, Sheriff,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”

  “Knowing Phoebe is safe here in Dayton Falls is the only thanks I need.”

  Edward nodded and carried his beautiful wife home.

  * * *

  Phoebe finished the last of her baking and left it to cool.

  Edward was busy in the store – she could hear him talking to customers. The little bell was tinkling constantly.

  He’d been right, offering baked goods again had been a boon to the store.

  She entered the store, her hands full with this morning’s baking efforts, to see a group of town’s people staring at her. There were even a few men.

  It startled her.

  “What’s on offer today, Mrs Horvard,” Mr Carson asked. “I want to surprise my wife.”

  She smiled. “What a lovely gesture, Mr Carson,” she said, and genuinely meant it. “I have apple muffins, and pound cake in this batch. Upstairs cooling are cookies and carrot cake.”

  He stretched his neck to see. “I’ll take six apple muffins,” he said. “Before someone else beats me to it.”

  Edward took the plate from Phoebe and placed six muffins in a brown paper bag, then pulled her close to his side. “She’s a great cook, my wife,” he said proudly.

  Phoebe felt the heat creep up her face, but was pleased to be so well thought of, not only by her husband who doted on her, but also by others.

  “I’ll take the other six,” Mrs Carlisle said quickly. “I hate baking,” she whispered to Phoebe.

  The bell over the door tinkled and all the customers turned to see who was joining them. “Good morning, Mrs Samuel,” Edward said, looking the very pregnant woman over. “Should you be out and about in your condition?”

  She lived right across the road behind the Barber’s Shop, but still, it would have been an effort.

  Phoebe snatched up a chair for her to sit on. “Does Mr Samuel know you’re here,” she asked, concerned for her friend.

  “I’m sure he saw me totter over,” she said, almost smiling. “I have a list of supplies I need before our baby arrives.” She patted her belly. “And Phoebe, can I get some of your baked goods? Charlie loves cakes and muffins.”

  Finally, after all these years of living, Phoebe felt she had found her calling and found the love of her life.

  Epilogue

  Ten months later…

  “Seriously Phoebe,” Edward said assertively. “You need to stop.”

  She glared at him.

  “Please,” he begged. “Sit down. Have a rest. I can finish stacking these shelves.”

  “Just because I am with child, doesn’t mean I’m an invalid.” She pouted at him as she did every time she didn’t get her own way.

  He threw his arms up in the air. “Fine.” Instead of arguing further, he leaned down and picked up the remainder of the stock she was packing.

  “Hey! I need those.” She stood with her hands on her hips.

  He frowned. His wife would be the death of him – she was too independent for her own good.

  She pushed the chair away. “Honestly, you’re fussing for nothing.”

  She turned to walk away from him. “Oh, oh, no!”

  Phoebe floundered and he reached for her. “What is it?” he asked, his face aching from worry.

  She didn’t say a word but pointed to the floor.

  Panic rose up his chest, and his heart pounded. He started pacing the floor trying to think. “Waters broke,” he muttered under his breath. “What should I do?” He continued to pace.

  “Edward,” she said assertively. “Go and get Doc Grogan. I’ll go and lay down.”

  He started out the door then quickly turned back. “Oh no you don’t. You can’t do that alone.” He took her arm and gently helped her into the residence, and onto the bed. “You stay there, and don’t move!”

  He gazed down at her laying on the bed, knowing he would soon be a father. “Phoebe,” he said. “I love you more than life itself.” He kneeled on the bed next to her and kissed her. “I’ll be back shortly.

  It seemed to take an eternity to reach the doctor’s office, and he was panting when he got there. “Doc,” he said between pants. “Phoebe’s waters broke.”

  Doc Grogan grabbed his bag and headed to the Mercantile. “You round up Mrs Jensen. I’m going to need her help.”

  Edward did as he was told, then returned to the Mercantile where he was exiled for the duration of the birth, much to his disgust.

  He sat outside the Mercantile, listening to Phoebe’s screams, until he could take no more. He took himself over to the Barber’s Shop.

  “Haircut,” Charlie Samuel asked. “Or a refuge from the screams?”

  “Both,” Edward said, closing the door behind him, praying his amazing wife survived her ordeal.

  * * *

  Edward held his baby son close to his chest.

  “Joshua Brennan Horvard,” he said quietly. “You have an amazing mama.”

  He’d always been such a strong man. A man who would fight to the death for his wife if necessary. But today he’d been brought to tears both at the pain his darling Phoebe had endured, and at meeting his beautiful son.
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br />   He leaned in and kissed Joshua’s forehead gently and the baby began to cry. “Here, you take him,” he said, shoving Joshua back toward Phoebe.

  Exhausted, she still managed to grin. “He’s probably hungry,” she said gently, attaching the baby to her breast for a feed.

  The crying stopped immediately.

  “Phoebe,” Edward said, his voice breaking. “Thank you for this amazing gift of a son.” He wiped a tear from his eyes. “And for coming into my life. I can’t imagine life without you.”

  “I love you too,” she said quietly as she drifted off to sleep.

  He sat quietly on the side of the bed and watched the baby feed as his mother slept. He hoped there would be many more babies to come.

  THE END

  From the Author

  Thank you so much for reading my book – I hope you enjoyed it.

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  Brides of Montana is another historical romance series that may interest you. You can check it out here.

  About the Author

  Multi-published, award-winning author, Cheryl Wright, former secretary, debt collector, account manager, writing coach, and shopping tour hostess, loves reading.

  She writes both contemporary and historical western romance, as well as romantic suspense.

  She lives in Melbourne, Australia, and is married with two adult children and has six grandchildren. When she’s not writing, she can be found in her craft room making greeting cards.

  Check out Cheryl’s Amazon page for a full list of her other books.

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