A Sheriff's Fugitive Bride

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A Sheriff's Fugitive Bride Page 7

by Blythe Carver


  Rachel sniffed. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do,” Cate murmured, looking down at her plate. It appeared as though she thought along the same lines as Phoebe. “A girl can make a mistake. She can run away, headstrong and certain of herself. If she isn’t lucky enough to have people who love her, who will come looking for her and bring her home, she might turn to such desperate measures simply to keep body and soul together.”

  Phoebe glanced at Molly, whose slumped shoulders revealed understanding.

  “I will go to town,” Phoebe decided. “I will turn myself over to the sheriff and beg forgiveness for running away.”

  “You can’t do that,” Lewis muttered.

  “And why not?”

  “He won’t take kindly to it. You can’t simply ride into town and apologize like this was all some misunderstanding. You took the trouble to climb out of a second-floor window, then you drove your buggy all the way home. It wasn’t an accidental escape. And now, he’ll have you on an actual charge.”

  The girls’ voices combined in a single word. “What?”

  “Well, certainly.” Lewis shrugged. “You escaped. Even though you’re innocent of stealing the wallet, you’re guilty of running away. If he is angry enough about that—and I believe he will be—he’ll want to bring you in and hold you even longer.”

  “He wouldn’t do that to a woman!” Holly gasped. “Phoebe already said he wouldn’t leave her alone with those drunken men. He seems to have some sensibility.”

  “Not much,” Phoebe grunted.

  “I’m afraid that won’t matter,” he murmured mournfully. “It’s a matter of pride now, and the law. If Jake Nielsen knows you escaped, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll know by now thanks to the way everyone was talking today, he’ll demand Rance bring you back.”

  “What can we do?” Molly asked.

  Phoebe spoke before he could. “What if you bring him here?” she posed. “This way, there won’t be the excitement of my appearing at the jailhouse. We can keep this quiet so long as the sheriff agrees.”

  “And just what makes you think he’ll agree?”

  The memory of Jesse squealing and giggling as his uncle bounced him about flashed across her memory. A strange time for that to come up, but it was there, and she could not avoid it. “As Holly said, he does have a certain sensibility. I believe there will be some getting through to him. I would rather keep the family out of this, of course, but bringing my return to the attention of the entire town would do nothing to protect the girls.”

  She looked at Molly, seated at the head of the table, and offered a slight shrug. It was the best she could do.

  And Molly saw it. “I suppose this is the only alternative.”

  Lewis did not appear to agree, but he was well outnumbered. “Fair enough. I’ll ride out first thing in the morning and tell him he’s needed out here. He can leave one of the deputies in charge for a time, I would imagine.”

  First thing in the morning. Rance would be so angry by then. Beside himself. And when he arrived at the ranch, he’d only be angrier.

  It would be a miracle if she slept a wink or ate a bite until then.

  11

  “I want that girl found! I want her brought in! I want her taken to see Judge Cavanaugh, and I want her strung up for what she did!”

  Rance’s head was on the verge of splitting open, and that was without the assistance Jake Nielsen’s towering voice insisted on giving. It was what he imagined having ice picks jammed in his ears would feel like, every word like a sharpened tool designed to drive itself into his brain.

  “Jake, you’ll just have to accept the way things are for the time being. I can’t conjure the girl out of thin air, damn it. I have the boys out asking questions of the girls at the saloon, though Lawrence has already said there aren’t any who haven’t appeared for work. When I described her to him, he said he didn’t have a girl like that at the place. Go and ask him yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  Jake leaned over the desk in what he probably thought was a menacing manner, but Rance was far past the point of being menaced. He was too tired, too frustrated. Too sick of the whole event. He did not flinch in the least, holding the man’s gaze steadily, without blinking.

  “Even if she didn’t work there, she stole from me, and you let her go,” he growled.

  “And there are far bigger problems for me to contend with,” Rance replied, calm. “You didn’t lose a penny. So why not let’s agree the girl was probably from out of town and just stopped through? That it’s unlikely she was the one to steal from you, and that the girl who did might have up and left town, too, after you caused such a scene? You managed to drive two women out of Carson City,” he smirked.

  Jake’s face turned a peculiar shade of red. “This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,” he spat before storming out and slamming the door for good measure.

  “I’m counting on it,” Rance murmured, closing his eyes and letting the back of his head rest against his chair. What in the world was he supposed to do with the man? Like a dog with a bone he was, and he refused to let go even though a man with such gluttonous habits—both in food and drink—ought not drive up his blood pressure so. He’d inherited his daddy’s lands, and fortune after a stroke put him underground, for heaven’s sake, and he ought to have been more cautious with his health.

  The cells were empty, but that was normal. The most trouble they ever saw in town were drunks, men who started fights over women after drinking, sometimes the occasional thief. He might not have been much for holding a woman in place, but he ran a mostly peaceful town.

  If Jake got anyone stirred up with his loud talk and threats, it would be another situation altogether. Rance wanted to doubt this would come to pass—hardly anybody listened to even half of what the man said—but there was always a chance a handful of discontented men would take to heart stories of the sheriff’s incompetence.

  He stayed there for a moment, resting in blissful peace and quiet, before the door to the jailhouse squealed open again, and a pair of boots clicked on the floor.

  He should’ve known it was too good to be true.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked as he opened his eyes, and the person before him brought a smile to his face. “Lewis Sutton! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you here in town.”

  “Don’t have the time I once did,” Lewis grinned as he removed his hat. “Now that there’s no one to run the ranch but myself.”

  “Oh, yes. No rest for the weary. What brings you out here today?”

  “I have something out there I need you to see. At the ranch. It’s very important.” Lewis turned his hat in his hands, fiddling with the brim something awful. The sure sign of a nervous man.

  “I’m not entirely sure I can spare the time just now. Isn’t this something one of my deputies can see to?”

  “No, sir. It has to be you. Just you. And believe me, you’ll find it worth your while. I promise you that.” The man fixed him with a rather intense stare that caught Rance off-guard. What was he trying to say?

  Well, the ranch was within Carson City territory even if it sat miles beyond the town itself. He supposed any matters which went on out there fell under his jurisdiction, and therefore required his attention. Though he didn’t take well to the notion of losing the rest of the morning.

  Yet it would afford him the chance to be away from town for a bit, to get some fresh air and perhaps rid himself of the headache which had plagued him for the better part of two days. He jotted down a quick note to the other men before reaching for his hat. “All right, then. We’ll ride out to the ranch and see what it is you have for me.”

  It was a beautiful day for riding, he had to admit. The sky was clear, a deep shade of blue which hinted at the coming autumn. Once they were outside town, he could admire the sweeping landscape, the untouched majesty of it all. While he appreciated living in town and having everything he needed nearby, he sometimes questioned whe
ther the life Lewis led would have been the better life for him.

  Though he knew the other man’s life almost always looked better than one’s own.

  They rode for what Rance knew was quite a spell, but he enjoyed every minute of it. He’d been too long without a good ride like this, too accustomed to walking to and from the jailhouse and perhaps riding through town when the need arose. His body was in terrible need of more stretching, movement. Cramped up from sitting at a desk so much.

  They crested a ridge and were suddenly greeted by the sight of a sprawling farmhouse. He’d only been out this far a handful of times, as the ranchers in this area tended to keep to themselves except in case of emergency.

  The nearer they rode, they more impressed he was with the house—more like a castle, or very nearly. He’d thought only Mark Furnish lived so grandly, but it just wasn’t so.

  Then, he remembered something. “You’re out here with your wife and sisters-in-law, aren’t you?” he asked as they dismounted. His thighs were a bit sore after the ride, and he chided himself for falling out of the habit.

  “That’s right,” Lewis confirmed, gesturing up toward the steps leading to the door. “And that’s a great deal of the reason I asked you to ride out with me.”

  “Is there trouble with one of them?” He followed Lewis into the house, admiring the immaculate condition of everything. The wood floor shone, spotless, the tables bore bowls of enormous flowers. Silk wallpaper decorated the walls of the front hall, and a wide staircase featured a banister he would’ve wagered took several men weeks to carve by hand.

  “You might say that. Please,” Lewis murmured. “If you would step into the parlor. I’m sorry to have brought you out here like this, and I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

  “Wait.” Rance stopped, staring at the man. “What is this all about? What am I walking into?”

  “Nothing harmful, I assure you,” Lewis offered with a faint smile. “You’ll see. Please. Right this way.”

  Rance entered the parlor with a heavy heart. What could possibly be waiting for him?

  When he saw her, turning from the window to greet him, he dropped his hat.

  Her.

  She was here all along.

  Peepsy.

  “Hello, Sheriff.” She folded her hands before her, smiling serenely. Every inch the lady—and now, looking around her home, he could understand why. “Thank you for coming to see me. Please, make yourself comfortable. There are so many things for us to discuss.”

  12

  “You?” He gaped at her, slack-jawed. “You live here?”

  “I do. With my sisters, and my brother-in-law. I believe you two know each other. Please, have a seat. Would you like coffee? Tea? A bite to eat, perhaps?” She bit back a smile when her show of manners left him looking more confused than ever.

  “No, no, I don’t want a single thing. All I want to know is what’s really happening around here. Is this some sort of joke? Why did you bring me all this way?” He turned to Lewis with a scowl. “You could’ve told me about this back at the jailhouse, Lewis Sutton. I’ve half a mind to—”

  “Please.” Phoebe’s sharp rebuke cut through whatever he was about to say. She took a seat on the horsehair sofa and placed a saucer and cup of tea in her lap. “Have a seat. Now that we’re away from town and away from that terrible Mr. Nielsen, we might be able to come to an understanding.”

  Rance still gaped at her. “If you don’t beat all,” he whispered, shaking his head.

  “Please, have a seat. My brother-in-law will leave us in peace so we might talk privately.”

  Lewis took this as his order to leave, and he closed the pocket doors behind him.

  Not entirely. He left them open a crack, she noticed, likely at Molly’s request. She could imagine her sisters piled up out there, listening to every word. Rather than allowing this to make her feel self-conscious, she told herself to be strong with them behind her.

  But oh, how she shook inside. The fact that she kept her hands steady while lifting the cup to her mouth was nothing short of a miracle.

  She’d practice this so many times in her head, sitting in her room. Lying in bed. Washing up. Eating. She’d gone over this time and again, deciding what she would say, how she would command the situation. If she remained in control, he couldn’t step in and take it away.

  He was in her house now. This was where she lived. It gave her courage—that, and the look of shock and amazement he still wore when he managed to fold his tall body and perch it on the sofa’s plush cushion.

  She ran a hand over her striped silk dress, brought out just for the occasion. “Thank you for coming. I’m certain there are other matters which needed tending to, but I thought we ought to speak. I apologize for my escape, but I’m sure you can imagine how frightened I was.”

  He nodded. He had brought himself under control and now brought to mind a man walking a tightrope. She’d seen that done once, at the circus. Keen concentration showed itself all over him.

  “I’ve given a lot more thought to the situation, however, and I realize now that my silence incriminated me far worse than I had imagined. It’s merely that I couldn’t imagine saying a word without incriminating the guilty party. You understand.”

  “I do not. If you were innocent, you should’ve said so and told me who was guilty. We might not be doing this right now. I could be doing my job, and you could be doing… whatever it is you do around here.” He waved his hand to indicate the room and its furnishings. The dismissiveness of the gesture and his tone of voice told her what he thought of it.

  “I wish to clear things up now, so we can both go on with our lives. As you’ve said.” She lifted the cup to her lips, watching him all the while. He must be desperate to put an end to it, mustn’t he? The circles beneath the man’s eyes spoke volumes. He hadn’t slept in days. Because of her.

  When he snickered with a slight shake of his head, her heart sank. “You think you’re the queen in her castle here, don’t you?” He looked around the room, sneering a little as he did. “You sit here among all these fine things, drinking your tea. Now you’re the one holding the reins. Is that it? You call the shots.”

  Yes, in fact. That was exactly what she’d been planning, what this little show was all about. The fact that he’d seen through her so easily almost knocked her off-balance.

  She placed the saucer and cup on the table and turned her attention solely on him. It was time to lay niceties aside. “I think it’s past time for us to get a few things straight.”

  “Oh?” He laughed. “Such as?”

  “Such as my assertion that I was never guilty of stealing that wallet.”

  “This is not a surprise to me. I knew it all along.”

  Her brows lifted. “Then why did you hold me?”

  “You weren’t willing to go along with me. You were contrary and refused to obey my orders. Besides, it doesn’t matter whether or not I know something to be true or false. I have no proof, and if I can’t offer proof of your innocence, I can’t tell a judge to drop the charges.”

  She gulped. “Judge?”

  “Mm-hmm. Oh, you didn’t hear about that?” He couldn’t hold back a slight smile. “Yes, indeed. Jake Nielsen intends to go to the judge and call you out for being a thief, then call me out for being a pitiful excuse for a lawman. If I don’t bring you in, I might even lose my job.”

  “Surely you wouldn’t!”

  “Does it look to you like I’m telling a joke?” No, it most certainly did not. The man’s face might as well have been carved from stone.

  “But I’m innocent!”

  “We’ve already been through that. Now, if you’re willing to describe the circumstances under which you received the wallet, and if I can then find the person who stole it—if you saw them, of course—I can put together a case for the whole matter against you to be dropped.”

  She shook her head, fingertips rubbing her temples as the man’s words were giving her a tr
emendous headache. “Why would you do any of this? Isn’t what you described the sort of thing a lawyer does?”

  “Do you truly wish to have a lawyer involved in this? I’ll grant that it appears like you could afford it, looking around this place, but I would rather keep this as quiet as possible. I don’t need to see my name in the papers, and I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to see yours.”

  No, and she wouldn’t want the family name getting around, either. That was what mattered most. She held this close to her heart as she weighed her options. Give up the girl, whose panic-stricken face was still clearly etched in Phoebe’s mind, or refuse and face her fate.

  Could she sacrifice one person for the sake of four she loved so dearly? To say nothing of herself?

  “Well?” Rance prompted. “What’ll it be? Are you gonna come clean about what really happened that night, or am I gonna take you to town in shackles and put you back in jail? I warn you, now that word’s out, this won’t be one of those quiet, easy affairs. Everybody will see you, and everybody will know why I’m bringing you in. Especially once Jake gets to shooting his mouth off. It’ll be all over then. Do you really want that?”

  “You know I don’t. Who would?” She got up and walked to the window for lack of anything better to do. She only knew she couldn’t sit with him any longer. Just being near him made her jumpy, and the fact that they were alone—for all intents and purposes—only heightened her discomfort.

  “What are we going to do, then? Now that I know where you are and who you are, Miss Reed, I can’t walk away. You know that. And you must have known it before you send your brother-in-law for me, but you did it anyway. I believe that’s because you know the right thing to do.”

  “Do not patronize me,” she hissed, looking over her shoulder. He fell back a bit, clearly surprised. “I’m not Jesse. I won’t be swayed.”

 

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