Chapter 31

Violet leaned against the closed front door and took a deep, shuddering breath.

She had not been raised to be mean to anyone. Neither she nor her three sisters would have ever dreamed of speaking a harsh word or intentionally choosing to hurt someone. She had to draw from the deepest part of herself to act rudely toward Thomas, but she knew it must be done.

No, that wasn’t true. She didn’t know anything in this moment but didn’t see how it would benefit either of them to continue the association. Better to end things right here, before they became further entangled.

She couldn’t ponder over any of it.

A princess in her pantry waited to be released.

Violet took two steps toward the kitchen before a knock sounded on the front door.

Could he really be back?

She turned and yanked the door open, ready to deliver an angry barrage of words designed to remove him from her life forever. Fortunately, she did not begin to speak before opening the door.

Sheriff Hanson removed his black hat when he saw her. “Miss Bloom.”

She glanced behind him. Gloom and a darkening sky—but no sign of the man who had recently departed.

Her gaze fell on the badge pinned to the lapel of his worn black coat, then rose to meet blue eyes that hinted he’d seen just about everything a man could see. Lines ran from the corners of his eyes and creases etched his forehead, but they added to his rugged appeal.

Violet guessed him to be in his late fifties. Had he been younger, and she not already battling with a lost heart, he would have been welcome to linger on her doorstep. Instead, she searched for a way to hurry him along.

“Sheriff. I didn’t, ah, well I’m a bit surprised to see you. Is anything wrong over at the schoolhouse?” One of her biggest fears, that someone would damage that precious building and Wylder would lose the school, sent her pulse racing.

“No, nothing like that, ma’am. I don’t mean to startle you, but this isn’t about the schoolhouse.” He paused, as if waiting for her to invite him in. When she didn’t, he put a hand in his pocket and pulled out her reticule. “I know you were accosted on Wylder Street, and I am truly sorry for that. It seems that the holidays can bring out the worst in folks sometimes.”

She took the torn, dirty item from him with her left hand.

“The holidays? Why, I would think that this time of year would encourage kindness and goodwill.” She could not tell him she suspected she had been targeted because of the Chinese connection. “Why ever would someone do this to another during this festive season? I don’t understand.”

The sheriff twirled his hat in his hands. “Well, it’s like this: People can be hard-pressed for money during the holidays. Winter can be lean times, even without the added cost of festivities. One desperate moment can turn a law-abiding citizen into a miscreant. I think that’s what happened here.”

He made good points. His law enforcement expertise showed how the criminal mind worked.

She wanted to ask him about how to deal with assassins but of course she could not.

“Yes, well you’re probably correct. It’s unfortunate that folks would do such things, but I see how it happens.”

“I didn’t find your bag. A girl, I believe the eldest Milligan child, found it. She brought it home to her mother and her mother brought it to me. The Milligan girl seemed certain it belongs to you. Then I heard from Doc that you were assaulted and lost your property, so I put it all together and came right over.”

Her free-spirited sister, Daisy, had received the reticule as a gift and thought it too “fussy” so she passed it on to Violet, who had been grateful to receive it.

It reminded her of Daisy. Amazing how small things could cover so many miles in an instant.

“I am thankful for your kindness. And I will show my gratitude to Missus Milligan and her daughter, as well.”

The sheriff put his hat on. He looked down at her arm and gave his head a slow, sad shake. “You take care, Miss Bloom. I hate to see anyone hurt in Wylder. I am sorry for what happened this morning. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.”

Her arm hurt, her heart hurt, and she felt tuckered out emotionally, physically, and spiritually, but she managed a nod.

“Thank you, Sheriff. Good day.”

This time when she shut the door, she locked it. It didn’t matter who came calling, she wasn’t letting them in. She’d done enough socializing for one day already.