Saffron’s Savior – Snippet.

Saffron’s Savior (Westward Home and Hearts)

Saffie had been awoken at dawn by the marshal and accused of shooting Abe in the saloon. No matter how hard she tried to convince them, no one would believe she was Saffron and not Jane Brown.

With her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and wearing a nightgown, it was an easy mistake to make. Had her hair been plaited and pinned back from her face, as it normally was, her slightly thinner features would have been highlighted, as would the deeper blue of her eyes. For the marshal and the men from the posse, exhausted from riding around half the night, it was reasonable for them to mistake her for Jane. Especially as she was in Abe’s house. Jane had obviously not told anyone about having a twin sister.

Her sister was nowhere to be found. Over the years, she had often let Saffie take the blame for many of her misdeeds. To think her sister would betray her like this was heartbreaking. To let her die for a crime she herself had committed was despicable.

Jane had mentioned Abe used to hit and punch her on many occasions, but she had put up with it. “I like the gifts he buys me, so a slap or two is a small price to pay.”

To live with a man, to allow him the liberties of a husband without the benefit of a wedding ring, was quite shocking to Saffie’s way of thinking. It went against everything their religious parents had taught them.

“You were always too pious for your own good, Saffie. Besides, I’m working on a way out of this if Abe gets tired of me. I know this relationship won’t last. It never does for men like him.”

“Like what?” she had queried.

The conversation they had shared before she retired to bed now echoed in her ears. “I’ve been writing to a rancher in Miner’s Rest who wants me to become his mail-order bride.”

Jane had given a tinkling laugh. “I even went for an interview with a woman called Milly Crenshaw who organizes these things. The prospective groom meets her, too. She travels all over the place matching couples up. I saw her in Denver.”

“How could you do such a thing?”

Jane gave a sneering laugh. “She was quite impressed when I mentioned growing up on a ranch. I’ve been writing to this Miles Treadwell, to see if he’s rich or not.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know, he never exactly said, but he wants to marry me.”

When had her sister become so hard and mercenary? Life had never been easy for them, but it had not been too bad. They had never gone hungry. Ma had been a good seamstress and had been able to cut down discarded women’s dresses to make clothes for them. Not once had they ever gone to bed hungry or worn ragged clothing, but her sister had always craved more.

At the age of sixteen, six years ago, she had run away. Saffie didn’t really want to know what her sister had done during the intervening years, but it would not have been good. Then she ended up living in sin with a man like Abe Mayberry.

Saffie only had weeks left before meeting her maker. Other than dying, the worst thing would be to lose her dignity. She feared making an exhibition of herself by crying and screaming, pleading for mercy or swooning. Pride was the only thing she had left. Pa used to always say that a man without pride had nothing. She wanted to be brave yet feared she might not be.

“I don’t want to be a sniveling coward,” she muttered. I don’t want to die at all, she thought frantically, least of all for something I haven’t done.

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