Authors: Sandra Anderson
THE
SHERIFF’S
DAUGHTER
ZeusPublishin
g
, California
An imprint of Detroit House LLC
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A Detroit House Book / Published by arrangement with authors
Copyright 2016 by Detroit House LLC
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PUBLISHING HISTORY
Version_1
DH mass-market edition/2016
Cover Images: by Petra Vertinen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
It was January so it was cold in Gaffney South Dakota but that was not out of the ordinary because except for a July, August and few weeks on either side, it was frigid. I lived above the sheriff’s office, which included the jail. A girl couldn’t ask for a more pleasant environment to grow up in. Prisoners in the jail below were often drunk or just plain loony and they howled for no reason. Throwing the cot was one of the things they did for amusement but Deputy Bask got rid of the thing. A plain mattress took it’s place, which they tossed around too but it didn’t have the same effect. Sheriff Kevin Grant was my father, a job forced on him when I was left as an infant on the office steps. He wasn’t my father in that he didn’t create me with a woman. I was there; he found me and decided to be my father. He asked around to see if anyone was missing a screeching infant but no one answered. He named me Beth, which wasn’t short for Elizabeth. He liked that it had less letters in it than his, so I would never think I was more important than him. He told me that with a smile because we grew on each other over the years.
I crept out of bed to grab an extra pair of socks for my cold feet. My goal was to not let anyone downstairs know I was awake. I peeked out my window and noticed Deputy Bask’s horse tied to the post. He was likely sitting with his feet up on the desk and his hat pulled down on his head. He took more naps than anyone I knew.
“I hear you up there Beth Grant. It’s about time you brewed a pot of coffee for your father and me.” Clay Bask got on my nerves but he could sense everything going on around him. No one stood a chance tying to ambush him. There was no reason for Clay not to like me but he didn’t and I disliked him in return, also for no reason in particular.
“I’m coming down Clay, just as soon as I get dressed.” I threw on my drab green dress and white apron. My brush was sitting nearby, which I picked up every day or two. It wasn’t easy to pull through my curly black mane and I wasn’t concerned with how I looked to the residents of the jail. I chopped it short once and Clay teased me until it grew again. It was a long year of teasing. I stepped into my boots and clopped down the stairs.
“Perks of being the sheriff’s daughter must include sleeping in. Your Daddy’s out walking see if the criminal element has struck overnight. He’ll expect breakfast when he returns and you can fix me a plate while you’re at it.
“Hoecakes are all I’m making with a bit of berry preserves if I have some. I see the cage is empty. Is Gaffney out of criminals or are you just lazy?”
“Mind your own business Beth which is taking care of me and your Daddy. That means get in the kitchen and start fixing grub.”
I huffed and went to the small room, which we called a kitchen with a potbellied stove and a few skillets. Clay Bask was a good-looking man with sinewy muscles and a shock of thick blonde hair. He was slender but I wouldn’t call him skinny and he could outrun a fox if he tried. His eyes, which I wish I hadn’t noticed, were blue grey. None of it mattered because I was so sour on his personality. His father was Deputy Sam Bask, who was a genuine character loved by all. When Sam was shot through the heart with an arrow Gaffney mourned as if he were the President of the US. The Sioux were immediately blamed but it was a clever white man who thought he would go unpunished if he made it look like he didn’t do it. Sheriff Grant figured it out because the arrow used was not like that of an Indian. My father was clever, dogged and respected by the Indians and the residents of Gaffney alike. The hoecakes and coffee were done at the same time I heard the door open, which meant my father was back from doing his morning rounds. I walked through the swinging door with plates in hand.
“Good morning all. I brought us a friend to keep us company. Menninger was sleeping on the wooden stoop in front of the saloon. In his pocket, you’ll find a few teeth, which might remind him of the fight he got into last night. Let him sleep it off and send him home with a warning. No more passing out in the street. Tell him to find an appropriate alley.”
Clay took Menninger by the collar and threw him on the cot in the cage.
“Anything else boss?” Clay asked as he inspected his food.
“Just the usual vandalism but no slaughtered horses or obvious robberies.”
“There’s not a whole lot to rob here, Sheriff. We’ve got the mercantile, saloon and the church, which is far out of town.”
“We’re located by the gold rich Black Hills and we’d make a nice town for a gang to take over. You forget that above the saloon there are a dozen rooms to rent. It’s a place we should be keeping an eye on.”
“One more thing Clay, before you go out on horseback. Dizzy Moon from the Sioux tribe reported harassment from a white man. It isn’t you is it?”
“No sir. We’ve worked hard to be friendly and they’ve done the same.”
“It’s petty thievery and knocking down some totem poles. You might want to check it out. If you’re going there take Beth cuz she speaks their language better than you.”
I smiled because I loved going along with the deputy even if it was Clay Bask. “I’ll grab my hat and fill a canteen with water.”
My horse Perk was excited to go for a ride. She was spirited but some said she was wild and dangerous. She was like that with others but not me. Perk and I had a connection as I didn’t have with another human. I supposed someday I’d have feelings for another person as I dreamed of motherhood, which usually required a partner. Once I showed up on his doorstep, my father didn’t have the time to find a wife, which meant all the cooking and cleaning fell to me. Clay came around to the barn on his old nag Laddie, which was his loyal pal as Perk was to me.
“You travel behind me Beth, because I’m the deputy and you’re just a pain in the ass.”
“Clay I think that deep down, you like having me around.” I smiled as I ignored his instructions and road alongside him.
“Not true. I rue the day the Sheriff opened the door and found you. Why he decided to keep you, I’ll never know.”
“Sheriff Kevin Grant is a good man, that’s why. Every day he puts other people ahead of himself; you included. You should be thankful there are people like him roaming the earth.”
We sped up to a gallop as we moved towards the Sioux Indian village. My father keep an eye on them and they did the same, which wasn’t the case in many towns. There were a few Indians that spoke English but they spoke it slow and Clay didn’t have the patience for it. That’s the reason I got to travel with the deputy. I asked why I couldn’t be deputized and my question was met with laughter.
“Smells delightful,” I said as we approached. “Their method of smoking meat is different from ours and it makes my mouth water. If Dizzy Moon is in a good mood, he’ll give us a sample to take home.”
“Dizzy Moon is always in a good mood when you come along. He likes the pretty ladies.”
Clay just referred to me as a pretty lady but I pretended as if I didn’t hear him. He liked being in charge and he had a gruff exterior that he liked to maintain. Dizzy Moon was standing outside his teepee when we arrived.
“Hello deputy. I see you brought the lovely Beth with you this morning. You’re fortunate to ride with such beauty. Thank you for coming to hear of our recent troubles.”
Clay and I hopped off our horses and Dizzy Moon grasped my hands in his and kissed them gently with his withered lips.
“Tell us what has been going on and I’ll rely on Beth to translate, if I get confused,” Clay raised his hat as a sign of respect.
“First I should state that I don’t think the men causing destruction are from Gaffney. They came through when most of us were sleeping but I managed to glance at their horses and I had never seen them before. I notice animals more than the white man does.”
“That means they’re likely gold prospectors from the Black Hills.” As I spoke, Clay shot me a nasty look. He didn’t like me giving opinions because that was his duty as a deputy.
“Did they steal anything or cause damage?” Clay asked.
“Yes and it’s troubling because they stole weapons that we would use for hunting large animals like buffalo and deer. They took blowguns, bows and arrowheads that are capable of causing grave damage to a human. We had an antelope on the spit, which they dragged away, and a sack of dried corn.”
“Was anyone hurt?” I asked.
“No but the women are scared that the gang of thieves will take their honor or even their lives. It is something they do for sport and as a way to weaken the tribe.”
“It’s just Sheriff Grant and I but we’ll do everything we can to secure your safety.”
“There also me,” I chimed in and even Dizzy Moon chuckled.
“You’re a friend of the Sioux Beth and I would never put you in harm’s way. If I did, I’d have to answer to your Father and that is not a position I want to be in. For your kindness today, I have packed up some cured buffalo meat and other treats that you can enjoy. You are luck Deputy Bask to have such a beautiful and wise partner.”
“Beth isn’t my partner. I run the show with her father and she’s just along for the ride.”
I shrugged my shoulders and Dizzy Moon looked at me kindly.
Clay and I rode back to town. I allowed him to ride in front because it wasn’t worth doing otherwise. I was 20 and Clay was 26 but he acted as if he was my uncle. He didn’t hesitate to discipline me and treated me as a child. He had sharp edges and I wished he would find a woman who might soften him up a little. Maybe he didn’t have a softer side and perhaps I would never know.
We arrived back at the office to find my father chatting with the prisoner Mr. Menninger. The man didn’t remember what happened the night before when he was apparently hit in the jaw. He was glad to have his teeth in his pocket as a memento of the bar brawl. Sheriff Grant let prisoners like him go the next morning as spending the night in jail was punishment enough.
“Thanks for the accommodations now it’s time to mosey on home and get punishment from Mrs. Menninger, which will be much worse.” He smiled and limped out of the sheriff’s office.
Clay and I filled my father in on what Dizzy Moon told us about criminals coming on to their property at night.
“Sounds like a gang.” My Father said. “There’s money in the Black Hills which attracts robbers. We don’t have a bank here but Gaffney makes a good place to wait for stages as they travel through. We’ve got a saloon and a boarding house with women. The Indians are a good target with their food and their women too.”
“How do we let em know that they’re not welcome here Sheriff?” Clay asked. “I can round up some men and we can deputize em. The badges might scare em away.”
“No, they’ll just get killed and we’ll have a war on our hands. I’m going to nip this in the bud by camping out by the Indian village overnight. I’ll send a message and they won’t bother us any longer.”
“No Daddy. I’m not letting you camp out by yourself. You’ll be asking for trouble. I’ll go with you.”
Clay jumped in. “If anyone’s going with the Sheriff it’ll be me. I don’t think a stake-out is an appropriate place for a little girl.”
“Don’t argue because I’m going alone. If anything ever happens to me, you have to be in a position to wear the sheriff’s badge Clay. I’ll have Dizzy Moon and the other tribe members as back-up, so I’ll be safe.”
“I’m not going to worry Sheriff Grant because I know if anyone’s capable of ridding this town of the criminal element it’s you. My pigs and chickens gotta eat so I’m going back to my ranch but I’ll be here in the morning. The cage will likely be filled with all the bad guys you’ve apprehended. Be sure to have the coffee ready Beth.”
Clay left and my Father noticed tears in my eyes. He wiped them away with his rough scarred fingers, which felt soft and healing to me. “This job is dangerous Beth and no one forced me to be Sheriff. It’s a calling in a way and one that I answered knowing that it wouldn’t be easy. You are and will always be the best thing in my life sweetie and don’t ever forget that. I’ll expect some yummy breakfast when I return from a quiet night under the stars. When I look into those big round eyes tomorrow morning, I expect them to be bone dry.” My father and I laughed as he held me in his arms.