Corsets and Cuffs: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 3) Read online

  Baker City Brides, Book 3

  A Sweet Historical Western Romance

  by

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  Corsets and Cuffs

  Copyright © 2016 by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  [email protected]

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chocolate Macaroons

  Author’s Note

  Excerpt Chapter One

  Books by Shanna Hatfield

  About the Author

  Sheriff Tully Barrett never knew trouble had such a pretty face.

  Brianna Dumont never knew the law could be so handsome and hardheaded.

  Pampered and privileged, Brianna Dumont escapes the life she’s always known in an effort to clear her father’s good name. She arrives in Baker City, Oregon, intent on selling her father’s shares in a mine. Only the mine is a bust, her father’s partner is a crusty ol’ coot who hates women, and the sheriff in town is determined to keep her behind bars.

  With good friends around him, a small ranch of his own, and a fulfilling job as sheriff, Tully Barrett loves his life. Then an exasperating woman shows up, making demands and driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tries to ignore her brains and beauty, she works her way under his skin.

  Corsets and Cuffs captures the fun-loving banter of two strong-willed characters determined not to fall in love in this sweet historical romance.

  To the little heroes

  with the biggest hearts…

  Chapter One

  Baker City, Oregon

  June 1891

  “Flames better be shooting from the buildings in town, a dead body sprawled in the street, and a wall blown off the bank by a gang of robbers, or you’re gonna have to come up with some goldurn dandy reason for dragging me away from Ian and Maggie’s wedding.” Sheriff Tully Barrett glared at his deputy as they walked away from the festive gathering to celebrate the marriage of two good friends.

  “Now, Tully, don’t go blaming poor Dugan,” Thane Jordan said, slapping Tully on the back as they hurried into the heart of town. “Obviously, your presence is needed back at your office or he wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  Deputy Dugan Durfey tossed Thane a grateful nod. “That’s right, boss. I’d rather do just about anything than make you leave Maggie and Ian’s reception. But there’s a woman fresh off the train who um…” Dugan struggled to find the right words to say. “She’s um…”

  “Go on, Dugan. She’s what?” Tully stopped and waited for his deputy to speak.

  “She’s about as worked up as I’ve ever seen a female and you know I’ve seen more than my share in this line of work. She demanded I bring you to the office. Her exact words were, ‘I insist on speaking to the imbecile in charge of maintaining law and order in this horrid, reprehensible, backwater town.’” Aggrieved, Dugan shook his head. “Believe me, Tully, I tried to speak with her, but she plopped herself down at your desk and refused to move. Then that other couple came in asking after Thane, so I thought it best to fetch you both.”

  “It’s okay, Dugan,” Thane said, offering the haggard deputy an encouraging look. “Tully’s pouting because he might miss out on a few dances with some of the sweet young things who constantly vie for his attentions. His absence might give the young bucks in town a chance to win their affections.”

  Tully glowered at his best friend as they resumed their walk to the jail. Dugan opened the door and held it as Tully and Thane preceded him inside.

  Five voices combined in a discordant symphony as they stepped into the office and looked around.

  A woman did indeed sit at Tully’s desk, arguing with the other deputy. An older couple engaged in a lively exchange with one of the grocers, discussing the finer points of lettuce versus cabbage.

  Engrossed in their conversations, the occupants of the sheriff’s office failed to notice the three men staring at them from just inside the doorway.

  Tully whistled loud enough to crack glass, drawing their attention. “What in thunderation is going on in here?” His rich baritone voice boomed off the walls as silence descended over the room.

  Sooner than anyone could offer an explanation, Thane stepped forward and pumped the hand of the older man standing near the grocer. “Greenfield! What in the heck are you doing here?” He lifted the man’s plump wife in an enthusiastic hug and kissed her cheek. “Jemma and the kids will be so happy to see you.”

  “Righty ho, my good man.” Edwin Greenfield smiled and put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Hattie and I missed Jemma and the youngsters so intensely that we decided to pay a visit. I realize our arrival comes as a shock, but we hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. You’re just in time to enjoy some delicious cake and punch. Our friends wed this afternoon, but the celebration hasn’t quite wound down. They’ll be thrilled to meet you.” Thane motioned toward the door. “Do you have trunks that need to be picked up from the depot?”

  Edwin nodded. “We do have several trunks, but they’re safe in the ticket office for the moment.”

  As though he suddenly remembered the others in the office, Thane turned to the sheriff. “Tully, this is Edwin and Hattie Greenfield. They were the butler and cook back at Jemma’s cottage in England. In truth, they were the glue that kept everything together and they made my stay in Bolton very enjoyable.”

  “And here I thought it was your beautiful wife that made you reluctant to return home to America,” Tully teased, tipping his hat to the couple. “I’m Sheriff Tully Barrett. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Thane and Jemma have spoken highly of you. Welcome to Baker City.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Edwin said, politely bowing as Hattie dipped into a well-practiced curtsey.

  Thane took Hattie’s elbow in his hand and escorted the couple to the door. “Let’s go. Jemma will be beside herself to see you. Lily will beg you to make her some decent marmalade. And wait until you hear Jack’s western twang.”

  Tul
ly watched as they left, pleased Jemma and the children were in for a grand surprise. He could almost hear little Lily’s squeals of excitement when she saw her beloved friends from England.

  Intent on ignoring the woman at his desk as she shot furious daggers at him with her unsettling blue eyes, he turned to the grocer. “Is there something I can do for you, Irwin?”

  “I need to report a theft. Deputy Harter started to write a report, but we kept getting interrupted.” The grocer subtly tipped his head to the irate woman. “I set a few small baskets of strawberries along with early garden peas and potatoes that came in this morning in front of my store. I placed them where I could keep my eye on them, to let people know they were available. Right before the train arrived, I glanced outside and they were all gone.”

  Tully thought the grocer was just tempting someone to steal his produce by leaving it outside unattended, but managed to refrain from voicing his opinions. “You didn’t see anyone running off with the berries or potatoes?”

  The grocer frowned. “No sir. There was nary a body in sight when I rushed outside. It was as if my produce disappeared into thin air. One minute the baskets were there. I rang up a few things for Mrs. Palmer, and when I glanced back outside, the baskets were gone.”

  “We’ll see what we can find out, Irwin. Go on back to your store and we’ll let you know if anything turns up.” Tully settled a hand on the grocer’s shoulder and walked him out the door.

  As soon as the man left, he turned and settled the weight of his gaze on the woman. If she hadn’t been scowling so fiercely, she might have been extremely pretty.

  Tendrils of golden brown hair escaped the confines of her fashionable upswept hairdo, topped with a pale gray boater bedecked with enough ribbons, silk flowers and plumes to decorate three hats. A dark blue traveling suit appeared as richly embellished as her hat, dripping with beading and expensive trims. Smooth, creamy skin and blue eyes full of fire might have drawn his interest if she hadn’t been so irate and clearly unreasonable.

  Her angry countenance prodded his bad humor.

  For the most part, Tully was an easy-going, jovial tease. However, once someone stirred his temper, it was generally something to behold and impossible to harness until it had run its course.

  “What was so all-fired important you felt the need to demand an audience with me?” he asked, moving to stand next to the chair she occupied. When she rose to her feet, he towered over her by nearly a foot.

  Deliberately, he widened his stance and crossed his arms across his muscled chest. The move had intimidated hundreds of people over the years. He hoped it would send the woman running out the door in fright.

  Instead, she continued to glower at him in silence.

  Incensed by her attempt to control the situation, he stared back at her. “I reckon you didn’t have any problem speaking your mind before I walked in here, so say your piece. What do you need?”

  The woman tipped back her head and blinked at him twice, as though she gauged whether he was worthy of her time.

  Out of patience, he leaned toward her. The faint hint of something soft and floral tickled his nose, further infuriating him. “Spit it out, woman! I haven’t got all day.”

  Both deputies stared at him, taken aback by his gruff demeanor. Under normal circumstances, Tully would have used his most charming smile on the woman, teased her into a good mood, and finagled a meal with her if she was single and unattached.

  Nonetheless, nothing about the afternoon’s circumstances had been even remotely close to typical.

  When the woman finally spoke, fury laced her tone. “I’ll thank you, Sheriff, to maintain civilities, even in this barbaric town. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to see cavedwellers dragging their women through the streets, considering the impudence I’ve experienced since setting foot off that filthy train.”

  Tully sighed in frustration. “Get to the point, ma’am. I’ve got better things to do than stand around and listen to you slander my home.”

  “It’s not slander when the words are true,” she said, raising her nose in the air with a disdainful sniff. “While I spoke with the peevish ticket agent at the train station, some despicable purloiner stole my bag. It is of the utmost importance that you find it.”

  A snort burst out of Tully before he could stop it. “Sorry, your highness, but the probability of your bag turning up is slim to none. I’d have to assume you brought several trunks along, so I’m sure you won’t miss whatever was in it.”

  The woman’s anger rolled over him in a palpable wave that nearly threw him off balance. Indignant, she huffed, setting the plumes on her hat to bobbing. Tully lifted his chin to keep one of the pink feathers from batting him in the face.

  “I assure you, I have only one trunk and my bag. The trunk is with the ticket agent, but the bag is essential to my future livelihood. I must insist you do everything in your power to retrieve it.”

  “Fine. File a report and we’ll investigate the theft.” Tully started to turn away but a small, gloved hand on his arm tugged his gaze back to the woman. Brief as the contact was, her touch left him ill at ease and even more on edge.

  “Please, Sheriff? Would you see to the recovery of my belongings yourself? Not that I don’t trust your deputies.” She glanced at the two men as they leaned against a desk across the room and offered them a coquettish smile. “Nevertheless, this matter requires your expertise and supreme discretion.”

  Tully cocked an eyebrow and rocked back on one hip. “What’s in that bag of yours? What, exactly, requires the utmost discretion, as you put it?”

  “It’s a delicate topic that should be handled with prudence and care.”

  Another sigh rolled out of his broad chest and he sank onto the chair at his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a form, slapping it on top of the scarred wooden surface of the desk. The tip of his tongue moistened the end of the pencil he picked up then held poised above the paper, prepared to write.

  “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  She stiffened. “It most certainly isn’t darlin’ or darling. Must you address me with such familiarity and improper speech?”

  Summoning the last bit of patience he possessed, Tully tamped down the urge to snatch the woman’s hat off her self-righteous head and stomp it beneath his boots. “Your name, please. I need your name for my report, Mrs.…?”

  “It’s miss. Miss Dumont.”

  Tully wrote her last name on the report then glanced at her again. “First name?”

  “Surely that is unnecessary for your report. You certainly won’t be referring to me by my first name. Miss Dumont will suffice.”

  “Have it your way.” Tully scribbled something on the paper. “What does your bag look like?” He refused to acknowledge the woman as she settled herself into the straight-back chair on the other side of his desk.

  “Brown leather. It’s fairly new. It’s about this size.” Miss Dumont held her hands out in front of her, indicating a large bag. “The clasp and buckles are brass and it has the initials G. A. D. on the front.”

  “Gad? What’s that stand for?” Tully looked up at her and caught a glimmer of tears in those intriguing blue eyes before she chased the emotion away.

  “My father’s initials.”

  Tully nodded, writing the information on the form. “Is there anything attached to the bag or inside it with your name or address?”

  “Yes. There are a few letters from my father’s mine partner.”

  “Mine partner?” Tully pinned her with a glare. “Your father has a mine partner in the area?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m here. I came to check on his holdings. Once I’ve concluded the business affairs are in order, I will eagerly leave this town.” Warily avoiding his gaze, she fussed with her gloves.

  The woman was withholding information, of that he was certain. Tully didn’t trust her any further than he could throw an angry bull. “What’s the partner’s name? I know most of the miners around these
parts.”

  “Mr. Clive Fisher. He and my father have been business associates for three years.”

  Chuckles he hadn’t meant to release escaped, incurring the woman’s wrathful glower.

  “What, precisely, is so amusing to you, Sheriff?”

  “Oh, nothing at all, ma’am.” Tully wished he could be there to see the look on prissy Miss Dumont’s face the moment she encountered the grizzled old miner. The only thing Clive Fisher hated more than taking a bath was women. “Let’s get back to your report. I need a detailed list of the contents of the bag.”

  Much to his astonishment, Miss Dumont’s cheeks turned pink and she dropped her gaze to her lap again. “You see, um… that’s to say, the contents are of a nature that one does not…”

  “Either you tell me what’s in that bag, or I wad this paper up and stuff it in the stove.” Tully pointed to a pot-bellied stove in a corner of the room. Although the heat of the day prohibited a fire burning in it, the threat sounded good.

  She nodded, causing the plumes on her hat to attempt an escape by flapping away. “In addition to the letters I mentioned from Mr. Fisher, you’ll find a family Bible, and a copy of Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott. The bag also contained a hair brush and hand mirror, my toothbrush and a tin of tooth powder, a bottle of French perfume, and a nightdress.”

  Miss Dumont folded her hands on her lap and sat so straight, Tully wondered how she could maintain such a formal posture. He leaned back in the chair and tapped the pencil on his desk. “So your future livelihood depends on keeping your teeth clean, or is it finishing that book you were reading?”

  Bristling, the woman looked as though she’d dearly love to reach across the desk and slap him.

  He’d like to see her try. “What else is in the bag, Miss Dumont?”

  A long moment passed before she nodded once in resignation. When she opened her mouth to speak, Tully leaned forward with a threatening glare.

  “No more of your nonsense about tooth powder and books. Either you tell me the truth, or I’ll toss you out the door.”