Her Fearless Love_Seeing Ranch Mail Order Bride

by Florence Linnington

  “About what?”

  “Steve feels strongly that the person who killed Mr. Hawkins lives in Whiteridge.”

  Margaret’s brow furrowed. “Why is that?”

  “It was too cold for any vagabond to be sleeping outside that night, and any visitors to the town were in the hotel at the music. So whoever did it must have had a home to retreat to.”

  Margaret blinked, considering this. “Unless they continued on that night. They could have ridden down to Shallow Springs or Pathways.”

  “But not in the dark,” Bonnie said. “That would take even longer than it does during the day.”

  “Yes,” Margaret answered. “That is true. So what are these questions you wanted to ask me?”

  “Did Mr. Hawkins have anyone he spoke ill of? Anyone you ever saw or heard about him arguing with?”

  Margaret shook her head. “I am sorry, Bonnie. I already told the sheriff this: my husband didn’t tell me anything about anyone. He barely spoke to me, unless it was to order me around or tell me I’d done something wrong.”

  Her voice took on more and more emotion as she spoke.

  “I understand, Margaret,” Bonnie said. “I am sorry if I upset you.”

  Margaret folded her arms across her chest. “I wish I could help your fiancée out. I truly do.”

  A new thought occurred to Bonnie. She wanted to believe it was a stretch, but...

  Lifting her eyes, Bonnie looked around the cabin and surveyed the walls. Most homes had rifles or pistols hanging on the hooks, but Margaret’s cabin had neither.

  Apparently, she was not as surreptitious as she’d hoped, because Margaret turned in the seat to look at the wall as well.

  “What is it?” Margaret asked.

  “It is so... empty in here.”

  “Yes. I am moving.” Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “Are you now looking for clues in my cabin? He never had guests over, Bonnie. You won’t find any evidence here.”

  Bonnie chewed on her lip, not knowing how to answer. Silence spoke louder than words, though, and Margaret’s eyes went wide.

  “Do you think I might have killed him?” Margaret asked.

  “I...I...” Bonnie sputtered. Goodness, this was not how she’d expected the conversation to go.

  “You do, don’t you?”

  “I did not say that Margaret,” Bonnie said.

  “You did not have to. You’re not the first person to suspect me of shooting my own husband. The sheriff already questioned me. But you accusing me isn’t going to help matters any.”

  Bonnie reeled back, shocked by the anger in the other woman’s words.

  “Us women need to stick together,” Margaret said. “And you’re turning on me.”

  Bonnie took in a long breath, hoping to calm her own rising temper. “I am sorry, Margaret. It is just... many women, trapped in the situation you were...”

  “Many women, what?” Margaret asked.

  “They would,” Bonnie finished lamely, “...they would kill.”

  A pregnant pause filled the room as the two of them looked at each other.

  “I know many women would,” Margaret said, her face suddenly turning sad. “And maybe this doesn’t sound right, but I wouldn’t blame them for it.”

  Bonnie kept her mouth closed and waited for more.

  “But I didn’t do that,” Margaret said quietly. “It crossed my mind once or twice, sure, but I knew I would never get away with it. I also knew that I would never be able to forgive myself for murder. No matter what Russell did to me, I couldn’t become worse than him and take a life. What would God think of me then?”

  Tears came to Margaret’s eyes, and her voice shook. “When I found out what happened to him, my first feeling wasn’t grief. Or relief. It was fear. I thought, what if everyone suspects me?”

  Bonnie sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “And the sheriff did come and speak to me.”

  “What did you... tell him?” Bonnie winced, prepared for more of Margaret’s anger. Instead, though, the widow only shook her head, appearing defeated.

  “I was at the Hahns’. You know that. I helped with supper, and then, after we ate, I took an evening walk.”

  “By yourself?” Bonnie bit her tongue, worried the question sounded accusatory.

  “By myself,” Margaret said. “But I stayed around the house. I just went into the woods right behind there. I was too afraid of Russell to go any farther.”

  Bonnie nodded. She wanted to ask about the lack of guns on the wall, but she’d pushed quite far already. If she wanted to get answers out of Margaret, she needed to tread carefully.

  Besides, even if there had been a rifle in the home, it would not have matched up with the bullet found outside the shed. And surely the gun Mr. Hawkins wore in his holster had been inspected?

  Or maybe not. Where was that gun now that Mr. Hawkins was in the ground? Had Margaret sold it along with his other belongings? Or discarded it after killing him and realizing the trail led right back to her?

  A shiver went up Bonnie’s spine. She did not want Margaret to be the killer... and yet... if she was, she needed to come forth and confess for the crime. That was the only way for Steve’s name to be cleared.

  Nausea rose in Bonnie’s chest.

  “Do you have any more questions?” Margaret asked.

  Bonnie opened her mouth, then closed it again. “No,” she managed finally.

  Margaret nodded stiffly. “Goodnight, then.”

  Heat flooded Bonnie’s face. “Goodnight, Margaret.”

  Bonnie went to the door, and she started to add ‘I am sorry,’ but was she really? Her fiancée’s life was on the line. She needed to do whatever she had to in order to free him from that jail cell.

  On the other side of the threshold, Bonnie turned to say a second goodbye, but the door closed smartly in her face. They were done.

  28

  28. Bonnie

  Chapter twenty-eight

  Thea bounced a crying Aria on her knee. “Shush, now. Shush, Aria.” She looked at Bonnie. “Hold her a moment, will you?”

  Bonnie took Aria in her arms. “There now. It’s all right.”

  Aria continued to wail.

  “She has an earache,” Thea said, going to the table and grinding the garlic she’d taken from her pantry. “This should do the trick.”

  “It’s all right, Aria,” Bonnie told her. “Your ma has something good for it coming.”

  “Here.” Thea approached with the mushed up garlic in her palm. “Hold her for me, please.”

  With a bit of work, they got the garlic into Aria’s ear. She continued to fuss for a minute more before finally crying herself to sleep. Thea took her into the bedroom and put her down before coming back into the front room.

  “Right now.” Thea repinned her braid and looked at Bonnie. “So what do you think?”

  “About Margaret?” Bonnie sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “I do not know.”

  After a night of hardly any sleep, she’d walked to Thea’s right after breakfast and told her everything about the day before, from her visit with Steve to her tense conversation with Margaret.

  Thea’s nostrils flared as she exhaled. “It certainly does make sense... not that I want to believe it.”

  “I know,” Bonnie agreed.

  “But... also... that is not our issue.”

  “Thea!” Bonnie cried.

  “Wait. You misunderstood. No, perhaps I should have put it another way. It may not be an issue. Margaret suffered greatly at the hands of Russell Hawkins. She could plead self-defense.”

  “Yes...” Bonnie thought about that some. “But who is to say that she would get off? Not every case of self-defense is so cut and dry. Sometimes, the judge decides that murder was not necessary for self-preservation.”

  Thea sat down with a huff. “Yes, that’s true... but it’s a stronger case than most. Are you going to send a note to the sheriff?”

  “I was thinking of speaking t
o her first.”

  Thea’s eyebrows flew up. “She sounded really upset last night. Are you sure that is a good idea?”

  “I can’t just send a tip into the sheriff. That would be...”

  Bonnie thought about what Margaret said about women needing to stick together. Even if Margaret did kill Mr. Hawkins, Bonnie wanted Margaret to decide to come to confession herself.

  “I want to talk to her first,” Bonnie repeated. “I simply think it is the right thing to do.”

  Thea looked uncertain. “Well, all right.”

  Aria began crying again, and Thea sighed. “It’s quite funny, really. When she sleeps little during the night, that makes her cranky during the day, which, for some reason, means she cannot nap.”

  “You do not look amused,” Bonnie pointed out.

  “Don’t I, though?” Thea asked, moving to the bedroom door.

  Bonnie stood. “I will go and speak with Margaret now.”

  Thea paused in the doorway. Aria’s crying had simmered down to a quiet whimpering. “I want to go with you. She is likely still going to be resistant to all of this.”

  “And you have ways of breaking her?” Bonnie asked, only half joking.

  Thea remained serious. “Perhaps. If it comes to that.”

  “But what about Aria? She is ill.”

  A knock sounded on the front door.

  “There is your answer.” Thea crossed to open the door. “It’s a good thing I arranged for a sitter so I could get some of the housework done.”

  She opened the door, and Esme Ortega came in all smiles.

  “Good morning,” the older woman sang. Her eyes fell on Bonnie. “And look at you. So beautiful.”

  “Hello, Miss Ortega,” Bonnie said. The day that the two of them rode up to Whiteridge together seemed to have taken place years before. So much had happened since then.

  Aria began whimpering again, and Thea grabbed her jacket. “I gave her some garlic. There’s more on the table. Bonnie and I must run out. We will be back shortly. Thank you!”

  Thea grabbed Bonnie’s hand and pulled her out the door. On the road, they walked shoulder to shoulder.

  “We are a regular detective duo,” Thea said.

  Bonnie looked at her sideways. Was Thea having fun?

  “Do you ever read mystery stories?” Thea asked. “I have a thrilling one Wakefield ordered me. I will loan it to you when I finish.”

  “I don’t know if my life will ever be that normal again,” Bonnie said. “For me to read a book, you know.”

  “Cheer up. It is one step at a time. We will talk to Margaret and go from there. That is all we can do.”

  But Margaret was not in her cabin. She also was not anywhere outside either. After knocking for the second time, Thea tried the door and found it locked.

  “Perhaps she went into town,” Bonnie suggested.

  Thea frowned. “I’m going to look into the window.”

  “But that is... Really?”

  Thea gave Bonnie a quick look, and Bonnie nodded. “I will boost you up.”

  The window was slightly higher than their heads. It was the kind that let in sunlight but gave the people inside very little chance at an enjoyable view.

  “Um, let’s see... here...” Bonnie squatted down. “I suppose climb onto my shoulders.”

  Thea was smaller than Bonnie, but not by much. Her muscles strained, and her back ached as Thea put her knees into her shoulders.

  “Ouch,” Bonnie muttered, holding onto Thea’s ankle with one hand and bracing herself against the cabin wall with the other.

  “I see inside!”

  “Good,” Bonnie grunted. “Is anyone... in there?”

  “I’m coming down.”

  In the most ungraceful way possible, Thea tumbled off Bonnie’s shoulders and barely managed to stop herself from falling face-first onto the ground.

  “What did you see?” Bonnie asked, pressing her hand against her sore shoulder.

  Thea shook her head. “The whole place... there’s no furniture. It’s empty.”

  Bonnie stared at Thea. “What?”

  “She’s moved, Bonnie. Margaret left.”

  29

  29. Bonnie

  Chapter twenty-nine

  “She’s... not...” Bonnie struggled to comprehend Thea’s announcement.

  “There was no bed,” Thea said. “No table. Nothing.”

  “But Margaret was not moving this quickly. She was not supposed to go until...”

  When had Margaret said her job in Pathways began? Next week?

  “I was over here last night, Thea, and she said nothing about leaving today. It’s not even noon yet.”

  Thea’s lips drew tight. “Perhaps she felt there was reason to swiftly leave town.”

  Bonnie’s gut twisted. Not for the first time when it came to Margaret, conflicting feelings filled her. She wanted Margaret to leave this mountain behind, to leave the life and all the pain she’d been through behind. If she had killed Mr. Hawkins, that was between her and God. Right then, though, Margaret was still on this Earth, and Bonnie wanted her to be free.

  But she wanted something more than that. She wanted Steve to be exonerated for the murder. She wanted to have him back in her arms and to be able to become his wife.

  “I will go to Pathways, then, and talk to her,” Bonnie said.

  Thea frowned. “Pathways is quite a distance.”

  “If I leave now, I will be able to make it before nightfall.”

  “True,” Thea said slowly.

  “Then it’s settled.” Bonnie hesitated. “But I need a horse.”

  “I don’t want you to go on your own.”

  “You can’t come, Thea. You have Aria.”

  “No, but I bet Wakefield will go with you.”

  Bonnie chewed that over. “I don’t want to put him out.”

  “I don’t like thinking of you riding all the way down there by yourself. Plus, you will need somewhere to stay once you arrive, as you won’t make it back here before dark. Wakefield has friends who will take you both in.”

  “Wakefield does not need to come,” Bonnie said, thinking of the business that Thea’s husband had to run.

  “I am sure he would like, too,” Thea said. “And if Margaret does confess...”

  “You mean I’ll need some muscle.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Right.” Bonnie set off at a brisk pace. “We will ask Wakefield. Thank you for suggesting that.”

  They did not even make it to the hotel, though, because just as they were about to go into it, Thea glanced across the street.

  “There!” she cried, grabbing Bonnie’s arm.

  Bonnie jumped and pressed her hand to her heart. “What is it?”

  “Margaret just went into the church.”

  Bonnie’s breath caught in her throat. “What? Are you certain?”

  “Yes, it was her. Come on, hurry!”

  Taking Bonnie’s hand, Thea walked quickly across the street. The church’s door was open, and they peeked in. Margaret sat in the first pew, her head bowed.

  “We should wait,” Bonnie whispered. Though she burned to know what was happening with Margaret, she did not wish to interrupt a woman in the middle of prayer.

  Margaret must have heard her, though, because she turned in the pew to look at Bonnie and Thea. At the sight of them, she pursed her lips.

  “I apologize,” Thea said, stepping into the middle of the doorway. “We will wait outside until you are finished.”

  “And then you will interrogate me?” Margaret asked.

  Thea gave Bonnie a look that was a mix of uncertainty and fear.

  “Margaret,” Bonnie began.

  “Come in,” Margaret said. “I was just about finished, anyway.”

  Bonnie and Thea made their way down the aisle and took seats in the pew across from Margaret. Instead of the work dress Bonnie usually saw her in, she wore a traveling one, with plaid trim and a matching hat.

&n
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