A Single Dad Asked for a Job… She Said, ‘I Want a Daughter.’ What Happened Next Left Him in Shock.

Chapter 8

“Yes,” I told Clara over breakfast. “I’ll marry you.”

May squealed with delight, jumping up from her chair to hug us both.

Clara nodded once, her expression unreadable. “Good. I’ll speak to the preacher next time we’re in town.”

But three days later, everything changed.

I was working on the south pasture fence when I heard horses. A lot of them. I looked up to see six riders approaching the ranch house, the sheriff at the front.

My stomach dropped.

I walked back toward the house, my heart pounding. Clara was already on the porch, May behind her skirts.

The sheriff pulled his horse to a stop, looking down at us with cold eyes.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Higgins.”

“Sheriff. What can I do for you?”

“Looking for Silas Thorne.”

“Why?”

“Got a telegram from Nebraska. Seems there’s a man fitting his description wanted for theft. Horse and a bag of gold, taken from a farm outside Lincoln.”

“That’s not possible,” I said, stepping forward. “I never stole anything in my life.”

The sheriff’s hand moved to his gun. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. You’re going to have to come with me until we sort this out.”

“No!” May screamed, running forward. Clara caught her, held her back.

“This is a mistake,” Clara said, her voice hard. “Silas has been here for months. Working my land. He hasn’t been anywhere near Nebraska.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ve got a legal obligation to bring him in until the circuit judge can verify his story.”

I looked at Clara, at May crying in her arms, and felt rage and despair in equal measure. After everything—after walking three hundred miles, after finding safety, after agreeing to build a life here—this was how it ended?

“I’ll go,” I said quietly. “Don’t fight them, Clara. I’ll go and we’ll sort this out.”

“Silas—”

“Take care of May.” I looked at my daughter, memorizing her face. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

The sheriff dismounted and pulled my arms behind my back, binding my wrists with rough rope. He hauled me onto a horse and we rode toward town, leaving Clara and May standing in the yard.

The jail was a small stone building, damp and cold. They threw me into a cell and locked the door.

I sat on the narrow bench and put my head in my hands.

After all that. After everything. Was this really how it would end?