Her Fearless Love_Seeing Ranch Mail Order Bride

by Florence Linnington

  “I do. Mr. Mullins showed me the picture. And Sheriff Ross came up here and made all my men show their guns to prove they didn’t have a Folsom in their possession. Although, I assume you know that.”

  “Yes. But they never checked Mr. Hawkins’ home for a Folsom.”

  Mr. Walker blinked. “All right,” he said slowly, sounding confused.

  “I believe it could be that Mr. Hawkins had one in his possession.”

  “And someone killed him with his own pistol,” Mr. Walker finished.

  “Exactly. And then disposed of it. What I want to know is if any of your employees can recall ever seeing Mr. Hawkins with this gun.”

  Mr. Walker folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “If it eases your mind, Miss Potter, I’ll ask, but please don’t get your hopes up. If any of the miners remember seeing that, they would have reported it to the sheriff by now.”

  Bonnie swallowed. She should have seen that answer coming. And it made so much sense. Was she really so silly as to think she could simply waltz up to the mine and receive all the answers she was looking for?

  With her heart plummeting, Bonnie realized she really had hit a wall. She was not so good at this detective business after all. If Sheriff Ross could not find Mr. Hawkins’ killer, what made her think she could?

  Bonnie glanced at the mine, where an unhitched and empty cart stood. If Margaret had killed Mr. Hawkins’, it seemed entirely plausible that anyone who knew about it would be protecting her. The abuse she’d suffered at her husband’s hands had never seemed to be a secret, and Bonnie guessed a number of men would see her killing him as justified.

  If things had been different. If it were not her betrothed in jail for the murder, Bonnie would be inclined to protect Margaret herself. The murder might have violated the law, but what was the point in obeying laws if they were only blindly followed?

  “You all right there, Miss Potter?” Mr. Walker asked.

  Bonnie gulped and smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He frowned. “Would you like me to have someone walk you back home?”

  Walk her back home? So then they were done here?

  “There is no information you can give me, Mr. Walker?” Bonnie asked with a shaking voice.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Bonnie’s eyes became wet and hot, and she lowered her voice, just in case someone she hadn’t spotted hovered nearby. “Do you think it is possible that some of your men do know what happened, and they are protecting the murderer?”

  Mr. Walker flinched, like Bonnie’s words had been a whip she’d cracked across his face. “That’s quite an assumption, Miss Potter. One that’s best the sheriff investigate. Again, I’m real sorry, but I don’t think I have the answers you’re looking for.”

  Bonnie’s head hung in defeat. “I see,” she said to her lap.

  “I’ll fetch a man to walk you,” Mr. Walker said.

  “No.” Bonnie stood before he could take even a step. “Thank you. Have a good day, Mr. Walker. Thank you for your time.”

  He tipped his hat. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  Bonnie turned swiftly, ashamed of the exhaustion on her face. She was constantly tired and downtrodden and hated that others were witness to her in such a state. She wanted to slip into a cave and fall asleep until the end of time. The only thing that stopped her from doing that was Steve. No matter what Bonnie did, he would still be in that jail cell. He would still need help.

  Eyes on the road in front of her, she walked away from the mine.

  “Hello there,” someone said. “Miss. Hold on.”

  Bonnie stopped walking to find a miner she didn’t recognize hustling over to her. Mr. Walker had left the canvas’ shade and was nowhere to be seen.

  The man, his face and hands streaked with coal, stopped in front of Bonnie with a huff. “You’re Bonnie Potter, right?”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I’m Wayne Hickson. Your fellow Steve is a real good friend of mine. We get along real well.”

  “Mr. Hickson,” Bonnie murmured, the name ringing a bell. “Yes, I believe Steve has mentioned you once or twice.”

  “How is he doing? Have you heard anything? I know Neil went to see him today.”

  “I am afraid I know about as much as you do, Mr. Hickson.”

  “Huh.” Mr. Hickson put his hands on his hips and nodded gravely. “If I might ask, what are you doing here, Miss Potter?”

  Bonnie hesitated. She did not know this man. Could she trust him? Then again, who could she trust? She had told Mr. Walker about her hunt for the murderer without really knowing him. For all she knew, the foreman could be the killer.

  At least Mr. Hickson was a friend of Steve’s who he’d mentioned in prior conversation.

  “I am seeking answers about the gun that was used to kill Mr. Hawkins,” Bonnie said.

  “Oh. Well, the sheriff already came and checked our guns.”

  “Yes. I know.” Bonnie’s gaze fell to the dirt at her feet.

  “I have to tell you one thing, though.” Mr. Hickson took a step closer to Bonnie, and she looked up. “You know Warren Percy, the Hawkins’ neighbor?”

  Bonnie’s heart raced. “Yes.”

  “I would have told the sheriff this, but it only came to me last night. See, I was lying awake thinking about all this, trying to figure out what could have really happened to Hawkins...”

  Bonnie nodded. She wished Mr. Hickson would hurry to the end of his story.

  “And then I remembered this one time, he complained about Percy,” Mr. Hickson said. “He said the man was always coveting his land.”

  “What for?” Bonnie asked.

  Mr. Hickson shrugged. “Wish I knew, but that I can’t tell you. That’s all Hawkins’ said. Though I do gotta say, Hawkins’ complained a lot. Nothing really suited him.”

  Bonnie licked her lips. “Was there anyone else he complained about?”

  “Our foreman, Mr. Walker. Griped about him all the time. And his wife, sure. And other things... like the saloon. Thought it was too tight-laced there. The prices at the general store. He was that kind of man, you see? Never happy.”

  “Yes, that is the impression I have received,” Bonnie said grimly. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Mr. Percy?”

  “Naw,” Mr. Hickson said. “I apologize about that, though. You let me know if you need anything, all right? We all think real well of Steve. All of us here at the mine.”

  “You do?” Bonnie asked, her heart feeling like it would crack in two. It was one thing to know that Steve was a good man, but to hear that so many thought equally highly of him was overwhelming.

  “We certainly do,” Mr. Hickson said.

  “And you would do anything you could to help free him, would you not?” Bonnie asked. “I mean if that meant revealing any information.”

  “We would. Course we would.”

  Bonnie exhaled. “Thank you, Mr. Hickson.”

  “You think someone might be hiding something?”

  “Someone most certainly is,” Bonnie answered. “The question is, what are they hiding?”

  His lips pressed tight. “I’ll let you and the sheriff both know if anything happens, Miss Potter. You have my word.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hickson. Have a good day.”

  “You too, Miss Potter.”

  Excitement swirling through her, Bonnie turned once more and walked for home. In her mind, it was still a possibility that Margaret had a part in the murder, but now there was also a second suspect.

  Could Mr. Percy have killed Mr. Hawkins’ in an attempt to seize his land? Perhaps he thought that Margaret, with her husband dead, would sell the acres?

  Bonnie had many questions with few answers, but what she did have was the will to find them.

  32

  32. Steve

  Chapter thirty-two

  Steve leaned against the jail cell wall. Across from him, Neil sat on the rickety w
ooden chair. For his visit, Sheriff Ross had allowed Neil to enter the cell. Whether this was because Neil was a man or the sheriff was more considerate than the deputy, Steve didn’t know. He was grateful for it, though.

  “How are you doing, really?” Neil asked quietly.

  He’d already asked twice, but Steve felt no annoyance at hearing the question again. In fact, he didn’t feel much. That morning, when he opened his eyes, he’d found an odd calmness filling him.

  After staying up most of the night praying harder than he ever had, Steve had surrendered. He’d completely turned the situation over to God then fallen asleep. An hour or two of rest hadn’t done his body much good, but he’d woken up with a new ease in his heart.

  What would be would be. No sense could be found in resistance. And for all Steve knew, this path, though hard, would do some good. Not anytime soon, but maybe one day.

  Things happened. Why they happened wasn’t up to him. At least his short time in jail had taught him that.

  “I’m...” Steve cocked his head, figuring out how best to put it all into words. “It doesn’t matter,” he finished. “I’m here, and what will be will be. It’s Bonnie I’m concerned about.”

  Neil bowed his head. “She’s turning over every rock in Whiteridge to find out who killed Hawkins.”

  Steve’s heart skipped a beat. “Who else knows about this? Is she going around asking questions?”

  Bonnie had told him she would figure out who killed Hawkins, but it wasn’t until now that Steve really realized how dangerous her poking around could be. If Hawkins’ killer was still in the area, be it Whiteridge, Pathways, or Shallow Springs, then they were sure to catch word of Bonnie’s activities.

  “I don’t know exactly who all she’s talking to,” Neil said.

  “Neil.” Steve looked his friend straight in the eye. “This kind of nosing around is dangerous.”

  “I know that, but I also doubt anyone could stop her. Besides, she wants you out of here. Don’t you want the same?”

  Steve looked out the window. “It doesn’t matter what I want. She’s what matters now. I’m stuck here. Her life is still going on.”

  Neil made an exasperated noise. “See, that’s the kind of talking you shouldn’t be doing. Stuck here. What kind of an attitude is that?”

  “I’ve accepted it, Neil,” Steve said calmly.

  “More like given up. Well, you know who hasn’t given up? Me and Bonnie. We’ll be working to get you free till the day we die.”

  “It’s God who can set me free,” Steve said, “If He wishes. And if He doesn’t...”

  Neil sighed. “I wish I had that kind of faith. Still, God works through folks. Don’t forget that. I’m not giving up on you anytime soon.”

  Steve smiled. “You’re a good friend.”

  “You’d do the same for me,” Neil answered, his voice thick.

  “You know I would... But, listen. I don’t expect you to do this. The sheriff has done everything he can.”

  “Argh, the sheriff.” Neil raised his voice. “The sheriff will have blood on his hands for this!”

  “I don’t think he can hear you through the closed door,” Steve said.

  Neil shook his head. “I’ll tell him when I leave.”

  “He’s doing his best.”

  Neil’s eyebrows pinched together. “I thought you were spitfire mad at him.”

  “I was angry. I don’t think you’re listening to what I’m saying.”

  Neil blinked, his face softening. “Please don’t give up.”

  “I’m not. I’m merely letting go. I’m putting this into God’s hands.”

  Neil sighed and slapped his hat against his thigh. “I suppose I can’t argue against that. Just so long as you haven’t let go of all faith.”

  “I think my faith is getting stronger. I’m trusting that whatever happens, it’s part of God’s plan. Even if that means I don’t make it out of here.”

  Neil’s lips twisted, and Steve could tell he wanted to argue, but he only nodded. “What can I do?”

  Steve didn’t hesitate. “If I’m found guilty, I want you to take care of Bonnie.”

  Neil’s eyebrows shot up. “Like marry her?”

  Steve’s gut twisted. “That’s not what I meant, no...”

  But wouldn’t that be a good idea? If Neil and Bonnie both wanted it, that was. She’d be taken care of, and Neil would have company.

  Steve cleared his throat. “But if it comes to that...”

  “Aw, now, Steve...”

  “Listen now, all right? Please.”

  Neil’s jaw ticked. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m not necessarily talking marriage. Keep an eye on her at least. If she needs help with anything, tell me you’ll be there for her.”

  “You know I will, Steve. You don’t even need to ask.”

  “Good.” Steve looked through the bars of the cell. The door to the sheriff’s office, which was the only way out, remained closed. “And don’t give Sheriff Ross trouble, you hear?”

  “I won’t,” Neil grumbled.

  “Good.” Steve’s lips twitched. It was hard to believe it, but in spite of his incarceration, he was smiling. The peace in his heart wasn’t imagined. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

  “I wish I could come back tomorrow.”

  “Naw, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be here for the trial. I’m going to testify. So will Wakefield and Joe Walker.”

  “Good. That will be nice.”

  Neil pursed his lips and rubbed his palms together. Steve could feel the discomfort rolling off of him.

  “Neil. Look at me.”

  He did.

  “No matter what happens, I’m gonna be all right. So will you. So will Bonnie.”

  “How do you know?” Neil croaked.

  “I don’t know it. My head don’t know anything right now. I feel it. You get me there?”

  Neil’s grimaced. He wanted to argue more. After sitting quietly for a moment, though, he nodded.

  “I figure I just have to trust you,” Neil said.

  “Trust God,” Steve corrected.

  The door opened, and Sheriff Ross looked at them through the cell bars. “Time to go, Neil. I got a missing horse to investigate.”

  “A missing horse is more important than me seeing my best friend?” Neil cried.

  “Neil,” Steve said, giving him a hard look.

  Neil stood. “Right. I’ll go.”

  Steve went to shake Neil’s hand, but his friend pulled him into a strong hug. Sheriff Ross opened up the cell door, and Neil looked over his shoulder before going through.

  “I’ll be back soon as I can,” Neil said.

  “It’s all right,” Steve said, hoping Neil understood that he meant everything was just fine.

  Neil nodded once and departed with the sheriff. The silence hung heavy in the empty jail. It didn’t crush him like it had even six hours before, though. It still cut into Steve, sure, but now that he let it, it didn’t destroy him. Instead, it made him go inside of himself. With the threat of everything he cherished being taken away, Steve did the only thing he could do: he turned to the place that was there before anything physical existed. He turned to God.

  With faith, Steve knew, all things were possible. But with God, maybe nothing was necessary. Everything would come to pass in whatever way it was supposed to. If he needed to remain in jail, so be it. If he would be released from jail, so be it. This was Steve’s path. Neil had his. Bonnie had hers.

  Steve had fought his whole life against the world. Sometimes he’d won. Sometimes he’d lost. Every day, though, had been a battle.

  He was happy to put down his weapons.

  33

  33. Bonnie

  Chapter thirty-three

  Bonnie’s insides squirmed as she approached Mr. Percy’s home. She had a plan, one she’d concocted on her walk from the mine. However, with each step she took toward Mr. Percy’s cab
in, the plan seemed less and less suitable.

  She would pretend that Margaret had promised to leave her a basket of cloth near her front door and that, upon going to the empty home and looking for the basket, she had not found it.