The Accidental Lawman by Jill Marie Landis

stable, had loaned her a horse before, so she headed for his place. She kept up her pace, taking care not to trip on the uneven walk. A few yards down Main, a man crossed over to her side of the street. She recognized him in an instant. His bowler hat was a dead giveaway.
    Since their brief encounter at Laura Foster’s yesterday, she was bound and determined to keep her distance. Now here he was, hurrying down the boardwalk, walking directly toward her.
    She knew a moment’s panic and thought about heading home, but the Ellenbergs were depending on her. Besides the Lord must keep putting Hank Larson in her path for a reason. Perhaps it would be better to find out what, if anything, he’d discovered about a second holdup man.
    He stopped when he reached her and doffed his hat. “Miss Hawthorne.”
    “Mr. Larson.” She frowned. “Or should I call you Sheriff Larson?”
    “Please. No.” He centered his poor hat again. “What are you doing out this early?”
    “I’m on my way to the livery stable to borrow a horse.” She started walking again.
    He did an about-face and fell into step beside her. “I’d be happy to loan you mine.”
    “That’s very kind of you, but unnecessary.” She reached up to brush a stray lock of hair away from her eyelashes. “I really need to hurry. I’m needed at a nearby ranch.”
    “An errand of mercy, no doubt. Then I insist on driving you. My carriage is already hitched up. It’s right outside my office building.”
    “I’m sure you’re far too busy. You have a paper to publish.” And outlaws to track down.
    “I can’t very well put out a newspaper unless there’s something to write about. As you so succinctly put it two days ago in the bank, a wiser man might have realized there was no news around here.”
    “Have you found out any more about the robbery? About the man Laura Foster and I may have seen outside the bank?” She tried to sound as if she were only making casual conversation.
    “Not yet. I’ve been asking around, though.”
    She nearly tripped. He grabbed her arm just above the elbow to steady her. Amelia glanced over, met his blue eyes. She felt an immediate blush creep up her cheeks. Instantly, he let go.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    “Sorry,” he said.
    She hurried on toward the livery. Time was of the essence. Anything could happen to Rebekah Ellenberg and her unborn child while she, Amelia, was trudging down the street with the “sheriff” trailing along beside her.
    They reached the huge barn fronting Main Street, but the double doors were still closed.
    “Mick!” she called out, expecting a response from inside. “Open up, Mick. It’s Amelia.”
    Mick Robinson was usually up well before dawn, shoeing horses or tending to stock.
    “Looks like you’ll have to take me up on my offer,” Hank Larson said.
    Lord, I know You are never far from me.
    She stared at the locked barn doors in frustration and then walked around to look over the fence bordering the lot. There was no sign of Mick anywhere.
    Perhaps this was why God had sent Hank Larson to her this morning—the man appeared to be her only option.
    “I take it this is an emergency…” Hank paused, waiting for an answer.
    Finally she nodded. “It is. There’s a baby on the way. I need to be there to deliver it.”
    His brow furrowed something fierce. His gaze became harsh and cold.
    “You’re a…” He appeared to be having trouble saying the word.
    “Midwife.” She nodded. Then she watched him go as still as a stone.
     
    I should have known . Hank stared at Amelia. He’d heard she was an apothecary. He assumed people went to her to patch up minor scrapes and scratches.
    She is a midwife .
    But she wasn’t a bona fide physician.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    Apparently he couldn’t hide his disgust. “Nothing. We’d best get moving.”
    As they walked back up the street toward his office, he struggled with the bleak nightmare of a childbirth gone terribly wrong. The