Free West (History Interrupted Book 1) by Lizzy Ford Page A

definitely thank Carter for sending me to John. If John considered a year of a man’s wages pocket change, I understood why every landowner was in town to court me.
    In suits, bowties and some with top hats. I studied those we drove by, curious about their dress and mannerisms. A couple of them bowed while nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to stare.
    “None of them are particularly handsome,” I mused. I was never much a fan of beards, and most of the men here had them.
    “They are not,” Nell agreed. “You can find a much wealthier man when we head to the city.”
    I snorted, the defensive nanny endearing. With this many people, though, how was I supposed to find the person I sought? Could my empathic memory process everyone?
    “The sheriff isn’t here,” I murmured. “I guess he isn’t interested in my hand.”
    Nell gave me a look of reproach. “He is not only poor, but is half savage and proudly claims them as kin . ”
    “Trust me – I want nothing to do with him. But he’s a lot easier on the eyes.”
    “Quiet now, Miss Josie. You must not entertain such thoughts about a man like that,” she warned. “He is lucky the soiled doves take him, but he will never have a wife, especially not one of your station.”
    “Soiled doves?”
    Nell raised her chin towards one side of the street. I looked and gasped. Women stood in front of a two story wooden bordello, their manner of being half-dressed leaving me no question as to the kind of establishment it was.
    “It’s a brothel!” I exclaimed. “A real live, Old West brothel! Outstanding! We’ve got to talk to them, Nell.”
    “Enough of your jests, Miss Josephine.” The note of mild alarm was enough to tell me that my nanny was at her wit’s end.
    Disappointed yet fascinated by the women of the night, I didn’t take my eyes off them until Nell pulled to a halt.
    It was then I noticed the sheriff, leaning against the wall of his office, watching us with hard green eyes. He appeared relaxed, his wiry body robed in worn clothing with patches on his pants and shirt. He was too hard for me to pity, but I wondered if there was a part of him that was bothered by the fact he was isolated from pretty much everyone. I didn’t imagine he had many friends since he was half-Indian and sent men to the gallows every week. His eyes stood out in a face rendered tanned from his time in the sun. He wore a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
    That is one sexy cowboy, I thought, unable to look away. Had I ever seen anyone else pull off the standoffish sexiness and quiet strength? I knew a conversation with him was not going to go well, but there was something compelling about his combination of outdoor ruggedness and intensity.
    If he didn’t go around hanging people ... In the sea of men with black suits, he alone stood out. The movement of someone dressed in browns caught my attention, and my gaze went to a small group of natives gathered at the edge of town.
    The Native American who was with the sheriff this morning was present, and I resisted the urge to interrogate him about where exactly he found me.
    I concentrated on him but was too far to read anything about him the way I had Nell.
    “Are we going there?” I asked, indicating a small market at the edge of town.
    “Indian and local goods?” Nell shook her head firmly. “We only buy European goods and those brought here from Boston. It’s not fitting for a woman of your station to be seen at an Indian market.”
    “Nell.” I sighed. “Please? I really want to go see.”
    “See what?”
    “What I missed while gone.”
    Nell pursed her lips together but parked the carriage close to the edge of town, in front of a tailor’s shop.
    I managed to get out of the carriage with some grace and brushed the wrinkles out of the dress Nell probably spent hours ironing. She handed me a pouch that jingled, an indication they thought my sense present enough to give me some money. I observed the downtown area with a