He carried the man up the side street. After the robber got patched up and locked in jail, he'd hang around and wait for the rest of the gang to come get him. Then he'd get Pete. Save him the time of following every trail to a dead end.
Gil dropped the unconscious man off at the house of Mrs. Danforth and headed to the saloon. A messenger would be sent to inform him when the robber was ready to go to jail.
He entered the saloon and leaned against the bar, wrapping his hand around the glass of whiskey the bartender put in front of him.
Miners and merchants filed back into the saloon to discuss the new marshal and wonder at the hasty decision of Tobias Craven. But no one would go against the biggest landowner in Galena. Gil shook his head and wondered if Craven knew what he'd done hiring a greenhorn young man like the marshal.
*****
Darcy followed Mr. Craven up the street to the jail. Jeremy skipped as he walked alongside of her, his eyes danced with excitement. She smiled at him and straightened her back. Mr. Craven had given her the rifle. He said they could stay in the quarters over the jail and get their meals at the hotel. It had turned out to be the best job they'd ever had. She grinned, three meals a day and a place to sleep, just to sit in a chair and look important. Maybe being a marshal wasn't that tough.
Entering the jail, a shiver of doubt snaked down her backbone. A large, wooden door with a small window made of metal bars stood open. She had a good look at the small room with two hard, wood beds. Gulping, she looked around at the sparsely furnished office. How would she throw grown men into the musty cell and lock them up? She looked at the rotund, flabby man beside her. I couldn't even roll him in and lock the door.
Dread began to gnaw at her euphoria of having a place to live and food to eat. She scanned the wood walls. Her gaze stopped at the wanted posters on the wall beside the window. Her heart jumped into her throat. Could she do this job? Could she act like a marshal?
Jeremy scampered inside the building. He jumped on the cots in the cell and ran his hands over the rifles on a rack along the wall. He appeared delighted with their surroundings. She tried to let his enthusiasm seep through her doubts. Craven had to go. She and Jeremy needed to talk.
"Thank you, sir. We'll settle in now." Darcy shoved Craven out the door and sat down in the chair behind the desk. She stared at Jeremy.
"What have you gotten me into?" It was easier to put all the blame on Jeremy than admit she wanted food and a place to sleep as badly as he did.
"Huh?" Jeremy stopped running and looked at her.
"How am I supposed to lock up grown men in there?" She pointed to the cell. "How am I to keep peace in this town when I'm smaller than most of the women?" She yanked open a desk drawer. The momentum caused something to slide to the front. She pulled out a metal star. It was as big as the palm of her hand and cold. She traced the raised letters with a hesitant finger as her heart hammered in her chest. What man had worn this before? Could she do the job?
"Jeremy, my feet don't even reach the floor when I sit in this chair." She looked at her brother. What had she done?
"You're supposed to lean back and put your feet on the desk. Remember Sheriff Tucker in Wilsonville when we was brought to him after you dumped that barrel of pickles over at the mercantile?"
Her frustration mounted at his memory of the events. "I didn't knock that barrel over. Some little kid was hiding behind the barrel and knocked it over when he ran out after another kid." She swung her feet, heavy boots and all, onto the desk. They landed with a loud thud. The spring on the chair twanged, throwing her forward and shoving the chair against the wall behind the desk. Her chin hit the desktop, clanging her teeth together as her body was thrown into the kneehole of the desk.
Her head started to clear when a soft, deep voice by the door said, "I'd like to speak to the marshal."
Paty's Website
Wild Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) Page 30
