Archive of Our Own

Duncan, Oklahoma Territory, former Indian Territory - 1891 

Chloe looked up from her books when the bell above the door jingled for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. 

Not that Chloe would ever complain about business being good. 

Mr. Dawson tipped his hat in her direction. “Morning Mrs. Beale.” 

Chloe offered him a polite smile. “Good morning, Mr. Dawson. Need tobacco?” 

The old rancher walked inside and headed to the counter, spurs clicking with each step. 

Outside, the blazing sun had already turned Main Street into a haze of dust and heat as wagons and horses flitted past the storefront windows. 

“Please. And the missus asked for a pound of flour. Somethin’ about making a cake.” 

Chloe chuckled, turning around and standing on her tiptoes to grab a can of dipping tobacco from one of the shelves. “Lucky you.” 

She heard footsteps rushing down the stairs, Oliver appearing in a blur around the corner mere seconds later. 

“No running in the store, Ollie,” she told him with a not-so-serious look, earning herself a sheepish smile in return. “Are you ready for school?” 

Oliver was already heading to the jars of candies lining the opposite counter, freezing when Chloe tutted. 

“No candies until tonight.” 

“But–” 

“End of discussion.” 

Oliver huffed a little, drawing Mr. Dawson’s attention. “You should listen to your mother, young man.” 

Oliver seemed to shrink under the rancher’s stern gaze. “Yes, sir.” 

Mr. Dawson nodded and turned back to Chloe, who had started to weigh the flour. “Have you heard about the latest piece of gossip?” 

Chloe laughed as she grabbed a string to tie the bag up. “Since when do you care about gossip?” She teased goodnaturally. “You’ll have to be more specific, Mr. Dawson.” 

Over the years, the Beale’s General Store became more than just a place to buy supplies; it was the heart of town itself, news passing through the doors before it reached the paper. 

Mr. Dawson leaned closer, bracing his elbows on the glass counter. “The new sheriff’s arriving today.” 

“Well, that’s old news,” Chloe told him with another laugh as she dusted her hands on her apron. “Mrs. Perry told me about this weeks ago.”

“Well, I asked around, nobody knows a darn thing about him.” 

Chloe hummed, attempting to keep her amusement at bay. “I suppose we’ll soon be acquainted, if he’s arriving today as you’ve said.”

Oliver’s voice piped up from the other side of the store. “Ethan from school says he shoots faster than his own shadow!” 

Her child’s innocence never failed to make Chloe smile; she had spent the past year doing everything she could to protect that, ever since his father had passed away. Oliver and managing the store kept her moving forward and not crumbling under the grief. Some days were harder than others, but she was grateful for her community helping her through it. 

“Well, that would certainly be something,” Chloe said as Oliver walked over to her and glued himself to her skirts. Chloe smiled softly, carding her fingers through his light brown hair. “Go get your books and chalkboard, you can’t be late for school.” 

Oliver nodded and scampered back upstairs. 

“He’s a good kid,” Mr. Dawson said, fishing in his pocket for a dollar bill. 

Chloe accepted it with a polite smile and opened her cash register, handing twenty cents back to her customer. “You have a good day now, Mr. Dawson. Say hello to Greta for me.” 

Mr. Dawson gathered his purchases in one hand, then tipped his hat. “You bet. God bless.” 

“And you.” 

Oliver ran back shortly after, a little out of breath. “I’m ready, Ma.” 

Chloe crouched down to his level and peered into his pocket, sighing as she pulled out the slingshot sticking out of it. “Why are you taking this to school, mister?” 

“To practice for when I get to shoot a real gun!” Oliver exclaimed brightly. Chloe pursed her lips. “Soon I’ll become the sheriff’s right-hand man and shoot faster than my own shadow, too!” 

Chloe stifled a laugh. “You can practice after school. I don’t want you to risk hurting your classmates.” 

Oliver seemed as though he was about to object, but he refrained. “Okay.” 

Chloe brushed a kiss to his forehead. “Come on, off you go.” 

She walked with him to the door, staying in the doorway while he crossed the street towards the church, which served as the school facility on weekdays. Once he was safely inside, Chloe returned to her books, writing down Mr. Dawson’s purchase. 

Over the next couple of hours, regulars and people from out of town wove in and out of the store to buy staples or just say hello. 

When Mrs. Perry stepped inside around three, Chloe bit back a small sigh. As sweet as the woman was, she was awfully talkative and would most definitely stick around for an hour, telling Chloe about gossip she had no interest in. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Perry.” 

“Hello, sweetheart.” The older woman walked to the counter, the floorboards creaking under her feet. “I’ve heard today is the day the new sheriff is set to arrive!” 

Chloe hummed, scooping more grain into the bag set on the scale. “And where did you hear this from?” 

“One of the ranchers spotted a lone rider up on the ridge. All dressed in black.” 

“Ah.” Chloe tied off the bag and stored it onto the shelf along with the rest, then wiped her hands on her apron. “We should make sure he feels welcome, then.” 

“Perhaps he’s a handsome fellow.” The glint in Mrs. Perry’s eyes told Chloe exactly where this conversation was going. “And you just happen to be the town’s most eligible young woman. It might be a brilliant match.” 

“I’m alright by myself, Mrs. Perry,” Chloe assured her softly. “But thank you for your concern. I appreciate it.” 

The door flew open before Chloe could reply. Oliver ran in, nearly knocking over the stacked cans of tomatoes in his haste. “Ma! Can I have my slingshot now?? Ethan and me want to practice at the back of the store!” 

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “First of all, it’s Ethan and I,” she corrected gently. “And second, what about your homework?” 

“There isn’t any!” 

“Oh really?” Chloe pursed her lips and held out a hand. Oliver whined, fishing out his notebook and extending it towards his mother. Chloe flipped through the page until she found today’s date. “Looks like you’ve got some writing to practice, mister.” 

Oliver was about to object, the bell above the door interrupting him. In walked a newcomer, wearing a long, dusty black coat and a matching hat. The stranger briefly surveyed the room, then stepped up to the counter, offering Chloe and Mrs. Perry a nod. 

“How do you do?” 

The voice caught Chloe off-guard. Low, confident and distinctively female. 

The woman lowered the scarf covering her mouth and nose so it hung around her neck. Sharp dark-blue eyes settled on Chloe. 

Mrs. Perry did not look amused. “You’re not from around here.” 

The woman’s focus shifted to the older woman. “I’m not, no.” She reached inside her coat and produced a document bearing the official seal of the territory. “I have an appointment with the mayor. Could you point me in his direction? The town hall appears to be closed.” 

Mrs. Perry not too subtly leaned over to read the document. Her face paled almost instantly. Chloe was momentarily concerned she might faint. “You’re the new sheriff?” 

A firm nod. “Yes, ma’am. Rebecca Mitchell.” 

The room got so quiet that Chloe could hear the ceiling fan creak overhead. 

“Is it true that you shoot faster than your shadow?!” Oliver piped up. 

“Oliver,” Chloe warned. 

The new sheriff’s gaze softened as she glanced down towards the boy. It appeared as though she was hiding her amusement. “I don’t know about that, young man.” 

Oliver’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.” 

Chloe finally shook off her shock. “You should find the mayor at the saloon across the street,” she told her. 

Rebecca nodded and folded the document neatly, tucking it back into her coat. “Thank you, miss…?” 

“Beale,” Chloe supplied. Mrs. Perry had yet to find her voice, which was very much out of character for her. “Chloe Beale.” 

Rebecca tipped her hat. “A pleasure.” She turned to Mrs. Perry. “Ma’am.” Then cast Oliver a wink. “Kid.” 

Oliver grinned wide, his tiny body clearly buzzing with uncontainable excitement. “Bye!” 

As soon as the door shut behind the newcomer, Mrs. Perry started muttering. “Well this– this is unacceptable.” A disbelieving laugh barreled past her teeth. “A woman sheriff. What is next, an Indian judge? I shall have a word with Howard right this instant.” 

“I think the mayor might be held up for a little while, Mrs. Perry,” Chloe reasoned gently. “Besides, that was a decision made by the territory. Unless you know anyone at the governor’s office, I doubt there is anything to be done.” 

“Oh, I will draw up a petition,” Mrs. Perry announced, clasping her purse shut with troublemaking energy. “Mark my words, that woman will be gone by next week.” 

With that, she stalked out of the store, leaving Chloe both stunned and concerned. 

*

By six, the news had spread like wildfire across town. Even though she didn’t know her at all, Chloe felt bad for the new sheriff; she knew what it was like to be looked down upon for having too many responsibilities. When Henry passed, most people in town deemed her incapable of running the store by herself. 

Women shouldn’t be in charge of a business, they’d said. 

Women shouldn’t get to make their own money, was also another common phrase. 

But Chloe had pushed on, and for the sake of women’s rights and freedom, she hoped the new sheriff would, too. No doubt she would come across even more hurdles than Chloe had. 

Chloe was minutes away from closing the store when the person she had just been thinking about walked in. 

“Hello again, Mrs. Beale,” she greeted, along with that polite tip of the hat. 

“Please, call me Chloe,” Chloe tells her as she closes her books. “Everyone in town does.” 

Rebecca nods. “Chloe.” 

“How did the meeting with the mayor go? It wasn’t interrupted by the woman from earlier, was it?” 

A soft laugh puffs past the other woman’s lips. “Oh, it sure was. We had to continue the meeting in his office.” 

Chloe winces. “I’m afraid that won’t be the last of your troubles here, Rebecca.” 

Rebecca shrugged. “I’m a marshall, Chloe. Trouble follows me everywhere I go. When it doesn’t, I’m the one chasing it.” 

It was Chloe’s turn to laugh. “That’s a poetic way to see it.” She clears her throat. “How can I help you?” 

“The boarding house is full. Mrs. Harper says since you know just about anyone in town, you might know of a room for rent.” 

Chloe hesitated for a handful of seconds; she happened to have a room, for when her late husband’s brother passed through town. It had become rare since Henry’s passing though, so the room had been collecting dust for months. Having the sheriff living under her roof might cause trouble, but Chloe could use the extra money. “I have a room upstairs.” 

The sheriff’s eyebrows shot up. “Here?” 

“It hasn’t been lived in in a couple of years. It’s small but functional, you’d have to share the bathroom with my son and I, however.” 

“That’s no problem at all,” Rebecca said. “May I see it?” 

“Oh, of course. Let me lock up first,” Chloe said, rounding the corner to twist the lock and flip the sign. She then pointed towards the back of the store. “This way.” 

Hiking up her skirts with one hand, Chloe started climbing the narrow staircase, Rebecca’s own steps echoing behind her. She led her down the corridor to the last door on the right, forcing it open with a push of her shoulder. 

“Door’s a bit temperamental, but you’ll get the swing of it,” Chloe said as she stepped inside. 

The room was indeed simple: a single bed was tucked against the wall, beneath a window overlooking Main Street. There was an old mahogany wardrobe in the corner and a rocking chair at the foot of the bed. 

“Like I said, it isn’t much.” 

“I don’t need much,” Rebecca mused aloud as she peered through the window. The sheriff’s office sat only a short walk away. “How much are you askin’?” 

Chloe hadn’t thought of that at all. “Depends, will you be needing breakfast and dinner?” 

A tiny smirk curved Rebecca’s lips. “Depends, how good of a cook are you?” 

Chloe laughed before she could help it. “I’ve never had any complaints.” 

“Alright then, I’m willing to take that risk,” Rebecca quipped, which drew another chuckle from Chloe. 

“Well then, we can make it $1.50 a night with breakfast and dinner.” 

“Seems fair. I’ll pay you for the whole month right now.” 

If Chloe was surprised and a little unsure about the sheriff lasting a whole month in this town, she didn’t show it. “Perfect. And for your horse, you should go to Jeremiah. He’s the blacksmith, should have a free spot in his stable for you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll head there right now.” 

Chloe nodded, starting to head out. “Oh, and dinner is at seven sharp.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

An hour later, Beca stepped into the dining room, setting her hat on the back of the vacant chair. Oliver gaped, causing both adults to chuckle. 

“The boarding house is full, so Ms. Mitchell is renting the room across from yours, honey. She’ll be staying with us for a little while,” Chloe explained as she set the pot of stew down in the center of the table and took Oliver’s bowl. 

“Everybody was talking about you at school today!” 

“Is that right?” Rebecca asked him with a smirk. “Something tells me it wasn’t just at your school, buddy.” 

“Tomorrow I can tell everyone you’re living with us!” 

Chloe scooped a ladleful of stew into Oliver’s bowl, then set it down in front of him. “Renting a room from us, Oliver.” She tutted when Oliver immediately grabbed his fork. “Prayer first, sweetheart.” 

She took Beca’s bowl next, giving her two servings, then her own. Once she was seated, she laced her hands together and nodded Oliver’s way. “Go ahead.” 

Oliver mimicked her movements and closed his eyes. "Dear Lord, thank You for the food and thank You for Mama and thank You for Sheriff Rebecca finding a place to live because the boarding house was full. Amen."

Chloe stifled another laugh as she opened her eyes and took her napkin, laying it across her lap. “That was certainly thorough.” 

“I remembered everything!” He wolfed down a spoonful of stew, focus zeroing in on their guest. “Can I see your badge??” 

“It’s in my room. I can show it to you later as long as your mother is okay with it.” 

“Perhaps after you’ve washed up for bed,” Chloe told him. “You have school tomorrow. Rebecca being here doesn’t change your routine.” 

“Please, call me Beca,” the sheriff said. “I never go by Rebecca, except for official matters, of course.” 

Chloe nodded, then glanced at her son. “It’s still Ms. Mitchell for you, young man.” 

“Yes, mother.” He was quiet just long enough to eat another spoonful, chew and swallow. “Did you ever kill anybody?” 

“Oliver!” 

Beca snickered. “It’s okay. I don’t mind answering questions. And no thankfully, I haven’t. I’d like to avoid it as much as possible, my only goal is to arrest the bad people.” 

“What’s your horse’s name?” 

“Takoda.” 

“That’s an Indian name!” 

“Well, he’s an Indian horse.” 

Oliver gasped. “You stole him from the Indians??” 

“No, no,” Beca clarified, stifling another laugh. “He was a gift from them.” 

The more Chloe listened, the more intrigued she felt about Beca and her story. Oliver entertained most of dinner with his questions, but thankfully Beca didn’t seem to mind too much. 

“Alright, go wash up for bed, mister.” 

“But–” 

Chloe gave him a look that shut him up. “Now.” 

Oliver sighed but obeyed, laying his napkin down on the table before sliding down from his chair. “Goodnight, Ms. Mitchell.” 

“Night, buddy.” 

Chloe waited until his footsteps had faded up the stairs before speaking. “I apologize about him. We haven’t had any guests in a long while.” 

“I don’t mind,” Beca assured her. “I promise.” 

The sheriff stood and started gathering plates, taking them to the washing basin. “Oh, please let me do that, Beca.” 

Beca shook her head, casting Chloe a small smile over her shoulder. “Least I can do after a wonderful dinner.” 

Chloe found herself smiling back. “Thank you. I suppose I’ll go check on Oliver.” She stood up and smoothed down her skirts, then plucked one of the two oil lamps from the table. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Chloe.” 

*

Having a guest around turned out to be very pleasant. Chloe hadn’t realized how lonely she had been feeling for the past year. She had close friends of course, but it was nice to have another adult at the table. Oliver was naturally ecstatic about it, asking Beca all sorts of questions about her day. 

The rest of the town however, had many strong opinions about having a woman sheriff. Chloe’s store became unusually busier, not because people needed supplies, but simply because they wanted to gossip. 

“The territory couldn’t find a proper sheriff?” 

“I’ve started a petition, would you like to sign it?” 

Chloe sighed as she overheard Mr. Jenkins and Mrs. Perry (who else?) talking while she stacked canned goods.

“What’s wrong with Ms. Mitchell?” She eventually asked, even though she should know better and stay out of it. 

“No offense to the lady, but a sheriff ought to be a man,” Mr. Jenkins answered. 

Chloe planted both hands on her hips. “And why’s that?” 

That earned her a scoff. “Because that’s how it’s always been.” 

“That’s not a valid answer,” Chloe told him. “Women couldn’t own their own businesses decades ago, do you have any complaints about how I manage mine?” 

“What happens when trouble comes to town?” Mrs. Perry pressed. 

“I suspect she will take care of it like any man would,” Chloe said, growing a little exasperated. “Look, she rode all the way across the territory by herself, which is something most men in town would never attempt to do because of how dangerous it can get out there. That should count for something.” 

That managed to shut them up for a blissful second. 

“I hear she’s hired a hand,” Mr. Jenkins piped up. “A man.” 

“Well there, nothing to worry about then,” Chloe pointed out, raising an eyebrow. She wondered why Beca hadn’t mentioned it, but then again, they’d only known each other a few days. 

“He’s half-Indian.” 

Mrs. Perry gasped. “Good Lord have mercy on us.” 

Chloe pursed her lips in a weak attempt not to speak her mind. It lasted exactly three seconds. 

“Have any of you actually spoken with Sheriff Mitchell?” When she was met with predictable silence, she continued. “Then you don’t know whether she’s capable or not. And I’m ashamed of your lack of manners, welcoming a newcomer with such wariness. It isn’t very Christian of you.” 

While Mrs. Perry looked appalled by Chloe’s audacity, Mr. Jenkins seemed uncomfortable. 

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t be so hasty in our judgment,” he eventually said with a nod. 

Mrs. Perry’s head swiveled towards him. Her mouth fell agape. “What about my petition, John?” 

The older cowboy shook his head. “I’ll give the kid a couple of weeks, see what she’s worth.” 

A soft smile curved Chloe’s lips. Small steps. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate your support.” 

Chloe’s day quietened after that, as most end of days. She was just about to finish counting her register drawer when two men walked in. She stiffened almost instantly, her instincts kicking in. 

They weren’t ranch hands, or farmers. Their coats were dusty from travel and they both carried that type of confidence that could only mean trouble. 

“Good afternoon,” Chloe greeted, her hand reaching out to rest on the neck of her Winchester set against her side of the counter out of precaution. “How can I help you?” 

The men wandered along the wall of supplies without picking up a single item. “You own this place?” 

“I do.” 

The taller one’s gaze swept across the room. “No husband?” 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

The outlaw one chuckled, glancing at his friend. 

Chloe knew that look, she’d seen it before. Woman alone, easy prey. She watched as the shorter one locked the door, its quiet click magnifying the tension floating in the room. 

The other one stepped closer, his hand resting on the holstered revolver at his hip. “Open the register.” 

Chloe gritted her teeth, trying to ignore how hard her heart was beating against her ribs. Steady, she told herself. “I will not do that.” 

The leader barked out a laugh. “You hear that, Murph?” He looked towards his counterpart, smirking. “We got ourselves a feisty one.” 

Chloe chose that second of distraction to raise her weapon, aiming it straight at his chest. His smirk dropped. “I think you should leave,” Chloe muttered. 

Once his shock had seemingly faded, the leader chuckled. “Come on. We all know you won’t shoot.” 

Chloe’s finger, which had been resting alongside the trigger, now shifted to lay on it. “Try me. We all know I’ll do more damage.” 

“You’re bluffing.” 

Chloe worked the lever, the sound cracking the room like a whip. “You’ve got ten seconds to leave my store.” 

Her gaze jumped back and forth between the two men, as sharp and steady as a hawk's. When the younger one pulled his pistol out, Chloe shot it clean out of his hands. 

“Jesus!” 

By the time his weapon hit the floor, Chloe had aimed her Winchester back at the leader’s chest. “I won’t ask again. Put your gun down on the counter. Now.” 

The man clenched his jaw, then did as told. Chloe grabbed it and tucked it under the counter, freezing when she heard a floorboard creak behind her. 

She spun around, Winchester ready to fire. 

“Woah!” Beca exclaimed, her own gun out and brandished. “It’s just me.” 

Chloe exhaled a breath, turning back to have eyes on the outlaws. “Took you long enough.” 

A smirk twisted Beca’s lips. “Seems like you’ve got it covered.” 

“I do.” 

Beca took out a pair of handcuffs. “Mind if I take over?” 

“Please.” 

Moments later, both men were handcuffed. Only then did Chloe lower her Winchester. 

The leader spat on the floor on his way out. “Crazy woman.” 

Beca pushed him forward, making him stumble out of the store. “I’d stop talking if I were you.” 

As the door shut behind them, Chloe felt the tension flood out of her so fast it was almost dizzying. She grabbed a sealed bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind her and twisted it open, taking a long swig. 

Her eyes flew back to the door when she heard the bell. To her surprise (and relief), it was only Beca. 

“Are you alright?” 

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Just another Tuesday,” she said, cracking a small smile. “Shouldn’t you be dealing with your prisoners?” 

“My partner is handling it,” Beca told her as she approached, removing her hat and smoothing a hand over her braided hair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“A little shaken,” Chloe admitted. “But I’ll be alright.” 

“Not a first time occurance?” 

A humorless laugh flitted past Chloe’s lips. “No.” She glanced down briefly. “I’ve never had two at once before. That’s all.” 

“You handled it very well,” Beca murmured. “Most people would have handed them the money.” 

Chloe shrugged, meeting Beca’s eyes. “Most people don’t have an inventory to pay for.” She puffed out another breath. “I’m just relieved Oliver wasn’t there.” 

As if on cue, the door swung open and Oliver ran in. 

“The sheriff’s arrested two outlaws!” He froze upon noticing none other than the sheriff herself standing on the other side of the room. “Everyone is talking about you!” 

Chloe didn’t need him to know where the attempted robbery had happened. “Sheriff Mitchell was just telling me about it,” she told her son, mustering a smile. 

Beca held Chloe’s gaze for a second, then put her hat back on. “I should head back, I’ve got some paperwork to fill out before the deputy comes by to take them to the county jail.” She turned back once she’d reached the door. “I might be late for dinner.” 

Chloe shook her head dismissively. “You’ve got a proper excuse.” 

Beca ruffled Oliver’s hair before stepping out, shutting the door on her way out.

Chloe decided to lock up moments after, feeling too shaken up still to deal with any customers or worse, gossip. 

She helped Oliver with his homework, then prepared some dinner for the two of them, as Beca wasn’t back yet. 

The sheriff came in just as Chloe came down from tucking Oliver in. “Oh, hey. Sorry I missed dinner. Paperwork.” 

Chloe chuckled. “Yes, I know what that’s like.” She nodded towards the pot sitting on the stove. “I’ve kept it warm for you.” 

“Thank you, Chloe,” Beca said as she headed to the wash basin and grabbed the soap to scrub her hands clean. “The deputy just left with your two outlaws.” 

“Good.” Chloe sat down, waiting for Beca to join her before speaking. “I spent most of the afternoon answering questions about you.” 

“That doesn’t sound good.” Beca rose the spoonful of soup to her lips and swallowed. “Alright, tell me the damage.” 

“Most of them are concerned that you’re a woman, but that would not surprise you,” Chloe started. “Mr. Jenkins heard about you hiring someone. Half-Indian, he’s heard.” 

“Ah, yes. I figured that would ruffle some feathers,” Beca said, letting out a quiet snicker. “Bill has always been my right-hand man.” 

“His name is Bill?” 

Beca nods. “White name. Indian name is Chaska.” 

“How did you two meet?” 

She’d been curious about Beca’s ties to the Indians ever since she mentioned being gifted a horse from them. 

“We grew up together.” Beca ripped off a piece of bread and dipped it into the stew, then paused, as though deciding how much she wanted to tell Chloe. “I was raised by Cherokees after my parents died of typhoid fever when I was about two.” 

“Oh,” Chloe breathed out. “I’m sorry. About your parents dying.” 

Beca briefly met her eyes. “I was too young to remember any of it. Cherokees hunters passing by the farm found me wailing on the porch.” She took a bite of bread and chewed. “They brought me back to their tribe and I grew up among them. Learned everything there is to know about hunting and trailing, and basic herbal medicine.” 

“That is fascinating,” Chloe mused out loud. 

Silence stretched out for a bit as Beca ate. “So what else are people saying about me?” 

“Mrs. Perry wondered what would happen when outlaws came through town.” 

“Apparently, we found out,” Beca said. “I can’t take the credit, though. You did most of the work.” 

“You should,” Chloe told her, then shrugged. “I don’t need anyone to know I held them at gunpoint. Especially not Oliver. And if it helps with your reputation, which I’m certain it will, then we should keep it a secret.” 

Beca nodded, smirking a little. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Chloe.” 

“Were you a sheriff before?” 

“Deputy.” 

“And people reacted the same way?” 

Beca released a soft laugh. “Sometimes worse.” 

“Why keep doing it, then?” 

Beca gave her a half-shrug. “Because I’m good at it.” Her confidence didn’t come across as arrogance, only fact. “It might be hard to believe after today, where all I did was cuff them,” she added with a laugh. 

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I’ll leave it all to you next time. I’m not very keen on pointing a gun at people.” 

“Noted.” For a moment they only looked at each other in comfortable silence. “What about you?” 

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “What about me?” 

“You run a store by yourself.” 

“I’d hoped we’d continue discussing you,” Chloe admitted, her expression sheepish. 

“No such luck,” Beca said, a teasing lilt in her tone. “Besides, I’ve shared more about myself than I usually do with people I’ve met only a week ago.” 

“That is fair,” Chloe murmured, briefly looking down. “My husband died last year.” The words still hurt, but less than they used to.  “It was a lot at first, especially dealing with the suppliers. They tried to take advantage of me being a woman more than once. I had to grow a thicker shell.” 

Something akin to admiration danced in Beca’s gaze. “I think that’s awfully courageous.” 

“Says the woman sheriff,” Chloe joked, pulling a soft chuckle from the other woman. Silence settled between them once more, save for the wind rattling against the windows. Chloe let out a little sigh. “I should head up.” 

Beca’s head bobbed in a nod. “Sure thing. Thank you for keeping my dinner warm.” 

Chloe cast her a gentle smile as she rose to her feet. “Goodnight, Beca.” 

“Night, Chloe.” 

*

Whenever the store was quiet and Chloe had taken care of her books and inventory, she would sit out on the porch to read her book or simply watch people walk or ride by. 

Sometimes, Aubrey would join her for an iced tea after school was out. 

“So what do you make of the new sheriff?” Aubrey asked as she stirred the ice cubes around in her glass. 

Ordering a block of ice had been one of Chloe’s best decisions that year. “I was wondering when you’d ask me that,” Chloe teased. “You’ve held off unexpectedly well.” 

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I do have some manners. I suppose she cannot be that awful if you’re renting her a room.” 

“Far from awful,” Chloe confirmed. A small yet genuine smile appeared as her mind drifted to the past three weeks of living with the new sheriff. “I think she is a good person. Trustworthy. Which is important for a sheriff.” 

“And a friend,” Aubrey added. 

Chloe nodded. “And a friend.” Because yes, Beca had become just that. 

Late night conversations had become a ritual, whether it be over the dinner Beca had missed because of work, or a glass of gin and soda. Chloe had grown fond of those moments in the candlelight, where the rest of the world would simply disappear. 

She noticed Aubrey’s odd expression and snapped out of her reverie. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” Aubrey said after a beat, which was uncharacteristic of her; if she had something on her mind, she tended to say it. 

Later that night, Beca got in just after eight. 

“Busy day?” Chloe asked as she kneaded her dough on the counter, casting Beca a smile over her shoulder. 

“Cattle thieves,” Beca replied, heading to the washing basin. “We caught them, though. And managed to round up the cattle. They were Mr. Dawson’s.” 

“He must have been relieved.” 

“Yeah. Shook my hand and bought me a drink at the saloon,” Beca told her. “Said I was a good sheriff.” 

“Look at you go,” Chloe praised with a grin. “I’m happy people are starting to realize your worth.” 

“Thank you.” Beca grabbed a bowl and helped herself to the lentils and lard Chloe had made earlier. “Smells good.” 

“Oliver had two servings earlier,” Chloe shared, chuckling. She shaped the ball of dough into an oval, then scooped it up and into the waiting pot. After sliding it into the warm oven, she washed her hands and plucked a bottle from the shelf. “Port?” 

“Sure.” Chloe grabbed two glasses and joined her at the table. “So I heard there would be a vacant room at the boarding house starting next week.” 

Chloe stilled her pouring as she registered the information. “Oh?” 

“Yeah, Mrs. Johnson told me while I was at the saloon,” Beca said. Chloe could feel her eyes on her as she finished pouring. “So I’ll be out of your hair soon.” 

The thought of Beca leaving created a hollow feeling in the pit of Chloe’s stomach, but she ignored it. “There’s no rush.” 

Beca took a sip from her port, her gaze remaining on Chloe. “I’m afraid the food won’t be as tasty, though.” 

“Mrs. Johnson is a decent cook,” Chloe told her. “And you can always come over for dinner once in a while?” 

“I’d be keen,” Beca said, giving her one of those rare smiles she seemed to reserve only for Chloe or Oliver. She opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it again. 

Chloe tilted her head to the side. “What is it?” 

Beca shook her head and gazed back down at her bowl, huffing out a small laugh. “It’s… nothing. Ignore me.” 

Chloe was usually good at reading people and this instance was no exception. “You could also stay, you know.” 

Beca looked up at that, almost too quickly. “Here?” 

Chloe nodded. “Yes. Oliver likes having you around, and the rent helps.” She knew deep down it wasn’t just that, but it felt scary to open that door. “And…” Her tone lowered to a shy murmur as she shrugged, trying to internally minimize those feelings she wasn’t sure she truly understood. “It’s been nice to have someone around.” 

Beca held her gaze for a few beats. “I’ve liked being here, too.” 

Chloe felt a rush of oxygen flood her lungs. “Then it’s settled,” she decided with a smile. “Besides, Mrs. Johnson’s cooking isn’t that decent.” 

An unbridled laugh flew past Beca’s lips. “I knew it.” 

Chloe was about to retort something, when she heard the stairs creak behind her. At the top of them stood Oliver, hair disheveled from sleep. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She asked, twisting in her chair as Oliver came down. 

“I had a bad dream,” he mumbled when he reached the bottom, climbing up onto Chloe’s lap. “Bad men came with their guns.” 

Chloe brushed her lips across his forehead, sharing a glance with Beca. “Well, that won’t happen. Not with Sheriff Mitchell living in our house.” 

“I can go check that there are no bad men upstairs if you’d like, Oliver,” Beca offered, receiving a tiny nod in response. Beca winked. “I’m on it.” 

Chloe cuddled Oliver while Beca went upstairs, humming a song to calm him down. It wasn’t long before Beca returned. 

“No bad men, buddy,” she said. “I promise.” 

Chloe smiled in thanks and headed up the stairs to tuck him in. She sang him another lullaby until he fell back asleep, drawing the door closed on her way out. 

“You have a lovely voice,” Beca told her when she made it back down the stairs. 

Chloe felt the top of her cheeks redden. “Oh. Thank you.” She grabbed the paper sitting at the end of the table. “The traveling carnival is coming to town next week. I think I’ll take Oliver, if you’d like to join us.” 

“I’ll be on duty, but I think I can still check out a few stalls with you. Maybe win a plush animal for Oliver at the gun stand.” 

Chloe chuckled. “He’ll love that.” 

“Given your shooting abilities, you could do it too,” Beca quipped next. “Not everyone can disarm an outlaw with a Winchester. A wonder you didn’t shoot off any fingers in the process. How did you become such a good shot?” 

“My father taught me,” Chloe said. “He used to say that everyone should know how to defend themselves, not only boys. We would also go out for long rides in the plains.” A smile curved her lips over the memories. “I miss that.” 

“Riding a horse is the closest thing to freedom that I can think of,” Beca murmured, matching Chloe’s smile. She stifled a yawn and sighed. “I suppose I should head to bed.” 

“I need to wait until my bread is done baking but you go ahead,” Chloe said. “And thank you for checking for any bad men earlier.” 

Beca nodded, giving Chloe a lopsided smile. “My pleasure.” 

When Chloe headed down the following morning, she found Beca packing food in a basket. She cocked an eyebrow as she reached the last step. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“Oh, hey,” Beca greeted, spinning around. Chloe could instantly tell she was nervous, rocking back on her heels. “So I was thinking about what you said last night, about missing those horse rides. Since it’s Sunday and your store isn’t open, I thought you, Oliver and I could take a ride to the creek and have a picnic.” 

Chloe feels a weird fluttering in her belly, something that has been happening quite a bit lately. “That’s a wonderful idea.” 

“I know you go to Church, so we can leave after.” 

Chloe nodded, moving to the waiting pot of coffee sitting on the stove. She plucked an enamel mug from its hook. “Would you like to come with us?” 

Beca scrunched up her nose. “Church isn’t really my thing,” she said. “But I’ll be waiting for you and two horses right outside.” 

“Oliver will be thrilled,” Chloe told her as she leaned back against the stove, cupping her cup of coffee with both hands. “Let’s not tell him before mass though, or he won’t sit still.” 

Beca laughed. “Noted.” She nodded towards the basket, looking sheepish. “Just so you know, I stole all the food for the picnic from your store because well, I can’t cook at all. But I’ve written everything down and plan on paying for it tomorrow when you open your register.” 

Chloe giggled as Beca rambled on. “It’s fine, Beca.” 

Safe to say Oliver was thrilled when Chloe told him about the surprise as they exited the church. Beca was waiting with her horse and another one Chloe recognized as Chaska’s. 

“I’m riding with the sheriff!” Oliver announced, running off before Chloe could object. 

She placed her hands on her hips, watching as her son made a beeline for Beca’s horse. “Oh, alright then.” 

Chuckling, she stepped closer to Chaska’s horse and untied the reins from the post while Beca hoisted Oliver up and mounted to settle behind him.

“I’m on a horse, Mama!” 

Chloe felt her heart glow as she took the reins. She was a little concerned about them riding bareback, but she trusted Beca. “I see that, sweetheart. A real cowboy.” 

As they started riding out of town, Oliver grinning wide, Chloe met Beca’s eyes, her own shining with the kind of happiness she hadn’t experienced in a long while. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Beca asked as they rode past the town welcome sign. 

The prairie stretched endlessly around them. There were no fences or buildings out there, only open land rolling beneath a bright blue sky. 

“I just… I love this,” Chloe said softly, inhaling a lungful of fresh air. She hadn’t realized how much she needed a day away from town, the store and her responsibilities. “Thank you for doing this for us.” 

“You’ve done plenty for me in the past month,” Beca pointed out with a little smile. 

Chloe’s attention snapped to Oliver when he gasped, pointing ahead. “Look!” 

A jackrabbit darted through the grass, paused to look at them, then sprang away. 

“It’s fast,” Oliver observed in awe. 

“A jackrabbit stole some of my food once. I tried to chase it but fell facefirst in the dust,” Beca said. 

Oliver laughed so hard he nearly fell off their horse. 

“Woah easy there, Deputy,” Beca laughed, tightening her hold on him. “You don’t want to give your Ma a heart attack, do you?” 

By the time they reached the creek, the sun sat high overhead. Cottonwood trees lined the banks of the river, leaves fluttering softly in the breeze. 

Oliver slid off the horse before either woman had fully dismounted. 

“Oliver!” 

“I’m fine!” He shouted back as he ran towards the river, somehow managing to take off his shoes in the process. 

Chloe shook her head and sighed. “That child will be the death of me someday.” 

Beca snickered as she grabbed both horses and walked them towards a tree, tying them up to its trunk. Then, she unfastened the rolled blanket tied to Chloe’s saddle and spread it out in the shade by the river. 

Chloe sat down while Beca went to retrieve the basket, keeping a cautious eye on Oliver as he splashed around ankle-deep in the water. 

“I also stole the bread you made last night,” Beca admitted as she opened the basket. 

Chloe gasped playfully. “How dare you.” 

Inside the basket lay three apples, some beef jerky, a thick slice of cheese and a small jar of what looked like blackberry preserve. 

“Where did you get the cheese from?” Chloe asked, brow furrowed. “It’s so difficult to get that I rarely have it in the store.” And she knew for a fact she was still expecting a delivery. 

“I have contacts,” Beca said, smirking a little. “And Mr. Dawson gave me the preserve as a thank you for getting his cattle back.” 

Chloe hummed. “He’s a sweet man. And his wife Greta is a great cook.” 

“Maybe next time I can actually try to cook something,” Beca told her, snickering. 

Chloe’s belly fluttered over the use of next time. She quickly pushed that untoward feeling away. She took a deep breath through her nose and focused on taking the food out. 

Oliver came running back, carrying something. “Look what I found! A skull!” 

Beca gently took it and examined it. “That looks like a beaver, buddy,” she said as she traced the long teeth protruding from the skull. “See those teeth?” 

Oliver nodded, then looked at his mom. “May I keep it?” 

“Sure, honey.” 

“Go put it in the saddlebags so we don’t forget it,” Beca told him, watching as Oliver ran off to do so. 

Oliver asked Beca for more sheriff stories while they ate, hanging on to every single word leaving her lips. They both headed to the river after that, Beca teaching Oliver how to skip stones across the water. 

Chloe watched from beneath the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. The breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and sage as across the creek, Oliver giggled at something Beca had said. 

Beca splashed some water towards him, the boy retaliating immediately. In a matter of seconds, both were soaked. 

“Beca,” Chloe called out in a chiding tone. “You’re supposed to be the responsible adult here.” 

Beca grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “It’s hot.” 

As the afternoon sun turned golden, Oliver finally collapsed across the blanket, falling asleep within minutes. 

“I didn’t realize I needed a day away from town this badly,” Chloe told Beca quietly, carding her fingers through Oliver’s brown curls back and forth. 

“We should make it a Sunday thing,” Beca said as she rested against the tree trunk, legs stretched out in front of her. “All three of us.” 

Chloe felt her heart respond in a similar way as before. It reminded her of her first dates with Henry, leaving no doubt about the nature of those feelings she had developed for the other woman. 

“I’d enjoy that,” she said, despite her best judgment that she shouldn’t encourage those feelings. “And I know for a fact Oliver would, too.” 

“He’s a great kid,” Beca murmured. “You’re doing a brilliant job.” 

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know if I can take much credit for his personality.” 

“The way you’re raising him influences the way he acts, so I think you can take the credit.” 

“Thanks,” Chloe said, briefly meeting Beca’s eyes. “I’m really glad you found your way to our town.” 

Beca held her gaze for a long moment, long enough for Chloe’s heart to start beating faster. “Me too.” 

Chloe started to wonder if perhaps, Beca felt that same pull. 

*

The annual fair turned Main Street into one thrilling party. Colorful banners hung between buildings, children ran around clutching ribbons and sweets, people merrily danced to the fiddle. 

“Mama, look!” 

Oliver had been awake since before sunrise, begging her to close the store earlier. Chloe had eventually caved around two in the afternoon, since most people in town were at the fair anyway and work was slow. 

Hand clasped around one of his, Chloe followed his pointed finger to a man juggling three balls in the air. 

Oliver then spotted a dog walking in a circle on its hind legs. 

“Mama, look!” 

Chloe smiled, stifling a laugh. “I’m looking, baby.” 

Oliver’s focus shifted abruptly, his entire face lighting up. “Sheriff!” 

Beca was standing in front of the saloon, talking to two of her deputies and her right-hand man. She had told Chloe a few days ago that she had called for reinforcements specifically for the fair. That earned her a compliment from Mrs. Perry, to Chloe’s shock. 

People were starting to come around with the idea of having a woman sheriff, much to Chloe’s relief. It had only been two-and-a-half months, yet she couldn’t really picture a life without Beca. 

Sunday outings had quickly become a tradition after that picnic. They either went back to the creek or for long rides through the plains when it wasn’t too hot. Beca taught Oliver how to track animals and showed Chloe some of the medicinal herbs the Lakota used to heal countless ailments. 

Beca’s serious expression broke into a grin when she saw Oliver running towards her. “Hey there, Deputy.” 

Oliver beamed over the name. “Mama closed the store so we could come!” 

Beca raised her eyes to meet Chloe’s. “Hey there.” 

“Hi,” Chloe greeted back, suddenly feeling bashful. They hadn’t seen much of each other over the past three days as Beca had been busy, and Chloe had missed her more than she would have liked to admit. “Would you like to walk around with us, or are you too busy?” 

“I’ll always make time for the two of you,” Beca said, then nodded to her deputies. “You’ve got things handled for a bit?” 

One of them tipped his hat at Beca. “Yes, boss.” 

“Come on,” Beca told Oliver, taking his hand. “What do you want to see first?” 

“The shooting stall!” 

Chloe fell into step with them on Oliver’s other side as they headed there, walking past a livestock exhibit and a blacksmith demonstration on their way to the shooting gallery. 

The owner had arranged rows of glass bottles on a shelf. Prizes were displayed overhead: wooden trains, dolls and even a couple of stuffed animals. 

“Three shots for a nickel!” 

Beca reached into her pants’ pocket, handing a coin to the owner, who grabbed a rifle and started loading it. 

“Not sure I’ll be as good as you,” Beca quipped over to Chloe as she took the weapon. 

Chloe chuckled. “As long as you try your best, you’ll get there eventually.”  

Her teasing was met with a heatless glare. “You offering to teach me, Ms. Beale?” 

Chloe’s shoulder lifted in a nonchalant sort of shrug. “Perhaps.” 

Beca hummed, holding her gaze for a moment before she turned to the targets, raising her rifle. Her posture steadied as she focused, one eye closing. 

One of the bottles shattered with the first shot. Oliver gasped. “Again!” 

Beca laughed as she cranked the lever for her next shot. Three seconds later, the shelf was wiped clean of bottles. The crowd nearby broke out into cheers as Beca handed the rifle back. 

“Wow,” Oliver breathed out, not daring to blink. 

“Take your pick,” the owner told Beca, motioning towards the available prizes. 

Beca glanced down at Chloe’s son. “What would you like, little man?” 

Oliver looked as though he’d just been told Christmas was tomorrow. He carefully scanned the options. “The train!” 

“The train it is,” Beca said, giving the man a nod. She accepted the prize and gave it to Oliver. 

“Thank you!” Oliver exclaimed, marveling at his newest toy. “It’s perfect!” 

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Beca ruffled his hair, then looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“Impressed?” 

Chloe had to bite down on her bottom lip not to grin too widely. “Well, you’re the sheriff. People expect you to be a good shot.” 

Behind them, Chloe overheard Mr. Dawson talking to Mr. Jenkins. “Told you she could shoot.” 

Beca seemed to pretend like she hadn’t heard it, but Chloe could tell she felt proud people had seen what she could do. “Shall we make a stop at the candy stall before I have to head back?” 

Chloe groaned. “You don’t think my child is energized enough as it is?” 

A short laugh escaped Beca. “Right, sorry.” 

But the harm was already done. “I want candies!” 

Chloe shot Beca a look that definitely lacked any resentment. “Good job, sheriff.” 

Beca grimaced and held her hands up. “I’ll be on dish duty the whole week as punishment.” 

“Acceptable terms.” 

Upon running into Aubrey on the way to the candy stall, Chloe told Oliver and Beca to go on ahead without her. 

“Where did Oliver get that train?” Aubrey asked as they watched the pair go. 

“Beca won it for him at the shooting gallery.” 

“He really likes her, doesn’t he?” Aubrey asked. “The other day he told the other kids about how she’d taught him to recognize animal tracks.” 

Chloe nodded, smiling. “She’s great with him.” 

“And with you,” Aubrey said. “You’ve been smiling a lot ever since she came around.” 

“The company is really nice,” Chloe told her friend. She wondered if Aubrey meant something else by that, her heartbeat picking up with slight anxiety. 

“I’m glad,” Aubrey murmured. “You’ve found your spark back.” 

“Mama, we bought you something!” 

Chloe turned around to find Oliver running back. He was carrying a lollipop (only one, thankfully) while Beca held a bag of caramelized almonds. She handed it to Chloe. 

“These are your favorite, right?” 

Chloe felt a little speechless over Beca remembering that small detail about her. It was those little thoughtful things she did that made her belly flutter. 

“They are, thank you,” Chloe said as she took them, ignoring Aubrey’s curious gaze on her. 

“Well, I should get back to my guys,” Beca told them. “Don’t wait up tonight, I won’t be back until late.” She tipped her hat towards Aubrey. “Ms. Posen.” 

Aubrey nodded back. “Sheriff.” 

The fair finally wound down sometime after sunset. Oliver was half-asleep on his feet by the time they made it home. 

“Mama?” He asked just as Chloe was tucking him in. 

Chloe sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yes, sweetheart?” 

“Do you think the sheriff could beat anyone at the shooting gallery?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Oliver smiled sleepily. “Maybe one day I’ll shoot like her.” 

Chloe hummed, running her fingertips through his hair. “Maybe. But first, a good night's sleep.” She bent down to kiss his forehead. “Sweet dreams, honey.” 

After making sure he’d fallen asleep, Chloe headed downstairs to tidy up a bit, hoping she might stay up long enough to see Beca. When midnight struck and following another stubborn yawn, she gave in and headed to bed, falling asleep within minutes.

A crash woke her with a jolt. For a second, Chloe didn’t know where she was, until her sleepiness cleared. She sat upright and listened. 

Drawers were pulled, curses muttered. Someone was in the house, and Beca wasn’t here. 

Grabbing her revolver from under her mattress, Chloe forwent her robe and crept downstairs in only her sleep chemise, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

Relief flooded her when she realized from the top of the stairs that it was only Beca. 

“Beca?” She called in a whisper as she made her way down. 

Beca sat at the table, several supplies scattered around her: a basin of water, whiskey, bandages and scissors. Only a few seconds later did Chloe notice her bloodied arm. 

“What happened?” 

Beca winced, then sighed. “Bullet graze. It’s nothing.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes and made her way over, setting the revolver down on the tabletop. Beca raised an eyebrow. 

“What were you doing with that?” 

“I thought you were a thief,” Chloe said quickly. “How long ago did it happen?” 

“A few hours.” 

Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “A few hours?” 

Beca shrugged. “I was busy.” 

Chloe shook her head, feeling at a loss as to what to say. “Take off your shirt.” 

“You’re being incredibly bossy,” Beca said quietly, but did as told, hissing as she peeled her shirt off her shoulder and down her injured arm. 

“How did it happen?” Chloe asked as she took the oil lamp and brought it closer to the wound to take a proper look. 

“Horse thief outside the saloon. Chased him down main street, he shot at me,” Beca explained. “Bill caught him a minute later, he’s currently sitting in the cell.” 

“Good. It doesn’t look too deep. No need for stitches.” 

“How do you know?” 

“My father was a doctor. He taught me some things.” 

“You really are full of surprises, Mrs. Beale.” 

Chloe looked away, knowing she would blush if she met Beca’s eyes. She grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it to the wound. 

“Jesus,” Beca cursed, wincing. “A little warning next time?” 

“Oh, would you stop acting like a child?” Chloe reprimanded with a laugh. “It’s a scratch.” 

Beca scoffed a little and seemed about to say something, but she took a swig of whiskey instead. “Just do it.” 

Chloe pressed her lips together hard to keep a laugh from bursting past them. She took the bottle from Beca’s hand and poured some whiskey over the cloth, then started to clean the wound.

Beca groaned and gritted her teeth, throwing her head back. “Damn!” 

“Let’s hold off on the profanities under my roof, sheriff,” Chloe warned as she grabbed a bandage roll to dress the cut. 

“I apologize, Chloe,” Beca said softly. “I shall refrain.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Did Oliver have fun at the fair?” Beca asked while Chloe secured the bandage with a safety pin. 

“He certainly did,” Chloe told her, smiling. “His favorite part was the shooting demonstration, though.” 

Beca smiled back. “He looked so happy with his train.” 

“He fell asleep with it in his bed,” Chloe shared with a small laugh. “Done. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“You are a talented nurse,” Beca said. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Chloe stood and plucked a couple of glasses from the shelf, setting them on the table. “Pour us a drink while I go get some ice.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Chloe heard Beca chuckle as she headed to the store’s storage room, where she kept the ice box. She returned moments later with two cut ice cubes and dropped them into both glasses. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Beca muttered as she took her drink and leaned back in her chair. 

“It’s alright,” Chloe assured her. “I tried to stay up until you were home.” 

Home. It slipped out so naturally Chloe almost didn’t notice. If Beca did, she didn’t let it show. 

“I was sort of hoping you would be? Before the thief chase, I mean. Not because I was hoping you’d take care of the cut.” Beca took a sip, letting her words and their meaning linger in the air between them. “I missed eating dinner with you and Oliver this week.” 

A small smile touched Chloe’s lips. “We missed you too. Oliver is excited about Sunday. Said he wants you to help him practice his slingshot technique.” 

Amusement flicked in Beca’s eyes. “That should be right up my alley.” 

“I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing for him,” Chloe said, then glanced down into the auburn liquid of her drink. “It was difficult, after his father died. Oliver would have nightmares every night and he was… quiet most days. He started doing better a couple of weeks before you arrived, but I believe you living here with us and spending so much time with him has made a huge difference.” 

Beca’s expression softened. “I’m glad.” A beat of silence followed. “May I ask what happened to your husband?” 

Chloe had never told that story before and felt her belly tighten with lingering grief. “He um, he got pneumonia. We were hit with a very rare snowstorm last year. He spent days helping out the neighbors in the cold. By the time he told me he felt sick, his condition was too serious to be cured.” 

Beca nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” 

Chloe mustered a smile, looking down at her hands. “I’m alright. The grief seems to lessen a little bit every day. I’m simply sad Oliver is growing up without a father.” 

“I understand that,” Beca said. Chloe was suddenly reminded she was an orphan from a very young age. “He is lucky to have such an incredible mother, though.” 

“That means a great deal,” Chloe admitted. Most days were spent doubting herself and her abilities to raise her child or run the store. She finished her drink and set the glass down. “I should head to bed. Who knows at what time my child will decide to wake up in the morning.” 

Beca snickered. “Night, Chloe.” 

“Night, sheriff.” 

*

By October, the prairie had begun to change; the endless summer green had faded to gold. Every evening carried the faint promise of colder weather to come. 

Chloe closed the store early that evening, craving some quality time with her son and Beca. So here she was, sitting on the porch while Beca encouraged questionable behavior. 

“Again.” 

Oliver loaded another pebble into his slingshot and rose it, tongue poking out in concentration as he aimed it at the empty tin can balanced atop a fence about twelve feet away. 

The pebble sailed through the air and missed the target by several feet. 

“Damn.” 

“Language,” Chloe called out, eyebrows knitted together. 

Oliver smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, mama.” 

“I’m blaming you for this,” Chloe quipped towards Beca. “His language has been a lot more colorful since you moved in.” 

Beca tried the sheepish smile, too, earning herself a laugh. 

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” 

The wink Beca cast her in response made her blush. Thankfully, Beca had glanced away before she could see the effect she had on Chloe, crouching beside Oliver. 

“You’re pulling too hard. I know because I used to do the same thing,” she explained patiently. “Try again, buddy.” 

Oliver nodded, focusing extra hard on his target. This time, the pebble hit the can dead center. 

Chloe cheered as Oliver beamed, turning around to make sure she’d seen it. “Great job, sweetheart.” 

Oliver glanced back at Beca. “Can you shoot again? Like at the fair but farther away?” 

Beca chuckled and nodded. “Sure. How far away?” 

Oliver dropped his sling shot and ran over to the fence, taking the three cans and moving them to the top of a large rock about twenty feet away. “Here.” 

Beca’s hand was already resting on the revolver at her hip. “Alright come back over here, buddy.” 

Oliver ran back and stood a few feet away from Beca as she took out her weapon. Chloe watched as she exhaled, taking a few seconds to focus. Then, she fired three shots rapidly, hitting each can clean off the rock. 

“Woah,” Oliver breathed out, jaw dropping. “One day I’ll shoot as well as you!” 

“Whenever you’re old enough to hold a revolver, I can teach you,” Beca told him, then turned to Chloe. “What’d you think?” 

Chloe couldn’t help but smirk. “That you’re a show-off.” 

Beca smirked right back and extended her revolver towards Chloe. “Wanna give it a go?” 

“No.” 

“Mm, I think you want to, just to try and beat me.” 

Chloe couldn’t exactly state otherwise. She had never been one to back out of a challenge. She sighed dramatically and smoothed down her skirts as she stood. “Alright.” 

Oliver’s expression was almost comical as he watched his mother head their way. He sprinted off to put the cans back up. 

“Put them on the other rock, baby,” Chloe called out. “The one further back.” 

“Oh, I see,” Beca murmured, huffing a laugh. 

“That’s really far,” Oliver shouted from his spot. 

Chloe waited until he was back to aim at her targets. She took a deep breath, then exhaled, then squeezed the trigger. 

Bam, bam, bam! 

All three tins vanished from sight, smoke lingering after each impact. 

Oliver blinked twice in slow succession, mouth agape. 

“I think you’ve rendered him speechless,” Beca murmured, leaning closer to Chloe. 

“I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” Chloe replied with a chuckle, putting the safety back on and handing the weapon back to its owner. 

Oliver finally snapped out of his daze. “You know how to shoot?” 

Chloe hummed. “My father taught me. We used to live on a farm before we moved to the city.” 

“Can I try??” 

Beca and Chloe spoke in unison. “Certainly not.” 

“But–” 

Chloe gave him a stern look. “Not for another couple of years at least, honey. Now come, you need a bath.” 

“I do not!” 

“You do, you’re stinky.” 

“I’m not!” 

Chloe scooped him up in her arms, pulling a giggle from him. “Come on.” 

“Beca, save meeeee!” Oliver shouted in between laughs. 

“Sorry, you’re on your own kid,” Beca said as she followed them back to the house. “I know better than to stand up to your mother, especially after seeing what she can do with a pistol.” 

Chloe grinned. “Smart thinking,” she quipped, letting Beca open the door for her. “You should take a bath too actually, you stink as bad as a cowboy.” 

Beca’s jaw dropped in mock-offense, while Oliver only laughed harder. 

*

October slipped quietly into November. Cold mornings arrived first, frosting the grass silver before dawn and sending customers hurrying into the general store with red noses and chilled hands.

Life settled into a comfortable rhythm, the sort of rhythm Chloe hadn't realized she'd been missing.

The store opened at sunrise, Oliver went to school, Beca disappeared each morning with a badge pinned to her vest and returned every evening covered in dust, complaints, and stories she was definitely not supposed to share. 

Most nights ended around the kitchen table, where Oliver talked enough for three people.

Beca pretended to be annoyed by it, Chloe pretended not to enjoy watching the two of them together.

Life was pleasant. Happy, even.

Chloe should have known it was too good to last. 

The first children started missing school halfway through the month. Nobody thought much of it at first; fall always brought sickness. 

Then the first child got worse. Scarlet fever, the doctor’d said. School closed until further notice and people kept to their homes for the time being, only making necessary trips to the store. 

“How many?” Chloe asked when Beca came home that night, later than usual. 

“Six so far,” Beca said, hanging her hat to its usual hook by the kitchen door. She headed straight to the basin to wash her hands. “The McNeal kid is the most serious case at the moment. The doctor isn’t very optimistic.” 

Chloe took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she willed her nerves to remain under control. Every morning and evening, she checked Oliver’s body for any rash. 

Beca stepped closer to Chloe, resting a hand on her arm. “How are you holding up?” 

“I…” She shook her head. “This is bringing up very painful memories. And I cannot stop thinking about those poor families.” 

Beca nodded slowly. Her hand dropped back to her side, and Chloe instantly missed its warmth on her skin. “The doctor said he’d called for reinforcements.” 

“That’s good.” 

Chloe’s worst fears became a reality the following morning, when Oliver woke up with a fever. 

“No,” she whispered, sitting on the edge of Oliver’s bed. “Beca!” 

Beca appeared in her doorway seconds later. She swallowed as her eyes swept over Oliver. “I’ll get the doctor.” 

By noon, red spots erupted along his skin and his fever spiked. Chloe remained by his bedside as he slept fitfully under the blankets. Each whimper felt like a knife through her heart. 

“Chloe.” 

Chloe tore her gaze away from her son to find Beca lingering by the door. “He’s getting worse,” she croaked out, standing up and turning her back to Beca as she wiped at her eyes. 

Beca crossed the room, taking her hand. “Hey.” 

A sob broke free. “I can’t lose him too, Bec,” she whispered. 

“I know.” Beca let go of her hand to rub her back in slow circles. “I’d like to try something. I can’t know for sure it’ll work, but I gotta try. For you and Oliver and the other sick kids.” 

Chloe sniffled, finding Beca’s eyes. “What is it?” 

“The tribe that raised me has a healer. People traveled days to see her. She’s helped folks with fevers before, myself included,” she explained. “I think she might be able to help Oliver and the other kids.”

“How far?” 

“About a two-day ride away if I push hard,” Beca said. 

Chloe licked her dry lips. “Is it dangerous?” 

“It’s not not dangerous?” 

It sounded like Beca had already made her decision. “When are you leaving?” 

“Jeremiah is saddling my horse.” 

Chloe took a deep, grounding breath. “You’ll be careful?” 

“I will,” Beca said, just as Chloe turned further towards her and stepped closer, sinking into her arms. She felt Beca stiffen, before she wrapped her arms around Chloe’s back, holding her tight for a handful of seconds. “I promise.” 

Moments later, Chloe stood on her porch while Beca checked her saddle one final time: extra ammunition, bedroll, supplies. 

She mounted her horse and faced Chloe. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Tell Oliver to hang on for me, alright?” 

Chloe wrapped her arms tighter around her body. “I will.” 

“See you in a few days, Chlo.” 

Beca clicked her tongue and rode west into the dusk. 

Chloe stood on her porch long after she had disappeared from sight. 

*

The first day passed slowly. The second and third seemed neverending. 

Time was measured in teaspoons of honey water and damp clothes, in fever rising and dropping, in countless prayers. Oliver spent most of his time asleep, occasionally opening his eyes, sometimes even speaking. 

“Drink a little more, sweetheart,” Chloe coaxed, holding the spoon to Oliver’s chapped lips. 

Oliver turned away. “I’m tired.” 

“I know, baby.” 

The McNeal child had passed away this morning. Fear of more deaths hung over the town like a dark cloud. 

“Where’s Beca?” Oliver murmured. 

“She went to get some help,” Chloe whispered, stroking his hair back and forth. “She’s counting on her deputy to hold fast until she’s back. Can you do that?” 

Oliver gave a faint nod. “I’m strong.” 

Chloe swallowed the sob clogging her throat and blinked back the tears pooling in her eyes. “Yes, you are. The strongest person I know.” 

Aubrey stopped by that evening to bring Chloe some food, as she had done for the past two days. As the school was still closed until further notice, she had taken over managing the store while Chloe remained at Oliver’s bedside. 

“Have you gotten any sleep?” 

Chloe shrugged, cupping her mug of honey water. It was warm enough today to sit out on the porch with a blanket draped over her lap. “Here and there.” 

She hadn’t eaten much either, just enough to keep going. 

“The sheriff should be back tomorrow, right?” 

“If nothing’s happened, yes.” A bad feeling had settled deep in Chloe’s gut ever since Beca had left. “I hate the waiting.” 

Aubrey nodded. “She’s the careful type. I wouldn’t be too worried.”  

“I know,” Chloe whispered, then shrugged again. “It feels odd that she’s not around. I feel… off balance.” 

It was the first time she’d ever made any allusion to feelings that went beyond friendship. Outloud, at least. 

“I feel the same way when Jesse is gone for a few days.” 

Chloe glanced up, eyes widening. “That’s not–” 

“Yes, it is,” Aubrey murmured. “You love her the way I love my husband.” 

There was no judgement in Aubrey’s voice, simply fact. 

“I noticed months ago.” 

“Months?” 

Aubrey nodded. “Honestly, I thought you knew.” 

Chloe remained silent, unsure of how to respond. 

“For what it’s worth, she looks at you the same way.” 

Chloe swallowed as she let herself entertain that thought. She shook her head. “What would people say?” 

“People don’t have to know.” 

Chloe’s heart leapt when she heard hoofbeats growing near. She sprang to her feet and looked out into the near-darkness. For a moment, she couldn’t see anything. Then, a shadow appeared. A rider emerged in the night, followed by five more. 

Chloe ran down the stairs just as Beca slowed to a stop and dismounted, just in time to wrap her arms around Chloe as she collided into her. 

“You’re back,” Chloe whispered as she hugged her tight. 

“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” Beca pulled back after a few seconds, searching Chloe’s eyes. “Oliver?” 

“He’s hanging on.” 

“Good. I was terrified I would be too late.” She glanced over her shoulder, nodding towards the other riders. “I’ve brought back reinforcements.” 

Chloe stepped closer, offering them all a smile. “Thank you for coming. Truly.” 

Some ranchers had stepped out of the saloon upon hearing the horses, looking on suspiciously as they took in the unfamiliar arrivals. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

Beca stepped forward so they could see her, and most importantly the badge pinned to her chest. “These people are our guests. They’re here to help the children.” 

Mr. Cooper, whose daughter had fallen sick, scoffed. “I ain’t letting a savage lay a hand on my daughter.” 

Beca pursed her lips, clearly biting on her tongue not to say what she meant to say. “That is your choice, Mr. Cooper. Perhaps other folks in town will feel differently.” 

Mr. Cooper muttered something inaudible and spat on the ground before shuffling back inside the building. Beca ignored it, turning and addressing her friends in a language Chloe did not understand. 

“Where will they stay?” Chloe asked, knowing the boarding house didn’t have enough room. 

“They’ll put up their tipis just on the edge of town.” Beca glanced back to the saloon. “And given the warm welcome, I think I’ll have to post a few men to guard the camp.” She nodded towards the house. “Let’s check on Oliver first?” 

The healer, a woman in her sixties with silver hair, followed them inside of the house and up the stairs. Oliver was asleep, but stirred upon their arrival. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Chloe said as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Look who’s back.” 

Beca grinned, stepping closer and tipping her hat. “Deputy Beale.” 

Oliver gave a weak smile. “You’re back.” 

“Of course I am,” Beca told him, sitting on his other side. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

Oliver shook his head immediately. “I knew you’d be back.” 

“This is Awinita. She is a very old friend of mine, and she’s here to help you.” 

Awinita approached. “May I?” She asked Chloe, who nodded. The healer laid her hand on Oliver’s forehead, then spoke to Beca in that same language. 

“She says he should go into the sweat lodge as soon as possible.” 

“The… the sweat lodge?” 

“It’s like a tipi structure, covered in blankets and hides. Stones are heated in a fire outside, then brought into the tipi, where the healer pours water over them to create steam. That steam is supposed to cleanse the body.” 

“That– that will help bring the fever down?” 

Beca glanced from Chloe to Awinita, then back. “She thinks it might.” 

Might. Chloe took a deep, steadying breath as she looked back at her son. His glassy eyes, flushed skin and labored breathing. She knew she didn’t have any other option than to try. 

“Will you stay with him the whole time?” She asked Awinita. 

“She will. But only her. We can’t be in there, too.” 

“How long?” 

“Twelve hours.” 

The small, dome-shaped structure had been raised on the edge of town. Awinita’s companions moved with practiced efficiency, carrying the quiet confidence of people who had done this many times before. 

Townspeople watched on from a distance, whispering among themselves. Chloe stood by Beca, Oliver bundled up in her arms. He was shivering despite the thick quilt wrapped around his body. 

“She says it’s time,” Beca told her when the healer approached. 

“Okay.” Chloe clenched her jaw in order to keep it together and hugged Oliver close. She couldn’t ignore the thought that he might die without her and that shook her to her core. “I love you so much, my sweet boy.” 

Oliver was too weak to say anything back. Chloe carefully handed him to the older woman, who took him and headed towards the lodge. 

Every instinct Chloe possessed screamed at her to follow, to never leave him out of her sight. Yet, she remained exactly where she was, her vision blurring with tears as Awinita disappeared inside. 

“Come on,” Beca said, touching Chloe’s arm. “You need to rest. There is nothing else we can do now.” 

Chloe wanted to protest, she really did. But she could feel the exhaustion she had fought so hard against finally seep into her bones. 

“I’ll fix you some dinner first.” 

“Chloe—”

“Please?” Chloe said. “I need— I need to keep myself occupied.” 

“Alright. I should wash up first though, or you’ll regret your offer. Haven’t seen soap in four days.” 

After a quiet dinner where Beca wolfed down almost an entire pie, Chloe headed upstairs, surprised to see Beca following.

“Are you following to make sure I get some rest?” She asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Yes. And to make sure you don’t faint in the stairs, too.” Beca lingered by the doorway of Chloe’s bedroom. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.”

“Stay?” The question, or rather demand, slipped out before Chloe could stop it. “At least until I fall asleep? I don’t… I don’t want to be on my own.” 

Beca nodded, eyes soft and warm. “I reckon my guys can handle things for a bit.” 

“Thank you.” She laid down on her side, watching as Beca took a seat on the chair by her bedside. “Lie with me?” 

Chloe felt her cheeks redden over her request. Beca’s own face pinked up. “Right, sure. I didn’t want to… assume.” 

She stood and removed her boots, then her gun belt, laying it over the back of the chair in the corner. 

Beca then moved to the opposite side of the bed and settled atop the covers.

Chloe felt every emotion hit her at once: the fear of losing Oliver, the relief over Beca coming back safe and sound, the exhaustion triggered by both. The tears she had been fighting for the past few days finally won. 

Chloe only realized she was crying when Beca reached up to wipe her cheek with the pad of her thumb. 

“Hey,” Beca whispered and shuffled close, close enough to tug Chloe against her shoulder. 

Ignoring what was deemed proper, Chloe didn’t resist. For the first time in days, she let herself lean on someone. Beca’s arm wrapped around her, steady and safe and exactly what Chloe needed right at that instant. 

Sobs escaped her body before she could leash them in, filling the silence hanging over the room. Beca didn’t say anything, and for that Chloe felt grateful. There was no he’ll be okay, or God works in mysterious ways. 

Beca settled for brushing a hand through Chloe’s hair back and forth. 

Eventually, Chloe managed to quiet down the storm inside of her, but she didn’t pull away, only leaning against Beca’s touch when she felt her lips brush a kiss to her forehead. 

When Beca started singing a soft tune, Chloe felt her lids start to droop. 

For the first time in days, she finally gave in and fell asleep. 

*

When she woke up that morning, the sun was already high in the sky. 

It took Chloe a moment to remember what had transpired over the last few days. When she did, she stood up so fast she had to fight a bout of dizziness rushing to her head before heading down the stairs. 

Her heart hammered in her ears as she flew through the door, coming to a screeching halt when she spotted Beca rounding the corner of the store, her son wrapped up in her arms. 

“Is he–” 

“He’s alive,” Beca told her before she could finish her sentence. Chloe choked on a sob and made the rest of the distance to Beca, gathering Oliver into her own arms. “His fever came down. Awinita says he isn’t out of the woods yet, but she has hope.” 

Tears slipped down Chloe’s cheeks as she hugged her semi-conscious son. “Oh, sweetheart.” 

“Mama.” 

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” 

Awinita caught up with them, speaking to Beca, who translated. “He needs fluids as soon as possible. I'll get water from the well while you take him to his bedroom.” 

Chloe nodded and did as instructed, heading back upstairs to lie Oliver down on his bed. He felt cooler to the touch and his eyes seemed more alert. 

“Beca came back.” 

“She did,” Chloe said as she sat down beside him, stifling a chuckle over the fact that it was the first thing he thought about. She took it as a good sign. “She’s always protecting us, isn’t she?” 

Oliver nodded. “And she shoots faster than her own shadow.” 

Chloe released a watery laugh. “I have yet to see proof of that.” 

“She did in my dream,” Oliver murmured. “Mama, I’m thirsty.” 

“The nice lady is making you something that should make you feel better,” Chloe explained, brushing his hair back from his forehead. 

The healer stepped inside ten minutes later with a steaming cup of auburn liquid. 

“Willow bark and elderberry to alleviate pains and reduce the fever,” Beca translated as Chloe brought the cup to Oliver’s lips. “She said she needs to purify the room with burning sage after.” 

Chloe nodded, glancing at Beca. “How do you say thank you, in your language?” 

“Wado.” 

Chloe looked at Awinita and smiled. “Wado.” 

“The O’Brians want her to help,” Beca said next. “Once she’s done here, I’ll take her to their farm.” 

“Okay.” 

Oliver fell back asleep shortly after. Not the frightening fever-dream sleep that had haunted Chloe for the past week, but the peaceful kind that finally allowed her to breathe properly. 

Chloe sat by his side, only leaving to relieve herself in the outhouse behind the house. 

The sun was sitting low on the horizon by the time Beca came back. Chloe heard her distinctive footsteps up the stairs before she appeared around the corner, looking exhausted. 

She carried a steaming bowl and handed it to Chloe. “You made this?” 

“You don’t have to sound so suspicious, you know,” Beca teased gently. “Aubrey left it in the kitchen earlier, with a note. Figured you hadn’t fed yourself.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I only carried it up the stairs,” Beca said as she grabbed the extra chair and set it next to Chloe’s. “How is he?” 

“Better. No more fever.” 

“That’s great news,” Beca replied, her own relief evident in her expression. “Three families agreed to let Awinita help.” 

“I knew some of them would come around.” Chloe stirred the stew, then brought a spoonful to her mouth. She hummed in delight. “Aubrey is such a good cook.” 

“I knew I should have taken the credit,” Beca muttered with a little eyeroll. 

Chloe laughed. “I wouldn’t have believed you.” 

Beca’s jaw dropped. “That’s low, Mrs. Beale. Very low.” Her expression softened a beat later. “But hearing you laugh is worth the insult.” 

Chloe met Beca’s eyes almost bashfully, the top of her cheeks warming. When Beca’s gaze drifted down to her lips, she felt her heart pick up. 

But then Beca cleared her throat and glanced away. “I should go check on Takoda. I really pushed him over the journey, wanna make sure he’s alright.” 

Chloe nodded, pushing away whatever it was she was feeling. Disappointment over Beca not kissing her? Shame over entertaining that thought while Oliver wasn’t out of the woods yet? She wasn’t sure. “There should be some carrots left in the store. Give them to him as a thank you from me and Ollie.” 

“I will.” Beca stood and grabbed her hat, securing it over her head. “See you in a bit. I’ll watch over Ollie for a few hours so you can rest.” 

“What about your rest?” 

“I’ve been through worse,” Beca told with a wink, then disappeared. 

Chloe had dozed off in her chair by the time Beca got back. She came to with a jolt upon hearing her footsteps. 

“Sorry,” Beca whispered sheepishly. 

Chloe rubbed a hand over her face. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to doze off.” 

Beca stepped closer to Oliver’s bed, reaching out to rest the back of her hand over Oliver’s forehead. “No fever.” 

Chloe allowed herself to smile. “He’s been sleeping peacefully.” 

“I’ll take over, you should go get some real sleep.” 

Chloe knew better than to argue. “Wake me up in a couple of hours so we can switch?” 

“You got it.” 

Chloe wasn’t that surprised when she woke up to the sun rising, having suspected Beca might let her sleep. 

Soft voices drifting from across the hall had her crawl out of bed quietly. She wrapped a robe around herself and ventured outside of her bedroom, tiptoeing towards Oliver’s ajar door. 

“Then what happened?” 

“He ran out of the bank with bags of money.” 

Chloe heard a soft gasp. “Lots of money?” 

“Mhm, enough to buy a house at least.” 

“What’d you do?” 

“I jumped up on my horse and started to chase him down Main Street.” 

“Did he shoot at you?” 

“A few times, but he missed.” 

“Then what happened?” 

“I didn’t want to shoot at him and risk killing him. Didn’t wanna shoot the horse either. So I took my rope…” 

“You roped him like a cow??” 

Chloe’s smile continued to grow as she listened; Oliver was clearly feeling better. 

Beca chuckled. “Will you let me finish the story?” 

“Sorry.” 

“But yes. I roped him like a cow and pulled, he fell from his horse and hit the ground.” 

“Then you cuffed him?” 

“I wasn’t a sheriff or deputy back then, so no. That’s when I was hired as a deputy, though. The town’s sheriff saw everything.” 

“Woah.” 

Chloe chose that moment to make herself known, appearing in the doorway. “Someone sounds a lot better,” she said to Oliver, who grinned. He still looked a little pale, but it was nothing like the past few days. “How are you feeling baby?” 

“Okay. My muscles feel numb,” Oliver replied. “I can’t lift my arms without them hurting.” 

“That’s probably the aftermath of the fever making you sore,” Chloe said as she sat down on the edge of the bed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Her eyes found Beca’s as she straightened. “What happened to waking me up?” 

Beca shrugged. “I felt alright. Dozed for a few hours too, since Ollie was fine. I gave him some of that willow bark concoction when he woke up.” 

“It was not very good,” Oliver mumbled, pulling a laugh from both adults. 

Beca pushed to her feet and grabbed her hat. “I should go make rounds with Awinita, see how those other kids are doing.” 

Chloe nodded. “I’ll pack you some food to give to those families.” 

The fever ended up taking two children, out of the sixteen sick. Awinita helped eight of them, some of the worst cases pulling through thanks to her care. 

“I’m forever in your debt,” Chloe told the older woman as she and her party prepared to leave. She had gifted them food and supplies, though she knew it was little compared to what Awinita had done for their town. She took both of Awinita’s hands, squeezing. “Wado, Awinita.” 

Awinita bowed her head, squeezing Chloe’s hands back. Chloe and the other parents she’d helped stood back and watched the Indians ride out. 

“‘Bout time those savages left,” Mr. Russell muttered. 

“Oh, would you give it a rest?” Mrs. Perry told him. “Some kids wouldn’t have gotten better without her help.” 

“Maybe they would of. My son did.” 

“Enough,” Beca said sternly, throwing Mr. Russell a warning glare. “It’s done. We should feel grateful that the number of losses isn’t higher.” 

Most folks agreed with their sheriff, some reluctant ones showing their irritation by spitting on the ground and walking away. 

As the crowd dispersed to go back to their respective homes, Chloe fell into step with Beca. 

“I believe Mrs. Perry gave you a compliment,” Chloe pointed out, bumping her shoulder with Beca’s. 

“I know, I think I might need to be pinched,” Beca admitted, chuckling. 

Life thankfully got back to its normal rhythm after the fever episode. The first snowfall came just a week before Christmas, which happened to be Chloe’s busiest time of the year as the people in town prepared for the festivities. 

For once, she was the one getting home late that night. 

“Busy day?” Beca asked, coming down the stairs just as Chloe walked in from the store part of the building. 

“Yes,” Chloe said with a small sigh. “Where’s Ollie?” 

“He was tired from his snowball fight with his friends, so I tucked him in,” Beca told her, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “I heated up last night’s leftovers, saved you a serving.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Take a seat, you’ve been on your feet all day,” Beca said, heading to the stove and lifting the lid to the pot to scoop its contents out and into a plate. 

Chloe did so, smiling in thanks as Beca set the plate down in front of her and grabbed the bottle of port from the shelf, along with two glasses. 

“Do you celebrate Christmas?” Chloe found herself asking after a couple of bites. 

“No, not really. My parents were Christian so I’m assuming we did when I was a kid, but I have no memories of it,” Beca explained. “The Cherokees didn’t, for obvious reasons. And after I left the tribe, I didn’t stay in the same place long enough to… make acquaintances, like I have here.” 

“Well, if you are inclined, Ollie and I would love to have you celebrate with us.” 

One of those genuine-looking smiles spread across Beca’s features. Chloe liked to think she only reserved those for her and Ollie, then instantly berated herself for letting her mind go there. 

“Yeah, I’d really enjoy that.” She took a sip from a drink. “So what is the tradition?” 

“Well, we have a nice meal on Christmas Eve, then exchange gifts. On Christmas morning we go to mass, but you don’t have to go.” 

Beca nodded. “Unless you’d like me to?” 

“I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable with,” Chloe told her, meaning every word. 

“Alright, then dinner and gifts sound really nice.” 

Much to Oliver’s disappointment, the snow had melted by the time Christmas Eve came around. 

The morning of, Beca called them from outside the store. Oliver rushed to the door and opened it, gasping at the sight of Beca dragging a Christmas tree behind her horse. 

“Do you have any decorations for this fella?” She asked when Chloe made it outside. 

“Is that where you disappeared to before breakfast?” Chloe asked back, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“T’was a long ride to the forest,” Beca told her with a grin. “Is there room for it inside?” 

Oliver was so excited that Chloe knew there was only one acceptable answer. “I’ll make some room.” 

“I need to head back out and catch our dinner,” Beca added. “I spotted some turkeys while out in the woods.” 

Chloe shook her head in wonder. She was planning to get chicken thighs at the meat market, but the thought of a roast turkey made her mouth water. “You better be back by one so I have time to cook it.” 

Beca chuckled and tipped her hat. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Hours later, the three of them sat around the table, the newly decorated tree tucked in the corner. Chloe had made yams and green beans to accompany the roast turkey as well as a brown sugar and cinnamon apple pie for dessert. 

“Want to say the prayer, sweetheart?” Chloe asked her son once she had plated their meal. 

Oliver nodded eagerly and took his mother’s hand, then Beca’s. Chloe felt warmth spread throughout her chest when Beca reached across the table to take hers.

“Heavenly Father, thank You for the food and thank You for Mama and thank You for Sheriff Beca because she makes Mama smile a lot. Amen.” 

Chloe met Beca’s eyes as she opened hers, holding it for a beat too long. 

“Can we eat now?” Oliver piped up, breaking the moment. 

Chloe laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “Yes, let’s eat.” 

In between dinner and dessert, Oliver insisted they opened the presents. Chloe would have said no on any other occasion, but she knew he was mostly looking forward to giving Beca the one he’d made for her. 

“Mama and I made it,” Oliver said as he handed Beca the gift. 

Beca glanced at Chloe, then back towards Oliver as she carefully took the present. “Thank you, buddy.” She unfolded the wrapping paper, revealing a handkerchief embroidered with the words Sheriff Beca. Small flowers were tucked in each corner. 

“Mama helped me with the writing and she did the flowers.” 

Beca visibly swallowed as she ran her thumb over one of the flowers. “Thank you, Ollie. I love it and I’ll always keep it in my pocket.” 

Oliver beamed, leaning closer to wrap his short arms around Beca. “I wanted to get you a gun but Mama said no. Said I was too young to go into the store.” 

“And she’s right,” Beca said, her gaze meeting Chloe’s. “I don’t need a gun, though. A handkerchief however is something I was definitely lacking in the Oklahoma heat, so it’s perfect.” 

As Oliver pulled back, Beca reached for a small square box and gave it to him. “This is yours.” 

Oliver tore through the package at lighting speed and opened the box. A soft gasp left his lips as he took its contents out. 

“What is it, honey?” 

Oliver turned the item around for Chloe to see; a star badge with the words Deputy Beale engraved in the metal. 

Chloe grinned. “That’s lovely, baby. What do you say?” 

“Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome, Deputy,” Beca said. She took the badge and pinned it to his shirt. “There.” 

Chloe briefly wondered if she had ever witnessed Oliver feeling so proud. Her attention shifted to Beca when she handed her a wrapped present. “Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” 

Beca’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling in silent disagreement. “Just open it, Chlo.” 

Chloe carefully opened the wrapping paper, finding a tiny pouch made of hide hanging from a leather breaded cord. Delicate rows of blue and white seed beads edged the flap. Catching Chloe’s confusion, Beca started explaining. 

“It’s a medicine pouch. Most tribes carry them somewhere on their bodies, for protection. I’ve put different medicinal herbs in it and you can add items that are dear to you, too.” 

Chloe felt tears sting her eyes as she hugged the gift to her chest. “Thank you. I love that.” 

“You’re welcome,” Beca murmured, holding her gaze for a moment. 

Chloe pulled it over her head so the pouch rested onto her chest; she knew she would cherish it forever. 

*

The first two weeks of the year were mostly spent resupplying the store after the Christmas chaos, which meant Chloe spent most of her days stacking up tin cans and bottles. 

“Some wind out there today,” Mr. Dawson said as he stepped inside the store. 

Chloe had noticed, too. Along with the air growing strangely warm despite the snow that still lingered in shaded places. 

“Yes. I hope it won’t turn into a tornado.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it did. You better board those windows up if the wind gets any worse.” 

Chloe nodded. “I will.” 

“I’ll get some tobacco please,” he told Chloe as he approached the counter. Chloe turned around to grab it from the shelf behind her. “Sheriff’s doing well. Arrested the bank thief yesterday.” 

“Yeah, we’re lucky to have her,” Chloe said, handing him a tin of chewing tobacco. 

“I feel sorry I doubted her,” Mr. Dawson admitted as he fished out a bill while Chloe punched the price into her register. “She really saved the day when she caught my cattle last year.” 

“And she appreciated your gratitude.” 

The bell above the door jingled. Chloe glanced over Mr. Dawson’s shoulder to find Beca stepping inside. 

“Mr. Dawson,” Beca greeted with a tip of her hat before focusing on Chloe. “Wind’s picking up. You should put the boards up and head to the basement with Ollie. I need to go door-to-door to warn everyone.” 

“I’ll come with,” Mr. Dawson said. 

“I’d rather you help Chloe with the boards, if that’s not too much trouble?” Beca asked. “Bill is already going down the street to get the word ‘round.” 

“Yes ma’am, consider it done.” 

The wind picked up with force over the following hour, until an eerie calm settled over the town. Chloe knew it wasn’t a good sign. She ushered Oliver down to the basement just as Beca came back. 

“It’s on the other side of the plain,” she told Chloe, out of breath. “It might miss us.” 

Chloe took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, get down here.” 

“What if–” 

Chloe shook her head, giving Beca a look that told her she better not argue. She grabbed the lapels of Beca’s coat for good measure. “You’re staying here. There’s nothing you can do out there now and I’m not losing you because you’re too stubborn to save yourself.” 

Beca fell silent, then nodded. She laid a hand over one of Chloe’s and gave it a squeeze. “Okay.” 

They headed down the stairs and huddled together on the ground. 

“Have you seen a tornado before, Beca?” Oliver asked while they waited, drawing his knees to his chest. 

“A lot of times. I used to live in Texas, where they were a regular occurrence,” Beca told him. “Once I was on horseback and had to race it to a ditch so I could take cover.” 

Oliver’s eyes grew wider. “But what about your horse??” 

Beca smiled. “I turned him loose. Horses know where to go to stay safe. All animals do, actually. They’re very smart.” 

“Did you find him after?” 

Beca hummed, nodding. “He was half a mile away, grazing without a care in the world.” 

“What if you hadn’t found a ditch??” 

“Well, my last resort would have been to lie my horse down and take cover behind him.” 

“You can get him to lie down?” 

“Of course. He knows a lot of tricks. I’ll show you next time we go to the river.” 

That made Oliver ask more questions, for which Chloe was grateful. She didn’t want him to get scared about the tornado. 

Beca’s stories weren’t enough when a deafening roar seemed to surround them minutes later, like a freight train charging through town. Oliver whined in fright, Chloe pulling him close to hug him. Beca scooted closer to wrap her arms around them both as the house violently rattled, dust raining through the cracks in the floorboard above them. 

The walls groaned and the sound of glass shattering echoed somewhere in the house. What felt like hours must have only been a minute as the tornado tore through town at a quick pace. The roar eventually faded, growing more distant as the twister rolled away. 

Heavy silence settled over them, save for an echo of labored breathing. 

“Is it over?” Oliver whispered. 

Beca pulled away slowly, listening intently. “Yeah, I think so.” 

When they climbed back upstairs, the house felt strangely unfamiliar. One kitchen window had shattered, a chair lay overturned.

The front door hung crooked on its hinges.

Outside, Main Street had disappeared beneath debris: pieces of roofs, broken wagons and splintered fences.

The church steeple leaned at an alarming angle. People were already emerging from cellars, calling names and checking on neighbors.

“I’ll check the house out before going out to help,” Beca told Chloe, already turning towards the stairs. 

The damage became obvious before they reached the landing: daylight shone through a jagged hole where part of the roof had once been, snowflakes drifting lazily into the hallway.

One entire corner of Beca’s bedroom was simply… gone.

The outer wall had been ripped away, exposing the room to the gray winter sky. 

Beca’s hands perched on her hips. “Well…” 

Chloe laughed so she wouldn’t start crying instead. “I don’t think you’re sleeping in there tonight.” 

Beca released a tired, disbelieving laugh too. “I think you might be right.” 

While Beca went outside to help out, Chloe spent the next hour cleaning up her home. Much to her relief, the store and her stock hadn’t been damaged. 

“Is everyone okay?” Chloe asked when Beca got back just as night fell on the town. 

“Yeah. That’s a relief. Lots of material damage though, we’ll start working on that as early as tomorrow.” 

Chloe nodded; she had no doubt the folks’ sense of community would do its wonders as it had during past hardships over the years.

“Is it alright if I sleep on your bedroom floor tonight?” Beca asked as she removed her hat. 

“You’re not sleeping on the floor. We can share my bed,” Chloe told her. “Unless you want to share with Oliver but you might wake up with a foot in your ribs.” 

Beca chuckled. “That doesn’t sound ideal.” She cleared her throat and awkwardly swayed on her feet. “You sure? I could also rent a room at the boarding house.” 

Chloe shook her head, casting Beca another one of those looks that Beca now knew not to argue with. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Alright ma’am.” 

“I’ll go wash up.” 

Chloe had just slipped beneath her bed covers by the time Beca reached her bedroom, carrying in the oil lamp from downstairs. 

“What is it?” Chloe asked when she lingered in the doorway, rubbing her neck. 

“I don’t want to impose.” 

“You rode to the other side of the territory to save my son,” Chloe reminded her. “I think you can borrow half my bed.” 

Beca blew out a sigh of resignation and stepped further inside. She wore a henley shirt and white cotton shorts, her usual nighttime attire. 

“I found a notebook in your room while I was cleaning up,” Chloe said once Beca had settled down next to her. “It was getting wet from the snow so I set it on my dresser. I hope what’s inside hasn’t been damaged.” 

Beca glanced towards the dresser. “Oh, those are just song scribbles.” 

Chloe raised an eyebrow, rolling onto her side to face Beca. “You write songs?” 

“Yeah. Mostly sad ones,” Beca said with a little laugh. “But it’s been harder lately. I think… I’m too happy to write sad songs.” 

Chloe felt her heart swell; was she one of the reasons for Beca's happiness like Beca was for her own? 

“I’m glad you feel happy here,” Chloe murmured. “Maybe you could write happy songs?” 

Beca hummed softly. “Yeah, I should give it a try.” 

“You have a really nice voice, I think folks would enjoy hearing you sing.” 

“I’m too self-conscious to sing in front of people,” Beca admitted. 

“You sang for me while Oliver was sick.” 

“You’re different,” Beca said, shrugging a little. “You’re my friend and…” 

“And?” 

Beca shook her head. “Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “I should get some sleep, Mr. Dawson said we’d start repairs before the sun’s up.” 

Chloe felt disappointment roll through her stomach when Beca shrugged off what she was about to say. “Oh, right. Okay. I think Oliver might want to come along to help at some point during the day.” 

A gentle smile shone through in the low light. “I wouldn’t expect any less from my best deputy.” 

“Goodnight, Beca.” 

“Night, Chlo.” 

Chloe insisted on her house being the last to be repaired; she had several bedrooms, while some folks in town desperately needed a roof above theirs. She knew however that sharing a bed with Beca was counter-productive when it came to fighting with her feelings for her; she sometimes woke up with Beca’s arm draped over her middle, or cuddling against Beca’s side. 

Neither mentioned it when they woke up or later during the day if one had to get up before the other. They fell into a routine that felt dangerously domestic, and Chloe didn’t know how to untangle herself from the knot of feelings taking more and more room in her chest. 

In March, a new rancher arrived in town. By noon the next day, Chloe had heard his name about a dozen times. 

"He bought the old Henderson place."

"They say he came up from Texas."

"My sister says he's unmarried."

"My cousin says he owns five hundred head of cattle."

Chloe stifled a laugh as she listened to the group of three women currently crowding her counter. 

“Have you seen him?” 

Chloe finished wrapping a sack of sugar, shaking her head in amusement. “I have not. He only arrived last night, didn’t he?” 

The bell above the door rang and conversation instantly died down. 

In walked a tall, broad-shouldered man. He removed his hat and greeted Chloe and her customers with a handsome smile. “Ladies.” 

The three women swooned, while Chloe stifled an eyeroll. 

The newcomer approached the counter, his focus staying on Chloe. “You must be Mrs. Beale.” 

“I am.” 

He offered his hand. “Tom Carter.” His handshake was warm and confident. “I hear you’re the best shopkeeper within fifty miles.” 

Chloe smiled politely. “I’m afraid someone has exaggerated.” 

That didn’t seem to deter him. “I doubt it. I’ve been told that if I need anything, this is the place to come.” 

“I’ll try not to disappoint.” 

Tom gave her a lopsided smile, along with a wink. “I don’t think that’s possible.” 

Chloe ignored the enamored sigh Mrs. Taylor released. “Can I get you anything today?” 

For the next ten minutes Tom purchased enough supplies to stock a ranch: Coffee, flour, beans, a new lantern, rope, a new pair of gloves, among other items. He paid it all in cash, fishing a few bills out of the thick wad he took out of his pocket. 

Conversation sparked again the moment the door shut behind him. 

"Oh my."

"I told you."

"He has beautiful manners."

"And those eyes..."

Mrs. Jenkins fanned herself with her hand. “I wish I wasn’t married right about now.” 

“And that smile he gave you…” Mrs. Perry told Chloe. 

Chloe paused, stilling her movements. “What smile?” 

“He’s smitten.” 

“He was simply a polite customer buying supplies.” 

The uncertain hum from Mrs. Perry bode ill. “If that’s what we’re calling him.” 

Chloe wasn’t expecting Beca to bring him up later that day. She wasn’t really one for gossip, which Chloe appreciated. 

“So I hear you’ve met the new rancher,” Beca said as she cut up the bread in slices. 

Oliver had already gone to bed as it was a school night. 

“Mrs. Perry?” 

“Mrs. Jenkins.” 

“Ah.” Chloe sat down across from Beca. “He came to the store to get supplies.” 

Beca only hummed in response. 

“Is there something wrong?” 

“Nothing, no.” 

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Beca…” 

“Alright, fine.” Beca sighed. “I can’t stand the fellow.” 

“You know him?” 

Beca nodded as she leaned back in her chair. “We crossed paths a few years ago.” 

“What happened?” 

“He flirted with every woman in the county. Didn’t matter if they were married or not.” 

“Oh.” 

Beca fell silent for a little while, cutting the bread with more force than needed. “Mrs. Jenkins said he seemed smitten by you,” she said, avoiding Chloe’s eyes as she set a slice of bread onto the side of her plate. “Are you um– interested in him?” 

Chloe blinked. “I um, I’ve only met him today,” she replied in all honesty. “So I can’t really answer that.” 

“Right, right.” Beca cleared her throat and shifted in her chair. “For what it’s worth, I think you deserve better than him. Not my opinion matters much but–” 

“It does,” Chloe interrupted. “I trust your opinion more than anyone else’s. And for what it’s worth, I thought he was a little bit too arrogant for my taste.” 

Beca finally looked up, her movements stilling. “You did?” 

“Yeah. Not really my type.” 

“Oh.” 

It felt as though the tension suddenly flooded from Beca’s shoulders. That’s when Chloe finally put two and two together: she was jealous. Aubrey was right, there was something there, too. 

Something sparked in her chest, but Chloe couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling. 

Hope, perhaps. 

*

By the time May arrived, the prairie rolled in waves of green beneath an endless blue sky.

Wildflowers painted the fields in every direction—Indian paintbrush, bluebonnets, evening primrose, and little yellow blooms Chloe had never learned the names of.

The mornings smelled of damp earth and fresh grass. 

Oliver had made up for every day he'd spent sick by deciding he now needed to be outside from dawn until dusk.

Chloe couldn't complain; every grass stain on his trousers felt like a small miracle.

The bell jingled above the door. 

“Morning, Sheriff,” Chloe greeted without looking up from her books. 

“How’d you know it was me?” 

Chloe chuckled. “Your spurs make a distinctive sound.” 

When she finally glanced up, Beca was leaning against the counter, hat pushed back, smiling in that quiet way that seemed reserved only for Chloe.

The sight still made her heart stumble, and she suspected it always would.

No, her feelings hadn’t gone anywhere. 

“Did you need something?” 

Beca fished into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I’ve got a list.” 

“That sounds like serious business,” Chloe teased as she shut her books. “I’m listening.” 

“Bread, salt pork, cheese, apples, a tin of dried peaches, coffee, biscuits and a jar of blackberry preserves.” 

“Am I not feeding you enough?” Chloe joked in surprise. 

Beca laughed, then rubbed the back of her neck. Chloe had noticed she did that whenever she felt nervous about something. “I’d like to take you somewhere for the evening. I thought we could have supper there, and perhaps sleep under the stars if you’re comfortable with that.” 

Chloe felt her heart stutter again. “Oliver will love that.” 

“I um, I asked Aubrey if he could spend the night at her house actually,” Beca continued. Blush moved over her cheeks. “I figured you could use a night off from any responsibilities. But we can take him if you want to, you know I love the little dude.” 

“No,” Chloe found herself saying, the word bursting out before her brain had even caught up on what this whole idea was implying. “I think– I think just the two of us would be nice.” 

Their eyes remained locked for a few beats. 

“Alright, then,” Beca said, her smile sheepish and a little bit awkward. “I’ll come back at five to pack the supplies and we can ride out.” 

Chloe felt her own cheeks pinken at the thought of being alone with Beca in the wilderness. “Okay.” 

A few hours later, she and Beca were riding out of town and heading west. Chloe had almost forgotten how impossibly wide the world felt outside of Duncan. 

Watching the prairie roll endlessly toward the horizon made something inside her loosen. She took a deep breath, letting the crisp evening air fill her lungs. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Beca glanced her way, a soft smile gracing her features. “I thought you might like it.” 

“I really do.” 

They rode mostly in comfortable silence, talking here and there or pointing out hawks circling overhead. 

The place Beca had chosen was a beautiful creek, surrounded by wildflowers. The water ran clear over smooth stones, catching the last golden light of the sun.

They dismounted and set up camp while there was still light. Beca built a fire and they sat down on the spread out blankets to enjoy dinner. 

Chloe couldn’t stop looking at the sky and its gorgeous hues of pink and orange. “Feels good to leave town for a bit.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured as she cut some salt pork. “I feel at home in the wilderness.” 

Chloe smiled softly. “It shows.” 

Following a hearty dinner, Chloe laid back against the blankets and gazed at the stars starting to pop throughout the darkening sky. 

“My grandmother used to say each star had a story,” she said as Beca laid down beside her, their shoulders brushing together. 

“Yeah? What kind of stories?”

“I actually can’t remember,” Chloe admitted with a huff of laughter. “They were all made up, obviously.” 

Beca pointed east, to a bright star surrounded by small ones. “I think this is yours. Shines brighter than everybody else.” 

Chloe felt her heart swell against her ribs, letting those words wash over. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered as she turned her head to look at Beca properly. “For remembering that I existed outside of the store.” 

“You spend so much time taking care of everyone else,” Beca said, then gave a small shrug. “I wanted someone to take care of you, for once.” 

Their sudden proximity made it difficult for Chloe to string words together. “You don’t have to.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured back. “I want to.” 

Her heart missed a beat when Beca reached up to stroke her cheek. “Chloe?” 

Chloe swallowed, trying but failing to ignore that magnetic pull. 

“May I kiss you?” 

Licking her lips instinctively, Chloe gave a faint nod, meeting Beca in the middle. Their mouths met softly, tentatively. Chloe felt something spark in the pit of her belly as she melted into the liplock, her own hand coming to rest on Beca’s hip, tugging her closer. 

Beca hummed as her body shifted to lie flush against Chloe’s. After a moment, they naturally parted, foreheads resting against one another’s. 

“I…” Beca started, then took a beat. “I’ve been afraid you might not feel the same way.” 

“I do,” Chloe admitted, tears pricking behind her eyes. It felt as though her heart was swelling against her ribs, taking all the room in her chest. “I was afraid of the same thing.” 

“I’ve been trying not to fall in love with you since the day you pointed a rifle at two outlaws.” 

A watery giggle escaped Chloe’s throat. “Was that what did it?” 

“It was very attractive,” Beca said. “And I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen from the moment I saw you.” 

Chloe felt her breathing hitch over the compliment. She wasn’t sure how to reply, so she closed the distance to pull Beca into another kiss. 

When they parted after a couple of blissful minutes, Beca had a sort of dazed smile Chloe had never witnessed before. 

“What is it?” 

Beca chuckled. “I’ve just discovered a new favorite thing to do, and I want to do it all day and all night long.” 

Chloe bit back a smirk. “Well, I don’t see anything stopping us…” 

A hearty giggle burst past Chloe’s lips when Beca rolled onto her back and tugged her on top of her.

*

“Is it wrong that I don’t want to go back home just yet?” Chloe found herself asking the next morning as Beca made them coffee over the fire. 

The night before had been nothing short of magical. Chloe had never felt so in unison with her husband the way she did with Beca. She had expected guilt to flood her over that realization, but it never came. 

“Because of the store?” Beca asked, handing her one of the steaming cups. 

“Because of the people,” Chloe said as she cupped it with both hands, enjoying the heat seeping through her palms. “We’ll have to be careful.” 

She couldn’t fathom what it would be like if word got out she and Beca were together. She would most certainly lose a huge part of her business and Beca wouldn’t be trusted as sheriff anymore. 

Beca sighed a little as she sat down next to Chloe, holding her own cup. “I know. We’ll have to stick to behind closed doors.” 

Chloe nodded. “And Oliver? He’s bound to notice something shifting, even if we’re really careful.” 

Beca thought about it for a little while, gazing out at the horizon. “Do you think we should tell him? And be very clear it should stay a secret no matter what.” 

It was Chloe’s turn to ponder over that. “I think he’s old enough, yes.” 

“We don’t have to do it right away,” Beca told her then, reaching out to take her hand. “But we can’t risk him seeing something and telling one of his school friends.” 

“No, I know,” Chloe muttered, then took a deep breath. “There is a lot at stake.” 

Beca lifted their joined hands and brushed a kiss to the back of Chloe’s. “We’ll be alright.” 

Chloe moved to lie her head on Beca’s shoulder. “Can we stay here for another little while?” 

“What about the store?” 

“The store can wait.” 

*

Sneaking around the house was thrilling at first, Chloe had to admit. For the following two weeks, evenings followed the same ritual: Beca would help Oliver with his reading while Chloe made supper, which they would eat at the table, then Chloe would tuck Oliver into bed while Beca took care of the dishes and locking up. 

“Is he asleep?” Beca asked upon hearing Chloe’s footsteps down the stairs. 

“Not yet,” Chloe replied. “He wants to read the book Aubrey got him.” 

“He’s doing really well with his reading.” 

Chloe smiled as she stepped closer. “Yes.” 

She took the sponge from Beca’s hand and set it aside, dipping her head lower to press a kiss to her lips. Beca’s satisfied hum sent a chill down Chloe’s spine as she deepened the kiss, one she had been craving for since they’d parted that morning. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Beca told her when they parted, hand brushing at Chloe’s hip. 

“I did, too.” 

Just as Chloe was leaning in for another kiss, the sound of a floorboard creaking made her freeze. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Oliver frozen in his tracks in the middle of the staircase, his plush animal dangling from his hold. 

Beca’s hand disappeared from Chloe’s waist as though it had touched a hot stove. 

“Why are you kissing the sheriff, Mama?” He asked, confusion rather than aversion etched in his features. 

Chloe briefly pursed her lips and met Beca’s eyes, receiving a soft nod in response. “Do you want me to leave the two of you alone?” Beca murmured. 

Chloe shook her head, taking Beca’s hand then turning towards her son. “Come have a seat, sweetheart.” 

Oliver carefully climbed down one step at a time, then clambered up a chair. Chloe and Beca sat down too, Chloe taking a deep, grounding breath. 

“Do you understand what being in love means, honey?” 

Oliver gave a nod. “It’s when you like someone a lot.” 

“Yes. There are different kinds of love. The love we have for our family, our friends and then there is the romantic kind.” 

“Like you and daddy?” 

Oliver only remembered Henry in scattered pieces now: stories Chloe would tell and the few photographs she had of him, which she kept in a box in her dresser. 

“Yes, just like me and daddy.” 

Oliver seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “Do you love Beca like you loved daddy?” 

“Yes, I do,” Chloe murmured, finding Beca’s gaze briefly. “But that doesn’t mean I will forget about your father. I loved him very much, too.” 

Oliver nodded, then glanced towards Beca. “Do you love my Mama, too?” 

Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand. “Very much so.” 

“Okay.” 

“Is that alright?” Chloe asked him. 

Oliver nodded once more. “I like Sheriff Beca. I don’t want her to move out.” 

Chloe felt the tension instantly leave her shoulders. “Alright. Then I think we can keep her.” 

Oliver giggled. “Yeah.” 

Chloe smiled briefly, then sobered up as she was reminded of the other edge of that sword. “There is one important matter we need to talk about, baby,” she started, making sure she had Oliver’s full attention. “For most people in town, two women loving each other is not okay.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, it goes against the rules.” 

“Like when John from school says girls can’t climb trees? I think that’s a mean thing to say,” Oliver muttered. “Girls can do what they like.” 

Chloe felt pride bloom in her chest over those words. “That’s right.” She took a pause. “But no, it’s not exactly the same. People just don’t think two women, or two men for that matter, belong together. To those people, this kind of love is just as bad as stealing, or hurting someone.” 

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed. “Would people say mean things if they find out you love Sheriff Beca?” 

Chloe nodded slowly. “They would.” 

“So I can’t tell anyone?” 

“I’m afraid not, baby.” 

“Not even Tom?” 

Chloe pushed against the sadness threatening to flood her. “Not even Tom. Do you think you’ll manage?” 

“I’m very good at keeping secrets,” Oliver told them. “I won’t tell. Cross my heart.” 

Chloe stood and bent down to hug him tightly. “I love you so much, Ollie.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Now go back to bed, it’s a school night.” 

Oliver huffed but complied, kissing Chloe’s cheek before he headed back up the stairs. 

“That went well, I think?” Chloe said as she sat back down next to Beca. 

“More than well, I’d say. He’s a good lad.” 

“I’m really proud of him.” Chloe covered Beca’s hand with her own. Physical touch always seemed to ground her. “He’s been doing so much better since you moved in.”

“I’m glad. He’s become very dear to me.” 

“I know,” Chloe whispered. “I’ve known since the day you rode out to get help.” 

Beca leaned in for a soft kiss. “You know what?” She smirked. “Now that he knows, I don’t have to sneak out in the middle of the night to go back to my own bed.” 

Chloe giggled and stood, linking her fingers through Beca’s. “I think we should take advantage of that right this minute…” 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” 

*

Chloe should have known it was only a matter of weeks before Beca and Oliver ganged up on her on some type of matter. 

Said matter showed up in Beca’s arms on a scalding summer evening. A puppy, not older than a few months old, its tan-and-white fur so matted with mud that it was difficult to tell what color it had originally been.

“Who’s this?” 

Oliver ran in a second later, out of breath. They had gone fishing after school. “We found him by Miller’s creek.” 

“Oh?” 

“He was by himself,” Beca said. “No mother around, no littermates.” 

Chloe hummed, leaning against the counter as she tried to keep her knowing smile at bay. “Is that right?” 

“He’s really thin, too,” Olived piped up. 

“And stinky,” Chloe pointed out with a grimace. “My store smells like something died and decomposed here.” 

Beca winced, chuckling. “We suspect he might have rolled into some dead carcass.” 

“We wanted to give him a bath and some food!” Oliver exclaimed. 

“And then what?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. 

“We could keep him!” Oliver continued. “Beca said so.” 

The look on Beca’s face told Chloe she had told Oliver not to say that. She stifled a laugh by pressing her lips hard together, even though she knew perfectly well Beca would be able to tell she was finding it amusing. 

“I see,” Chloe eventually muttered, casting Beca a look which received a sheepish smile in return. “And who’s going to take care of him? Feed him and take him outside early in the morning so he can do his business?” 

“Me!” Oliver was barely keeping still. “I will, I promise!” 

“And what about when you’re in school?” 

“He can be Beca’s right hand!” 

Chloe let out a chuckle. “Oh, you two have it all planned out, don’t you?” She sighed. “Why don’t you go give him a bath while I think about it.” 

As Oliver bounded upstairs to get their tin bathtub ready, Chloe gave Beca another pointed look. 

“So you two are ganging up on me now?” 

Beca laughed and stepped closer, shrugging. “He was really excited.” 

“He’s got you wrapped around his pinky finger is what it is,” Chloe said with a shake of her head. “But I suppose a dog would be nice to have around the house.” 

Beca grinned. “I’m going to go help Oliver right now to make sure he doesn’t flood the bathroom, but I’ll show you how grateful I am later tonight.” 

Chloe felt her entire face flush, biting hard on her bottom lip to keep her smile at bay as Beca sent her a wink on her way out. 

Chloe closed the store about ten minutes later and headed upstairs, sounds of laughter growing louder as she walked down the hall towards the washroom. 

“What do you think we should name him?” She heard Beca ask and peeked through the gap in the door to see Beca and Oliver rubbing the dog dry with a towel. 

“Sheriff! Since he’ll be working with you.” 

Beca chuckled. “Don’t you think people will confuse the both of us?” 

“Nooo, he’s a dog, silly!” 

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” 

Oliver giggled again, grinning when he saw Chloe come in. “He’s all clean!” 

Chloe hummed. “He might need a couple more baths to get rid of that smell, though.” 

“Does that mean we can keep him?” 

“On a trial basis first,” Chloe said, though part of her wanted to say yes right away because well, that pup really was adorable. But holding off on an answer would also be a good learning experience for Oliver, so he didn’t think everything in life was given to him on a silver platter. “I want to see if you can truly be responsible for it.”

Oliver rushed forward to wrap his arms around Chloe’s waist. “Thank you!” 

A heartfelt laugh burst past Chloe’s lips as she looped her own arms around his shoulders. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” 

“I’ll take Sheriff for a walk right away,” Oliver announced. “Show him around town.” 

“Be back before sundown,” Chloe called out after him as he ran towards the stairs, the pup trotting after him. 

“I will!” 

Beca smiled and rose to her feet, making her way over to Chloe and snaking her arms around Chloe’s waist. “Hello, you.” 

Chloe felt her entire body react to the sudden proximity. She wondered if that would ever go away, not that she minded one bit. “Hi.” 

Their lips met for a soft, lingering kiss. “I love the life that we have,” Beca murmured when they pulled away. 

“I do, too.” 

“Will it be enough, though? For you, I mean,” Beca continued. “Will you be okay with never being able to live our story in the broad daylight?” 

Chloe nodded, needing no time to think about her answer. “I do not care about that in the slightest. This… is my secret safe haven. All that matters to me is that we get to be with each other behind closed doors.” 

Beca sweetly nudged her nose against Chloe. “Me too.” 

As they headed downstairs to settle on the porch, Chloe found herself thinking about the first day she’d seen Beca. 

Mrs. Perry was right, after all; her and the sheriff turned out to be a brilliant match.