Lone Cowboy Found an Abandoned Mail-Order Bride in the Storm — Not Knowing Love Was All She Had Left

Chapter 6

Later that night, he stepped onto the porch.

Faith stood near the railing, looking out across the dark valley. The last light of sunset glowed faintly along the horizon, a thin line of gold between the black earth and the darkening sky. She looked small against the wide land.

Silas had never once seen her cry since the day he found her on the road.

But that night, she did.

Her shoulders shook quietly in the darkness where she believed no one could see. No sound escaped her. She cried the way people cry when they have learned that no one is coming to comfort them.

Silas stayed in the shadows.

And in that moment, he knew one thing with certainty.

He believed her.

But belief alone would not protect her. Because Willow Creek had already made up its mind. And the sheriff was coming.

—

The morning sun had barely risen when Silas heard the hooves.

Slow. Steady. The kind of rhythm that meant business.

He stepped onto the porch as Sheriff Harland rode into the yard. The gray horse snorted softly and stopped near the gate. The sheriff climbed down, dusted off his coat, and looked toward the cabin.

Faith appeared in the doorway behind Silas, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron. She had been baking again. The smell of fresh bread drifted from the kitchen.

“Ma’am.” The sheriff nodded at her, then turned his eyes to Silas. “Mind if I ask her a few questions?”

Silas stepped down from the porch. Without thinking, he moved half a step closer to Faith.

“Ask.”

—

The three of them stood in the yard. Wind moved softly through the grass. The sheriff pulled a small notebook from his vest and tapped his pencil against the page.

“When did you arrive in Willow Creek?” he asked.

Faith answered without hesitation. “Five weeks ago. September sixteenth.”

“Where from?”

“Cincinnati. I worked at the Morrison Textile Mill.”

The sheriff scribbled. He looked up again. “Anyone who can confirm where you were the night before the bank robbery?”

Faith’s jaw tightened. “I was here. In this cabin.”

Sheriff Harland turned his eyes to Silas. “You confirm that?”

Silas did not hesitate. “She didn’t leave.”

The sheriff wrote another note. Then he closed the small book and slipped it back into his vest.

“I haven’t decided anything yet.” His voice carried a warning beneath the calm words. “But don’t leave the county.”

He leaned closer to Silas and lowered his voice.

“If I were you,” he said quietly, “I’d sleep with one eye open.”

—

The sheriff mounted his horse and rode away, leaving a cloud of dust drifting behind him.

Faith stood motionless in the yard. Her face had gone pale.