A Sheriff to Salvage the Widow's Heart Bonus Scene

Three Years Later

Clementine stepped out into the brisk spring morning, closing her eyes for a moment as the breeze ran its fingers through her hair. It was almost too early for the sun, but she could see the first rays just starting to pierce through a pink veil of clouds.

In an hour or so, Josephine would be awake and tearing through the house, eager to rob unsuspecting chickens of their eggs, or to check on the seeds she had carefully stowed under soil in the garden. It made Clementine smile just to think of her little cyclone of energy, all bright golden curls and lake-blue eyes.

"Your sister sure is something, isn't she?" Clementine looked down at the bundle snuggled up against her chest. A tiny face, crowned by raven-black hair, poked out of the blanket. Baby Elizabeth was three months old, and Clementine had never been so full of love for her sweet family. Every day overflowed with joy in the life she and Roger had built on the foundation of her simple ranch.

Elizabeth yawned and opened her eyes. Even at this young age, they were strikingly blue in a way that differed from her sister but mirrored her father's eyes exactly. Clementine stroked the fragile skin of the baby's cheeks and kissed the tufts of her hair.

"I guess we'd better get ready to say good morning to everyone else," she said. "This day isn't going to start itself!"

In some ways, the work was longer and harder than ever now. Their team of farmhands had doubled from four to eight, in proportion to the ever-increasing sprawl of the cattle fields. As it turned out, Roger had proven to have as keen a mind for cattle business as he did for law enforcement. He selected his cows with the critical eye of a connoisseur.

Clementine was sure that it pained him to sell for slaughter, and he quickly became known for having favorites that were never for sale. But Roger's deceptively soft heart notwithstanding, the ranch's income grew — and grew — and grew.

"Maybe someday this whole area of West Virginia will be ours," he told her one night as they sat together in the rockers out front. "That'd be something."

"I think Shirley might object," Clementine pointed out.

"Are you kidding?" Roger laughed. "They wouldn't have to move. We'd just be landlords. Shirley would love it."

That much, Clementine couldn't dispute. Shirley still visited more days than not anyway. The women were as close as always, and Shirley just adored the newest addition to the Wilson clan.

"She looks exactly like that man of yours," she had told Clem upon first laying eyes on little Beth. "He's got some strong features. Lucky you to snatch them up for your babies."

Clementine giggled. "Oh, Shirley. I didn't marry Roger for his features."

"No, I'm sure you didn't," Shirley had said, winking.

At night, Clementine stood in the kitchen over dinner, swaying Beth on her hip and stirring a pot full of stew. In the sitting room, Roger and Josephine played a game that involved a whole lot of wild giggling from the toddler. Clementine smiled. She basked in the smells, sights, and sounds of her perfect home.

"Dinner's ready!" she called. "Come and get it before Beth and I eat it all."

"Mama, no!" Josephine burst through the doorway like a cannon blast. "Bethy doesn't even have teeth!"

"You just wait until she gets some," Roger warned. He lifted Josie into her chair. "I've been told that baby sisters love to bite."

Josie shrieked with disgusted delight. "Bethy won't bite me," she said. "We're gonna be best friends."

"What sort of silliness is Papa talking today?" Clementine asked. "I just don't know what to do with him."

"Well, you married me," Roger reminded her. "And last I checked, the pastor isn't offering returns." He smiled and nudged her gently with his foot under the table.

Clementine smiled back. "I wouldn't dream of asking."

She loved every part of her days on the ranch, from early mornings to the deepest hours of the night with Roger and now little Beth. But sometimes Clementine's favorite moments came in the quiet of evening, when both girls were on the verge of sleep. She tucked Josephine in and sat on the edge of the mattress in the master bedroom, singing Elizabeth to sleep.

The cradle creaked rhythmically. Clementine watched her baby's eyes close, long dark lashes brushing her delicate cheekbones. She leaned down to kiss her and was just starting to straighten up when a pair of familiar, strong arms encircled her waist from behind.

Clementine gasped. "You scared me, you devil." She leaned back against his chest and closed her eyes. He kissed her cheek; his stubble rasped gently against her skin.

"Sorry, darlin'. Just came in to say I love you."

"Not more than I love you," she answered dreamily.

Roger squeezed her. "If that's a challenge, you bet I'll accept it." He put his lips up to her ear and began to hum a quiet tune. Clementine blushed. It was the same song that had been strummed on an old guitar as she walked down the aisle on their wedding day.

"You remember that?" She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied. "The best day of my life was when I got to marry you." Resuming the song, he started to sway her back and forth as he moved to the beat. It brought her back to the night in the barroom where they danced in the glow of Farley's lanterns, bathed in love and joy.

Those days seemed impossibly far away as Clementine gazed down at her second little girl. She could feel the vibrations of Roger's voice running through her chest. If she turned her head to the side, his heart beat strongly in her ear.

And once more, through the window, the moon hung low against a blue velvet sky that was dusted with twinkling stars.

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