Mail Order Bride - Westward Justice: Historical Cowboy Romance (Montana Mail Order Brides Book 6) by Linda Bridey

Sammi teased and batted her eyes at him.
                  “Sheriff Taylor!” a woman called out.
                  Sammi watched Mitch’s shoulders slump and heard him let out a heavy sigh.  She saw a plump, older woman waving to him.  Mitch rode over to her and said, “Afternoon, Mrs. Samuels.  How can I help you?”
                  Pricilla looked up at Mitch and said, “That cat of Bertha Wagner’s has been digging in my flower bed again.  This is the third time this week I found cat dirt when I was weeding.”
                  “Pricilla, I understand why you’re frustrated, but there’s nothing I can do about a cat.  I’ve tried to explain that to you before,” Mitch said patiently. 
                  “But you’re the sheriff now,” Pricilla said.
                  “Yes, that’s true, but you’ve been dealing with this cat longer than I’ve been sheriff.  I’ve asked Bertha to try to keep her cat at home, but sometimes it sneaks out,” Mitch said.  “I can’t control that and it’s not against the law for cats to be out and about.”
                  Sammi saw Mitch’s hand tighten on his reins when Pricilla opened her mouth to argue.
                  “Hey, lady,” Sammi said and held up her gun.  “You see this?  It’s a gun.  If you keep having problems with the cat, just shoot it.  Of course, you have to make sure that you’ve got the right cat.  I understand that Pastor John has one and I wouldn’t recommend shooting a pastor’s cat.  You do that, and you won’t be entering the pearly gates, that’s for sure.”
                  Pricilla’s mouth opened but nothing came out.  She looked from Mitch to Sammi and then just took off down the street, muttering about unsavory women.
                  Mitch took off in the opposite direction at a trot and Sammi followed him.  She thought he was angry with her until he pulled Rico over and started laughing.  Sammi laughed with him.  People looked at them as they passed but neither of them cared. 
                  “I can’t believe you just did that,” Mitch said when he caught his breath.  “I’ve never seen Pricilla speechless before.  I guess I shoulda done that a long time ago, but I tried to be nice.”
                  Sammi said, “Well, unfortunately nice doesn’t always get the job done.”
                  “You mean like last night at the saloon?” Mitch asked.
                  “Yeah.  I’d tried to be nice and make Paul see reason, but when people are half-way drunk, their good sense just isn’t always there.  But even if you’re drunk, usually if a gun is pointed at you, it sobers you up,” Sammi said.  “And if not, a bullet to the foot does.”
                  Mitch said, “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
                  Sammi looked at him.  “I know that sounds harsh, but it’s different for you, Mitch.  I doubt that you’ve had a two-hundred pound man pawing at you.  I have.  I tried everything I could to convince him to leave me alone, but he was determined.  I didn’t want to get violent, but a shot in his foot was what saved me.  Ever since then, I just found that being intimidating right off is the best way to avoid getting hurt later on.”
                  Mitch said, “Jesus.  You’ve really had a rough time of it, haven’t you?”
                  “I didn’t have a pa or anyone like that to protect me, so I had to protect myself,” Sammi said.  She shrugged.  “I’m used to it.”
                  As he looked Sammi, Mitch began to see that underneath all of the bravado she showed the rest of the world a scared sixteen-year-old girl still existed inside of her.  That she had survived alone in a world where many atrocities