“Keep running to my—” Her voice had started to rise, but she ended her rebuttal with a strangulated huff and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve half a mind to stay, if only to show you what I’m made of, Sheriff Callahan!”
He felt his eyes widen. His gaze snapped to hers. She couldn’t be serious, could she? “I think that would be a mistake, Miss Brindle.” Not only for his town, but maybe for his heart as well.
“You do, do you? Well, I—”
“I’ve brought you both a plate of sweets.” Belle’s voice cut through the tension, and Reagan couldn’t decide whether to be happy for the interruption or not.
He accepted the plate Belle held out to him with what he hoped didn’t appear to be too stiff of a smile. “Thanks.”
Behind them, the front door opened with the tinkle of the bell Ewan had hung above it. Reagan tossed a look over his shoulder. King? What is he doing here?
Reagan stepped back and offered a slight bow in both Belle’s and Charlotte’s directions. “I see Sheriff Timothy King just walked in.” For Charlotte’s sake, he added. “He’s from Cedar Falls, a town a couple hours from here, but his son, Ben, runs our post office. I need to see why he’s in town. Please excuse me.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, both women were drilling holes in his back as he walked away, because he could feel the heat of twin glares all the way across the room. Each for a different reason, he felt sure.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte glanced at the plate of desserts Belle had placed in her hands and felt her stomach do a slow curl. The thought of eating anything with her stomach already churning the way it was, made her feel a little green around the gills. But worse yet was the piece of chocolate cake smack dab in the middle of the plate. She always got a pounding headache whenever she ate anything with chocolate in it. Most kinds of tea and coffee caused the same thing. Still, it would be rude to refuse the refreshments the town had worked hard to prepare in her honor.
She met Belle’s look with a smile and lifted the plate slightly. “Thank you.”
“Ma and Zoe went berry picking this morning. Ma made the fruit salad you see there.” She pointed. “But I made the chocolate cake.” Belle’s chin lifted in pride, and she gave Charlotte’s plate a pointed look that communicated a clear message.
Charlotte wanted to groan. Of course the chocolate cake would have been made by the one girl in the town who already disliked her. Forcing a smile, Charlotte lifted the fork and took a small bite of the large piece of chocolate cake at the plate’s center. She would pay for her desire not to offend the girl later, with a mountain-sized headache.
Belle folded her hands in front of her and tipped her head to one side. “Well?”
Charlotte felt a tingle of frustration at the girl’s boldness. She dabbed at the corner of her mouth and swallowed. “It’s quite delicious. Thank you.”
Belle gave a satisfied nod. “Reagan likes my cake too.” A glitter of challenge flashed in her narrowed blue gaze.
“I’m sure he does.”
“Belle, dear.” Mrs. Callahan stepped close and took Charlotte by the arm. “Why don’t we let Miss Brindle sit at one of the tables and enjoy her refreshments? How about you fetch her a drink?” The woman looked at Charlotte. “Tea? Coffee?”
Charlotte darted her tongue across her lips. At this rate the town just might be the death of her. “Just water is fine, thank you.”
Mrs. Callahan transferred an instructive gaze to Belle, who sighed and headed off, presumably to bring back a cup of water.
Charlotte had never felt more relief in her life. She’d been afraid the girl had planned to stand there and watch her down every last morsel of her piece of cake. Charlotte’s desperation that the girl would be back at any moment drove her to clutch at the older woman’s sleeve.
Mrs. Callahan, who had started to escort her to one of the tables, gave her a startled look and stopped.
Charlotte cast a desperate glance back toward Belle. She kept her voice low. “Mrs. Callahan, I wonder if I could impose on you to help me with something?”
The sheriff’s mother quizzically offered, “Certainly. What can I help you with?”
“It’s the chocolate cake, you see… Belle made it, and I do not want to offend her, but anytime I eat chocolate, I come down with a raging headache.” Charlotte wondered if the woman could read the desperation on her face.
Apparently she could, because Mrs. Callahan threw up her hands. “That child! I suppose she practically forced you to take a bite?”
Charlotte didn’t want to get the girl into any more trouble, so she held her tongue.
“Belle and her stubbornness, I do declare! I’ll fix this. Wait here.” The woman lifted her skirts and hustled straight to Dixie’s side. She said something low to her, with a nod to where Belle was filling a glass with water from a pitcher. Dixie’s eyes widened, and she in turn lifted her skirts and hurried over to meet Belle, while Mrs. Callahan practically dashed across the room to the sheriff’s side.
At his mother’s rapidly spoken words, Reagan’s brows lifted and his gaze searched Charlotte out across the room. He grinned before covering the distance between them in several swift strides. Without a word, he slipped his own fork beneath the slice of cake, transferred it to the empty space on his own plate where his slice had already been devoured, and then gave Charlotte a two-fingered salute that was only slightly hampered by his fork, before returning across the room to resume his conversation.
Mrs. Callahan settled into the seat next to Charlotte, just as Dixie and Belle returned with a tray of water glasses.
“Dixie met me and suggested I bring all of us water.” Belle’s eyes lit with pleasure. “You finished my cake first?”
“You do make a delicious chocolate cake.” Charlotte felt a bit of guilt traipse through her chest, but mostly it was drowned out by relief, and when the girl turned her besotted attention to the sheriff for a moment, Charlotte took the opportunity to mouth thank you to both the other women at her table.
Both of them grinned and offered her conspiratorial winks. And that was the first moment Charlotte felt like she might be able to be happy here in Wyldhaven—if she chose to stay.
But then there was the sheriff’s opinion of her. Despite the fact that he’d just rescued her, she felt her irritation with the man come to the fore once more.
“The sheriff thinks I’m unfit to stay on as Wyldhaven’s teacher.” Charlotte nearly gasped. She scrunched her eyes closed. Whatever in the world had made her blurt that out? Especially in front of the man’s mother?
“He what?!” Both Dixie and Mrs. Callahan dropped their jaws in disbelief.
Charlotte was gratified to see both women turn exasperated looks toward the man across the room.
She nodded. “He says I’m too small and proper and that I—” She snapped her mouth shut. Oh, when would she ever learn to think before she spoke? Mortification stole her breath, and likely all the color in her face too.
But it was too late now. Three sets of female eyes were drilling into her like their lives depended on it.
“And that you what?” Dixie prompted.
There was no way on God’s green earth she was going to tell them that he’d said she cut a fine figure. Her mind scrambled for something else to replace the words she’d almost spilled. “He said he won’t have time to keep coming to my rescue.” She was just thankful she’d been able to come up with a truthful alternative.
Belle sighed. “Well, he is right about that. The sheriff is a very busy man. You should probably take his advice and return home.”
Both Dixie and Mrs. Callahan inhaled sharply.
“What?” Belle didn’t look a bit sorry for her candor.
Once again Charlotte found herself coming to the girl’s defense. “No. It’s all right. Truly. I actually knew from the minute I rode into town that going back home would likely be my decision. But I’m stuck here for the next week, so I might as well make the most of my ti
me.”
Mrs. Callahan rested one hand over Charlotte’s on the table and leaned in. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, dear, it’s that a person can do anything they set their mind to do.” She nodded firmly. “So if you decide you want to stay, don’t let anything or anyone talk you into running back home.” She punctuated her words with a pair of narrowed eyes angled in her son’s direction.
Reagan could tell that Timothy King was reluctant to speak about the matter that had brought him to town. With so many gathered in the alehouse, Reagan couldn’t blame him. So he offered the opportunity to step outside. “It’s a mite warm in here, King. How about we take our plates out into the street?”
King nodded. “Don’t mind if we do.”
Reagan chomped down two cookies and slurped down half his coffee before King cleared his throat and got to the point.
“Wanted to let you know about something that might make your job a bit difficult.”
Reagan shoveled in a big mouthful of Charlotte’s piece of cake and held his silence.
“Word about Cedar Falls is that the Waddell gang is holding your new teacher responsible for Waddell’s death.”
Reagan just about choked. “Holding her responsible? He’s the one who kidnapped her. And it was the coach horse that bucked him off into the river. And it was only providence that I was close enough to catch her before she followed in his wake! Besides, last I heard, they hadn’t even found the man’s body yet.” He hadn’t had time to search himself, what with the paperwork he’d needed to send off about the arrests they’d made and a couple of scuffles he’d had to deal with out at the logging camp. But Joe had scoured the riverbanks for several miles downstream and found nothing. Neither had he received a telegram from any of the other lawmen, which he would have, had any of them found him.
King twisted his head in a gesture that said he agreed with Reagan but that wasn’t how the Waddell gang saw it. “All I’m telling you is what I’ve heard. Word is, they’re going to be gunning for her.”
Reagan suddenly couldn’t stomach another bite. He set his plate onto the top step and hung his hands from his hips. It was now more imperative than ever to convince her that returning to Boston was in her best interest. He held one hand out to King. “I appreciate you riding over to let me know.”
King nodded, propped his fork on his plate, and shook Reagan’s proffered hand. “I know you’d do the same for me.”
Reagan picked up his plate, but he didn’t return to the alehouse just yet. His mind worked a hundred miles a minute on the best way to convince Miss Brindle to return home. He’d glimpsed enough of her stubbornness that he didn’t think coming right out and telling her a threat had been made against her would be the best solution. That might cause her to dig in her heels and stay out of sheer stubborn pride.
He would give her a few days to see just how isolated life could be here in Wyldhaven. Planning for a boxed supper was sure to bump her up against some limitations she wasn’t foreseeing. And maybe that would be enough to convince her to return to Boston without him having to push any more. He would talk to her in a few days and gauge what her plans might be. Until then, he’d just have to make sure she was safe at all times.
A movement at the end of the street caught his eye. He squinted against the bright sunlight and put one hand to his eyes. A horse was walking into town, its rider slumped over its neck in a way that made it clear something was not right. He set his plate down once more and hurried to meet man and horse.
Wait… He recognized that horse! That was Will Kastain’s horse! He broke into a run. When he got close enough to see a slick of blood had oozed from Will’s side, over the saddle and across his horse’s side too, his heart lodged in his throat.
“Hang on, Will. You made it to town. We’re gonna get some help for you now!” Reagan grabbed the horse’s reins and led it as quickly as he dared back toward McGinty’s, where he knew Doc was still socializing. “Doc!” He was yelling even before he got to the door. He left Kastain astride and burst into the room. “Doc, come quick.”
Flynn lurched to his feet and pushed his way through the crowd as quickly as he could. “What is it?”
Reagan felt his insides turn. “Gunshot.” He tilted his head to where Kastain waited.
“Clear a table!” Doc Griffin yelled. “Everybody step back and make way.” He dashed out to get Kastain.
Charlotte Brindle was the first to move, followed by Dixie. They made quick work of clearing away all the dishes on one of the tables.
Reagan searched the room, and when his gaze stopped on Susan Kastain, her eyes widened, and she put one hand to her throat. He heard Zoe give a little gasp, and when he darted a look at Belle, she had both hands pressed to her mouth. He returned his focus to Susan, his fists curling around the brim of his Stetson clutched before him. “It’s William, I’m afraid.”
“Oh dear Lord have mercy! Did that man hurt my Will?”
Reagan had started to turn back to the door, but he froze at that. The room had grown so quiet he could hear the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. “What man?” Come to think of it, Zoe had started to tell him about a man this morning, but he’d cut her off.
Doc muscled his way back through the doorway, his arms wrapped around the chest of Kastain. Joe followed, carrying the man’s feet.
“Pa!” Zoe cried out and lurched forward.
But Dixie, who was the closest to the child, reached out and wrapped her arms around her, holding her back. “Let Dr. Griffin do what he needs to do, Zoe.”
Flynn and Joe laid Kastain out across the table. A muscle flinched in Doc’s cheek. “What I need is for everyone to get out. Ewan, get me every lamp you’ve got. Light them and bring them close.”
No one moved.
“You heard the man.” Reagan slapped his hat back on and clapped his hands. “Everyone out.” He gently pushed Ben and Timothy King toward the door, knowing they would help him by leading the way.
When Dixie went by, she squeezed his arm. “I’ll take the Kastains over to Mother’s and my place. Come get them when you have news?”
He nodded. It was only a moment before he had the room cleared. Most everyone took it as a sign that the social was over, and, somberly, families started for their homes.
Reagan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have to run out and check the Kastain homestead before too long, but first he needed more information from Mrs. Kastain about the man she’d been referring to. He had an inkling of suspicion that he wasn’t going to like her answer one little bit.
Why had he cut Zoe off earlier?
Dixie and Rose’s quarters were above the dining room of the boardinghouse. Charlotte sat in the front parlor with one of the twins, Sharon, on her lap, and the littlest Kastain boy, Aidan, plastered to her side. The other twin, Shiloh, sat next to him. Across the room, Mrs. Kastain paced, and Belle and Zoe were both perched stiffly on a single chair, arms wrapped around each other, even though another chair was just next to them. Tears tracked down Zoe’s cheeks. Belle simply stared blankly at the floor.
Charlotte’s heart pinched. Dear Lord, please help Dr. Griffin to be able to save Mr. Kastain’s life.
She’d been using a slate to help distract the littlest children, and now she helped the twin on her lap erase the chalk drawing of a very sad kitten. “Let’s give Shiloh a chance, shall we?” She urged the little girl to the floor and snugged the other girl in to take her place.
Aidan popped his thumb from his mouth. “I wanna tu’n.”
Charlotte squeezed him close. “You’ll get a turn in just a minute, as soon as your sister is done.”
Seemingly satisfied, he plunked his thumb back into his mouth.
A knock sounded at the door. Dixie hurried to answer it. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, but it was just the sheriff, and he didn’t have an update on Mr. Kastain’s condition yet.
He looked at Mrs. Kastain. “Susan, I wonder if I might ask y
ou a few questions about the man you mentioned.”
Charlotte’s stomach clenched. Somehow she had an inclination that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. She made a conscientious effort to relax so she didn’t pass her tension on to the children near her.
Mrs. Kastain pinched at her forehead with fingers and thumb. A shadow seemed to cover the little light that remained in her eyes. “Yes. Go ahead. Ask me anything.”
The sheriff rotated his hat through his fingers. “Instead of me asking, why don’t you just tell me about your day starting from this morning.”
Mrs. Kastain sighed, and her shoulders dipped in weariness. “Zoe had come to town to work, but Jinx knocked her in the mud.”
The sheriff folded his arms and looked like he was trying not to be impatient.
Mrs. Kastain didn’t seem to notice the sheriff’s hurry. “She came home to change. Belle was already in town, and I thought, since Zoe was home, she could help me pick berries for a fruit salad to bring to the social. We had our berries and were almost home when we came across a man sprawled out on the ground.”
Charlotte sucked in a breath and held it.
“He was banged up pretty good. Had a gash over one eye and a bigger one on the side of his head that disappeared around to the back. His arm was in a bad way—he’d somehow managed to splint it though. And he said he had a bum leg and couldn’t walk. Will was going to drive us all to town, but we sent him back for the man and walked in instead. He said he would settle the man at the house and then come into town with the wagon. I should have noticed that Will was later than he should have been.” A sob escaped her.
The sheriff’s eyes darted in Charlotte’s direction for the briefest of moments, and he cleared his throat. “It’s all right. This is not your fault. Can you describe this man’s clothing to me?”
“His clothes were right dandy, though they were all wrinkled like. And he’d cut up part of his linen shirt for his splint, I think. But his shoes were those fancy kind that you see bankers wearing if you ever make it to Seattle.”
Not a Sparrow Falls (Wyldhaven Book 1) Page 13
