The Deputy's Son
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About this ebook
Telling a Deputy Sheriff you have his son isn’t as easy as it may seem ...
Vanetta Wilcox is in mourning for her sister, but when she arrives in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, with her young nephew, everyone assumes she’s widowed, and she doesn’t know how to tell the truth. She only wants to fulfill her sister’s dying request that a certain John Stevens be told he has a son. But Vanetta makes a very bad impression on Deputy Stevens when she insists he run an intoxicated man out of the house her grandmother left to her. If she’s lucky maybe he won’t even want his son.
John Stevens considers Vanetta as a cantankerous widow whose little boy has a bad attitude and wants nothing to do with them. So why can’t he get her and her kissable lips out of his mind? In their small town there’s no avoiding her, especially when he keeps running into her—literally—everywhere he goes. Maybe he should try a soft word to turn away her and her wrath. He’s game to see if it will work, or maybe backfire.
The Deputy’s Son is the tenth book in the Birthstone Brides of Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, a real town in mid-Kansas. The series of twelve novellas are written by Mildred Colvin and Linda Cushman. If you like heartwarming, clean and wholesome small town romances, you’ll love learning about the twelve Birthstone Brides who set one small town buzzing as each month a bachelor meets his match with the woman of his heart. Come take a look into Cottonwood Falls in 1873.
Download your copy today of The Deputy’s Son. Each novella is a sweet, Christian romance that will give you adventure, excitement, faith, hope, and romance.
Don’t miss a single month of Birthstone Brides!
Book 1: Castles in the Sky by Linda Cushman
Book 2: Hometown Love by Mildred Colvin
Book 3: Love Beyond the Fence by Mildred Colvin
Book 4: Softly Comes Love by Linda Cushman
Book 5: Unchanging Love by Linda Cushman
Book 6: Tricked into Marriage by Mildred Colvin
Book 7: July Wildfire by Linda Cushman
Book 8: Impersonating the Teacher by Mildred Colvin
Book 9: Home by September by Linda Cushman
Book 10: The Deputy’s Son by Mildred Colvin
Book 11: The Sheriff’s Hope by Linda Cushman
Book 12: The Christmas Bride by Mildred Colvin
Mildred Colvin
Mildred Colvin is a wife, mother of three, and grandmother to three beautiful girls. She started writing when her children were young as they asked for stories. Not from a book. No! They were only satisfied when she made up stories. As the stories grew, she wrote some down and sent them off to magazines. Eight were published before her imagination turned toward love stories, which is what she enjoys reading.She has been writing Christian or clean and wholesome romance since 2001. Over the years several readers from pre-teens to older kids in their eighties and nineties have written expressing their interest in her books. She always loves to hear about one of her stories touching someone's heart. Her purpose in writing is to encourage, entertain, and bless someone else.She lives in the United States and sets her characters in the middle states from Texas to Nebraska and Iowa and reaching across Illinois to Colorado. She also has an Oregon Trail series, but the Great Plains states are her favorite setting.She is active in a very special critique group and has written and published over 60 books in both historical and contemporary themes, and plans to continue writing as long as God allows. He has been good in giving her many ideas for stories. Maybe more than she will be able to finish, but she enjoys each one.Please take a moment to visit her website at www.mildredcolvin.weebly.com, and sign up for her Romantic Reflections Newsletter to learn when new books are released. Also learn of promotions and free books through her newsletter.And take a look at her books. You might find something you don't want to put down.
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The Deputy's Son - Mildred Colvin
The Deputy’s Son
Mildred Colvin
The Deputy’s Son
Historical Christian Romance
Copyright ©2017 by Mildred Colvin
All Rights Reserved
Cover photo copyright©Ivan Vander Biesen/Dreamstime
Smashwords Version
Scripture portions are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from its author except for brief quotations in printed reviews. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
DEDICATION
Above all I dedicate this book to the Lord above who gives the ability to write and requires responsibility along with that gift. My goal is to continue learning and writing the stories He gives for His will. I hope you enjoy The Deputy’s Son and gain from reading it.
Chapter 1
Vanetta allowed her gaze to sweep over the white, two story house sitting alone in the middle of a large lot at the south edge of Cottonwood Falls, Kansas. A small red barn peeked out from behind.
Yes, this was the right place. Sha gave a decisive nod and reached for Jonathan’s hand.
Mama, are we there?
He looked up at her, his shoulders drooping, as he scuffed his shoe in the dirt road.
Yes, this is it. I remember from the last time I was here.
She shook her head. My, that was a long time ago.
When you were little like me?
A lock of dark hair fell into his large blue eyes, and he flipped it away with a quick jerk of his head.
Vanetta couldn’t have kept the affectionate smile from her face if she’d tried. Oh, how she loved her little boy. He’d been hers for six years in every way but legal. And now she was all he had. But she didn’t want to stop there. If she could adopt him, she would. First, though, she had to find his father and hope the man wanted nothing to do with him.
Well, what are we waiting for?
She lifted her black mourning skirt and climbed the steps to the wrap-around porch, stopping only a moment to enjoy the quiet, feeling a peace she almost couldn’t remember.
Aren’t we going inside?
Jonathan scrunched his mouth in the way he had when he didn’t understand.
Yes, of course.
She hoped the door wasn’t locked. The lawyer, a Mr. Conner, had sent a letter with a skeleton key enclosed, but said he’d leave the door unlocked as no one ever bothered anything in their small town. She hoped he was right because her grandmother’s things should be here just as she’d left them when she passed on. She pushed the door open and breathed a sigh of relief. Well, let’s go in, shall we, Jon?
Okay.
Her little boy’s voice drooped the same as he did. No wonder. They’d been up at the crack of dawn to catch the train, had scarcely eaten enough to be called a meal, and here it was well into the afternoon. He was worn out just as she was.
She pushed the door open and let Jon go in ahead of her. As she followed, she almost knocked him over when he stopped in front of her. Jon, what’s wrong?
Is that man dead?
She followed the line his pointing finger made to a fainting couch piled with quilts on the opposite wall. Then a snore brought her eyes to the face sticking out at one end and covered with gray whiskers.
She screamed.
The face moved with a snort, and beady eyes peered at her from under bushy gray eyebrows.
She grabbed Jonathan and pulled him back, holding him to keep him from going any closer.
The head slowly lifted, propped by a hand that looked like it’d never seen a wash basin.
What are you doing here?
He snorted. It should be obvious, Ma’am, that I am trying to get some sleep. I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my house and let me get on with it.
Shocked at his response, her grip on Jonathan slackened at the same time he lunged forward, his tiny fist raised. This is my Mama’s house, and you better get out.
The old man eyed the small boy. Don’t look like it to me, sonny, seein’ as I was here first. Go find your own house.
He leaned forward and wavered as if he might fall off the couch, his hand groping at the floor. In another instant, he pulled a long-necked yellowish-brown bottle out from under the quilts and took a long swig.
Vanetta watched mesmerized at behavior she’d never seen before as he pulled the bottle away, looked down the neck, turned it upside down, and shook it before tossing it aside. The bottle landed on the floor with a loud clatter and rolled a couple of feet before coming to a stop. That’s when she noticed other similar bottles lying on the floor. In all her imaginings, she had never expected to see such a thing in her grandmother’s house. Oh my, if Grandma knew of this, she’d roll over in her grave.
The man simply gave her a blood-shot stare and sank back against the pillow that held the hollow where his head had been.
Well, I never!
Vanetta stomped her foot, getting no response from the man. If you don’t get up and get out of my house now, I’ll get the law and insist they throw you out.
That got a response. He turned his face toward her and looked into her eyes then smiled.
At least she thought the curved opening between his mustache and unkempt whiskers was a smile.
Good idea. Yep, that’s a real good idea. While you’re gone I’ll get some sleep.
He closed his eyes, sniffed, and wiggled the whiskers over his mouth around for a bit then promptly let loose with a loud snore.
She stared at the unsightly man and wondered if she was imagining the entire thing. How could anyone drop off to sleep so quickly? She looked at the littered floor and shuddered. What she knew about spirits would become lost in one of those bottles. But surely, if he’d emptied every one of them, they were the reason he’d gone to sleep in less time than it took for her to stomp her foot. Which she belatedly did before grabbing Jon’s hand and pulling him to the door and the fresh air outside.
But, Mama, I wanted to see if he died.
Jonathan barely kept up with her quick steps fueled by anger.
~*~
Deputy John Stevens climbed the stairs to the sheriff’s office on the third floor using the hand rail to pull him ever upwards. Normally, he could run up the steps and have breath left over, but it’d been a hard two days with scarcely any time to sleep or eat. The sheriff’s posse had successfully found and rounded up four cattle rustlers after a long day and night of trailing and searching.
John had no sooner reached the sheriff’s desk and started around it to collapse in his chair than a female voice caught up with him.
Sheriff, I need a word with you.
The woman burst through the door, dragging a little boy with her.
What’d she want him to do, arrest the kid? He turned his back and continued to the chair, easing his tired muscles down before leaning back and resting his aching feet on the desk. His eyes wanted to close, but he kept them open by sheer force of will. Not that he could see much more than a blurred image of a hysterical woman and a bewildered-looking child.
What’s the problem? He steal somethin’?
Even his words were slurring. If he could just close his eyes for a moment.
Who? Jonathan? Of course not.
Wouldn’t be getting any sleep around that shrill voice. He closed his eyes anyway.
Have you been drinking too? What’s wrong with the men in this town?
Huh?
John’s boots hit the floor as he sat up