Meadowlark

by Carolyn Lampman

  “About the same. He’ll swallow if we force liquid into his mouth, but that’s about all.”

  “As long as he’s alive there’s hope. When my brother got kicked in the head by a horse, he lay there just like that for almost a week. Then one day he opened his eyes and asked what was for breakfast. Could happen this time too.”

  “I hope so.”

  Sheriff Lucien glanced around the tiny room again. It was obvious he was uncomfortable talking to her in these seamy surroundings. Becky didn’t blame him. She felt a little out of place herself. “What was it you wanted to see me about?”

  “The circuit judge is in town. Your husband’s trial is set for the day after tomorrow.”

  “I see. Is that good or bad?”

  “Depends. The longer we wait, the greater the chance that he’ll be tried for murder. On the other hand, we haven’t got a whole lot to go on right now, and things are stacking up pretty heavily against him. This judge isn’t called the hanging judge for nothing.”

  Becky paled. “Surely he wouldn’t hang my husband just for assault.”

  “Freeman Jones once hung a man who’d been convicted of stealing a chicken. The judge was in a bad mood and didn’t like the man’s attitude. If Swede is found guilty, Judge Jones could take it into his head to have him hanged the same day.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “That’s why I was hoping you’d help. This whole situation becomes stranger by the minute. This is a simple assault case, but the toughest judge around is trying it. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how the army is involved. Swede won’t tell me anything. I’ve tried until my tongue’s darn near worn out. I might just as well be talking to a rock.”

  “He’s a bit stubborn at times.”

  “To be honest with you, Mrs. Swenson, the way it stands at this moment, Swede looks guilty as hell, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something important. I want you to tell me what went on between the three of you. I know it’s personal, but it’s the key to this whole mess. The last thing I want to do is send an innocent man to the gallows.”

  Becky looked down at her hands. She’d known she’d have to confess eventually and had been dreading it. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning, and she was all too aware that it would get much worse before it was over. It didn’t matter as long as Garrick was found innocent. “You’d better call me Becky, then, because my name isn’t really Mrs. Swenson,” she began quietly.

  Sheriff Lucien said very little as Becky told him of the circumstances surrounding her fake marriage and what had taken place after Cameron returned to South Pass City. “So, you see,” she said with a quaver in her voice, “Garrick had no reason to act like a jealous husband. We aren’t married and he…he thinks I belong with Cameron.”

  “Nobody is going to accept that after the way he’s been watching you for the past two weeks. I find it a little hard to swallow myself.”

  “You have to understand my hus...Garrick. He always puts everyone else first. He didn’t even...” Becky dropped her eyes and stared at her lap. “This is so hard. We…we weren’t even intimate until I forced it on him. He married me to give me the protection of his name until after the baby was born, but he never intended it to be forever. He was glad when Cameron showed up because he didn’t have to feel responsible for us anymore. There was never any love involved.”

  “No man is that unselfish.”

  “Garrick is. It was the same to him as grabbing the broken beam down in the mine or saving a total stranger from the Indians.”

  “Sounds like he has a death wish. I was in the army with a man like that. He volunteered for every dangerous mission that came up because he felt responsible for his sister drowning. Wound up getting himself killed. Could be what’s going on with Swede too. It would explain a lot of things.”

  “I don’t know of anything that would make Garrick act that way,” Becky said truthfully, but she couldn’t help wondering if the sheriff might have stumbled onto something. There was certainly some sort of dark secret in Garrick’s past.

  “At least I have a place to begin. I’ll take this medal over to the fort in the morning and see if they can tell me anything. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, let me know.”

  “Of course.”

  “I know this is all very difficult for you, Mrs. Swenson…Becky. And I appreciate all your help.” He glanced at the bed once more then turned toward the door with a shake of his head. “I hope it all works out somehow.”

  With that he was gone, leaving Becky to ponder his words. Though she usually dozed while she watched over Cameron during the long night, tonight her thoughts kept her awake. There seemed little hope of a happy resolution. Garrick’s only chance seemed to lie with the medal in Sheriff Lucien’s possession. If only it would identify the real culprit.

  The next morning, by the time Becky had delivered breakfast to the jail and returned to The Green Garter, she was exhausted. Angel had taken one look at her face and frowned. “You best go back to the boarding house and get some sleep. I’ll watch Alaina.”

  Becky’s half-hearted protest had been easily over-ridden, and now she made her way up the stairs to her room, grateful once again to Angel.

  “One moment, Mrs. Swenson,” Mrs. O’Reily said from the bottom of the stairs. “I’d like a word with you.”

  “Yes?”

  Mrs. O’Reily climbed the stairs and stood puffing before her on the landing. “Word is that you’re cooking for your husband at the jail.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And that you’re spending your nights at The Green Garter.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “I don’t want the likes of you in my house.”

  “But, Mrs. O’Reily, I’m only helping take care of Cameron Price. I assure you there’s nothing—”

  “I know what you’re doin’ over there, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Your floozy ways have already nearly cost one of your lovers his life and landed the other in jail. Even that ain’t enough for you, is it? You have to keep stirring the pot.”

  “But—”

  “No buts about it. You give my house a bad name, and I want you out.”

  “It didn’t bother you that much before today,” Becky said, flushing angrily. “What happened? Did you get a better offer for my room?”

  Mrs. O’Reily had the grace to blush. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not welcome here any longer.”

  “Fine,” Becky said, turning and starting back up the stairs again. “I’ll leave this afternoon.”

  Mrs. O’Reily grabbed her arm. “No, you’ll go now.”

  “But my things are in the room.”

  “Not any more. I put them on the back porch.”

  “What for? Cameron paid for the room through the end of the week.”

  “My rates went up.”

  “That’s against the law.”

  “Too bad. Now get out before I—”

  Suddenly the door to Becky’s room burst open and a ruddy-faced man peered out. “Is there a problem, Mrs. O’Reily?”

  “Oh, good morning, Judge Jones.”

  Judge Jones? All at once, Becky understood why she was being thrown out, and it made her hopping mad. The worst of it was she couldn’t do anything about it without making a scene. The last thing she wanted was to make an unfavorable impression on the man who might well hold Garrick’s fate in the palm of his hand.

  “Why, Mrs. O’Reily,” Becky said, “you should have told me you had such an important guest.”

  The judge smiled at Becky. “Are you staying here as well?”

  “I was, but Mrs. O’Reily was just pointing out that it’s probably time for me to find other accommodations,” Becky said, jerking her arm out of the other woman’s grasp. “My baby really should be in healthier surroundings. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “That’s quite all right. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

  “Yes, perhaps we will. G
ood day, Judge.” She gave her former landlady a sickly-sweet smile. “I’ll be sure to tell everyone just how kind you’ve been, Mrs. O’Reily. It should be all over town by nightfall.”

  Becky was proud of the way she swept regally down the stairs and out the door. It wasn’t until she was outside that she remembered all her worldly possessions were in back. By the time she had walked around the building, her temper was fading, leaving behind a feeling of deep despair.

  Garrick was being stubborn and silent when he should be trying to help the sheriff prove his innocence. Cameron’s condition hadn’t changed. The creek was still rampaging around her house, and she had no place to go. The sight of her pitifully small pile of belongings was the last straw.

  Fighting the tears and trying to hold the sobs that lodged in her throat, she gathered her things. She hardly knew where she was going until she reached the blacksmith shop. It was still early, and John Gibbons hadn’t arrived yet. Becky was thankful the building was deserted.

  Great sobs tore at her chest as she climbed to the loft and made her way to Garrick’s bedroll in the back. It lay there mussed and untidy, just as he’d left it on the morning of his arrest. Becky threw herself down on the blankets, buried her face in his pillow, and let the tears come. She cried for all the pain she had endured and for all that was to come. The tears were not just for herself but also for Garrick and Cameron and, most of all, for Alaina, who stood to lose not one father, but two.

  At last, she was all cried out. The anguish was still there, but it was blunted somewhat. She felt purged.

  A faint smell of leather and wood surrounded her. Garrick. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine he was there with her. Becky wrapped her arms around his pillow and let sleep overcome her. She slept soundly, her exhaustion so complete that she didn’t even wake up when John Gibbons arrived and set to work. The sound of his hammer fit seamlessly into her dreams of Garrick.

  Chapter 32

  “Where the hell have you been?” Angel asked when Becky finally appeared at The Green Garter. “I’ve been looking all over town for you. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of you.”

  “I fell asleep.”

  “Not at the boardinghouse. There was a strange man in your room.”

  “Oh dear, did you say anything to him?”

  “Only to ask him if he knew where the hell you were.”

  Becky winced. “I hope you didn’t make him mad. He’s the judge who’s going to preside over Garrick’s trial. Sheriff Lucien says he’s very temperamental and tends to take it out on the prisoners come sentencing time.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. O’Reily had me out of there before I could do any harm. I’ll have to admit, though, I did give her an ear full when I realized she’d thrown you out in the street. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind! I wish I could have done it myself, the old biddy. Is Alaina all right?”

  “She’s fine, though she may still be a little sticky from the horehound drops Sam’s been feeding her all day. I’ve never seen him so enthralled with a female in all the time I’ve known him.”

  “Then why were you looking for me? Mr. Gibbons said you were quite upset.”

  “Of course I was upset. I couldn’t find you anywhere, and I was beginning to fear I was going to have to raise my goddaughter all by myself. Where were you?”

  “After my little run-in with Mrs. O’Reily, I went to Garrick’s shop and fell asleep. Mr. Gibbons didn’t even know I was there until I climbed down the ladder and scared him half to death. What time is it anyway?”

  “Close to four-thirty.”

  “Four-thirty! Oh no, I didn’t get Garrick’s lunch—”

  “Don’t panic. I threw a meal together and took it over. You’ve still got plenty of time to fix something for supper. By the way, what did you do to Abner Stolks? He was ready to go out looking for you himself. I think he would have if there’d been somebody to watch the jail for him.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Nope. I think you’ve made a conquest in that one.”

  “Do you think he’ll let me in to see Garrick?” Becky asked hopefully.

  “I think he’d do about anything you asked.”

  “Oh, I hope so.”

  Though Garrick’s trial loomed menacingly the next day, Becky was hopeful as she carried his supper down the street to the jail. Angel’s revelation about Abner Stolks had been a complete surprise. Even if he had mellowed some, she certainly couldn’t imagine him actually being concerned about her. As soon as she walked through the door, it became apparent Angel had read the situation correctly.

  “Mrs. Swenson,” Abner said, jumping up, “we were worried about you.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Swede.”

  “I fell asleep.”

  Stolks nodded his head knowingly as he unlocked the door into the cellblock. “Not surprising with the way you’ve been goin’. Too much for someone as young as you to handle.”

  “Becky,” Garrick’s voice startled her, “are you all right? Angel said she couldn’t find you.”

  Becky could see his face through the tiny window in the cell door. She dropped the basket on the table and ran to him. “I’m fine. I went to your shop this morning and fell asleep in the loft. Nobody knew I was there.” She lifted her hand to touch his face through the bars, but he pulled back.

  “You look tired. Start taking better care of yourself.” With that, he turned and walked away.

  “I…I will,” Becky said, swallowing against the knot in her throat. She went back to the table and started dishing up the supper.

  “I reckon it won’t do no harm for you to take his supper in to him,” Abner Stolks said gruffly.

  “Oh, thank you,” she whispered.

  Garrick lay on the bunk with his eyes closed. He heard the cell door open, but he didn’t rise. Seeing Becky had been a mistake. It hurt to be so close and not be able to hold her in his arms. Knowing that her hands prepared every bite he ate, and that she touched every stitch he wore was difficult enough. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, seeking oblivion and respite from a reality that hurt.

  He heard Abner Stolks come in and smelled the tantalizing odor of Becky’s biscuits. Waiting for the familiar sound of the constable setting the tin plate on the stand by the door, Garrick let his mind drift to happier days.

  “Garrick?”

  The soft voice right next to his ear startled him, and his eyes popped open in surprise. “Becky! What are you doing in here?”

  “Constable Stolks let me bring your supper in.”

  “What for?” He jumped up and strode to the window.

  “Be-because he knew I wanted to s-see you.”

  “You’re better off if you don’t.”

  “But Garrick—”

  “Becky, just go.” Garrick put his arms along the bottom of the high window and leaned his head against them. He didn’t even realize Becky followed him to the window until she touched his arm.

  “Please, let me stay, Garrick.” Her voice was a sad little whisper that twisted a knife in his heart.

  He glanced down at her. The moment he saw her brown velvet eyes swimming with tears he was lost. “Oh Lord, don’t cry, little one,” he groaned, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair.

  For a moment, they just held each other, reveling in the closeness, afraid they might never be able to touch each other this way again. Then, without conscious movement from either of them, their lips met. There was a desperate quality to it, as though they could heal their pain by losing themselves in each other. Time stood still as they shared a wildly passionate kiss, exploring the familiar with an ardor usually reserved for a new experience.

  He was the first to break it off, breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. “I don’t think Stolks would approve of me dragging you to the bunk and having my way with you.”

  “Maybe not, but I would.” She traced the strong muscles of his back with her hands. “I
want—”

  “I do too, little one, but this will have to be enough.”

  “Your trial starts tomorrow.”

  “Ja.”

  “I’m so frightened.”

  Garrick closed his eyes and leaned his chin on the top of her head. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay away?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Becky, I’m not going to walk away a free man.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Ah, little one, you’re such an optimist.” He kissed her forehead then dropped his arms and moved away. “The truth about Alaina’s parentage and our marriage will come out almost immediately, Becky. The good people of this town will crucify you.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Have you thought how it will feel to hear yourself called a whore and Alaina branded a bastard?”

  “It doesn’t matter. My father called me that and worse all the time. As for Alaina, she’s too young to understand what anybody calls her.”

  “People will go out of their way to be cruel.”

  “Angel will stand by me. I don’t need anyone else.”

  Garrick was silent for several seconds. “I don’t want you to come here any more, Becky,” he said quietly.

  “Wh-what?”

  “You need to start putting some distance between us.” His eyes were bleak in the last rays of the sun. “It’s time to cut me out of your life.”

  “Garrick!”

  “It’s for the best, Becky.”

  “Says who?”

  “Becky—”

  “Now you listen to me, Garrick Swenson. We’ve been through a lot together the last year. Maybe we didn’t always agree on everything, but you’ve been there every time I needed you. I’ll be damned if I’ll turn my back on you when I finally get the chance to return the favor.” She stalked over to the door. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from that trial. Constable Stolks,” she said, knowing the man was right outside the door. “I’m ready to leave now.”

  Becky swept out of the cell before Garrick could think of anything to say. He heard her telling Abner Stolks she’d return for the plates later, followed by the sound of the outside door slamming behind her.