The Sheriff and the Miner's Daughter (Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs Book 4) Read online

  The Sheriff and the Miner’s Daughter

  By

  P. A. Estelle

  Book 4 - Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs series

  Copyright © 2017

  Penny Estelle writing as P. A. Estelle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Publishers Note: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events

  are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real

  people, places, or events is coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to

  The hard-working authors of the Sweet Americana Sweethearts

  blog who provide the world with sweet/clean historical romances about

  North Americans between 1820 and 1929.

  Prologue

  “Charley, this here necklace belonged to your mama. She’d sure ‘nough want you to have it. Besides you, my sweet Katie treasured it more than anything in this world.” He looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “You might want to keep it well hid, till you’ve got a few years on you. You don’t want it hanging around someone else’s neck.” She was only eight- years-old at the time but she remembered her papa’s words as if it were yesterday. It was the only thing he had left her before abandoning her at his wretched sister’s house in Fulton, Missouri. Charlene had cried and begged him to take her with him. “Please, Papa. I don’t want to stay here with Aunt Lucretia. I want to be with you.”

  “Charley, you listen and listen good. I’m going to find our fortune. Hear tell there’s gold nuggets as big as your fist in Colorado. Once I get up there and get my claim going I’ll send for ya. Now girl, that’s a promise and I’ll send you some money too.”

  That night she heard her papa and his sister screaming at each other. “I don’t want your brat living here. I don’t have money to raise her!” Aunt Lucretia had screeched.

  “I’ll send you money for her care. She can’t come with me till I’m settled.”

  “You better, Amos or your daughter will be living on the street!”

  Charlene heard the door slam. Her heart and her world broke in two. Tears ran down her cheeks as her father left her alone with a woman who didn’t want anything to do with her. That was sixteen years ago and she never heard another word from him.

  The next few years of her life were a combination of fear and hate. Lucretia’s gray hair was always wound in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her pinched lips and beady eyes would send chills down Charlene’s back.

  Her aunt was a bitter old maid who pinched every penny. Charlene was no more than a servant. Lucretia wouldn’t think twice about back-handing her if she didn’t like the way a task was performed or if she thought Charlene was being disrespectful, but the girl’s stubborn spirit wouldn’t let her aunt beat her down.

  Charlene thanked the good Lord every day for Bessie and Earl Janney and their son Donald. They were the only friends Charlene had and she came to love them like family. Bessie did the cooking for her aunt and Earl cared for the grounds and took care of the horses that were only used to pull the carriage. They lived in a small home behind the barn.

  When Donald wasn’t at school, he and Charlene spent a lot of time together. Though he was two years younger, he was the one that taught her to read and cipher. Earl took on the job of showing her how to ride and groom a horse. She loved being out in the barn and working along side of him. But it was Bessie who Charlene clung to with a tight emotional grip. She was like the mother that Charlene wanted so badly in her life. Her mother had died when she was six or so. Bessie jumped into the roll, loving the little girl. She taught her about cooking, sewing, and things a girl should know. She was the person Charlene could come to calm her fears or dry her tears.

  It was Charlene’s sixteenth birthday. There was a special noon meal of ham, mashed potatoes with thick brown gravy, and warm biscuits with apple butter. There was also apple pie, which was Charlene’s favorite. Even Aunt Lucretia was pleasant and bought her a store made dress. Charlene praised the dress and thanked Lucretia. She received a forced smile and a curt nod for her trouble. That afternoon she and Donald were able to take the horses and go riding. It felt glorious to let her hair blow in the wind and forget all her troubles.

  That evening Bessie found her crying her eyes out in her small bedroom. “Charlene, whatever in the world is wrong?”

  “My mother’s necklace is missing. I kept it under blankets in that old wooden chest and now it’s not there. I know she took it. I know it!” She and Bessie searched the room from top to bottom but the treasured necklace was nowhere to be found. “I hate her,” Charlene sobbed. “I wish she was dead!”

  Bessie was quick to shush her. “You know how important your aunt is on the board of the lunatic asylum.” Bessie spoke in a low whisper. “You don’t want to give her any reason to…” Bessie put her forehead against Charlene’s. “It just doesn’t pay to upset her. Now dry those tears. I’m sure that necklace will show up.”

  Lucretia Lehman was a respected member of the board of the Missouri State Lunatic Asylum, which had been established in eighteen fifty-one. She took particular delight in scaring a young Charlene with stories of patients in the hospital and giving underlying threats about how, with a quick signature, Charlene might find herself a resident there.

  As years went by Charlene became less and less intimidated by her aunt’s words. She was no longer the scared little girl. The skinny knocked-kneed, waif was now a shapely, beautiful young woman. Her hair was the golden color of a wheat field in the early morning sun. Soft curls cascaded down her back to her waist. Thick black lashes framed light blue, almost translucent eyes.

  Because Charlene retained a position as a clerk in the Missouri School For the Deaf, she was able to buy material and make clothes that fit her instead of the things Aunt Lucretia thought were proper. Her confidence soared.

  She had saved a sizable amount of money, but nowhere near what was needed to be on her own and out from underneath her aunt’s abuse. Charlene had put her money in the Fulton Bank, but that evening, Donald wanted her to join him and his parents so she could meet the young lady he was interested in. “This is the girl that is going to be my wife. Charlene, I want you two to become friends. Try not to be late.”

  Charlene rushed home from work. She left her purse on the dresser and quickly freshened up and hurried over to Bessie and Earl’s house. Donald’s intended was Victoria Mott. Her family had a farm a few miles out of town. The main crop was corn, but there was also a small apple orchard. “Her father also wants to try his hand in cattle,” Donald said. “It won’t be long before I will be able to help him with that.”

  Victoria’s face burned red. She was not a girl one would call beautiful, but her warm brown eyes and infectious laugh made her instantly likable. She was not shy and was quick to banter back and forth with Donald. It was easy to see the love Donald and Victoria had for each other.

  Walking back to her aunt’s house that night, Charlene couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever be able to find that kind of happiness.

  The next morning Charlene woke up to the sun shining in her window. She never slept this late. She co
uld hear Bessie in the kitchen, the banging of pots calling her to get out of bed and help. As she stretched she noticed her purse on the dresser was open. An anxious feeling came over her. She got up and looked inside to find her weekly pay was gone. It was nowhere in her purse nor had it fallen out onto the floor.

  Her heart started to pound as a fury she had never felt washed over her. In her nightdress, she flew out of her room and bounded upstairs to her aunt’s bedroom. Without knocking, she threw the door open. Lucretia was already up and sitting in a chair by a window, drinking tea. Her health had been deteriorating and she was much slower getting around.

  Startled, she spilled some tea on her white robe. “How dare you! What do you think—“

  Charlene took two steps toward her aunt. It was gratifying to see a hint of fear in the old woman’s eyes. “Where is it? Where did you put my money you stole from my purse?”

  The old woman’s eyes widened and she looked wildly at the open door. Charlene went to the chest of drawers and started rifling through each one as her aunt shrieked at her to get out. Charlene froze after opening the last drawer.

  “Call the authorities. I want her arrested this instant!”

  “Charlene, what are you doing?” A horrified Bessie stood in the doorway. She had run upstairs when all the commotion started.

  Charlene pulled out a large stack of letters. They were all addressed to her. Fourteen years of letters from her father and she had never seen one of them. Tears blurred her vision as she pulled out the blue sapphire necklace that was her mothers. She looked at her aunt. “Why would you do this? I could have loved you.” She took a step closer and her voice got louder. “Why did you hate me so much?”

  Lucretia’s eyes narrowed, spitting hate at the girl. “Because you are part of her! You look just like her! Amos adored your mother and would do anything she asked. My parents loved her more than me, their own daughter. It was her fault they moved. She wanted to make a new life in Iowa, so they just up and left. He left me to take care of mother and father when their health failed.” Lucretia took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her chair. “Kathleen stole my family from me.”

  Charlene shook her head. “We could have been a family.”

  “I was delighted when I heard your mother had died. Why would I want any part of her as family?”

  Charlene said nothing for a few seconds and then went and stood right in front of her aunt’s chair. Steely blue eyes stared down at her. “Where is my money?” She asked in a slow, unfeeling tone.

  With shaky hands, Lucretia reached into the pocket of her robe and threw the money on the floor. Charlene picked it up and started out the door. “How long do you think you will keep your position at the deaf school when I tell them of this treatment? I can have you arrested.”

  She stopped at door, turning. “You deserve to be alone. You deserve to die alone.”

  There was a tremor in Lucretia’s voice when she told Bessie to stay and clean up the things that had been thrown from the drawers. Bessie’s glare bored into the old woman. Lucretia said nothing as the door shut, leaving her alone in the room.

  The Sheriff and the Miner’s Daughter

  Charlene heaved a sigh of relief when the conductor hollered they would be pulling into Jubilee Springs shortly. She couldn’t decide which was worse. The loud click clack and bouncing of the train, the billowing black smoke, and soot that seeped into the cars, the hard benches, or the inane conversations of some women who were traveling to Jubilee Springs as mail order brides. The tittering and giggling of the ladies were giving her a splitting headache. How many times did they say, “I wonder if mine will be handsome?” “I hope mine is kind.” “I hope mine wants children.” And on and on and on.

  She looked out the window, watching the rolling hills and mountains go by. Truth be told, maybe she was jealous of these women. If an opportunity like this had come her way, would she have jumped at the chance? Probably so. At least then she wouldn’t be looking over her shoulder afraid of being apprehended and carted off to jail. Though she did nothing but take what was hers, she wouldn't put anything past her aunt.

  All the letters from her father had come from Jubilee Springs, Colorado, the last one was posted a little over two years ago. It was a gamble, but Charlene went to the bank and withdrew her money, quit her job and packed the small amount of clothes she owned. She was going to find her father.

  It had been a tearful goodbye. Bessie begged her to stay. Said it was too dangerous, but Charlene had no other choice. Earl hitched up the barouche and Donald drove her to Jefferson City to catch a train to Colorado. She hugged them all fiercely, sobbing and promising to write when she got off the train.

  “Are you a mail order bride?”

  Charlene jumped, brought back to the present. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  She was a plump, middle-aged woman with pretty brown hair, tied in a loose chignon. “Are you going to Jubilee Springs? Are you hoping to find a husband?”

  “No, uhm..I..I have family...I mean…my father is there.” Charlene stuttered, looking everywhere by at the kindly woman.

  “Oh!” The woman sat down next to her. “Does he work with The Prosperity Mine?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” Charlene looked down in her lap and played with the hem of her blouse. “I just recently found out he lived in Jubilee Springs. I am praying he still does.”

  The woman covered Charlene’s hands with her own. “I hope so, too. I’m Josephine Jacobs. My Burt used to call me Joey.”

  “I’m Charlene Lehman and my father used to call me Charley!” Both women burst out laughing. “Do you and Burt live in Jubilee Springs?”

  “My Burt up and died on me a year ago.” For just a second, Charlene saw a sadness flitter across Josephine’s face but then was replaced with a smile. “I’m with this flock of hens over here.” She pointed to a woman with a no-nonsense look about her. “That is Lizette Millard. She is the one that is here to help us find husbands.”

  Charlene’s blue eyes opened wide. “You are a mail order bride?” The second the words were out of her mouth, her face burned to the roots of her hair. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me. I just thought younger…”

  “Now don’t take on so.” Josephine’s brown eyes crinkled when she smiled. “The owners of this Prosperity Mine wants wives for their miners. Claim to have men of all ages looking for women to marry them.” She sat back on the hard bench. “When Burt died I couldn’t keep it up. We were not blessed with children so had nobody to help me. I lost the farm and had no place to go. When I heard about this opportunity I decided to try it. I’m hopeful I find a good man to spend the rest of my life with.”

  The train whistle shrilled loudly and they lunged forward as the train put on its brakes. The women stood when they came to a stop. Charlene looked back at the women. The giggling and constant chatter had stopped. Trepidation was clear in all their eyes, including her own. Her heart was pounding and her feet wouldn’t move.

  Josephine put her arm through Charlene’s. “Let’s go find our new lives.”

  * * * *

  Jim Hawkins watched as the train pulled into the depot. The first group of women would probably be coming in today. Jim had been sheriff of Jubilee Springs going on eight years and he had felt a little bit of apprehension when Clive Bainbridge had come to him with his plan. He and his brother, Royce, had been the sole owners of Prosperity Mine for three years. Clive’s idea was to try and get some women to come and marry up with some of his men.

  “This town was built on mining, Jim,” Clive had said. “If we want Jubilee Springs to grow and prosper we need families here. If my men up and leave because there are no decent women, my mine, and your town are going to wither away.”

  “You figure wives will do all that?” Jim chuckled.

  “That’s my plan. You have a young daughter that needs a mother. This could be a good thing for you, too. You want me to throw your name in the mix?” Clive asked. />
  “Leave me out of it,” Jim said throwing his hands in the air. “Sally and I are doing just fine.”

  That conversation had been months ago and Clive, being the serious brother, wasted no time putting his idea into action and placed an ad in Denver for mail order brides.

  Jim laughed as Royce Bainbridge, the younger brother, ran passed him, slapping him on the back and yelled over his shoulder, “I’ve got women to meet!” Of the two brothers, Royce was easily the friendliest. He knew how to put anybody at ease and make them feel right at home.

  A group of women slowly emerged from the train. From where Jim stood, they looked to be terrified, all standing in a huddle. Tall, short, blondes, and brunettes, shapely, thin, and one looked like she hadn’t missed too many meals. When Royce approached and started talking to them the fear seemed to disappear, at least from where Jim was standing.

  Jim leaned against the hitching post, crossing his arms. Shadows were growing longer as the sun started to sink in the west. Even though it was almost July, once that sun went down a chill would settle in because Jubilee Springs was high in the mountains.

  Royce was bending his six-foot frame over talking to a shapely young woman when he looked up at Jim and pointed at him. The woman started his way. She had blonde hair that shined in the dwindling sun. It was parted in the middle and a ponytail hung down her back. She wore a blue blouse with a vee-shaped bodice and long sleeves that were tight around her wrists and a matching skirt with a ruffle on the bottom. She carried only one bag with her.

  “Sheriff?”

  He tipped his black hat. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  Charlene swallowed. “I am looking for Amos Lehman.”

  Jim, taken by surprise, let his mouth fall open and his dark brown eyes opened wide. He looked her over before finding his tongue. “You traveled with those women?”

  “We were on the same train, yes.”