Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5) by Caroline Fyffe Read Free Book Online Page A

and took the seat in front of the mirror.
    With soothing hands, her mother gently gathered her hair to the back and drew the brush through. “All I’m asking, sweetheart, is for you to give it a little time. After a few days, you won’t even remember what was upsetting you.”
    Charity gazed into the reflection of her mother’s wise eyes. Perhaps she’d made too much out of Brandon’s behavior tonight. He’d been through a lot of emotional turmoil himself in Texas, just as she had. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of their lives.
    Yes. She would take her mother’s advice. For the first time in hours, Charity felt a smile blossom in her heart. Her beloved Brandon wouldn’t do her wrong. He’d never lead her on or hurt her. Never.
    Charity reached up and took her mother’s hand, the brush still in her long hair. “Thank you, Mother. Now that I think about Brandon without the suspicion in my heart, I believe you’re right. I love him so much. And he loves me.”
    She stood and curled into her mother’s waiting arms, happy. Only one month and Brandon and I will finally be man and wife. Only one month and we’ll say our “I dos.” That’s not long to wait at all . Warm tingles flittered through her. Only one month …

 
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    T he street hadn’t gotten any less dusty in his time away. Still too keyed up to go home, Brandon crossed the deserted road and stopped in front of the sheriff’s office. The sun had gone and night was just around the corner. Oil lamps glowed in the shop windows.
    His house. That was another thing that had troubled him. How would Charity take to living in town? The tiny place went to whoever held the sheriff’s job. It had been fine for him all these years, but was barely the size of the large living room at the ranch. She’d assured him more than once that she didn’t need the grandeur of the ranch. Brandon knew she believed that wholeheartedly, but saying and doing sometimes didn’t end up being the same.
    Anxiety needled his mind, but he decided he’d think about that later, after he had a better picture of the town and what had transpired in his absence. Y Knot was his responsibility—one he’d let go longer than he should.
    Crossing the street, he passed Berta May’s dark sewing shop and stopped in the entrance of the Hitching Post Saloon. Peering over the bat-wing doors, he noticed a few men he didn’t recognize amidst the regulars in the dimly lit hall.
    Abe, the bartender, saw him and waved him in. “I heard you were back, Sheriff. Come in and wet your whistle.”
    Brandon smiled and pushed through the doors. He strode up to the long mahogany bar and placed his boot on the brass footrest. “Good to see you, Abe. How’s business?”
    Abe leaned on the curved edge of the bar. The skinny man’s red suspenders held up his pants, and a white apron circled his waist. “Pretty darned good.” Abe looked around and nodded. “But as you know, I don’t hold much stock in your deputy. If the McCutcheons hadn’t been here on a couple of occasions, Jack woulda lost control of the place. It’s mighty good you’re back. I’ll breathe easy now.”
    Brandon felt duly appreciated. “I’ll make a point to stop by often so any cowboys looking for a high time will know I’ve returned. You had a lot of trouble?”
    “Just when that mail-order bride got the men worked up. Then there was a shootout over a feller accused of dealing from the bottom.”
    “What happened?”
    “Before Jack could get here—he’s always a bit slow; that is, if you can find him—the two drunkards drew on each other. Both had a snoot full, so no one was kilt, just wounded. Doc Handerhoosen took the plugs out and stitched ’em up. A week later, they rode out of town together as if nothin’ had happened.”
    Sometime during Abe’s storytelling, a prickle crawled up Brandon’s spine. He glanced discreetly in the large mirror. No one back there was paying him any