“See if there is…” He eyed Mary. “Aren’t you a nurse?”
“I’ll get my things.” She didn’t wait; she just hurried away.
Phoebe wrapped her arms around herself.
“You’re getting blood all over you,” the sheriff admonished. “I’ve known no one with such delicate skin.”
“I can’t stand the sight of my blood.” Phoebe shuddered and tucked her hands deeper against her body. “Since the accident, much of me is delicate.”
Everyone fell silent, waiting for Mary’s return. When she did, she had one of the baskets from the earlier meal.
“I found clean cloths.”
The deputy took the basket. “I need to check it.”
“There is a pair of sewing scissors in there so I can cut the strips to wrap around her wrists, but you can cut them if you’d, rather. I also require a basin of water.”
The deputy left to do her bidding.
“Shea said to stay strong even though he’s livid your wrists tore so,” Mary murmured quickly. “I’m here, and I’ll try to stay with you every step.”
“Mary you’re a Godsend.”
Mary smiled. “I’ve heard that before.” She took the water the deputy brought back and wetted a cloth. Carefully, she cleaned Phoebe’s bloody wrists. “I’ve never felt skin so fragile. Has this happened before?”
“No, but I’ve had my share of bruises since the accident. The wheelchair is unwieldy at times. No cuts though.”
Mary took the strips of cloth and wrapped them around Phoebe’s wrists. “That should do for a couple hours. I don’t want to go longer than that to check, just in case.”
Sheriff Farming gave a grudging nod. “It is suspicious.”
“Yes, it is, and I’m wondering which of you did it,” Mary challenged, pinning him in her glare.
The sheriff was the first to look away from their locked stare, but he said nothing.
Phoebe stared at her wrapped wrists. They hurt, but she tried to think of something else instead. Jesus was nailed to a cross. Thinking about it, really thinking about it, He must have suffered so. The real-life pain she had never contemplated. She knew the story but somehow never considered how it felt.
“Oh, I have sandwiches for us, Phoebe, and a bit of lemonade to share. It was so thoughtful of Shea to bring you food.”
Phoebe had the feeling Mary had been told how Mrs. Burns didn’t want a sandwich. They both ate slowly. How far away was Parsons?
Adel stood up. “I’m not sitting here another minute. It’s you who wants my testimony. Find me when we get to Parsons.” She stomped away, mumbling about how stupid men were.
A trickle of admiration for Adel filled Phoebe. Imagine, telling the sheriff she was leaving as though announcing dinner was served.
Mary rose. “Adel makes a good point. There isn’t anywhere for us to go.”
The sheriff looked as though he wanted to growl. “You may be right. Everyone who is not under arrest may leave.” He gave Mary a nasty smile.
Both Burns women flew out of the car without a word.
Lord grant me strength.
Chapter Twelve
The Parsons train station was in sight. Shea stood ready to exit. He needed to send word to his family; he needed help and he had to find a lawyer. Mary would take care of Phoebe for a while. Grateful wasn’t a strong enough word for how he felt that they had Mary helping them instead of Adel and Jasper.
As soon as he heard the squeal of the brakes, he jumped down onto the platform. The sky was full of ominous clouds. The wind kicked up as he rushed to the telegraph office. Having already composed the message in his head, he made short work of having his telegram sent. It would take a while for his brothers to get to Parsons, though.
He then rushed into the town to locate Mr. Spritz’s office. The telegraph operator told him that Spritz was the best lawyer. Shea easily found the office, and when he told the secretary his name, she hurried into Spritz’s office.
The door promptly opened, and the heavyset man came out first with his hand stretched out to shake Shea’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kavanagh,” he greeted as he pumped Shea’s hand up and down. “Please come into my office. Alice, bring us coffee please.”
Shea followed him into an impressive office. He’d seen lawyers practicing in offices as small and drafty as a lean-to and some as nice as this one. Dark wood accented everything. Built-in shelves held law books that appeared to have been used often.
“Please have a seat.”
Shea sat in a sumptuous chair facing the enormous mahogany desk. “I have a rather unusual case I’d like you to accept.” Shea went on to explain what had taken place.
“I must visit the sheriff and see what he thinks he has as evidence. A supposed confession witnessed by a recently fired employee I can deal with. I need to discover more about the Burnses. I have an investigator who can look into their background. It’s obviously a case of a desperate mother intending for her daughter to marry a rich man. Tell me, do they doubt Miss Kagan can’t walk? She didn’t have access to her wheelchair while on the train. When was that bandit supposed to have put the jewelry into her bag? Did this man ask how she was injured? If he recognized her from before her accident, he would have known her as a woman who could walk. He would have been surprised by her injury. How would he know which bag was hers? Her accident happened recently. Had you observed Miss Kagan speaking with anyone before you took the train?”
“She didn’t. I admit we hovered over her, concerned she might think she could still walk and end up falling. She could hardly move the chair on her own. Plus, there were steps to go down to get from the house.”
“No visitors?”
“She didn’t know anyone in town.”
The lawyer nodded. “I’ll get the rest of the information from Miss Kagan. I like to hear the story in the defendant’s own words. I think we have a positive start.”
“Is there any way she won’t have to spend time in a jail cell?”
“Train robbers have caused a lot of strife. Parsons was formed because of the railroad, and it thrives because of it. There are some who might prefer to make an example of Miss Kagan. I highly doubt she’ll be allowed outside her cell. I will talk to the judge and determine if I can persuade him otherwise.”
Shea stood up just as the secretary entered the office carrying a coffee service. He took the large tray from her and set it down on the desk. “Thank you, I wish I had time to stay and have some, but I have many things I need to do.” He turned and shook Spitz’s hand. “I’ll be at the hotel this evening. Perhaps we can have supper together and discuss the case.”
“Yes, that is a fine idea.”
Shea nodded to the secretary as he took his leave. Then he took the list from his pocket and scanned it. He and Mary had prepared the list of things Phoebe would require. He stopped at the mercantile and filled the list. Thankfully, Mary knew what size Phoebe wore. He didn’t even have time to blush buying underclothes. Necessities were necessities.
“I’ll need two new stuffed mattresses and bedding delivered to the jail.” After his conversation with Mr. Spitz, he had to acknowledge that they wouldn’t let Phoebe out of jail.
“Yes, Mr. Kavanagh.”
Shea nodded. “I’ll possibly need more after I go there and visit her and her nurse.”
“Is she sick?” the proprietor asked.
“Not sick, but she can’t walk. It happened less than a month ago.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
Shea had a feeling the entire town would learn rather swiftly. Hopefully, it would help. The Kavanagh name seemed to carry weight in this town, though he didn’t think any of his brothers had done business in Parsons.
* * *
Phoebe took many deep breaths to keep her tears at bay. The cell was disgustingly dirty and stunk of sickness and sweat. The sheriff in this town, a man named Donald Yardley, didn’t seem to care much about cleanliness. Mary had insisted
they allow Phoebe to sit in a chair outside the cell until she could make it clean, but Sheriff Yardley refused.
In fact, he sniffed loudly as though they were the ones who smelled. His dark beady gaze rested on Phoebe constantly. She drew in another deep breath. She’d been under stress for days, well actually since the accident. How much was she expected to endure? “I don’t suppose you have a Bible I can borrow?”
Sheriff Yardley laughed.
Mary placed her hands on her hips. “There is no need to laugh. Phoebe, love, you possibly know your favorite verses by heart.” Mary went into the cell and wrestled the stained mattress out.
Isaiah 40
10 Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
Phoebe clasped the words to her heart. She could and would be strong.
Mary opened the door and shoved the tic mattress outside then exclaimed in surprise and stepped back. “Sorry, Shea, I didn’t see you there.”
Shea stepped inside. “Why are you cleaning the cell?” He looked around her at the accommodations and his lips pressed together in a thin line. Then he turned back to Mary. “I’ll ask the reverend for some help.”
The sheriff shot up. “No need to get him involved. Henry run and bring the woman who cleans the saloon. She’ll do a good job.”
“Yes, sir,” the deputy responded as he dashed out the door.
Shea kneeled on one knee in front of Phoebe. “Are you all right? I have new tic mattresses and bedding coming. I also bought you clothes and everything else Mary thought you’d need.”
She shook her head. “That’s too much—”
“Nonsense. Besides, it’s already done. Your lawyer is a man named Mr. Spitz. I’m impressed with him. He’ll be by to get your version of what transpired. He’s going to meet with the judge about having you sprung from here. But he was doubtful. I’m just so sorry.” He reached out and took her hand.
He always made her feel safe. He could have just left her behind, but he hadn’t. He’d gone to so much trouble for her. A true friend. Their gazes met and held. His concern for her swirled in his eyes. He smiled, and her face heated. There was something about him that pulled her to him. Wishful thinking, of course, for he wouldn’t be interested in someone as damaged as her. Too bad, because she could become lost in his blue eyes. It was a sad misfortune, indeed.
He gave her hand a quick squeeze before he let it go. Then he stood and stepped to the cell. He walked in and turned around in it. “This is unacceptable, even for a vile man. I’m surprised the smell doesn’t bother you, Sheriff. The other two cells need cleaning too. I do not wish Miss Kagan getting sick by breathing in this foul air.”
He glanced at her then looked closer and frowned. Instantly, he moved back to her side and pushed up her sleeve. “What happened to your wrist?” he demanded.
His anger caused her to flinch, but she forced herself to remain calm, knowing he’d never hurt her. “The shackles,” she answered softly. “Both my wrists are torn up from them. Mary cleaned and bandaged them. The bleeding isn’t a lot, but it won’t stop. We change the bandages often.” Embarrassed, she stared down at her lap.
“Mary?”
“Shea, it’s not deep and there is nothing to stitch up. The bleeding is persistent, but it’s not heavy. I’d like for a doctor to look though.”
Shea nodded to Mary. “Sheriff, we require a doctor.”
Sheriff Yardley pushed out his chest. “I don’t believe you.”
Phoebe slowly unwrapped her bandages and showed them that her wrists were bloody. She had to quickly glance away.
“Now, Phoebe, take a deep breath. I know you don’t like to see your blood.” Mary pulled two cloths from her bag and laid them over Phoebe’s wrists. “I’ll require clean water in a clean basin.”
“Anything else I can get her highness?” grumbled the sheriff.
Shea stiffened. “Just the water for now.”
The way he controlled his temper was a good thing. There was more and more to like about her… friend. Her feelings were too jumbled to examine them. She’d have to find something else to pin her heart on. Maybe the children on the ranch would allow her to love them. It would take care of her sadness. She never asked the doctor in Abilene if she could even carry a child. She had to stop thinking about matters that would never come about.
Chapter Thirteen
It was nearly dark by the time they got Phoebe settled. Much was accomplished, though. The doctor had seen her and wrapped her wrists. He claimed they’d stop bleeding, eventually. The cells had been cleaned, and they had moved the new bedding in. There were two beds in the cell now. Mary insisted upon it.
The one extra thing they needed was cloth to hang in front of the bars to give the women privacy. With every change, the sheriff huffed, but he said nothing further.
It was so difficult to sit up straight and act as though everything was great. Exhaustion had taken her hours ago, and all she wanted to do was cry. Trying to pretend the cell wasn’t meant for her didn’t work. Food had been brought, but she couldn’t stomach it. Both Mary and Shea were concerned, but their prodding and cajoling couldn’t entice her to take a bite. Perhaps tomorrow.
What would her mother say? Guilt and shame filled her. It didn’t matter what she thought. Phoebe sighed. All her life it mattered, and it still mattered. Her only consolation was her mother would never know.
“Phoebe?”
She looked up and everyone stared at her. They must have been talking to her. “Yes. Thank you both for all your help.” Her voice broke.
Shea lifted her and held her tight as he carried her inside the cell. For a moment she was safe. She tried to smile, but she failed miserably, and a tear fell. It was immediately wiped away by Shea.
“Try to sleep. Mary is with you.” His voice softened as he added, “And God is with you.”
His words of God warmed her. It confirmed in her heart Shea was a believer. “You’ll be here tomorrow?” she asked.
He smiled. “Of course. Mary, I shouldn’t be in here alone with this young lady.”
Mary popped in. “Not to worry; I had my eyes on you the whole time. Good night, Shea.”
“Good night.” His gaze rested on Phoebe’s face for a moment before he turned and left.
“That man is smitten with you,” Mary whispered as she helped Phoebe change into a nightgown. She tucked Phoebe in and handed her a handkerchief. “I hope you won’t have need of this, but just in case.”
Phoebe took it and nodded. Mary was so exceedingly kind. Surely God had sent her. Though her heart was heavy, she realized how blessed she was to have a clean warm place to lie her head.
She woke many times through the night. The deputy didn’t care if he slammed the door at a steady pace. Did he check on one building and then come back only to go back out again?
Phoebe mentioned it to Mary the next morning.
“Half the time he didn’t leave, he just slammed the door.” Mary looked hopping mad. “Let’s get dressed and see about some breakfast.”
* * *
Before Shea knew it, a week had passed. For various reasons, the judge wasn’t available. Their lawyer seemed to think they were stalling, looking for further evidence. Unless they caught the outlaws, Shea couldn’t imagine what else they thought they’d find.
Phoebe ate little, and she looked poorly. Her wrists still bled and no one could fix it. The reverend insinuated it was witchcraft. He could tell that scared her, and as hard as Shea tried to reassure her, she was frightened. It pained him that he couldn’t reassure her. He cared for her more than he should, and he already planned to run away with her if something went awry and they convicted her.
A knock sounded on his hotel door and he opened it. A young boy stood there with a note in his hand. He handed it to Shea, and Shea tipped him.
“Thank you, Mister!”
Shea watched the boy ru
n before he closed the door. He read the note with a sinking heart. He’d hoped for good news, but he was positive Mrs. Kagan arriving in town wasn’t a good thing. Grabbing his jacket, he hurried to the jailhouse.
He was right; it wasn’t a good thing. Mrs. Kagan was in the midst of telling the sheriff that her daughter was an ungrateful runaway.
He hurried by her and went to the locked cell. Phoebe was in her chair with her fingers wrapped around the bars of the cell so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes looked bigger than ever and they were filled with a pain he never wanted to experience.
“Phoebe?” He placed his hands over hers. “Phoebe? Look at me. Don’t watch your mother, look at me.”
She slowly turned to him. “She has no love for me. Not one small drop. I knew she had no use for me, but aren’t mothers supposed to love their children? She’s trying to have me convicted. What have I done to her that could have been so appalling, so revolting that she would spout lies about me?”
He wished he could soothe her tortured soul. The pain on her face almost made him glance away. Mary sat on her bed crying. His own mother hadn’t always been the most affectionate, but they’d had Dolly. She’d practically raised all the boys.
Shea was just about to go see the lawyer when his brother Teagan walked in. Relief washed over him, weakening his legs. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered.
His oldest brother had the same look about him as most of the brothers, blue eyes and brown hair. But Teagan also had a swagger and bearing that had others instantly recognizing his authority.
Teagan scanned the whole jailhouse and frowned. He stared so hard at the sheriff, the sheriff actually looked uncomfortable. He approached Mrs. Kagan. “And you are?”
She took a step back. “I’m the prisoner’s mother.”
He subjected her to a frosty glare. “You always talk that way about your daughter? Where I come from, family sticks together no matter what. I’d call you an interfering snitch, but I’m too much of a gentleman.” He kept walking until he embraced Shea.
Shea: Cowboy Chance: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 10 Page 7
