THOUGH YOU HAVE NOT SEEN HIM...

A Just for Fun Fiction

by Celia Jolley




"I hate to see you letting life pass you by, dearest," Anne's Aunt Hester worried. 

"I'm waiting for the right man.  I'm not willing to just settle," she responded patiently  even though they had this conversation too often.

"I'm afraid he's a figment of your imagination.  With such high expectations, you'll miss ever getting a man, and you do need a man, sweetheart, unless you want to be a spinster," Aunt Hester pursed her lips.

"I am only twenty, aunt.  I wouldn't call me a spinster yet," she countered.

"I married your uncle at sixteen.  Haven't you met anyone that comes a little close to what you are looking for?  I'm afraid your mother allowed you to read too many of those romance novels."  Her aunt looked like she'd just sucked a lemon.

"Those books are only ones my mother read first.  Many are ones my father gave her as gifts, so they are special to me."  Anne hid a grin.  

"Still I can't help but worry about you.  I love having you here with me, but I won't always be around.  That's why I wish for you to settle down before I'm gone."

"I've heard that there's nothing better than finding the right man, but nothing worse than finding the wrong one."

"How about Mr. Smith, or Mr. Curtis, or Mr. Gable?  They've all asked after you."

Anne shook her head.  "I don't mean to speak ill of the dread gentlemen, but they are very weak-wristed, soft palmed men who have never had to do hard work, real labor.  I'm sure I have more callouses than they have. Not only that, I find them lacking in the Christian graces."

Aunt Hester sniffed with disdain.  "Don't be too judgmental.  I doesn't pay to be too picky."

"Though I've never seen him, I love the one who is out there for me, the one who God will provide for me," Anne said with outer confidence though she had a little niggle of fear that God might indeed allow her to become a spinster.  She said under her breath, "When I least expect it, my prince will come."

Aunt Hester left to go calling on one of her just as elderly friends still shaking her head.  Anne knew she would be the talk of the widows her aunt counted as her inner circle.  

Not long after
the elderly woman left, there was a disturbance in the front of her house.  Men were shouting.

"I'm telling you Harry, don't do it," one of the men growled.  "Put down the gun."

"Never.  This is a long time coming, and only one of us will come out alive this time."

Anne without a thought of her own safety, ran out and stopped on their front porch and shouted, "Don't do it!  Don't you dare shoot each other!  Not in front of my house.  Goodness, I thought this was a civilized town."

The two men were so shocked, their guns wobbled.  The tall one did not let the other out of his sight, however, and only saw the girl hugging a porch post out of the corner of his eye."  He said calmly, "You heard the little lady, Harry.  Put the gun down."

The man's open mouth surprise turned vile as his eyes turned into slits of hate.  "Better git inside, woman, and let us men settle this.  It ain't none of your concern."

"It most certainly is!   I will not stand for there to be blood spilled right here on our street.  It isn't decent and isn't right," she declared stomping her boot though fear was suddenly giving her the shakes.

The grizzled man swung back to the other and pointed his gun ready to shoot when the tall one shot him first wounding him in the shoulder.  Harry's shot went wild before he dropped his gun.  

Just then a cat yowled.  Anne screamed, "You just shot the tip of my cat's tail off, you wicked, wicked man!" She ran down the steps, but saw it was no use chasing her poor cat as it ran under the house.

Her anger dried her tears right there on the spot. "You are a bad, bad man!"

"I'm bleeding!" the horrid man hollered ignoring her. 

"Harry, I'm taking you to jail.  The doctor will just have to come visit you there."  It wasn't until then that Anne saw the sun glint off his badge.   "Sorry to have disturbed you, miss.  I'm afraid I'll need you to come by my office to fill out a sworn testimony concerning this matter."

"Now, wait a minute, that meddling chit won't give me the benefit of the doubt since I shot her stupid cat."

Anne then noticed all the neighbors across the street were peeking out their windows.  Aunt Hester would soon hear about the hullabaloo unfortunately, and Anne would most certainly get the tongue lashing of her life.  Her legs were wobbly even though the danger had passed.  She went into the parlor and sank down on the stiff horsehair couch.  Anne grabbed and hugged a pillow across her heart letting out a half sob and half angry growl.

She did not have long to wait.  Not even ten minutes passed before her aunt bustled up the stairs and threw open the door.   Standing there red-faced and panting waving her handkerchief in front of her, it took a minute before she was able to catch her breath and speak.

"Oh my dear girl!  Tell me it's not true that you walked into the middle of a gun fight!"

"Of course I did not do such a thing."

Aunt Hester put her hands over her heart and looked near to swooning.  Anne hurried over to take her elbow and to lead her to a chair.  "Let me get you a glass of water."

She rushed to the kitchen and pumped some water into the glass.  Her hands were still a little shaky, so much so that she spilled half of it as she hurried back to Aunt Hester.

After she handed the elderly woman the glass, she picked up each of her aunt's feet to place them on a footstool.  Then Anne retreated to the couch wringing her hands just waiting for the set down to begin.

"Anne, dearest, you gave me quite a scare.  I'm so glad you are unscathed.  But why did you not stay inside like all the neighbors?  Why did you involve yourself in such acts of violence?"  She drained the glass of water.

"I don't know, except that it was so terribly wrong.  I felt I had to do something.  I didn't want you to come home to spilled blood right there in front of your house."

"I would rather have had you safely inside.  That rogue could have shot you!"




"The sheriff would not have let him, didn't let him."  She realized she was most certain of that.  But she wondered what would have happened if she had stayed behind closed doors.  Would the criminal have shot the sheriff?  Would one or both of them have died, to lay in their own blood in the street?  Anne steeled her back suddenly sure she had done the right thing.

"Did you know that black-hearted man shot the tip of our dear Fluffy's tail clean off.  The poor thing is hiding under the house."

"No!"  Her aunt straightened and sputtered in anger, "How dare he shoot an innocent cat.  It just shows how low a man can go.  I hope they lock him up for a very, very long time!"

"Actually, the sheriff said I would need to go to his office to make out a sworn testimony about the matter."

"Make sure you include his dastardly deed of shooting our defenseless feline.  It's not as if a cat can shoot him back."

"Indeed," Anne responded but had to hide her smile at the image her aunt had just put in her head, of a gun belt toting cat walking down the middle of the street.

"I do hope she's alright.  Put some cream on the back porch, and see if she'll come out."

Anne did as she was instructed, but couldn't get the event of the morning out of her mind.  It almost seemed as if her ears were still ringing from the gun blasts.  Her heart was still racing, that was for sure.  Perhaps after lunch she would be calm enough to walk down to the sheriff's office and do what was required and put it all behind her.  Perhaps then she could get the terrible scene out of her mind.




After lunch, she did just that as soon as she  made sure no hair was out of place and her lace gloves were on.  But as she approached she heard boisterous laughter coming out from his office.  

"Tell us again what that little gal did, Garth."

"Like I said, I was staring Harry down waiting for him to go for his trigger when this fierce little wildcat came out and started dressing us down.  I've never seen such a look on a face as was on Harry's.  But when he insulted her enough, he drew his gun back at me, so I shot him in the shoulder before he could shoot me."

More guffaws were sounded.  

"Tell us again what happened to the cat and what she said..."

Anne had heard enough and threw open the door  letting it bang against the wall and stormed in.  "Excuse me, gentlemen.  I do not appreciate your scorning.  I have a matter to take up with the sheriff, then you can go back to laughing at me."

The men slunk out of there faster than water spilling out of a leaky bucket.  Soon it was just the sheriff and Anne left.  The man was rubbing his neck, she hoped was in embarrassment and shame for mocking her.  

"Perhaps I should have left you to be shot by that blackguard like all the other good citizens of this town did.  But since I didn't, I'll write out my testimony and get out of your way.  Your buddies can then come back and make me the butt of more of their jokes again."

"I'm sorry, miss.  We didn't mean to disrespect you so much as we were confounded at your bravery."

"I'm not convinced, sir.  I heard what all of you were saying and how you made them laugh at me."  She refused to look at him as tears of frustration were barely being blinked away as it was.  One did fall staining the paper she was writing upon.  Anne however carried on and just dipped the quill into the bottle of ink.  She tried to make a plain statement of fact as quickly as she could wishing herself away from this rude man.  It took longer than she had hoped.  Not only that, but a drop of ink stained her gloves making an irreversible stain adding to her frustration. 

"I'm sorry, but my aunt insists that I include that her cat was injured in the gun fight."

She knew he was most likely laughing behind her back again.

"There.  Good day, sir."

"Miss?" With her hand on the doorknob, she looked back at him over her shoulder and was struck by his earnest face, his handsome earnest face, and paused in spite of her wish to be gone.  "I'm truly sorry.  I must say once more that I was stunned at your bravery.  Indeed, you are the bravest woman I've ever encountered."

All she could do was to nod at him.  He had left her breathless.  Anne could only hope that it would all be behind her now.

However, as they sat catching up on their mending the next day, she found herself in a discussion with her aunt concerning guns.  

"They have their place, Aunt Hester.  Somehow they will always be found in the hands of outlaws, so good men must have firearms for their defense.  Besides, my father was good at providing for us by hunting.  I can appreciate a goose or a good steak, whether beef, venison, or bear.  I have also been grateful for rabbits as well as squirrels."  Memories of hunger and rejoicing when their father came back with meat to feed his family back in her earliest memories in the early days living on his homestead.  "Besides, I dare say sickness causes more deaths than shootings.  Take my parents, for example, as they died of cholera as did many of the neighbors."

Her aunt just sniffed.  "I still insist that gunfights should not be happening on our doorstep.  I hate to think our town has become like a dime western novel, paperback trash."

"Thank goodness the lawman was there.  I heard they found Mr. Thomas' pocket watch and his wife's jewelry in the thief's pocket.  He could have come in here to steal from us just as easily."

Her aunt huffed.  "I'll have you know that I sleep with a stout stick under my bed.  I'd like to see him try it.  I'd give him a knot on his head he'd not soon forget."

Anne bit back her grin at the image of her aunt hitting bad man Harry over the head in her bedroom while wearing her mop and billowing nightgown.  But she'd never tell her aunt that she slept with her father's pistol under her pillow.  However, she was relieved that she had not taken the time to run upstairs to retrieve it when the guns were drawn in the street.  Surely, if that man had seen a gun in her hands, he would not have hesitated to shoot her.  Such thoughts made her shudder.  It was still too fresh in her memory.

Her aunt put down the needle Anne had threaded for her and said, "I think what we need is a soiree for our neighbors and friends to thank that lawman for keeping us safe."

"Oh, I don't think that would be a good idea, Aunt Hester."  Anne knew how busy she would be cleaning and baking for such a thing to happen, not counting how humiliating it would be for others to talk about her part in the whole affair.

"But dear, I plan to invite several of the single gentlemen of the community besides my friends and our neighbors."

"Please, Aunt Hester.  I'm afraid too many of them are laughing behind my back at my part in it all.  They would just make sport of me."

"No, indeed, dear.  They wouldn't dare.  My brave Anne stood like Joan of Arc facing death."

She leaned down to pet poor Fluffy who could no longer could wave her long tail quite so proudly.  At least she had come out of hiding.  Anne wished she could go into hiding.

"It was nothing like that, I assure you, Aunt Hester." The actual event was growing into gigantic proportions.

Nevertheless, Aunt Hester was not to be deterred once an idea got stuck in her head.  Thus, Anne swept and mopped, dusted and waxed, washed and ironed and polished every single piece of silver that her aunt possessed until the whole house was gleaming.  Then she was baking dozens of tea cakes, frying dozens of donuts, baking all sorts of cookies, and squeezing buckets of lemons off their tree.  She was exhausted while her aunt was flying high with excitement as she tirelessly wrote out invitations in her beautiful script.  

Finally Anne was brave enough to ask, "How many have you invited, Aunt Hester."

"Oh, I didn't count.  But it must be close to thirty or so, give or take five or ten."

"Oh, dear," Anne muttered under breath.  Not only did she dread the coming whispers and out right laughter at her expense that was sure to come, but she dreaded those gentlemen of her aunt's choosing.  Thinking of them made her shudder.  If only they knew that she was dirt poor and her aunt's money was dwindling.  Her father's ranch that she let out hardly brought a profit.  That's why there was no maid or cook or gardener any longer.  She had encouraged her aunt to let them go as soon as she arrived.  

"Put on your rose dress, dear.  It is the most flattering," her aunt instructed.

"It would enhance my blushing," Anne muttered once again under her breath.  She was feeling as foul as a skunk and as nervous and squirming as a worm on the hook.  The dreaded soiree was about to begin.  Her aunt told her that her first job was to open the door so she could greet all her guests and then to take their wraps.  After that she should start serving the coffee and lemonade once everyone had arrived.  At least she took a little pride in the dining table full of pretty platters of sweets.   

From her position pouring the drinks, she was startled to see her aunt stand and hit her crystal glass with her spoon.  "May I have your attention, please?  I wanted to remind all my friends and neighbors that we should show our appreciation for our brave man behind the badge."  

The man stood and waved looking humble.  She had not seen him until now.  He must have slipped in late.

Suddenly, she wanted to run and hide under the table as her aunt quieted the polite clapping to add, "And I wanted to commend my brave niece for her part in apprehending that culprit."

More clapping accompanied her furious blushing.  Before she hung her head, her eyes caught up with the sheriff who seemed to be fighting back a grin.  How embarrassing!  How humiliating!

She could not stand the stares and smirks another second and slipped out onto the back porch.  The chill in the air helped to cool her flaming cheeks.  Anne whipped around as the door opened.  The sheriff stepped out.  She turned her back to him.

"I'll have you know that none of this was my idea," she told him.

"I did not think so for a second.  If it helps, I 'm almost as uncomfortable as you in this crowd."

She nodded to show her acknowledgment of his speaking.  Just then a shot rang out.  The sheriff took off running while Anne slipped up the back stairs to feel under her pillow.  There was another shot that made her heart beat almost out of her chest.  She ran the back alleys until she slipped between the Ferguson's house and the drug store to peek out.  The sheriff was down on his knees holding his bloody hand to his chest but still pointing a wavering gun as a man walked towards him ready to finish him off.  Without even thinking, Anne aimed holding her right hand up with her left to steady it and fired.  It jerked her back, before she peeked out again to see if she had hit her target. She could not see the other man any longer from where she hid.  The column holding the drug store's overhanging was blocking some of her view.  She walked slowly forward still pointing her pistol.




"Anne?" It was the sheriff.  

"Did I get him?" she asked.

"Knocked him down at least," he said.  He rose back up wobbling to his feet as a deputy ran up and put cuffs on the man and dragged him to his feet.  

She melted back into the alley.  How dare he shoot their sheriff! she thought.

"What happened, sheriff?  I heard three shots?"  Then the deputy asked before hollering over his shoulder, "Somebody get the doctor.  Sheriff's been shot!"

Anne was so glad he was on his feet, the criminal too as she had no wish to kill a man.  However, she would not hesitate to shoot to kill if it saved a life.  But she had no business here any longer lurking in the darkness.


Instead she reentered the kitchen breathless and shaken.  She could no more pour drinks now if her life depended on it the way her hands shook.   Anne shoved her pistol in under dish towels in a drawer and found a chair she could sink into.

Some of the men were on the porch looking down the street towards the earlier disturbance, but most of the men seemed to cower inside looking nervously about.

"My gracious!  What has happened to our quiet community?" her aunt exclaimed waving her hankie in front of her face as if to cool it.  

"It's terrible!" one of her friends spat.

"It's horrible!" another cried.

"Do you think our brave sheriff is alright?"

One of the men came inside to tell the others, "I heard the deputy call for the doctor saying that the sheriff had been shot!"

Gasps and dainty screams sounded.  As soon as one lady swooned, they all began dropping like flies spilling their glasses of lemonade and coffee on her aunt's carpet.  The men were busy flicking water droplets in their faces or using smelling salts under noses rousing sputtering madams.  She couldn't be sure, but she thought Mr. Smith had also fainted and was just now coming to.  He was looking around to see if anyone had noticed, until he looked straight at Anne and pinked up like a piglet.  But no one was eager to leave, not sure if the violence had ended yet.

Finally Anne could stand no more cowardice.  "There have been no more shots in at least half an hour.  I believe our citizens are once again safe."  She let everyone go after their own wraps which were spread across her aunt's bed.  The spurt of fight had drained out of her leaving her feeling weak.

The next morning her aunt insisted on making soup to take their brave sheriff who had been wounded.  Anne wanted to see him to know how badly he was injured, but then again, she didn't want to face him.  She could only hope he would not say anything about her involvement.  Anne did not think her aunt could take it that she had once again put herself in danger.

"Wrap up some of those left over sweets as well.  They might help him perk up," her aunt ordered.  

Anne wished she was back in the quiet of the country.  This town living was for the birds.  However, she would stay for her aunt.  Someday she hoped to take back her father's ranch that was rented out.

She hung back when the doctor let them into his small bedroom.  The man was pale lying against his pillow.  He caught her eye and she saw a twinkle in his.  She moved her hand up until a finger strayed across her lips to soundlessly shush any talk of her being at last night's shooting.

"How is our favorite sheriff this afternoon?" Aunt Hester asked.

"I've been better, ma'am," but he was grinning.  

"We've brought you some of the sweets from last night that you were not able to appreciate to their fullest since you had to run out.  Anne also brought a pot of soup  and left it to simmer on your stove."

"Thank you ladies."  When her aunt turned to speak with the doctor, the sheriff winked at her and whispered, "Thank you."

She nodded but dropped her gaze to her shoes.

"My admiration of your bravery has increased as the days go by, miss.  But I'm sure you do not wish for your courageous deeds to be sung from the highest rooftop," the man whispered.  

Her aunt had followed the doctor out the door when the sheriff beckoned, "Come here.  Closer."

She thought he wanted to whisper something in her ear so that no one else would be the wiser, but was shocked when he kissed her cheek.  Anne jerked straight up.  "Oh, my!"

"I wanted to show my gratitude, miss.  I'd probably be dead if it wasn't for you."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"He was Harry's partner and riled up at that.  Hopefully things will calm down now."

"I hope so.  I don't think my aunt could handle much more."

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

"My pa.  He taught me and took me hunting with him.  I'd rather have a shotgun, because I wasn't sure my aim would be as good as with a pistol."




Suddenly her aunt was back so the whispered conversation died a good death.  With promised  prayer for his recovery, she followed as her aunt bustled out just as a deputy walked in.  The young man grinned at her looking her over good.  Something in his eye caught her as a warning that she'd see him later.

Anne was on her hands and knees the next day trying to get the coffee and lemonade stains out of her aunt's carpet when someone knocked on the door.  She got up and swept the hair out of her eyes as her aunt glided to answer it.

"Why, Deputy McCaine, come in.  Anne please put the coffee on."  Anne hurriedly tore off her apron and went to the kitchen.  

She came back with a cup and a plate of left-over donuts and interrupted her aunt's diatribe on recent crime.  "Do you care for anything in your coffee, sir?"

"Black is fine."  He took a sip and sighed, "Thank you.  This is perfect, nice and strong."  His eyes were fixated on her making her feel uncomfortable.  

Her aunt had a gleam in her eye looking between the two of them.  A smile hovered on her lips.

Anne's thoughts went into a tailspin.  She had never been comfortable with any man's attention.  Even though the deputy was better than the namby-pamby usual gentlemen who came calling,  she was as nervous as if she was staring down a bull in her pa's field.  But she suddenly was stilled by the conversation swirling around her.


"Can you tell us how the sheriff is faring today?" her aunt asked.

"He's doing as well as expected.  But it is to be seen later if he will be able to return as the sheriff.  If not, I'll be taking his place most likely."

"Oh, my!  I did not realize he was so seriously injured," her aunt wrung out her handkerchief.

"I'm afraid one of the bullets that hit his hand may impair his ability to shoot straight.  If that word got out, no telling how many criminals would take advantage of it.  I'm temporarily appointed, but hope it will be made permanent soon."

Anne was aghast at his bravado, hoping to take advantage of a man who was injured in the line of duty.

"I think you perhaps should show a little more respect and support of our sheriff and wait to make other plans until he recovers a little more," she stated.

The deputy frowned saying, "Just thinking about what's best for our town's safety, to serve and protect."

"If you will excuse me," she said taking his empty cup and returning to the kitchen where she fought back her anger.  "What a banty rooster!" she muttered under her breath.  She washed the cup taking her time until she heard the front door close.  Anne sighed with relief.

"My word, Anne!  What did you mean by speaking so to our good deputy before nearly running out of the room?"

"I prefer to think of it as supporting our good sheriff who nearly laid down his life for our community, not once but twice."

Her aunt huffed and swept into the other room when there was another knock on the door.  Her aunt walked back into the kitchen saying, "It's the mail, Anne, and there's a letter for you."

"Thank you."  She wiped the soap suds off her hands then took the letter and tore it open.  It was from the man who had rented her father's ranch.  Her stomach fell.  "Mr. Dodge has decided he can't renew our agreement and is going to leave.  He says I have until the end of the month to find someone to take over the care of the livestock."

"Oh, dear.  We'll have to put a notice in the paper.  Hopefully someone will come forward."

"It's certainly something to pray about."

"On your way to the paper, will you stop by the sheriff's place and pick up our pot that the soup was in?  We need it back."

"Yes, ma'am, if you think it is proper to go alone to see the man in his home."

"Well, make sure the curtains are open to nip gossip in the bud."




When Anne walked down the boardwalk, she began dragging her feet.  She was glad however  that the curtains were already drawn open as she knocked on his door.  Anne felt like frogs were leaping in her stomach as he opened the door.  

"Come in.  You're a nice surprise.  I'm getting as nervous as a wild cat caught in a trap kept here in these four walls."

"You must be feeling better."  She took a deep breath, then asked, "Will you go back as our sheriff?"

"I haven't decided yet.  I never took the position as a long-term responsibility.  Someday I'd always hoped to go back to ranching."

Anne sucked in a breath that nearly choked her.  "Truly?  I'm looking for someone to take over my father's place.  I am losing the renter by the end of the month."

"Is that the place that Dodge rented?  That's a nice spread."

"Yes.  I love it there and miss it greatly, miss riding my horse.  But as long as my aunt needs me, I'll be staying here in town."

The sheriff got a strange look on his face.  Then he said, "I think this  may be a nudge from God to lay my badge down.  I'd prefer not to get in any more gun battles, as you can imagine it better than anyone else.  I'd shake your hand, but," he held out his bandaged hand, "I doubt you want to grab onto these bandages yet."

Anne felt almost faint.  "As much as I'd hoped you'd return as the sheriff, I'm feeling a little selfish hoping you would choose to take over the ranch instead."

"Let me pray about it until tomorrow.  But why don't you come back then with any papers you want me to sign."

"Oh, my.  I was on my way to the paper to place an ad about the ranch.  I think God may have already answered my prayers.  I just came to check on you and bring back our soup pot."

"That was delicious, by the way and greatly appreciated.  Well, I agree, it was timely perhaps that you stopped by here first."

She felt something loosen in her chest allowing her to smile freely.  "Truly.  I will see you tomorrow and will be praying as well."

He grinned back.  "I'll look forward to seeing you, miss."

Anne almost forgot to grab the soup pot, but he held it out for her before she quickly walked back to her Aunt Hester's.

However, when she entered, she could not find her aunt.  "Aunt Hester?" she called.  Since there was no answer Anne just assumed her aunt had left to go visit one of her friends.  She put water in pot and began peeling potatoes for a nice soup for tonight.  However, when her aunt did not return and the afternoon was easing into dusk, she began to worry.

"Aunt Hester?"  Anne had not thought to go up the stairs before, but did now.  She peeked into her aunt's room, and there she was.  It looked like she was sleeping peacefully as if she had decided to take one of her naps.  Her clothes were on with just a quilt pulled up to keep her warm.  But her aunt was cold.  Too cold and stiff.  Aunt Hester no longer lived here.  



Anne was in shock.  Her dear aunt had left her alone in the world.  No other family was nearby to care for her, with only a few distant cousins on the east coast.  She tucked up the quilt and kissed her aunt goodbye on the bloodless cheek, and went to find the doctor.  He'd arrange everything with the undertaker.  Then she came home to wait in the parlor.  

Word spread quickly, and a steady stream of people were dropping by to offer their condolences.  Her smile was frozen.  Her heart barely was beating.  Then a man stood quietly by until she looked up.  He then knelt down, put a bandaged hand on her lap and said, "I am so sorry, Miss Anne.  Whatever you need, I'll do it."

"I want to go home," she said as a lone tear made its way down her cheek.  As much as she appreciated staying in her aunt's house, it was not home.

"After the funeral, we will speak to the bank to find out whether it would be better to sell or to rent her place.  But no matter, you belong on your own place."

"But I can't run it myself."  She teared up.  "If you agreed to come see to the ranch, it wouldn't be proper for me to be there as well.  I don't know what to do."  Another tear slipped down her cheek.

He cleared his throat.  "There's only one solution I can think of, especially since I owe you my life," the sheriff said from where he still knelt in front of her.  "Marry me.  We can run it together.  I can't think of another woman in the world I'd rather have by my side," he said in his low voice.  Fortunately, all the others had trickled out, and they were alone.

She gazed into his eyes.  "I can't think of a better match myself.  It would be an honor to be your wife, sir."

He grinned.  She grinned.  Then their grins disappeared as a kiss replaced them.  

"I knew my prince would come," she whispered as he pulled her to his chest.  "I loved you before I knew you, just like I loved God without seeing Him."

"I knew my princess would come,"  he said as his words rumbled through his chest and into her ear pressed there.  "A princess with a pistol."  Her laughter joined his as she greatly rejoiced in God's blessing upon their lives, in spite of losing her aunt and in spite of his injuries.




"...though you have not seen Him, 
you love Him,
and though you do not see Him now,
but believe in Him,
you greatly rejoice
with joy inexpressible
and full of glory."

I Peter 1:8


After nearly completing my rough draft, I found a rather profound post an 18 year old friend of my sons wrote on "Valentine's (Every) Day.   "I don't need a day or another year to wait for one day.  Right now I know what I am.  I know where my heart is, I  know who I am.  When time is present, I will come to my love as they come to me.  I won't hesitate when I find the connection.  I will commit myself to a true relationship.  There isn't any other kind of feeling that can change real love.  Not a day separates love from love.  I might not have any one now but I know that I have an understanding of what true love is."


























































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