Courting Betsy: The Ashmore Brothers, #3

By Judy Ann Davis

When Betsy Ashmore, adopted sister to a family of four brothers, discovers U.S. Marshal Luke Ashmore is lying wounded in a renegade Indian camp, she can't refuse to help a brother in peril—especially one she has loved all her life. With the help of a wily Ute Indian, the spunky shopkeeper saddles up to rescue him.

Marshal Luke Ashmore never expected to be bushwhacked while escorting the young boy of a murdered army scout northward to Fort Collins in the Colorado Territory. Outlaws want the boy and believe he knows the location of a hidden treasure.

As Betsy and Two Bears struggle to get the marshal and the child to safety, can they outwit the ruthless outlaws following them? And what will they do with two more orphaned boys they stumble upon along the trail?

Fall in love with the plucky shopkeeper and her three scheming youngsters—all determined to help the U.S. Marshal lasso her heart so they can become a family.

Finalist in the Best Book Awards. A sweet romantic western and mystery!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Judy Ann Davis
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9780999089699

Judy Ann Davis

Judy Ann Davis began her career in writing as a copy and continuity writer for radio and television in Scranton, PA. She holds a degree in Journalism and Communications from Point Park University in Pittsburgh, PA. Throughout her career, Davis has written for industry and education. Over a dozen of her short stories have appeared in various literary and small magazines, and anthologies, and have received numerous awards. UP ON THE ROOF AND OTHER SHORT STORIES, is a collection of nineteen of her short works. Her first novel, RED FOX WOMAN, published in 2010, is a western, mystery and romance and was a finalist in the International Book Awards and USA Book News Best Book Awards. KEY TO LOVE was her second fictional work, and UNDER STARRY SKIES was her third fictional work, a sequel to RED FOX WOMAN. Her novel, KEY TO LOVE, is a contemporary romantic suspense. Her latest novel, FOUR WHITE ROSE, is romantic suspense with a hint of paranormal and was a finalist in the Book Excellence Awards and Georgia Romance Writers' Maggie Awards. Her only novella,"Sweet Kiss," is part of the Candy Hearts Series. She is a member of Pennwriters, Inc. and Romance Writers of America, and divides her time between Central Pennsylvania and New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Visit her at: www.judyanndavis.com and www.judyanndavis.blogspot.com You can find her on Facebook: Judy Ann Davis and on Twitter: @JudyAnnDavis4

Book preview

Chapter One

Colorado Territory, Summer of 1876

Six feet up in the air, Betsy Ashmore sneezed and paused for a moment to wipe away the beads of sweat forming above her eyebrows. The worst job in cleaning the top shelves in the General Store of Golden City was precariously balancing for hours on the third rung of a ladder with a grimy cloth in one hand while the other pushed cumbersome merchandise aside. It had been months since anyone had tackled the high shelves where larger, rarely purchased merchandise such as coffee grinders, pitchers, wash basins, and tin canisters were stored.

But only fools or owners were crazy enough to clean during the hottest day in June, she decided, sneezing for a second time as she looked from her vantage point to observe the town through the store’s wide front window. Wagons, buggies, and carts clattered down Main Street and threw up billowing clouds of dust. An unrelenting summer sun drilled burning rays on the townsfolk scurrying to find a slice of shade under overhangs along the boardwalk. Even the town’s stray cats and dogs had vanished in search of shelter from the heat.

A gravelly male voice from below interrupted her musings. Are you the owner of this establishment, little lady? he bellowed.

Glancing down, Betsy spied an old-timer shading his eyes and peering up at her. Dressed in dirty buckskins and an even dirtier, flat-crowned felt hat, he appeared to be a trapper, prospector, buffalo hunter, or some sort of drifter. A long white beard covered his face and straggly gray hair fell over his ears. He was dusty, trail worn for sure, and in need of a bath.

Yes. Yes, I am, she said and exhaled an exhausted sigh. She set her cleaning cloth aside and climbed down the ladder. At the bottom, she paused momentarily to straighten her canvas apron with its many pockets.

You Betsy Ashmore? he asked.

Yes, sir. What can I do for you?

Folks call me Percy Spindle. He pulled out a piece of soiled paper folded into a small square and tied with flour sack string. He shoved it toward her. Brought this up from a Ute Indian camp just north of Colorado Springs. It was given to me by a U.S. Marshal who took some lead and is in bad shape.

Betsy stared at the square. Her heart thudded in her chest. Luke Ashmore? she asked.

Yep, said to give it to you.

She reached for a pair of scissors on a nearby barrel and cut the string. On the outside, she noticed the paper had been torn from the top of a wanted poster. On the back side, she read the note: Need an Ashmore. Travel supplies and horse. Fast. Wounded. Have youngster with me. –L

How can I be sure this is from my brother? Willing her hands not to tremble, she again examined the paper more closely, flipping it from one side to the other. It had been tied correctly. Her brothers and she had a secret way of tying notes if they needed to pass information to each other, yet needed to be sure the sender had not opened and read it. The string had to be knotted tight several times with the ends cut close to the knots so it could never be retied. An A was usually written somewhere on the outside. She flipped the note again and found the A in faint lettering in a corner.

Marshal said you’d be the most difficult one among the bunch to convince. Said you’d question the note. He told me to tell you he still has your copper hairpin for good luck. Oh, the one with a turquoise stone on it.

She smothered a gasp and felt her stomach clench tight. The hairpin she’d worn only once in her life. Luke had been barely eighteen when he decided to leave home and find work down in Texas. He had stopped to pick up some gear and to tell her good-bye. She had just started working at the General Store to help with the family costs. She had pulled the copper pin from her hair and handed it to him for good luck. It was the first gift she had purchased for herself with her pay.

Don’t fret. We’ll see each other again, he had said and hugged her tight. I’ll try to drop in to see you and the family when I’m passing through. I’ll send some money back to Pa when I can.

How badly is Marshal Ashmore injured? she asked, shaking herself back from reminiscing.

Shucks, miss, I’m no doctor. He was in pretty bad shape when I left. Flat on his back. Bullet in the shoulder and has a wounded side. Injured leg. He’s lying in Spotted Owl’s camp.

Spotted Owl? Alarm bells clanged in her head. Spotted Owl’s camp was one of the most dangerous renegade camps in the Territory. Anyone traveling south made it a point to give a wide berth around Spotted Owl’s territory. How did you manage to get out unharmed?

I trade with ’em. Furs for supplies.

I wouldn’t admit it too loudly around here. She didn’t try to hide the revulsive edge to her voice. Many ranchers in the area had lost stock to bold renegades on the prowl for cattle to eat and good horses to ride.

Red-faced, Percy flinched at her less than friendly tone. He shuffled his feet, removed his hat, and scratched his greasy head. Gotta make a living, miss.

Betsy pursed her lips while she tried to put some order to a dozen thoughts circling in her head. Flint, her oldest brother, was needed to run the ranch on Cherry Creek. Marcus, next in line, was down in Texas buying livestock. And Tydall, the logical one to go, the brother who had the most skills in speaking to and working with the local Indian camps, had a wife due to have their first child any day now. He’d be of no help either.

The Marshal said you’d set me up with supplies to get me up past Fort Collins if I delivered the note. The old fur trader squinted at her and nervously shuffled his feet.

She nodded, raised an arm, and signaled to her young assistant, Louise O’Sullivan, behind the front counter.

When she approached, Betsy spoke. Please get this gentleman any supplies he might need for a trip north at no charge. Make a list for us to replace the goods.

She turned to Percy and held out her hand, undaunted by the appearance or rank smell of the grimy man. I thank you for delivering the note. I wish you safe travels on your journey. She paused. One more thing. Who is this youngster?

Don’t rightly know. He rubbed his beard in thoughtful contemplation. A boy. Ragged-looking little devil.

How old?

I’m guessing the lad might be about eight or nine years old. Can’t rightly tell. Thought maybe he’s the Marshal’s son. Maybe an orphan child. A self-conscious expression flitted across his face as he looked at his own dirty hands, and then stared at her clean one still outstretched. He shook it gently before turning to lumber up the aisle to the front of the store. I hope it all works out for you, Miss Ashmore. And I thank you kindly for the supplies.

Her head spinning, Betsy stood there, note in hand, hugging herself as she watched the fur trader disappear up the aisle. A son? Could Luke have a son? Had he found someone in his many journeys throughout the Territory? Surely he would have sent word to one of them if he had married. He had recently turned thirty-two. It seemed logical he might want to finally settle down. But then, everyone in the whole town of Golden City thought it was time for her to do the same, now since she was approaching the ripe old age of thirty. Some customers had gone so far as to hint she was past marriageable age and had fallen into old maid status. If the truth were told, she had not found anyone she wanted to spend a lifetime with unless it was Luke Ashmore, the third oldest son of the Ashmore family. She was not of Ashmore blood. Tom Ashmore and his wife had taken her in when they found her as an infant, tucked in a basket, abandoned in their stables next to their mules. Rebecca had been delighted to welcome a girl among four sons.

Over the last fourteen years, she and Luke had tried to avoid each other. He had left home at eighteen to strike out on his own. On those rare occasions when they now met, there had been a thread pulling them toward each other, although both would vehemently deny it if questioned.

Of all her brothers, Luke had always been the fastest one with a gun. She was only fourteen and living in Virginia when a group of men had come to the house, insisting Tom Ashmore enlist his three eldest sons in the Confederate cause. A fight had erupted and someone pulled a gun. Rebecca Ashmore stepped in front of her husband and took the bullet meant for him. Stunned, Betsy had watched Luke, barely sixteen years old, take three men down single-handedly through a haze of smoke. Her other brothers, Flint and Marcus, cut down the remaining two. That very evening, the woman she had come to love as her mother was buried and the wagons loaded. Tom Ashmore vowed none of his sons would fight and die in a war he had no interest in.

Regaining her senses, Betsy turned her thoughts back to the note. She called out to Louise at the counter where she was collecting supplies, scribbling a list on a piece of wrapping paper. I’m going to the stables and then to the blacksmith shop to find my brothers, she said. Once I round them up, we’ll be in the store’s back kitchen if you need anything.

With an icy fear twisting itself around her heart, she untied her apron, tossed it on a nearby stack of empty crates, and hurried out the door.

Chapter Two

Betsy, Flint, and Tye Ashmore sat at the kitchen table in the living quarters where she had built behind the General Store for the days when she spent long hours working there. She still kept the living area at the store clean and useable. Louise occasionally stayed there instead of driving to her family’s farm outside town when the winter weather was bad.

She now lived in an imposing Victorian house, located at the edge of town, built from the inheritance and sale of her birth mother’s estate in Georgia—a mother she never knew. Gretchen Adams, young, pregnant, and widowed, was forced to abandon Betsy in Virginia. Later, after marrying a Confederate officer and settling in the South, she was unable to travel North because of the War. It would have been fruitless. The Ashmore family had left Virginia for the West at the beginning of it. 

Flint examined the note Betsy handed him before shoving it across the table to his brother. What do you think? he asked.

Tye scrutinized it, shook his head, and inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It looks like U.S. Marshal Luke Ashmore has himself a sack of troubles.

Betsy removed a pot of coffee from the stove and filled a cup for each of them before taking a seat. She crossed her hands on the table and willed herself to remain deceptively composed. Her gaze darted from Flint, the oldest, to Tye, the youngest and same age as her. There’s only one of us who can go, and it has to be me.

Are you loco? Flint’s head snapped around. He glared at her.

I’m the logical one. You’re needed to run the ranch with Marcus still down in Texas. Tye’s wife is close to having her baby any day now. I’m the one who can easily get away. Louise is more than capable of running the store while I’m gone.

It’s over eighty miles of hard riding through Indian Territory, I should remind you. Flint’s eyes narrowed. His face hardened. Arapaho. Cheyenne. Ute. And none of the tribes are too happy at the moment.

Ignoring Flint’s rapid-fire observations, she squinted at the note again and asked, What do you think Luke means by fast? Does he want a fast horse or for one of us to get there as quickly as possible?

Tye leaned back in his chair. Probably both.

Flint took a sip of coffee, almost slamming the cup on the table. His curt voice lashed out at her again. Well, you’re not going, Betsy, and that’s final.

Whoa. Whoa. Wrong thing to say, big brother. Tye leaned forward. "Actually, after me, she is the logical one to go. She knows how to sign better than all of us. She’s small and light in the saddle and knows how to ride as well as any of us. Heck, Flint, if she can sweet talk a customer in the store into buying something he doesn’t need, she’s the perfect one to talk Luke and the kid out of an Indian camp."

Tydall, you’re not helping the situation.

And she can handle a weapon.

Did you hear me? You’re not helping. Flint fired the words out like bullets.

Betsy slapped her hand on the table. The loud whack split the air and everyone flinched and gawked at her. Enough!  You’re acting like blithering idiots. I’ve had enough from both of you, she sputtered. I’m sitting right here. I already said I’m going. Bristling with indignation, she stood. Now the least you could do is help me get ready. Tell me what I need to do, what I need to know. What supplies should I take?

A faint knock on the back door drew their attention.

Betsy ignored the rap and focused on her brothers. As long as they were already disgruntled, why not just throw caution and to the winds and give them something more to stew about and chew on?  She forced out an indulgent warm smile. I sent for Two Bears, she said. I need you to help me convince him to take me to Luke. He knows every shortcut and backwoods trail to Colorado Springs.

She waved at them to get up from the table. There is no more discussion. Get up. Go, go. Two Bears prefers to stay outside, out of sight, near the woods. I’ll get him a cup of coffee and something to eat. He loves Anna’s donuts.

His mouth still set in annoyance, Flint shoved himself away from the table and sputtered, Now your foolish mind has taken a leap clear over the cliff of stupidity. You want to ride two days with a fool Indian? Hells bells, I wouldn’t go two miles with that renegade.

She waved again at the door and turned to Tye. Please be the reasonable one. Go out and talk to him while I make a plate of food. She whipped around and shook a finger at Flint. And you...you let me handle Two Bears. You hear me?

Minutes later, Two Bears stared suspiciously at her when she appeared and placed a tray complete with a plate of stew, a sack of donuts, a cup of coffee, and a napkin and spoon on the stone bench where he sat, farther back in the yard near the forest. Flint and Tye hovered nearby.

Tall and lean, Two Bears was shirtless except for a dirty leather vest he always wore with his buckskin pants and knee-high moccasins. The many scars on his chest from tangling with two grizzly bears many years ago shone white in the sunlight. A single rawhide strap tied his black hair together in a tail falling down his back. He eyed the food with a hungry, but guarded reluctance.

Here, eat, Two Bears. Betsy said. Heavens, you look troubled.

Two Bears always has worry in his eyes and head when he is surrounded by this many Ashmores. His dark-eyed gaze swept upward to meet hers, a chilly distrust still clouding his stern face.

Tye plopped down in the grass. Come. Sit down and eat, he said. "By now you should know whenever you see an Ashmore woman—"

—there is much trouble to be had. The Ute nodded. This is so.  He took the tray and slumped down beside Tye on the grass. He glanced up at Betsy again. Is it not so?

She dropped down onto the vacant bench. I need to get down to Spotted Owl’s camp somewhere around Colorado Springs as fast as possible.

Colorado Springs? His forehead wrinkled.

Tava. Sun Mountain.

Ahhh. Sun Mountain. What is in Sun Mountain?

Luke Ashmore is somewhere around there. He’s injured and has a small boy with him.

The Marshal?

She nodded.

It will not be an easy task.

And why I need your help.

Two Bears dug into the stew, eating with his hands, ignoring the spoon she provided.

Can you take me or tell me how best to do it? she asked with quiet, but desperate, firmness. Do you know Spotted Owl?

Two Bears’s head bobbed. He is a very strong leader—a very old and sometimes angry chief. He does not like the white man but has a granddaughter half white. He is very protective of her. He scooped up another handful of food into with his hand. Luke Ashmore is lucky, he muttered through a mouthful. The Ashmore name is known throughout the territory by many tribes. He paused and swallowed. His somber dark eyes bored into her. Or he would be dead by now.

Flint spoke up. Tell her, Two Bears. Tell her this is a dangerous thing she’s trying to do. She gets a crazy notion in her head and won’t let it go. I don’t know what in blazes is wrong with her.

Two Bears finished the stew, swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and then wiped both of his hands on the grass instead of on the napkin. He peered up at Flint leaning against a tree. It is an honorable thing she wants to do. You, Flint Ashmore, saved my life once.

Yeah, and maybe it was a mistake, Flint muttered under his breath. He threw a sour glance toward his sister.

Two Bears smirked. He opened the sack of donuts and peered inside. A smile curved his lips as he withdrew one.

Two Bears, please, Betsy pleaded. Just tell me what I have to do. I want to get there as soon as possible. As fast as possible. Straight like the crow flies. I know you know the best trails from here clear to Texas.

I will take you. His voice was firm and smooth. If we leave tonight, we can make it in two days. Hard riding. Very hard riding.

We need to take supplies. We can’t move fast.

No supplies, Bet-see.

I’ll need medical supplies and goods to give to Spotted Owl.

We take two horses each. Do not load them down. We need them fresh to ride.

Disheartened, she hung her head as a sense of desolation swept over her. It won’t work. I’ll need medicine and bandages if Luke is hurt badly.

Grim-faced, Tye squinted up at her and spoke. But it can work, Bets. Brett Trumble is down in Colorado Springs buying machinery for his lumber mill. He owes me a favor. I’ll wire him today to have your store manager in Colorado Springs help him collect the supplies you’ll need. They can have them ready when you reach the outskirts of town. We’ll figure out a meeting place.

She leaned forward, toward Two Bears, and asked, Will you still take me?

Yes. He gulped down his coffee, set the cup aside, and rolled to his feet grabbing the sack of donuts in his fist. His unsmiling face was as grim and formidable as he was known to be. One more thing, Bet-see Ashmore. You go as my wife. You listen to what I say. Always.

Two Bears, no! She sprang to her feet. Her eyes shone stormy blue. No. No way am I pretending to be your wife.

When we get near Indian camp, we enter. I then tell the chief you are Luke Ashmore’s sister.

Why? Why do I have to pretend to be your wife? She flung out her arms up in annoyance. They fell with a thump to her sides.

Tye rose. Because a lone woman out in the wilderness is not safe if she doesn’t belong to someone. Calm down. It’s a sound plan. It might work.

She stood there and gazed in amazement at all three of them before her mouth turned downward into an exasperated grimace. And you all have the audacity to tell me my twisted logic defies the most rational thinking known to mankind? she asked through a sputter.

You... Two Bears paused ...are a beautiful woman and have hair the color of honey made by the bees. You are very valuable. To a lot of men. His piercing gaze never left hers for an instant. You will be safe with me. But you must trust me. Speak little if we meet my people or strangers. Do as I say.

Flint pushed himself away from the tree. Well, this ought to be interesting. Silence and taking orders from anyone isn’t my sister’s strong suit.

A smile threatened to surface on Two Bears’s face as if he itched to agree. Instead, he turned to go, then stopped midstride and turned back. His voice was softer as he spoke to her. We leave today, just as the sun sets. We will ride only by the light from the moon. I bring two horses. He gave a quick glance at Tye. Get her the best horses you have. Fast. Trail ready. She needs a saddle for each. We stop only to dismount, change horses, and ride again.

Without waiting for a reply, he slipped quietly into the forest.

Chapter Three

The sun splashed shades of pink, lavender, and blue into the summer sky overhead as it slipped behind the horizon. The trees and bushes along the road outside town hung limp from the day’s blistering heat. Tye and Betsy stood along the road leading out of town and waited to meet Two Bears.

It’s not going to be easy, Tye said. He rested a hand on the saddle of one of her horses and the other on her back where her hair was fashioned into one long braid. He tugged on it playfully. I don’t know how Luke got himself into such a pickle.

Betsy frowned. Neither do I, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get him out. She removed her buckskin jacket and tied it on the back of her saddle, and then slipped on a soft leather vest, straightening her white cotton shirt underneath it. Denim trousers, recently added to the men’s section of the General Store, swamped her slight frame making