“Good morning, Mrs. Bean.” Tolley unlocked the door and ushered her in. “How are you today? What can I do for you?”
“Morning, Mr. Northam.” Effie spoke in a monotone, and her face appeared expressionless. “Don’t need anything from you. Homer says you need somebody to clean your office. I can do it for twenty-five cents a week.”
“How thoughtful of Homer to notice.” Tolley studied the tiny woman. She and Homer both appeared to be in their midthirties. Effie wore her hair in a severe bun, and under her eyes were dark circles. Her well-worn brown dress hung on her slender shoulders as if it belonged on someone taller and rounder. If Tolley remembered correctly, the couple had three children, perhaps more. Maybe Homer’s income wasn’t enough to support them all. “But twenty-five cents—”
“Make it fifteen.” Effie’s voice wavered.
“No, you misunderstand me. I’ll gladly pay you a dollar a week.”
Her eyes widened, and a tiny smile formed on her thin lips. “That’s an awful lot for just cleaning, Mr. Northam. I don’t want to take charity.”
“You won’t.” Tolley shook his head. “If I can leave it to you without having to think about it, it’ll be worth it.”
She stared at him for a moment, and her formerly bland expression brightened. “I can do that.” She looked around. “You have cleaning supplies?”
“By the back door. If you need anything else, buy it at the mercantile and put it on my tab.” He remembered the eggs he carried. “While you’re at it, please take these to Mrs. Winsted.” He set the basket on the small reception desk.
“I can do that,” she repeated as she started toward the hallway. Her answer to any challenge? If so, he liked it.
“Mrs. Bean, I’m going over to the sheriff’s. If anyone comes in—”
She stopped. Her posture straightened. Her eyes grew bright. “Shall I send them over or have them wait here?”
Tolley considered her for a moment. Could she do more than cleaning, such as being his receptionist every day? She’d look more presentable if she wore her Sunday dress. Would she even want to leave her home and children and be employed all day? He didn’t want to make an impulsive decision only to regret it later, so he’d delay asking her.
“Please ask them to wait.”
“I can do that.”
Tolley grinned to himself. Having a receptionist would surely cause others to see him as a professional man, a lawyer who could be trusted to handle their legal affairs. If he got home before the other boarders, he’d ask Laurie for her opinion on the matter.
Home? Ask Laurie? What strange thoughts. Yet they seemed natural to him.
* * *
Laurie handed the last breakfast plate to her sister Grace to dry. “Thanks for your help. It gets pretty hectic around here.” She dumped the water down the drain and turned the dishpan upside down in the sink, then dried her hands.
“Glad to.” Grace swiped the tea towel over the dish, set it in the cupboard and laid out the towel to dry on the back of a chair. “Micah’s busy working on his Wednesday-night message and sermon for next Sunday. He concentrates best when I’m not buzzing around him like a honeybee.” She grinned. “In fact, when he started calling me honeybee, I realized he was saying—in the nicest way, of course—I was keeping him from work.”
“How funny.” Laurie laughed as she pictured her minister brother-in-law trying to figure out how to tell Grace to leave him to his work without hurting her feelings. “You sure have a sweet husband.” She set a hand on Grace’s rounded belly. To her delight, she felt the baby moving. “Your little one is kicking.”
“Yep.” Grace laughed. “First time it happened, it scared me to pieces. Ma told me it was Micah Junior, wiggling around inside me. I told her it was Grace Junior.” She gave Laurie a sly look. “Our doctor brother-in-law’s going to be pretty busy delivering babies in the coming months.”
“Who else is expecting?”
“Pshaw.” Grace waved away her remark. “Everybody who has eyes can see Rosamond Wakefield is one of ’em. There’s Electra Means.” Her giggle sounded much more girlish than her former hearty guffaws. “Guess who else.”
“I can’t.” Laurie shook her head. Then a memory surfaced, and she squealed. “Maisie? I thought she had a special glow about her.” Their oldest sister had waited a long time for Johnny to come along. Now here came a little brother or sister to join him.
“She sure does.” Grace chuckled.
Laurie sat at the table to shell the peas she’d harvested from the garden earlier, with Grace pitching in to help. Laurie enjoyed her companionship. She hadn’t mentioned the prowler to Mrs. Foster, but Grace listened with interest and concern, saying she and Micah would keep an eye out for any strangers in the neighborhood. And of course they’d pray for everyone’s safety.
Laurie would miss her family when she returned to Denver. Even more, her three older sisters’ happy marriages generated a longing, even an ache in her heart. Would she be able to find a good man among the Denver elite? Many of the gentlemen she’d met were either wealthy snobs, social climbers interested only in her money or nominal church members who didn’t seem to truly know the Lord. And none of them set her heart to racing or even caused a ripple of tender emotion. Although a few attempted to call her by fond names similar to “honeybee,” she hadn’t welcomed such endearments.
Sitting here with Grace in the midmorning peacefulness, a pie in the oven and a chicken stewing on the stovetop for supper, she caught a glimpse of her three married sisters’ lives. They were content. More than content. Truly happy. Why did Laurie feel so strongly she wanted to teach at the conservatory and give concerts to those wealthy people? How could she weigh the contentment her sisters and mother enjoyed against the satisfaction of seeing her students excel and the joy of hearing audiences applaud her piano performances? Home and family meant so much to her. Yet if she never performed, had all her years of music studies been in vain?
“How are you getting along with Tolley?” Grace emptied her bowl of peas into Laurie’s larger one. “Other than chasing off prowlers, is he helping out with chores?”
Laurie shrugged. “As much as one can expect from—” She started to say a spoiled boy, which she and her sisters had jokingly called him over the years. But somehow a man who’d use his own money to install a bathroom for an elderly widow could no longer be called spoiled. “From a man trying to set up a new law practice.”
“I suppose so.” Grace grabbed another handful of peas and began to shell them. “Micah and I are real concerned about his family situation.” She frowned briefly. “We understand he wasn’t allowed to see the Colonel. Pa and Micah both have visited him several times. I wonder why Tolley isn’t allowed to. You know what’s going on?”
Laurie shook her head. “No. I only know it hurt him deeply. But I think he’s dealing with it pretty well.” In truth, she hurt for him, even though he didn’t seem to feel sorry for himself. Tolley’s sudden formality did bother her, but Grace didn’t need to know about it. How else could he protect Laurie from the two grouchy boarders and their rude, unreasonable suggestions of impropriety? For Mrs. Foster’s sake, she’d try to step back from their lifelong friendship.
* * *
Leaving Mrs. Bean to clean his office, Tolley walked next door to the newly remodeled two-story jailhouse, with an apartment for the deputy on the second floor. The first-floor office boasted a large front room, separated from the cells by a wall. Beyond the door, a man hollered, his words indistinguishable. The calm, steady speech of Sheriff Lawson answered, but his words were also muffled.
Curiosity drew Tolley to the closed door the moment the sheriff opened it. Jumping back, Tolley barely missed a broken nose, or least a bloody one.
Lawson blinked in surprise as he came through and closed the door again. “Morning, Tolley. Can
I do something for you?”
Feeling foolish, Tolley return a crooked grin. “Morning, Sheriff. Sounds like an angry prisoner in there.”
Lawson exhaled a blast of air. “Angry probably comes about halfway to describing him.”
“What’s he in for?” With no alcohol permitted in Esperanza’s limits, Tolley assumed the man was a drunk who’d broken town law.
“You don’t know?” The sheriff rubbed a hand against his chest in a seemingly unconscious gesture. “That’s right. You were out of town last December when the Hardison gang came to town. Jud Purvis is in there, the last one around. Hardison and Smith are dead, and two of ’em got away. I doubt they’ll be back.”
Tolley’s legal training brought out his curiosity. “What are the charges against Purvis?”
Again the sheriff’s hand went to his chest. “He gunned me down.”
Tolley drew in a sharp breath and took a step back. “Thank the Lord you’re all right.” He studied the man. “You are all right, aren’t you?”
Lawson clicked his tongue and rubbed his chest again. “Don’t tell my wife this, but the truth is I’ve seen better days. I’m sticking around town only until that varmint has his trial.”
“When’s that?” Tolley could probably learn some important skills from watching the man’s lawyer present his case.
“Sometime in July. The circuit judge had several trials before his, so we have to wait our turn.” The sheriff sat at his desk and invited Tolley to sit opposite him. “Haven’t got a lawyer for this polecat.” He waggled his bushy, graying eyebrows. “You want the job?”
Tolley snorted. “No, thank you, sir. I appreciate your trying to help me start my law practice, but representing a man in a clear case of attempted murder—of a lawman, no less—isn’t the way I want to be known.”
Lawson shrugged. “Purvis claims he’s innocent. To tell the truth, I didn’t see him shoot. My posse and I had ridden out in the hills to hunt the gang. We were ambushed. Deputy Grace and the reverend were too busy saving my life to track him down until several days later, what with the snow and all.”
A myriad of thoughts churned around in Tolley’s mind. Maybe he could work with the sheriff on this after all. “Has anyone taken Purvis’s statement about what happened?”
“Nope. Nobody wants anything to do with him after all the grief that whole gang caused for folks around here.”
“I can see why.” Tolley had his own history with the gang. After his brother Rand killed Hardison’s cousin over a card game in a Del Norte saloon, Hardison came to town to seek revenge and rob the bank. Tolley, Rand and three of the Eberly girls put a stop to the robbery, earning the outlaw’s hatred and promises of revenge. But Purvis hadn’t been a part of that, so surely he didn’t have call to harm anyone around here.
Tolley could foresee some long, boring days ahead if he didn’t find some work to do while the plumbers installed the pipes for Mrs. Foster’s bathroom. “I don’t suppose writing down Purvis’s version of the incident would hurt my reputation, such as it is.” He recalled his law lessons at Harvard. “Tell me why you think Purvis shot you.”
“He and his gang had it in for me. When I was sheriff of a town in Kansas, I arrested him, his twin brother, Jed, and a fella named Heep Skinner for a bank robbery where they shot a teller. They weren’t hanged because the man didn’t die, but they were sent to prison. To a man, they vowed revenge against me and everyone who put them there.” Lawson took a long, slow breath. “When the Colonel hired me as sheriff of Esperanza, I figured it’d be a sleepy little town where I could end my sheriffing days in peace.” He chuckled without mirth. “Turned out Purvis’s and Hardison’s gangs were in cahoots. They all escaped prison and joined forces to get revenge on both me and this town.”
Frowning, the sheriff brushed a hand down his face. “I should’ve asked about your pa. How is he?”
Tolley shrugged. “Doc says he’s starting to take broth, but he’s not fully awake yet.” Good thing he’d seen Doc before coming here so he’d have an answer for anyone asking.
Lawson grunted. “He’s a good man. My wife and I pray for him every day.”
Tolley forced a smile. “Thanks. Me, too.”
The sheriff tilted his head and questioned him with one raised eyebrow. Tolley sighed. He didn’t want the whole town to know his business, but also didn’t want the sheriff to have expectations Tolley might not be able to live up to in regard to his family. And if they planned to work closely together on legal matters, the sheriff should know the truth.
“I’m sure you remember when the Colonel sent me back east.”
The sheriff nodded.
“I don’t think anyone ever saw him as angry as he was with me for, well, for all the mischief I’d caused.” Unwanted emotion rose up to choke Tolley. He leaned back in his chair and forced himself to swallow. “Mother and my brothers agree it’s best for me to stay away until my father recovers.” If he recovered. “I think they’re afraid seeing me might set him back.”
Lawson regarded him for a long time. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know what to say, son.”
Before self-pity could weigh him down, Tolley sat up. “I didn’t come over here to grumble about family matters. You know I’m boarding at Mrs. Foster’s. Last night we had a prowler, and I wanted to report it.”
“Prowler?” The sheriff pulled out an official-looking form and took his pen in hand. “What happened? Did you get a good look at him?”
“He went in the henhouse and left the door and pen gate open. I didn’t see him, but Laurie did.” The memory of her collapsing in fear caused a knot in his chest. If the man had harmed her, Tolley would’ve chased him to the moon and back to make him pay for it. “It was too dark to see which way he went, or I’d have followed him.”
After writing on his form, Lawson stared out the window, a thoughtful expression on his well-lined face. “Maybe some youngster stole eggs or a chicken for food. We’ve got some poor folks around here and plenty of strangers passing through. If they’re hungry enough, some parents won’t think twice about having their youngsters steal food. I suppose they figure a child won’t get punished like an adult would.”
“No doubt about that. But this morning I found some mighty big footprints in the grass, too big for a child.”
“Huh.” The sheriff wrote the rest of the details as Tolley recited them. “I’ll go take a look, and we’ll keep an eye out for anyone who’s suspicious looking. Probably best to tell folks to start locking their doors at night.” He clicked his tongue again. “What a shame this fine town has to lose its innocence. Sad to say, that’s the way things are all over the Wild West.”
“Yessir, I suppose so.” Tolley stood and donned his hat. “I’ll get back to you about taking Purvis’s statement.”
He took his leave of the sheriff and returned to his office. The furniture was dusted and oiled and the floors swept and mopped. The windows sparkled in the sunshine. At the back door, Mrs. Bean swept out the last of the sandy soil. Other than needing more furnishings, the office looked professional.
After thanking her for a job well-done, Tolley said, “Anybody come by?”
“No, sir.” She brushed a handkerchief across her face. “Weekdays are pretty quiet in town.”
“True.” They were also the days when people took care of banking and legal matters. Yet he couldn’t expect people to know about his law practice this soon.
His earlier idea returned. “Mrs. Bean, what would you think of working for me every day?” The woman obviously took pride in her work, so surely she could manage greeting people.
“I can do that. I’ll come in every morning and give the place a once-over. You know how bad the dust is here in the Valley.”
“No, I mean would you like to be my receptionist? Work morning and afternoon, with an hour o
ff for dinner. I’ll pay you—” He quickly calculated a fair-sounding wage. The cowboys at Four Stones Ranch earned twenty dollars a month, plus meals and lodging. She wouldn’t need the latter two. “How does five dollars a week sound?”
Her jaw dropped open, and her brown eyes widened. “Why, I don’t know what to say.” She smiled broadly, then stared down at her dusty dress and sobered. “No offense, Mr. Northam, but you don’t know anything about me. Why do you think I could do the job?”
He appreciated her honesty. “You tell me. Did you ever have a job other than taking care of your family?”
“Yessir. My father owns a store back in Philadelphia, so I worked for him from the time I could stack tins and fold fabric. When Homer came to work as a clerk for Father, I took over the bookkeeping.”
“Sounds good to me.” Tolley noticed her proper grammar, another asset. “If you want the job, it’s yours.”
“Let me speak to Homer about it, and I’ll let you know.”
“You do that.” Satisfied with his morning, Tolley headed back home. He couldn’t wait to tell Laurie his news.
Once again, he realized how well “Laurie” and “home” went together. If George knew how honorable his intentions were, maybe he wouldn’t disapprove of him. Tolley cared for Laurie in a brotherly way as he did for Rosamond, so he could only offer her a marriage of convenience. Should he propose? Or would that ruin everything? Only one way to find out.
Chapter Eight
“You don’t have a thing to worry about, Pa.” Laurie had been up to her elbows in deboning a stewed chicken when her father arrived at the boardinghouse. If she hoped to get all of her work done this morning, she couldn’t sit down to visit with him. “Tolley is a perfect gentleman. You know as well as I do he’s always acted like a brother to us girls.” She returned the chicken bones to the pot along with fresh water to make additional broth and then stoked the fire to bring it all to a boil.
“Brother?” Pa sat at the kitchen table eating a slice of the leftover applesauce cake. “I recall you were mighty fond of him when you were a slip of a girl.”
Cowboy Homecoming Page 10
