by Linda Ellen
“Unless something happens to make me want to stay here in Brownville.”
Chapter 4
“A nd that’s about the time my sister came around the corner,” Pauline finished the retelling of the incident to Elvira Fetterman.
“Oh, my stars!” gushed the animated matron of the Fetterman mansion. “And you heard the whole thing? Gracious! I would have been so scared he’d catch me I’d probably have turned tail and run back down that hall! Oh, my word, I knew that man was up to something. I didn’t like his looks the first time I laid eyes on him, that day that he came to call on Mr. Simmons when Mrs. Simmons and I were having tea in her parlor. Mr. Simmons had just stepped out to check on the children. All of mine and several of theirs were playing together in the playroom of their house—it’s so nice, and just packed full of toys for the kids. I keep telling Lloyd we should get one of those roundy-round things for our boys like they have. Ours do have two rooms full of toys, that’s true, but I just can’t resist when I see something that I think one of my children would like, why I just have to order one!” she gave a quick laugh. “Lloyd fusses, but he always gives in. He’s such a sweetheart. So, where was I? Oh, so in walked that Mr. Barrow and I took one look at him and said after he left that I just didn’t trust him at all. Shifty eyes. That’s what I told Mrs. Simmons and she agreed with me, but husbands, they don’t want to listen to us wives. It’s always been that way. Why Lloyd—”
“Mrs. Fetterman,” Pearl interrupted when Elvira took a breath, causing the loquacious woman to blink and stutter to a stop. “Excuse me,” Pearl added carefully. “But, what do you think Mr. Fetterman would advise? Should Pauline try and talk to Mr. Simmons about this, or—”
“Oh no, Lloyd will take care of it,” Elvira dismissed the thought with a flutter of one beringed hand. “Don’t you worry about it one bit. My Lloyd knows how to handle these things. He has businessmen coming and going all the time. Lloyd is such a wonderful man. I’m so blessed to have him for a husband. He’s such a good businessman, too. Why just the other day—”
“Vi,” a masculine voice urged from the doorway of the parlor where Elvira had invited Pearl and Pauline to discuss the problem.
At the sound of her husband’s firm voice that seemed to hold just a touch of gentle rebuke, Elvira actually clapped a hand over her mouth, turned in her chair and met his bold brown eyes. Emitting a giggle behind her hand, she lowered it a bit and murmured, “Oh my…I was doing it again, wasn’t I.”
Pauline watched as he chuckled and walked into the room, coming to stand next to his wife’s chair. Placing a loving hand on her shoulder, he momentarily acknowledged Pauline and her mother before returning his attention to his wife. Addressing Pearl, he lifted his wife’s hand and looked into her eyes while pressing his lips to her fingers.
“Now, Pearl, why don’t you tell me a shortened version of whatever has my lovely wife in such a state of verbosity?”
Pauline stifled a laugh, but admired the way the man handled his effervescent wife. Gracious, but that woman can talk. Why…it’s like someone touched a flame to a thousand Fourth of July sparklers at once with no way to stop the eruption.
Pearl deferred to her daughter and Pauline repeated her story, all the while, noting the serious expression on the face of the man who employed her mother.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Charles is a close friend and I would hate for him to be swindled by this man. He’s obviously a professional con man.”
“Mr. Fetterman, I feel terrible for my part in this deception. I had no idea—” Pauline immediately apologized, but he waved her apology away with a polite smile.
“You had no way of knowing. But as my wife said, you just leave it to me. I’ll take care of it. And we’ll set the law on this man so that he can’t continue his nefarious ways.”
That eased Pauline’s heart, and she was immensely grateful that she had decided to ask for help.
Monday had been quiet.
Pauline spent the day with her student, seven-year-old Frederick Simmons, and they’d had a pleasant time as he had practiced his printing skills. Once his daily fatigue had set in, however, she had settled him on the duvet, covered him with a throw, and read aloud from a new book his father had purchased for him, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Before she had reached the bottom of the first page, the boy had become enthralled with the story set in faraway Nottingham, England that featured a cast of colorful characters—the evil sheriff, the notorious outlaw himself, Robin, Little John, and all the rest of his merry men. Pauline had never seen the boy so interested and she had to admit, the novel held her interest easily as well.
When it was time to go, Mr. and Mrs. Simmons had called Pauline into the parlor room of their hotel suite and proceeded to thank her for alerting Lloyd Fetterman to Harold Barrow’s plot.
Although she was embarrassed for her part, their words brought much comfort. They assured her that the scoundrel in question would be apprehended, and they would press to see justice done for his victims.
Ever the vigilant brother, Dwight had been hovering outside the hotel’s entrance in order to take Pauline straight over to the Rufer Hotel to pick up their sister. As they were early, the siblings sat together in the hotel’s dining room and sipped coffee while waiting for their sister’s shift to end. During the time, Pauline filled DJ in on everything that the Simmons’ had said.
After a while, Dwight mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” as he excused himself to take care of necessary business, leaving Pauline alone for a bit.
Less than a minute later, a shadow fell over the table and she looked up thinking to see her brother’s face, but instead, found the black obsidian eyes of Harold Barrow. A chill of fright swept down her body as she tried to stifle a gasp.
“Hello, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a quiet, deep sinister hum.
Pauline swallowed nervously and cast her gaze around the large room, seeking help. But she and Dwight had chosen a table in the back corner and, suffice it to say, there were very few diners—and those were across the room. Dwight was nowhere in sight, nor was their waiter who had filled up their cups just a minute before.
Harold smoothly lowered himself down into the seat Dwight had vacated and reached for one of Pauline’s hands, gripping it overly firm. She tried to pull away, but he squeezed tighter until she couldn’t help but wince.
“Now, my dear Pauline, that’s no way to act with your future husband,” he murmured, causing chill bumps to crinkle like fireworks along her skin. “I’ve missed you. Where have you been keeping yourself? We should be planning our nuptials, don’t you think?”
Pauline tried again to extract her hand, but it was no good. Finally, she steeled herself to look into those eyes that could give anyone nightmares, and took a bolstering breath. “Mr. Barrow, I did not give you an answer to your proposal, but I’ll give it to you now. The answer is no. Now, kindly release my hand.”
The cad had the audacity to merely curl his lips in a fake smile. “Ahh, but Pauline, you don’t understand. You see—you caused me considerable aggravation and not a small amount of lost revenue by telling your employer what you…overheard.” He shook his head. “Tsk tsk. That was a private conversation, my sweet. You had no right to repeat any of it. Now,” he paused as a man and woman passed within ten feet of them on their way out, “Now, the man has set the law on me, and has stated he will alert the police departments in other cities along the river to warn them of my…shall we say…particular talents?” After a tense pause, his eyes narrowed and he muttered, “You cheated me out of a small fortune. Therefore, you owe me. Something valuable—that you can only give a man once.”
Pauline’s eyes widened in shock and she sputtered, “Th…that’s out of the question! My answer is NO, Mr. Barrow. Let me go!” She added as she tugged against his grip.
He leaned closer, and Pauline had to hold her breath against the stench of cigar and whiskey. “I think you need time to reconsider,
my love. I’ll give you twenty-four hours. Then I’ll seek you out and take you with me, by force if I have to. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me.” His eyes flared as he briefly focused on something over her shoulder before hissing, “Remember—you owe me.”
She shut her eyes in revulsion for just a moment and when she opened them, he was gone.
Seconds later, Livvy appeared at her elbow.
“I’m here, sis. You ready to go?” In just seconds, Livvy gasped at the pallor in her sister’s face, “Pebs! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“It…it was…” Pauline stammered, tears coming to her eyes over the fright the man had given her.
Suddenly, she had no doubt that he would do just what he said—and that somehow, he would find a way to get what he wanted and no one would be able to stop him. As he had hinted, she had woefully underestimated the extent of his threat to her person.
Dwight joined them, and after gleaning what had occurred, conducting a quick search of the halls, and engaging the hotel manager to check Barrow’s room, of which he had already checked out, they had no recourse but to go on home.
Pauline had never felt so scared or hopeless in her life. How in the world was she going to get out of this mess?
“Toby, it’s good to have you back in town,” Sheriff Plasters said with a wide smile. His chair squeaked as he leaned back, resting his boots on the surface of the desk. With a cup of coffee in his hand, he made himself comfortable. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the years—and I’ve heard of your grandfather. He’s got quite the reputation as a capable, no nonsense lawman. I’m sure he’s trained you right. I’m grateful you’ve agreed to help out as my deputy while Gerald is laid up.”
Toby grinned at the sheriff and crossed one booted foot over a knee as he sipped from his own hot cup.
He had to admit to himself that being inside a sheriff’s office, with the barred cells down the hall, the wanted posters, the potbelly stove in one corner, the rough looking cot and blanket nearby, and the familiar small arsenal of guns and rifles on the wall behind the sheriff’s desk, all made him feel right at home. He’d been in quite a few jails over the years, transporting criminals, and they were all basically alike.
Along with Sheriff Dave, Toby’s old friends Finn and Sam Maynard, who were hovering comfortably close to the wall near the stove’s warmth, had joined the group, while deputies, Phil Elliott and Keith O’Neill relaxed in their customary chairs. The sheriff had just finished telling him how his third deputy, Gerald Crowley, had broken his right leg and right arm when he had fallen from the roof of Widow Delamarter’s barn while trying to do a good deed and fix a leak.
“Glad to help out, sheriff,” Toby answered. “And I gotta say, I’m glad you make a better cup of coffee than Granddad. That’s the only thing I know of that he doesn’t do well,” he laughed and the others in the room chuckled with him.
“Well, I must say, Toby…or is it Tobias now?” Sam grinned.
“In Champaign, I go by Tobias, but I’ll answer to either,” Toby responded lightheartedly as he addressed his old boss.
Sam inclined his head and went on, “I must say that you have grown and matured into quite a confident man and I’m proud to say I know you. I think Champaign and your grandpa were just what you needed.”
Toby knew what he meant—they were just what he needed to get over the mental abuse he had endured at the hands of Al Shoup.
Toby raised his cup again in salute and thanks as the other men mumbled their agreements. He was just about to open his mouth to say something else, when suddenly the door swung in and Charlie stepped inside, a folded telegram in his hand.
“Sheriff…I got a situation here I thought you might want to see.”
Sheriff Dave let his chair clunk forward and addressed the older man. “What’s that, Charlie?”
Charlie nodded to the others in the room as he moved forward.
“I just got this telegram from Louisville, Kentucky—and not just Louisville, but from Elvira Davis…I mean Fetterman. She sent it to your wife, but I thought you oughta see it first.”
The sheriff took to his feet, confusion evident in his expression, as he reached for the paper. He read it quickly as the others watched, and then he blew out a breath and read it out loud for the benefit of the room.
NEED YOUR HELP. DAUGHTER OF OUR MAID THREATENED WITH UNWANTED MARRIAGE TO KNOWN SWINDLER. SHE NEEDS SAFE PLACE. WE FEAR THE MAN IS DANGEROUS. REQUESTING SANCTUARY. PLEASE ADVISE SOON. WILL WAIT FOR ANSWER. ELVIRA.
Sheriff Dave glanced up at Charlie. “When did this come in?”
“About five minutes ago. I rushed it right over here.”
“Somebody’s trying to force the daughter of Elvira’s maid to marry him?” Finn repeated as he unbuttoned his coat and placed his hands on his hips. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Sounds a bit like Beth Ann’s dilemma.”
“Yeah, sure does,” Sam agreed before explaining what had taken place with his wife eight years before to the youngest of the deputies, and to Toby, who had been in Champaign at the time.
Toby had been sitting stock-still, but from the moment Charlie had come in, a strong urge had been building within him that he should get involved. Finally, in one smooth move, he stood and declared, “Charlie, wire her back right away. Tell her to arrange a proxy marriage for the girl and then get her on the first train to Brownville.”
“Will do,” Charlie replied as he slapped his hat on his head and turned to go, only to stop and turn back.
“But son, who’s gonna be the groom?”
Without a doubt in his mind that he had been drawn back to his hometown for just such a time as this, Toby looked the older man straight in the eye and answered.
“Me.”
Elvira, Pearl, Livvy, and Pauline all huddled around the piece of paper the telegraph operator had just handed them. They were as far away from others in the busy telegraph station as they could get. Elvira read aloud as the women followed silently.
ARRANGE PROXY MARRIAGE FOR GIRL AND GET HER ON FIRST TRAIN HERE. MARRIAGE CAN BE ANNULLED WHEN DANGER HAS PASSED. DETAILS FORTHCOMING. NAME OF GROOM TOBIAS KELLER. SIGNED SHERIFF DAVE PLASTERS.
“Proxy marriage?” Livvy exclaimed. “What in the world is a proxy marriage?”
Elvira tipped her head back and cackled. “Woohoo! This is perfect! I knew Dottie would come through! But Tobias Keller? Does she mean young Toby Keller? But…he’s just a boy…no wait, it’s been at least seven years, so he’s in his twenties now. I thought he was living with his grandfather somewhere in Illinois and had become a deputy sheriff, so what’s he doing in Brownville? I’ll have to ask Dottie what’s going on, this is—”
“Mrs. Fetterman,” Pearl gently interrupted. “What is a proxy marriage?”
The effervescent woman merely took a breath and launched into a detailed explanation of the mechanics of a proxy marriage and how only a handful of states allowed it, but it was perfectly legal.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Pauline murmured. “I would marry this Tobias Keller, and another man would stand in for him, but it would be legal? But…what if, when I get to Brownville, we don’t even like one another?”
Elvira waved that objection away with a swish of her handkerchief. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. It’s all just a business arrangement. Brownville has plenty of attorneys in town and one of them can take care of everything. Plus, my friend Dottie—she’s the sheriff’s wife—she’ll take care of you and probably get you settled in the boarding house until we wire you and let you know that Barrow character is behind bars and it’s safe for you to come home. Perfect plan,” she grinned, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Pauline, eyes wide, looked from the elegantly dressed, but slightly flighty woman, to her sensible mother, and then to her excitable sister. “Married? To a man I’ve never met? But…isn’t that jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Why couldn’t I just get on a train and go to thi
s Brownville?”
“Oh Pebs,” Livvy enthused, “if you just got on a train for Nebraska…well, what if Mr. Barrow found out and followed you, and caught up to you? Why, he could ply you with alcohol or give you a sleeping draught or something, and you could wake up in a hotel in some town married to him! That very thing happened in one of the New York Detective books I read a few months ago. But, if you were married and carrying your marriage certificate with you, it would stop him dead in his tracks, because I’d wager ten to one, he’s too cowardly to chance stealing another man’s wife!”
Pauline shook her head, still unconvinced. Livvy and her detective novels. “I don’t know…what if…what if this Tobias is…”
Pearl reached out and patted Pauline’s arm. “Trust Mrs. Fetterman, dear. Evidently this kind of thing is done all the time. I have a good feeling about this. You’ll be safely married and living six hundred miles away. It will give the authorities more time to track that Barrow man down. You’ll be back home with us in no time, I’m sure.”
“Oh, this is so exciting!” Livvy couldn’t help but squeal before clamping a hand over her mouth and quickly looking around to make sure they weren’t attracting undo attention.
Pauline tossed her a squelching look, and then worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she tried to take it all in.
For a good thirty minutes, Elvira chattered, Pearl encouraged, Livvy gushed, and Pauline fretted, until finally the sheer number of words fired at her started making the term proxy seem sensible.
Slowly, the idea began to take root in her mind until she could see herself following through with it, although her head reeled with so much happening so quickly. Was it really just last week when she was working at a job she loved, living quite contentedly with her family, and the biggest problem she had was trying to figure out a way to let a potential suitor down easy? And now this!
“Well…alright, Mama, if you think this is best,” she finally acquiesced. “But…who will be the proxy groom?”
