Runaway Cowgirl by Cheryl Dragon Page A

women’s boarding houses or in Denver with your sister, that’s a different situation. Out west in a town like this, with so many single men, and helping—”
    “Orphans and fallen women need help too. I don’t need your permission to be charitable with my money.” Emily’s headstrong antics had often given her father fits, but staying in a big city like Denver had proven she wasn’t a fool. Growing up with a dreamer for a father, she’d watched him rise to a man of status because of his mines. The world had changed its view of him. So change was possible and rules were meant to be broken.
    “Maybe it’d be best if you did move to Denver?” The sheriff shrugged. “I can’t protect you all the time. Not like a husband. Or a brother-in-law.”
    “You want me to leave?” Emily eyed the shotgun they kept near the door. Generally it was to ward off wolves or strangers sniffing around.
    The reverend stepped closer. “Of course not. The truth is, we’ve all got a mind to court you. You’ve been swimming in your grief for so long, perhaps it’s still not appropriate.”
    “But it would be prudent,” the sheriff added.
    Too many men was a big problem out west. A woman alone, even a widow like Alice, was in danger from strange men of poor character. Emily never thought she’d have to worry about that here. Maybe she was too trusting?
    “Your father was a good man. He wanted to keep you young and innocent forever. But you’re grown now, miss. Men will come calling,” the sheriff said.
    Emily was twenty-two, old enough, certainly. But she had no intention of being forced into marriage. She’d rebelled against her father’s overprotection in many ways. Trading with the Indians when it was safe and riding horses too fast around town. The fact that he hadn’t pushed her to marry was the one thing they’d always agreed on. Not that she didn’t want to marry the right man at the right time.
    Looking at the group again, she hid her disappointment by fussing with the demure bracelet of amethysts at her wrist. It was worth more than most of those men earned in a year. Of course they wanted her for a wife. She was rich.
    The only two men she was interested in weren’t among the group. The Bonner men were a pair of cousins who had a ranch on the edge of town. One was serious and reliable while the other was more friendly and daring. Both were strong and attractive enough to haunt her dreams. Neither of those men had been in church or had ridden out to see her today.
    “You should marry. A single respectable woman isn’t safe out here. It’s just not done,” Young said.
    “And if you insist on educating former prostitutes and taking on orphans for stable boys, you might not be so respectable for long. Get married and you’ll fix it all.” The sheriff shrugged.
    Emily stepped back into the doorway and grabbed the shotgun. Pulling it up to her shoulder, she aimed a few inches shy of the feet of her suitors and fired into the soft dirt. Alice ran inside the house as the men stepped back and shouted at Emily.
    “Get off my property.” Emily put the shotgun back and went inside.
    Sarah shut the door and locked it. “Lunch will be ready promptly, miss.”
    “Thank you, Sarah.” Emily let the housekeeper help with her hat.
    Alice shook her head. “The men are sorry about your father and not quite sure what to make of you now. Single women alone aren’t always well received. I felt plenty of those stares when my husband died. A widow with children is one thing, then you’re still a mother and always will be. I’m not sure why it’s different but that’s how things are. I am respectable and will do my best to keep you so too. But marriage would resolve a lot. You’d have more freedom.” Alice sighed and studied her quilt square.
    “I remember when Mr Lange died.” Emily moved into the parlor with embossed wallpaper and her favorite green damask couch and absently picked up a book she’d been reading.