The Sheriff's Sweetheart Read Online Free Page B

he screeched, and leveled his pistol straight at Brookfield’s chest.
    Sam fired before he even had time to think about it, neatly shooting the pistol from the drunkard’s hands. Perry’s bullet went wild, embedding itself in the wall beyond.
    The man yelled, dropping his pistol and clutching his hand. Staring at Brookfield, who had now regained his balance, he cried in horror, “There’s the real sheriff! Nick, did I shoot ya? Why’d ya have to creep up on me from behind like that? Are ya all right, partner?”
    â€œI’m fine, Delbert,” Nick assured him, though his face hadn’t entirely regained its color yet. “Now turn around and raise your hands in the air, and tell Sheriff Bishop you’re sorry for raising such a ruckus on his first day here.”
    Sam stared as Perry, meek as a lamb now, did exactly as Nick told him. “S-sorry, S-Sheriff. Reckon I j-jes’ had too much t’ drink.”
    Another man, wearing an apron and clutching a dingy dishcloth, crawled out from behind the bar. “Thanks,” he said to both of them. “Nice t’meet you, Sheriff Bishop. Welcome.” Then he stared glumly at the damage around him. “Guess I’m gonna have to cut him off after two drinks—not two bottles—from now on.”
    â€œMeet George Detwiler, proprietor of this fine establishment,” Nick said, walking up behind Perry and pulling his wrists into the come-along he took out of his back pocket. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that, Bishop?”
    â€œI used to shoot squirrels out of the trees growing up in Tennessee.” Brookfield didn’t need to know it was sometimes all he and his sisters had to eat.
    â€œI’m much obliged. That could have ended much worse. Perry’s fingertips are merely grazed. I’ll take him by Doctor Walker’s and have him bandaged up before taking him on to jail.”
    â€œNo, he’s my responsibility,” Sam said. He may not have come here for the job, but he’d taken it on, and now he had to live up to the oath he’d sworn only hours ago.
    â€œThere’s no need. I’m sure you’d probably like to tidy up a bit before you present yourself at the mayor’s house. Go on back to your quarters, and I’ll watch over Perry till you’re finished with supper.”
    â€œBut you must want to get back to the ranch and your wife,” Sam protested, feeling guilty because he longed to take Nick up on his offer. “Go on home. It’s my job now.” He glanced at the drunken man, who stood with his hands shackled, gentle as a newborn colt and about as unsteady.
    Nick Brookfield only smiled. “You just saved my life, Bishop. Believe me, my Milly won’t mind if I show up a few hours later because I’m doing you a favor. Besides, I want to have a talk with Perry about the Lord.”
    Sam blinked, sure he’d misunderstood the Englishman. “You want to talk to him about God?”
    â€œIndeed I do. We’ve had those talks before, haven’t we, Delbert?”
    Perry nodded and grinned as if he and the Englishman were the best of friends. “’Bout how th’ good Lord loves me and has a better way for me to live, right, Sheriff Brookfield? Well, come on then, I’m ready.”
    Sam felt his jaw drop. Brookfield wanted to spend more time with this drunken fool and talk religion with him?
    He shrugged. Far be it from him to tell Brookfield he was wasting his time trying to cure a drinking man of drink, by talking about God.
    As far as Bishop was concerned, the Lord didn’t have much to do with anything. Never did, never would. But he just thanked Brookfield and went on his way.

Chapter Three
    H ouston dozed in Prissy’s room in a wide, flat basket lined with an old towel that Antonio had found for Prissy in the barn. To look at the sleeping dog now, it was hard to believe how fast he had scampered