In the Sheriff's Protection Page 19
Rollie, staring at several broken plates, said, “I was just trying to get a cup.” Looking up, he shook his head. “I ran this place by myself before Sadie came along, but I’m all thumbs this morning. Can’t seem to do anything.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Austin,” she said, unbuttoning her cuffs. “Billy and I are here to help.” She plucked an apron off a hook and slipped it over her head while snagging a cloth to grasp the handle of the coffeepot that was boiling over on the stove. “How is Sadie this morning? And the baby?”
“I need to go check on them,” he said. “They were both sleeping when I left them, but that was more than half an hour ago.”
“Then go check on them.” She rolled her sleeves out of the way and tied the apron strings behind her back. “Billy and I will see the judge gets his breakfast.”
Rollie’s stare at the door was full of longing. “But I need to make three meals for the sheriff, too, and my helpers won’t arrive for another hour or more.”
“Billy and I can handle four meals.” She glanced at her son. “Can’t we?”
“Yes!”
She smiled at him, all the while knowing Tom’s talk had given her son a desire to be helpful, be a good friend. “Go on now, Mr. Austin, and do let me know if Sadie needs anything.”
His face lit up. “Oh, Mrs. Wilson, you are a godsend. A pure godsend.”
“I’m just glad to help, but could I ask a favor?”
He was on his way to the door. “You name it!”
It was silly, but it was her first step in changing who she was. “Could you call me Clara, please? I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“And I’d be honored, Clara.”
She nodded and waved the cup she’d taken off the shelf toward the door. “Wonderful. Now go see to your wife and daughter.”
The door swung on its hinges from his hurried departure. After filling two cups, she handed them to Billy. “Be careful, these are very hot, but carry them out to Tom and Judge Alfords.”
“I’ll be careful, Ma,” he said, taking a cup in each hand. “And I won’t spill a drop.”
She opened the door and waited until he was well clear of it before letting it swing shut. Turning about, she surveyed the room, taking in the supplies and cooking utensils. Including the broken plates on the floor. First things first. She gathered three pans and set them on the stove to start warming, and then picked up a broom.
When the door opened, she said, “Grab that dustpan near the back door and bring it here.”
The pan appeared near the pile she’d swept up, but the hand holding it wasn’t Billy’s.
Tom looked up. “I’m here to help.”
With one sweep, she filled the pan and then bent down and clutched the handle in front of his hand. Eyeing him directly, she said, “No, you aren’t.” Pulling the dustpan from his grasp, she stood. “Don’t argue with me, Tom. You, Judge Alfords, this entire town has already done more for me than anyone in my entire life.” She crossed the room, dumped the pan in a rubbish pail, and set it and the broom aside. Turning about, she pointed around the room. “This I can do. Cooking a few meals is the least I can do.”
His gaze locked on her, and the silence echoed in her ears, but she stood her ground.
Then, with a wide smile, he winked. “All right. I’ve missed your cooking.”
Happiness exploded inside her so fast her cheeks burned. “Then go sit down. It’ll be done shortly.”
She sliced off several pieces of ham, and while they were warming, mixed up batter for pancakes and greased a skillet to fry the eggs. She also filled a bowl with butter and a small pitcher with syrup, and had Billy carry them out to the other room.
He was as excited as her, and she kept him busy with other small jobs, carrying knives, forks and spoons, salt and pepper, and a bowl of sugar, out to Tom and the judge.
It was as if the world wanted everything to go right for her because by the time she’d loaded plates with ham and eggs, and others with pancakes, Rollie returned.
“Sadie and the baby are doing fine,” he said. “Just fine.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’m so glad.” She nodded toward the tray on the table in the center of the room. “I have tea and scrambled eggs ready for Sadie. You can deliver that to her while Billy and I take these to the judge and sheriff. Once Tom’s done eating, I’ll have plates ready for him to take to the jail.”
“How will I ever thank you?” Rollie asked.
“We’ll talk about that later.” Her mind had been laying out a plan all the while she’d been cooking. A solid plan that made her feel good about herself. Her abilities. And her future. “Right now, you need to go eat breakfast with your wife. I made enough for you, too. And we have to carry these out to the dining room.”
Chapter Fifteen
If he’d had a choice, Tom would have taken more time to say goodbye to Clara, but the train was due and Chester deserved his meal to be hot upon delivery. About the same time he and Judge Alfords had swallowed the last bites of their tasty breakfast, she’d arrived at the table with two baskets, stating the larger one was for Chester and the smaller one, for the prisoner.
Alfords had thanked her for the meal and as he’d left the table, said he’d be at the sheriff’s office shortly. Tom had waited for a moment alone with her, but as Alfords had walked out of the dining room, Josiah and Angus had entered. So had Miss Bella Armentrout.
While Josiah had started talking, saying now that the fiasco was over, everything could get back to normal, Angus, always observant, had figured out Clara was cooking this morning. Upon hearing that, Miss Armentrout stated she wasn’t much of a cook, but certainly knew how to wash dishes, and started clearing the table. Tom was happy to see that Clara would have help this morning. He was also glad to know Angus would keep a close eye on her. Just as he had since she’d arrived.
Tom picked up both the baskets and thanked her.
“You’re very welcome,” she said, and then walked around the table, stopping near him. “You will remember which basket is which?”
If he was a suspicious man, he might have questioned why, but there was no need with her. “Yes, I will.”
She nodded, but then a hint of worry filled her eyes. “And you will be careful?”
“Yes.” There were too many around to say much more. Not exactly certain what more he would say if they were alone, he merely said, “And you remember that Chester can help with anything you need.”
“I will.” Her smile was back, and brighter than he’d seen before. “See you in three days.”
“You can count on it,” he replied, and then because he had to, he headed for the door.
The spring in his step felt good, but knowing she’d put it there concerned him. Hugh had been convicted, would soon take up permanent residence at Leavenworth. That had the potential to change her life, and would, but it wouldn’t change his. Despite all the happiness that kept flaring inside him, he had to remember who he was. What he was.
Walking into his office was a clear reminder of that. Wesley Riggs was there, the sheriff from the Carlyle area southwest of Oak Grove, along with a couple other men wearing deputy badges. There were also two wild-eyed men in the other cell beside Hugh’s. No matter how many were caught, there were always more men out there set on breaking the law.
“Hey, Tom.” Short, with dust from traveling turning his brown hair several shades of gray, Wesley gestured toward the cell. “Been chasing these two for over a week now. Cattle rustlers.” Wesley then gestured toward Hugh. “Hear that’s the train robber you went after.” With a nod toward him, Wesley asked, “He do that to you?”
There was no need to look down, at the star on his chest that still held Hugh’s bullet. He’d ordered a new one, but it hadn’t come in yet. Tom set the baskets on his desk. “Where are the rest of them?” Seasoned, he knew it t
ook more than two men to rustle cattle.
“Already got their due,” Wesley said. “If there’s anything left of them, we’ll pick up the carcasses on the way back home. Need to let our horses rest up for a day. Caught these two after dark and rode the rest of the night to get here.” He nodded toward the men in the cell. “The short one’s bat-shit crazy. And quick. Already dodged three of my bullets.” With a glance at the bullet-centered star, Wesley said, “I’d have killed any man who’d done that to me.”
Reality struck Tom. That was the reason he’d become a lawman, and remained one. If all lawmen were as quick to kill as the outlaws, this country would never be tamed. The law proclaimed justice, and that was what he worked toward, and why. Carlyle was a small settlement with more saloons than houses, and would remain that way as long as Riggs was in charge.
“Hear Alfords is in town,” Riggs said. “Good thing. I can let him know we need him over in Carlyle.”
Tom gestured for Chester to come get the food baskets while he walked around his desk. “Alfords is heading to Leavenworth with me today.”
“Hear that, too,” Riggs said, while glancing at the cells. “Don’t mind waiting a week or more. Give these fellas time to contemplate their future.” As Chester took the checkered cloth off the top of one basket, Riggs said, “My boys and I will head over to the hotel for some grub, then grab some shut-eye.”
“You can come back here to sleep,” Tom said, with a glance toward Chester that conveyed an order to see that happened. He didn’t want Riggs and the others anywhere near Clara, or even wandering around town. “My house is out back. You can use it.”
“Appreciate that,” Riggs said, walking toward the door with his deputies following.
The train whistle bellowed as Riggs opened the door.
Under its shrill, Chester said, “I’ll send Brett to the hotel if they aren’t back by the time the train leaves.”
Tom nodded. That was why Oak Grove was prospering. Because the entire town knew what it took to make peace, and keep it.
“Why are there two baskets?”
In answer to Chester’s question, Tom pointed toward Hugh. “The little one’s for him.”
Chester had already unloaded the bigger basket containing a platter of eggs, ham and pancakes, along with containers of butter and syrup, and Tom didn’t even try to hide the grin that formed as Chester took the cloth off the second basket. There was nothing but a plate with two pancakes, somewhat on the burnt side.
Clearly remembering how Hugh had tossed pancakes on the floor back at her house, Tom accepted the small amount of triumph Clara deserved at preparing this final meal for Hugh. He picked up the plate of pancakes and walked over to slide it through the bars. “Eat up, Wilson. We’ll be heading out in five minutes.”
“What’s this slop?” Hugh said, staring at the plate. “They’re burnt, and I hate pancakes.” He shoved the plate back through the bars. “I have a right to a decent meal. One like his.”
Tom smiled at how Chester was making a show of sticking a thick chunk of ham into his mouth. “No, you don’t,” Tom said. “You lost all your rights the minute you were convicted. Eat what you have or not. That’s your choice.”
“I’ll eat it, if you don’t want it,” one of the other prisoners said.
“Me, too,” the other piped in.
Turning his back to them, Hugh asked, “Do I at least get a fork?”
Chester glanced into the basket and shrugged. “Guess not.”
* * *
Busy, but enjoying every moment, Clara found the hours went by swiftly, yet, somehow, the days didn’t. Every time she thought about Tom, which was continuously, disappointment that it was still days before he’d return filled Clara. The nights were even longer. As she lay in bed, there was nothing to take her attention off her thoughts.
With Sadie recovering, and Rollie wanting to be at her side, he’d offered room and board and wages to her and Billy. Even though it was only pennies, Billy was as proud of his earnings as she was of hers. It felt good to know she was legitimately earning what she was receiving. That it was in no way connected to Hugh. She tried not to think about him. Wanted to just forget everything about her past. But unlike so many things she’d buried deep in the past, this time things wouldn’t stay hidden. They kept popping up like weeds in a garden.
“We don’t ever have to leave, do we, Ma?”
She was afraid her tossing and turning had also been keeping Billy awake.
“I don’t want to,” he said. “I like living here. I like my friends. I like Angus, and Mr. Austin, and Brett, and, well, a whole bunch of people. Mr. Chadwick paid us boys a penny each to sweep out the jail cells now that those outlaws are all gone. And Mr. Gallagher gave us each an extra licorice stick ’cause we were so well behaved while spending our pennies at the mercantile.”
“You told me that.” Even as she smiled, she had to warn him, “And you remember what I said, don’t you?”
“Yeah, that I can’t spend all my money on candy.”
“That’s right.”
His sigh was filled with contentment rather than exasperation. “I won’t. Wanna know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I wanna show it to Tom. I bet he’ll be proud of me. And happy that we swept out the cells. That’s what Mr. Chadwick said, and I believe him. You believe him, too, don’t you, Ma?”
Even with all the uncertainty filling her, she was confident about a few things. “Yes, I do. Tom will be proud of you.”
“He’ll be proud that I did what he said, too. I told my friends that Pa had robbed that train, but that he wouldn’t ever do that again ’cause Tom and me and you were the good guys and he was the bad guy. That’s when I told them we’re going to live here, forever and ever. I wasn’t lying, Ma.” After a quiet moment, he asked, “Was I? We don’t have to go back to Uncle Walter’s house, do we?”
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t figure out a way to answer that.
“I’m sure the Ryans are taking good care of Nellie and Bess,” Billy said. “Those cows probably already made friends with the Ryans’ cows. And Mr. Ryan said he’d go fetch the chickens, so we ain’t got nothing to worry about. Do we?”
Wanting him to never have to worry, she said, “I’m sure Nellie and Bess are fine, as well as the chickens.” With her own conscience twisting inside her, she said, “But we did say we’d be back for them.”
“Couldn’t we write them a letter? Tell them we like it here?”
“That was our home for a long time. Won’t you miss it?”
“Heck, no. There was nothing to do there. No one to play with.”
Clara could relate to how he compared Uncle Walter’s homestead to Oak Grove. She held many of the same opinions. Although she’d called it home, it had felt more like a prison.
“We don’t have to worry about strangers here, Ma.” There was a tremble in his voice. “You remember them, don’t you? The ones who rode with—”
“Hush, now,” she said, wrapping both arms around him. “You’re right—we don’t have to worry about strangers.” While hugging Billy close, trying to ease his fears, her own filled her with the speed and fury of a flash flood. Her being here, in this quaint, peaceful little town, could cause more destruction than the river had this spring. Everyone still talked about how the river had flooded a few months ago and how the town had come together, under Tom’s guidance, to keep everyone safe.
His bullet-centered badge appeared before her eyes, and she pulled her eyelids open, hoping to chase the image away, but it wouldn’t leave. That badge may not be enough to protect him from another bullet shot his way because of her. Hugh had never worked alone. There had always been others, and as soon as they learned what had happened, they’d come looking for her. Their revenge would include Tom. That scared her like nothing ever had.
Over the next couple of days, the fear inside her grew like a snowball rolling down a hill. She kept it hidden, but that didn’t stop it from becoming so large it consumed her, while awake and sleeping. The nightmares were the worst. Those of Tom gunned down and the entire town blaming her, rightfully so. And blaming Billy.
That nearly gutted her.
She pretended it didn’t. Kept a smile on her face and went about as if she was the happiest person on earth, cooking and cleaning at the hotel, making friends, even attending a quilting club meeting with Fiona Blackwell.
That was where she was, midafternoon on a sunny day, when the train whistle sounded and shortly afterward, Billy burst into Martha’s dress shop, along with Fiona’s boys, Rollie’s two sons and Dr. Graham’s son, around the same age as the others.
“Sheriff Baniff’s back!” Kade yelled.
“He sure enough is, Ma,” Billy exclaimed. “Tom’s back. Saw him with my own eyes!”
Trying to conceal her face from glowing as brightly as Billy’s, or turning red from his casual use of Tom’s first name, Clara said, “That’s nice.” Then, knowing she’d never be able to sew a single stitch with her trembling hands, she added, “I suspect I should go see if there are any passengers needing something to eat.”
“I’ll be along shortly to help with the dishes,” Bella said. “I’m almost finished with this block.”
The club was sewing a quilt for the young bride who’d been shot. She’d agreed to marry Jules Carmichael and the wedding was set for next Saturday. Julia had just announced her decision last night. However, the quilting club was almost done with the quilt because they’d known Julia would decide on one of the many men hoping for her hand in marriage. Clara hadn’t realized how many bachelors lived in and around Oak Grove until she’d started cooking at the hotel and feeding most of them.
“No hurry,” she said to Bella. The boys had already left the shop and her feet were itching to move just as fast as theirs had. “I can manage.”