Page 2 of The Sheriff and the Outlaw

Chapter 2

Daxton

Whiskey River, Wyoming

Sheriff Daxton Clark sat up abruptly in his bed out of a sound sleep. Sweat poured down his bare muscular chest, breathing heavily as he looked around the room. Disoriented, he slowly began to recognize his surroundings… his bedroom… the room he used to share with his wife, Priscilla.

Trying to catch his breath, he ran his fingers through his dark brown, wavy hair in the dark room, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He had been dreaming of her again. The dream was always the same. She was leaving with another man, leaving him and their two children behind.

In reality, she had asked Mrs. Jenkins to watch the little ones for a while and had left. Andrew and Lillian were small then, only four and two. Mrs. Jenkins said that Priscilla had kissed them both goodbye, told them to be good boys and girls, and then left, never to be heard from again.

Daxton had gone home to an empty house with just a note on the table, saying that she could no longer take it, she never wanted to be a mother, and that the children were with Mrs. Jenkins. She had said that she was going to start a new life… with another man.

He waited for her to come back, but after a few years, he went to Laramie and filed for divorce, knowing that she wasn’t coming back, not sure what he would do if she ever did.

But in Daxton’s dream, she was always telling him goodbye with sorrow in her eyes, touched his cheek, and then headed toward a buckboard… driven by a faceless man.

He screamed after her, begging her not to leave, but she never turned around. She just stepped into the buckboard, and they drove away. Although he chased after her in his dream, he could never catch her and then she finally disappeared into the setting sun.

Now in the dark room, he rose from the bed, concentrating on steadying his breathing, when his bedroom door opened.

“Pa, are you all right?” Andrew asked, now eleven, cautiously peering into the room. “I heard you screaming again….”

Daxton smiled. Although his wife had left, at least she had left him the children. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had taken them with her. Of course, he would have fought her for them… no matter what it took.

Daxton scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m fine, son.” He stood, slipped on a cotton shirt, and ruffled his son’s dark brown hair. “Go on back to bed and try to get some sleep. It’s not morning yet.”

Andrew’s eyebrows pulled together, worry prominent in his deep green eyes, his mother’s eyes. “Are you sure, Pa? I can make some coffee—”

“No, I’m fine, son,” Daxton cut him off, not wanting to alarm his son. “Go on back to bed.”

Andrew nodded and hesitantly did as his father had instructed, slowly closing the door behind him.

Daxton headed into the dark living room, cool in the night air. It was early June, and the cold days of winter and springwere now behind them. When morning came and the sun rose high overhead, the thermometer outside the house would register in the 70s, only to become warmer in July, August, and September. Then it wouldn’t start to cool down again until October. But as hot as it had been in the afternoons, Daxton knew it would only get worse as the months wore on. They were in for one hot summer.

Daxton let out a deep breath, knowing he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. So, he guessed he should start the day early.

He headed into the kitchen, lit the stove, and put some coffee on to boil. While he was waiting, he walked out onto the front porch, not bothering to slip on his boots, and sat at the top of the stairs as thoughts of Priscilla filled his mind.

They had married in Arizona and had a good life there in the dry arid desert, when a man approached him and said that he was Calder Williams, the mayor of Whiskey River, a small town in Wyoming. He said the town needed a good sheriff and had offered Daxton the job.

At the time, Daxton had been a deputy in Arizona. Although he enjoyed his job, he didn’t make much money. So, when Calder Williams offered him the job as sheriff and more money than he was currently making, he jumped at the chance. He packed up his family, and together, he, Priscilla, and the children moved to Whiskey River.

Priscilla had liked Whiskey River at first, but then became disenchanted when the cold winters came. From there, things started slowly getting worse. He came home from work one day and Priscilla and the children were crying. He had lifted Lillian into his arms, took Andrew by the hand, and had led them into the kitchen and fed them, while Priscilla had broken down in tears, telling him that she didn’t want to be a mother, that it was just too hard for her.

At first, he told her to give it time and that she would feel better soon, but it never happened. Then one day, he packed her up along with the children and went to Laramie to see a doctor before Doc Morgan came to Whiskey River.

At first, Priscilla wouldn’t open up to the doctor, but eventually, she told him everything, that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother. The doctor had listened attentively, gave her a bottle of tonic for the nerves, and sent her home, telling them that she was just a “bit agitated” and needed to rest.

The “tonic” turned out to be glorified whiskey. Daxton came home from work a few days later to the children screaming bloody murder, with Andrew trying to wake her while she was passed out drunk on the sofa. Daxton took care of the children, calmed them, fed them, and put them to bed again. Then, he fixed her a bath and dropped her in the water, clothes and all. She squealed and started wailing that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother again.

Daxton wasn’t sure, but he thought that Andrew still remembered trying to wake his mother.

Unable to take any more, Daxton started taking the children to Mrs. Jenkins to babysit during the day while he was at work. At least this way, the children would be looked after properly.

Mrs. Jenkins never said a word or asked why, nor did she tell another living soul. She just said that she was happy to help out.

After that, Priscilla started to get better. The house was clean when he came home with the children, she was bathed and dressed, and dinner was ready. Daxton thought that maybe she just needed a little time.

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