With Isaac wrapped up snugly in a cloth sling, his back to hers and a bonnet on his head, Eliza rode into town on her horse, Samson, that Arthur had caught her. When she'd made it to the main thoroughfare, she dismounted and tethered Samson, unwrapping Isaac and tucking the sling and bonnet into her saddlebag. With Isaac on her hip, she made her way from store to store for what she needed, passing the clothiers and telling herself she didn't need any new material for a new gown. She bought a single book from the bookstore and began making her way in the direction of Mr. Andrews's general store, greeting a few kind souls on the way whom she hadn't seen in a while.

As she moved about with a smile in her face, the town's new sheriff caught sight of her.

"Jesus Christ," he huffed from his place leaning against the column on the boardwalk in front of his office. "Would you look at that fine little slice of paradise," he said to his deputy, who wasn't new to town and was rolling himself a fresh cigarette.

"Huh?" he said looking up. "Who?"

"That one," he nodded, gnawing on a wad of tobacco and eyeing the way loose bits of her golden hair caught the breeze and created a halo around her head in the sun. "One with a babe under her arm and no ring glintin' on her finger."

"Oh, that's Eliza," his deputy said.

"What's the story on her?" he said as he spat.

"Who, little Eliza? Well, she's lived here her whole life. Her ma and pa passed, and not long after that, she took up waitressin' over at the saloon. Least 'til she got knocked up. Never did say who the feller was."

"So she's a tramp," the new sheriff said with a grin. "Just the way I like 'em. I mighta known." He grabbed his belt and straightened off the column as he spat the rest of his tobacco.

"You ain't afraid of a package deal?"

"With a body like that? Hell, she could have a whole ant hill of children." He cocked his chin to the side. "If she's a tramp, the good Lord made her just for me." He stepped off the boardwalk and called back to him. "Stay here. Watch the office."

As Eliza started down a shadowed alley to cut across to the general store, he turned down it and caught up with her.

"Well, howdy," he drawled. As she stopped and turned to him, he grabbed the brim of his hat. "Name's Cavendish. I'm the new sheriff in Misty Willow. Don't believe we've had the pleasure of meetin'."

She smiled. "I thought I'd heard we were gettin' a new sheriff. Just didn't think you'd make it here so soon. I'm Eliza. It's lovely to meet you." She looked at Isaac. "And this is Isaac."

"Hey there, little guy. Yeah…" he said in his low, scratchy voice with a grin at Isaac. "Not every day you run into two pretty little birds." He peered back at her.

"That's very kind of you," she nodded.

"Yeah—" he grunted as he shifted his weight. "It's a pretty nice town. But I haven't been here long; I been just barely gettin' my feet wet! Need someone to show me around, tell me what's what."

"Well…just like with any town, you can start in one of two places: the church, or the saloon," she said with a nod and smiled when he laughed. "Got busybodies in both, can help you with that."

His chuckle trickled away, and his eyes met hers in a way that made his smirk seem to disappear. "I hear tell you know one a little better than the other."

Her smile fell ever so slowly, and she tried to lift her chin. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did grow up in church, Sheriff Cavendish. If that's what you mean."

He came closer and gave his head a small shake. "It ain't. You know it ain't." Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he tilted his head towards Isaac. "Just where did he come from, hm?"

With her breath hitching, she frowned, wondering if she'd ever fully escape the curse of this ugly reputation. "I'm not a whore, sheriff," she said quietly. "I never was."

"Ain't the case from what I can tell." Without removing his eyes from hers, he reached out and took hold of her empty left ring finger, bringing it up within her line of sight. "Not the professional kind, you mean."

Her brows rose, and she swallowed, trying to keep her eyes from stinging.

"No matter, girly. Don't have to be paid to be good," he said taking a couple more steps towards her. "I'm willin' to lay money down that that… Mm…" He looked her up and down, cocking his head and smacking his tongue. "That that fine little body of yours is more than enough to make up for any lack of know-how. 'Sides." He scrunched his nose and grinned wider. "It's clear you know just plenty."

He came even closer, crowding her. Still holding Isaac with one arm, she took a step back, panicking when she met the wall. He was finally so close she could smell his fowl breath, and she shut her eyes and turned her head.

"I'm thinkin' you oughta come by the office without the kid," he murmured, his face following hers as she squirmed against the wall, "welcome me proper."

With one hand he lifted a wisp of her hair from her face. With the other he reached back and grabbed her bottom through her skirt so hard she knew she'd have a bruise, but he never loosened his cruel grasp as he yanked her forcefully towards his hip. She sucked in a gasp and nearly gagged when she realized it was the same air he'd breathed out. She caught sight of him looking down at her mouth ravenously as he leaned forward with his open.

Just then a gurgling burp arose from Isaac's throat, and a spray of creamy, chunky spit-up spewed out of him onto the sheriff's face and into his mouth. As the man released his grip from Eliza's bottom, her face relaxed. When she saw what Isaac had done, she chuffed a single incredulous laugh as her jaw dropped, and the corners of her mouth drew up into a grin. Something shifted inside her as she watched the grimy man wince.

"Oh, sheriff…" she whispered. "You know, he's teethin' these days, poor thing; and I have been givin' him solid food. Got him almost completely weaned—really, I do. He's doin' so well, but every now and then, I can't help but give him mama's best—breastmilk." She tisked her tongue as his eyes went wide and he spat and coughed. "It's real sour when it comes up, ain't it?" she said sweetly. With her free hand she reached out as if for the lapel of his jacket. "Here, let me help you with that." Instead she grabbed his shoulder and swiftly reared her leg back as far as she could get it, jamming her knee up into his groin with all the force she could muster. "You rotten jackass."

He immediately cried out hoarsely and crumpled to the ground, both hands on his balls. "I could take you in for this!" he groaned as he writhed on his side. "Assaultin' an officer of the law!"

"And you'll have to explain just why you were close enough for my son to spit up all over your face. Won't you?"

He groaned and squirmed in the dust and dirt. "You're sharper than you look."

"And just what is it I look like, mister?" she glared down at him. "Better take a cold, hard look in the mirror before you even think about openin' your mouth to answer me. Because from where I'm standin', all I see is a sad sack of shit. Manhandlin' me! In front of my child, no less! Usin' your position to intimidate and brutalize me!" She brought her free hand up around Isaac, still staring at him as he cried and held his crotch. "I know this town. And it's only a matter of time before they realize just what kind of a man you are, and ship you right back to whatever hell it is you crawled out of. You pathetic excuse for a human being, much less a sheriff." When she took a step forward, a cloud of dust rose up into his face. She brought the toe of her boot under his chin, lifting his face so he had to look up at her. "You ever come near either of us again, you'll have hell to pay someone. Make no mistake."

With that, she briskly stepped off and left the alley. When she got around the corner, she covered her mouth. Never in her life had she stood up for herself like that; never had she cursed so much either. An enormous spurt of relief and energy coursed through her, and she jittered and danced with a giggle. As she walked, she cleaned up Isaac's mouth and kissed him over and over again. "I love you, baby, I love you!" He smiled back at her with his little index finger in his open mouth. "You protectin' me while your daddy's away? Ooh, I love you for it!" With a bright grin she nuzzled her nose back and forth across his, causing his eyelids to quickly flutter.

She kept walking and thought about Arthur, how he was nothing like that vile, sinister man. In fact, men like that made him look like a saint. Arthur could be gentle though he couldn't see it, kind though he wouldn't admit it. She looked back into his son's bright blue-green eyes and kissed his soft, plump cheek, tickling him until she got his precious, melodious little cackle.

.

It wasn't a week before she was kissing Arthur himself in the cool of the evening in her bedroom. She was sitting in her white nightgown atop the dresser against the wall facing the end of the bed—the dresser that turned out to be just the right height—with her knees bent and her bare feet pressed tight up against the bed's oak footboard as Arthur stood between her thighs in nothing but one of his open, loose button-downs. As a sleeve of her nightgown fell from her shoulder and she slipped a hand between his shirt and skin, she thought about the way she didn't mind breathing the same breath as him, about the way their lips fit perfectly together, the way he held her near her ribs just under her breast, the way his other hand slid softly up her bare thigh—so different from the way she'd been touched earlier in the week.

When Arthur drew back from kissing the hollow space above her collarbone, he noticed how her eyes were flirting with closing, her breath escaping her in soft waves, her head gently lolling backwards and forwards. "You fallin' asleep?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "No! I'm not. I'm not!" she breathed. "I'm just…really enjoying myself," she let out a wispy laugh.

He smiled brightly and kissed her as she brought her fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

.

.

"Is love so fragile and the heart so hollow—

shatter with words, impossible to follow?

You're saying I'm fragile; I try not to be.

I search only for something I can't see.

I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know.

But I carry this feeling: when you walked into my house

that you won't be walking out the door."

.

"You in the moonlight, with your sleepy eyes,

could you ever love a man like me?

And you were right: when I walked into your house,

I knew I'd never want to leave.

Sometimes I'm a strong man, sometimes cold and scared…

But that time I saw you,

I knew with you to light my nights, somehow I'd get by."

.

"Lovers, face to face.

Stay with me, stay.

I need you to love me.

I need you today.

Give to me your leather,

Take from me my lace."

.

- Stevie Knicks & Don Henley, "Leather and Lace"

Shout out to each and every single one of my wonderful, special readers—especially those who leave reviews to let me and other readers know your thoughts! You know who you are, and you know you're amazing. You make this so worthwhile and fun, and I can't thank you enough. I'd like to reach out to reader "gracie," for your wonderful reviews! I'm unable to reply to guest reviews on this site, but I just wanted to let you know that I see them and am so thankful for them. It means so much to me to know that you're reading and that you enjoy it. So thank you!