“Sounds pretty straightforward.” Jedidiah poured himself a glass of buttermilk. “So why is she going to Denver?”
“Caldwell’s relatives are rich folks—own Caldwell Mining and Ore out of Denver. And his uncle is Senator Morris Caldwell. The governor personally asked that Miss Calhoun be extradited to Denver for trial so they can attend.”
Jedidiah’s lips twisted. “Politics.”
“Yeah.” Benning sopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of bread. “I wish I could do something for that gal. She claims Caldwell was trying to force her into his bed, and I believe her. Maybe they’ll rule it as self-defense.”
“But Miss Calhoun claims she didn’t kill Caldwell at all, not that she did it in self-defense,” Jedidiah pointed out.
Benning’s expression turned grim. “Unless another suspect comes into the picture, that gal's in big trouble. I’ve got a feeling Caldwell’s family means to see her hang.”
A vision of Susannah swinging from a rope made the chicken stick in Jedidiah’s throat. He forced himself to swallow. “You may be right,” he murmured.
“Funny about that housekeeper, though,” Benning said a moment later. “Miss Calhoun swears that Abigail Hawkins was there when she left that night.”
Jedidiah put down the chicken leg. “What?”
“Miss Calhoun says that Mrs. Hawkins was still there when she left that night. Can’t see how that could be, since the witness saw Mrs. Hawkins leave the Caldwell place at seven o’clock.”
“What did Mrs. Hawkins have to say?”
“Just what the witness said. That she left at seven, like always. I’ve crossed her off the list of suspects.”
“Already?”
“She was real upset, seeing as how she found the body,” Benning said. “Since there’s a witness to back up her story, I let her go. She left town the next morning.”
“Where’d she go?”
“To a friend’s house in over in Placerville. She said she wanted to take a few days before looking for work somewhere else. Can’t say as I blame her.”
“Do you have the friend’s name?”
Benning glared. “Of course I do. What’s with all the questions, Marshal Brown? I know how to do my job.”
"No offense meant, Sheriff." Jedidiah managed a smile. "I'm a lawman, too, and I tend to be curious."
The sheriff relaxed his stiff posture. “All right then. When are you fixing to leave for Denver?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll see that Miss Calhoun is ready.”
“I’d appreciate it.” The conversation drifted into more neutral topics, and Jedidiah laughed in all the right places and kept a smile on his face. But all through the evening, one thought played over and over in his mind.
Why hadn’t she told him about the housekeeper?
Chapter Three
Susannah didn’t see Jedidiah again that night, nor did he wander into the jailhouse to annoy her the next morning. She was beginning to think she had imagined him.
In between visitors, she passed the day by flirting with Joe Horner, the deputy who sat in the outer office. Joe was a homely creature, and he blushed like a schoolboy whenever she teased him. Her plan was to distract him enough that she could lift the keys from his belt. Unfortunately, his shyness made him keep his distance from the cell.
She felt only the tiniest bit guilty for using his infatuation with her, since this was a matter of life and death—hers.
The only person who could clear her name was Abigail Hawkins, and for some reason the woman had lied to the sheriff. Either she had killed Brick herself, or else she had seen the real murderer. Why else would she have left town like that? Susannah intended to find the woman, one way or another, and get the truth from her.
And obviously, she would do so alone.
As she packed her belongings in the small carpetbag the sheriff had brought for her trip to Denver, she tried not to resent Jedidiah for not believing her. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve her resentment—he did. But she was a firm believer in not wasting emotion on useless causes, and Jedidiah Brown was the most useless cause she had ever encountered. He didn’t deserve an ounce of her attention. He was beneath her. If he thought she would murder a man in cold blood, then he didn’t know her at all.
Susannah wasn’t certain which hurt more, the fact that he didn’t know her at all, or the fact that he hadn’t even tried to get to know her better.
She closed the carpetbag with a decisive snap. It certainly wasn’t the first time a man had shown interest in her attractive outside without making an effort to get to know the person on the inside. Indeed, it was the story of her life. But for some reason, she had thought Jedidiah would be different. And he just kept disappointing her.
“Going somewhere, Miss Calhoun?”
She looked up at the unfamiliar voice. A beefy, broad-shouldered man stood just outside her cell, with three other men standing behind him. His clothes were store-bought and tailored, and he wore a gold watch and a thick gold pinky ring. His boots were shiny and unscuffed.
Money, was her first thought. This fellow had a lot of it.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
The man laughed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. His small eyes narrowed above his bulbous nose as he gave her a toothy smile. “You may not know me, but you know my family. I’m Wayne Caldwell, Brick’s brother.”
Susannah stiffened. “I’m sorry about your brother, Mr. Caldwell.”
“You ought to be sorry, you two-bit whore, since you killed him!”
Protestations of innocence died unspoken on her tongue. “That’s to be determined by a trial.”
“I heard all about how my uncle is having you hauled back to Denver.” He gripped the bars of her cell so tightly that she took a step back, half expecting him to bend them. “I’m not as patient as the rest of my family, sweetheart. I just want to see you hang.”
His hostility was a live thing that threatened to choke her. Fear rose up, but she hid it behind a calm expression. She’d seen his kind before. Men like him thrived on the dread they inspired in others.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Caldwell, but the law says I have to be tried before I can be hanged.”
“Not my law.” He signaled to one of his men, who came forward and slipped a key in the lock of the cell door.
The little snick of the door unlocking made her heart freeze in her breast. Then it pounded faster as terror shrieked through her veins. “What are you doing? Where’s Deputy Horner?”
“He had a little accident.” Wayne Caldwell opened the cell door and reached for her. “Just like you’re going to.”
She was going to die. She calculated the three-to-one odds as meaty hands gripped her arms and dragged her out of the cell. Unarmed, she had no chance of defending herself against them.
But at least she would go down fighting.
Jedidiah rode back into Silver Flats with a frown on his face. He didn’t like the smell of things, not one bit.
He had wormed the address of Brick Caldwell’s former housekeeper out of the sheriff and ridden over to have a talk with the woman who ran the boardinghouse where Mrs. Hawkins had lived. But Harriet Coleman hadn’t been able to help him much. She had stated that Mrs. Hawkins had been agitated and in a hurry to leave Silver Flats. As soon as she had gotten the okay from the sheriff, she had lit out for Placerville to visit with her friend, Mrs. Rachelle Jenkins, before seeking new employment.
That was all he had been able to get out of her, and it was basically the same information the sheriff had given him.
Nothing was adding up the way it should. Susannah had insisted Abigail Hawkins had been present the night she had had supper with Brick Caldwell. Yet Mrs. Hawkins had testified that she had gone home hours before that incident, and her story had been verified by a witness. But the woman had been extremely jumpy during the investigation, and then she had lit out of town like the place was on fire. Perhaps it was
simply the horror of finding her employer murdered that had upset her so, but Jedidiah had a feeling it was more than that.
He reined in outside the sheriff’s office and tied up his horse, then entered the jailhouse to question Susannah about her side of the story. A groan drew his attention, and all thoughts of Mrs. Hawkins fled his mind when he saw a pair of booted feet sticking out from behind the desk.
Drawing his Colt, he knelt on the floor beside the fallen Deputy Horner. The man been hit over the head, but it looked like he was coming around.
“I’m not going to make it easy for you!” he heard Susannah shout from the jail area.
There was a thud and then a screech. Jedidiah leaped to his feet and pressed himself against the wall next to the jailhouse door. Cautiously, he peered into the room.
Susannah’s cell stood open, and three men were trying to subdue the enraged woman, who wielded her carpetbag like a weapon. She swung the bag at one man’s head, then bit the hand of another who tried to grab her. A fourth man, dressed more richly than the other three, called out orders.
“Grab her, Clem! Goddammit, she’s only a woman!”
“She’s slippery,” the man complained.
“She’s a goddamn whore,” the one in charge growled. “And she’s gonna hang for killing my baby brother.”
Jedidiah slipped through the doorway and aimed his gun at the fancy-dressed fellow. “Let the lady go, boys.”
All heads turned toward him. The expression of surprise on the faces of the men holding Susannah would have been comical in a less critical situation. Susannah herself cast him a look of profound relief, then kicked one of her assailants in the leg, forcing him to release her arm to grab his own injured limb. The fellow holding her other arm followed suit before she could maim him. Head held high, Susannah marched over to stand beside Jedidiah.
“Don’t just stand there,” she hissed. “Shoot them!”
“Hush,” was all he said, but the tone of it had her shutting her mouth and folding her arms across her chest. He never took his eyes from the four men across the room.
“Who the hell are you?” demanded the big fellow who was obviously the leader of the group.
“U.S. Marshal Jedidiah Brown,” Jedidiah responded. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Caldwell. Wayne Caldwell.”
“A relation to Brick Caldwell, I assume?”
Caldwell puffed out his chest. “He was my brother.”
“I see.” Jedidiah looked from one man to the other, his gaze finally coming to rest on Caldwell once more. “Would you care to explain what’s going on here?”
“Justice,” Caldwell snarled.
“Justice? You consider four men against one woman to be justice?”
“That murdering bitch killed my brother in cold blood,” Caldwell roared, pointing a finger at Susannah. “I mean to see that she pays for what she did.”
Jedidiah stepped in front of Susannah. “That’s the law’s job, Mr. Caldwell.”
“Then how come the law’s not doing its job? How come my brother’s killer is still alive?”
Jedidiah softened his voice. “Mr. Caldwell, I know you’re grieving, but this isn’t the way to see that justice is served. Why don’t you and your men go on home, and we’ll just forget this little incident.”
Caldwell scowled and hesitated. There was a long moment of silence while Jedidiah held Caldwell’s gaze. Then the other man looked away, obviously realizing the wisdom in letting the matter drop. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll go on home. But I’ll see you in Denver.” He again pointed at Susannah, his narrowed eyes gleaming with hate. “And I’ll wear my Sunday clothes to your hanging!”
Susannah stayed behind Jedidiah as Caldwell and his men passed by. Once they heard the door slam behind them, Jedidiah turned to face her.
“You’re just a magnet for trouble, aren’t you?”
She gaped. “Surely you’re not blaming me for this?”
He took her chin in his hand and studied her face. “A woman as beautiful as you makes a man do crazy things. Did they hurt you?”
“No.” She stepped back, and his hand dropped to his side. “So you are blaming me. How typical.”
“There’s nothing typical about me, princess. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”
She gave him a haughty look that seemed to suit her exotic features. “On the contrary, Marshal Brown, I find you utterly typical.”
He chuckled. “Don’t make me prove you wrong. You might like it a little too much.”
“Savage!” She dismissed him with a look. “I see your manners haven’t improved over the past few months.”
“And I see you’re just as spoiled and conceited as ever.”
She made a sound halfway between a squeak and a scream. “Spoiled? Conceited?”
“Exactly.” Sliding his pistol back into the holster, he took her arm and pulled her toward the empty cell. “Time to go back in your cage, Miss Calhoun.”
She dug in her heels, but he managed to shove her into the cell and slam the door. She surged forward, gripping the bars as he grabbed the keys off the wall and locked the cell. “Is this how you treat all your prisoners, Marshal? I’m surprised they haven’t arrested you yet!”
“No, princess, you’re a special case.”
“I’m so flattered,” she said with biting sarcasm.
“You ought to be,” he replied. “You’re lucky I don’t tan your hide for holding out on me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jedidiah leaned close to the bars. “Why didn’t you tell me about Mrs. Hawkins?”
She stiffened. “What about her?”
“Sheriff Benning says that you told him that Mrs. Hawkins was there the night you had supper with Caldwell. Is that true?”
“What does it matter?” she retorted. “The sheriff has a witness who says otherwise. And what’s the word of a suspected killer against a reliable witness?”
“You should have told me.”
“Why?” she shot back. “So that you could accuse me of making up stories to save my skin? I’d do better without your help, Marshal Brown.”
“Let me tell you something, princess,” he said softly. “Right now, I’m the best friend you have in the world.”
“Then I’m in worse trouble than I thought.”
He stared at her for a long time. “I don’t know why I waste my time with you. If it weren’t for your sister…”
“Feel free to leave any time, Marshal,” she said, her eyes icy with disdain.
“I will leave…when I take you to Denver.” He turned toward the office, where faint sounds of movement told him that Deputy Horner was regaining consciousness.
“And when will that be?” she called after him.
He didn’t even glance over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know.”
Susannah waited, but though voices drifted back to the jail, Jedidiah didn’t return.
She stared out the window at the setting sun, still shaken by the encounter with Caldwell. If Jedidiah hadn’t returned when he did, she knew she would have been dangling from a tree somewhere, trial be damned. She raised a hand to her throat, fully aware that only chance—and Jedidiah Brown—had saved her from a hangman’s noose.
Or had her execution merely been delayed?
She had no choice; she had to escape tonight.
Caldwell would return, she had no doubt about that. And he would bring more men with him next time. She had no intention of being there when he did.
She looked down at the keys in her hand, the keys she had picked up off the floor during the struggle. The keys she had slipped into her bodice to hide from Jedidiah.
These were the keys to her freedom. And later that night, as the town slept, she would use them.
Jedidiah had planned to take Susannah on the stage to Colorado Springs, and from there catch the train to Denver. Now that Wayne Caldwell had entered the picture, he di
scarded that plan.
Wayne had shown some smarts by backing off, but Jedidiah knew he’d be back. His kind always came back. The trick was to get Susannah out of town before Caldwell regrouped.
Jedidiah yanked on the straps of his saddlebags, double checking that all his gear was secure and buckled tight. His Palomino stood patiently, used to such behavior. A second horse, a sturdy little paint he had picked up for a decent price from a miner passing through, waited nearby, saddled and ready to go. After Jedidiah finished, he led both horses out of the livery and into the night.
Trains and stages ran on schedules. They were predictable and could be intercepted. But two people on horseback, picking their own winding trail to Denver, would be a lot harder to track.
He’d already spoken to Benning about his plan to leave in the middle of the night and gotten his agreement. He only hoped Susannah didn’t give him any trouble. If she did, he’d be forced to bind and gag her, and darned if part of him wouldn’t enjoy the experience. The woman had a mouth on her that could bring a man the utmost pleasure or tear him to ribbons. Unfortunately, she seemed oblivious to the first and far too inclined to the second.
He left the horses tied up behind the dry goods store and crept over to the jail, keeping to the shadows. He wouldn’t put it past Caldwell to have a man watching the jailhouse.
It’s what he would have done.
The creak of a door made him freeze in the shadow of the building. He drew his gun and watched as a figure slipped out of the sheriff’s office. The person was too small to be Deputy Horner or Sheriff Benning, and it certainly wasn’t Caldwell.
The swish of a skirt reached his ears. Jedidiah muttered a curse and shoved his gun back in its holster. He reached into his pocket, then stepped out in front of the obviously feminine figure. Her perfume reached him before she did, the sweetness of jasmine sprinkled with a hint of spice.
The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 Page 3
