A Bride for Deke

deserve to get what’s coming to you for taking Deke from me.”
Amalie was stunned. She tried desperately to find the words to fight back. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and said, “I don’t care what your cousin said. I was never a soiled dove, and I never worked for Rex Horrison. Go ahead and write your letter if you need money and revenge that badly. Deke will take care of it for me.” She spun on her heels and walked away with her head held high, but she was shaking so hard, she feared she might stumble.
Rex had put out a bounty for information as to her whereabouts. Why would he do that? She needed to find Deke and quickly, but she thought better of it. If Deke did anything to help her, Rex and his men might hurt Deke or even kill him. No, the best thing to do was leave town, and soon.
Amalie didn’t say much on the ride back to the ranch, feigning tiredness, but her mind raced with ways to keep Deke and Nate safe. Leaving was her only option.
She was up before Deke and Nate each morning to prepare breakfast. Tomorrow, she’d wake earlier or perhaps not sleep at all, and leave before they knew she was gone. It was the only way.

Chapter Eleven
Amalie’s body felt tired and sore when she reined Honey up at the livery stable. She didn’t realize that ten miles would take so long or drain her body of energy. She groaned as she dropped off Honey’s back and tried to stand up straight.
“Afternoon, ma’am. How can I help ya?” an older gentleman with gray hair and beard asked.
“I’m leaving on the stage, and I need to leave my horse here with you for a few days until my husband sends someone to fetch her,” Amalie explained.
“Sure thing, ma’am. I can do that for ya.”
“Thanks,” Amalie said, handing the man some money. “Treat her well. I think she’s tired. She likes apples and carrots. Please see that she gets one or the other each day.”
The man slipped the money into his pocket and smiled. “I’ll take good care of her, don’t ya worry.”
Amalie nodded and added, “My husband, Deke Sperling, will be here or send someone from our ranch in a few days at most.”
“Sperling? Yes, ma’am. I’ll take good care and keep her safe for ya.”
Honey neighed, and Amalie stroked the sweet horse’s neck. Tears fought to escape Amalie’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, girl. You’ve listened to all my troubles and never judged me. Be good for Deke and Nate. Maybe, someday, you’ll have another lady to spend time with, but it won’t be me.”
Amalie thanked the man again and headed for the mercantile, where the hostler said the stage would stop inside of an hour.
She entered the mercantile and inquired about the time of the stage’s arrival. Amalie was informed that the hostler had been correct: it was expected soon. She browsed for a while, bought a bag of penny candy and two books for her trip, and waited outside on the bench in front of the mercantile.
When the stage arrived, she was pleased to see that the other passenger wasn’t going on to Cheyenne, and she could enjoy the privacy of an empty stagecoach, at least for a while. Handing her single carpetbag—containing only the belongings she had initially brought with her from St. Louis—to the driver, she climbed into the coach, sat back, and closed her eyes.
When the stage was on its way, and there was no one to see or hear her, Amalie broke down and sobbed. Until she’d ridden away from the ranch, she hadn’t realized just how much she loved Deke or how empty she’d feel being away from him. Amalie understood why he didn’t want a real marriage, but her heart still ached. Even if he had wanted her as his wife, she couldn’t let Rex Horrison hurt Deke. She had to leave.
Amalie fell asleep. She was surprised when they arrived in Cheyenne. She must have been more exhausted than she’d thought and slept through the night. She realized that she did feel somewhat refreshed as she accepted her carpetbag from the driver, thanked him, and strode toward the train station where she saw the train depot and ticket agent’s window. She was hurrying toward it when a tall, muscular man stopped her.
“Morning, Missus Sperling,” he said. “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Josiah Fullman, and I’d like to speak to you.”
Amalie paled. Her thoughts raced. U.S. Marshal? Why did he want to speak to her? She hadn’t stolen Honey. You couldn’t be accused of stealing a horse if it belonged to a ranch where you were a part-owner, and as long as she was married to Deke, she owned part of the ranch. He’d even said that she did.
It couldn’t be about the money she had with her—that was hers. Deke had given it to her so she wouldn’t have to ask him for anything when she’d shopped in town. No, this must be something else.
Rex Horrison’s bounty? Would a U.S. Marshal collect a bounty, and how did he know where she was?”
“What do you want?” Amalie stammered.
“Please, come and sit down on the bench.” The marshal pointed at a wood bench alongside the ticket agent’s office. “I received a telegram from your husband, asking me to keep an eye out for you.”
Amalie walked to the bench and dropped down with a thud. Her knees gave out, and she knew she was in trouble. Deke had sent a marshal after her.
She turned her head to look at Marshal Fullman and blurted, “You can’t arrest me for taking my own horse. Deke gave Honey to me. He said I owned half of his ranch. Nate owns the other