Prisoners of Love: Becky

by Callie Hutton

  Miss Nellie smiled as she must have done for many years to get her way. Unfortunately, with Becky sitting alongside her taking up all his attention, her siren’s smile didn’t affect him at all.

  “Marshal Jones arranged for us to stay at the De Vargas hotel down the street. However, when we arrived just now, they had no reservation for us, and they are booked up.”

  What the hell did Miss Nellie think he was going to do? Stomp down to the hotel and demand they throw someone out so they could stay there? Then he realized, as the sheriff, he had a responsibility to see that everyone in his town was safe. Three women living in a wagon would be fair game for any man who happened along.

  He stared out the window, thinking of where they could stay until he could possibly get the mess straightened out. “Miss Priscilla Gentry has a boarding house three streets over. It’s possible she has an opening.”

  Miss Nellie hopped up. “Excellent suggestion, Sheriff. Can the girls stay here while I inquire if there is room for us?”

  He shook his head. “The rain is coming down pretty hard out there right now. I’ll ride over and see if Miss Priscilla is home.” Before he could come to his senses, he walked to the back of the jail then turned right around and came back to face them. “Don’t go near the prisoners.”

  They ladies nodded, and he left the jailhouse through the back door and saddled his horse, Whiskey. With his shirt collar turned up and the brim of his hat pulled down to avoid as much of the rain as he could, he left the stable and headed to Miss Priscilla’s place.

  Leaving the women with the prisoners was not a good idea, but after the incident with Becky, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t go near them. He had no idea what he would do with the three ladies if Miss Priscilla had no room. At least they had their wagon where they could sleep until they could make other arrangements.

  This was just the sort of night he wanted to stay inside. He would have a meal delivered from the café and try to catch up on sleep lost on the trail. Instead, he was sloshing through mud puddles, trying to find a room for three women.

  Miss Priscilla’s boarding house was at the end of a block. He wrapped the reins around the hitching post and took the stairs two at a time. Once he was underneath the porch roof, he took off his hat and slapped it against his leg to get rid of as much water as he could. He rang the doorbell, and after only a minute, Miss Priscilla answered.

  “Good afternoon, Sheriff. I assume you’re just back from your trip? Milton Chalmers did a fine job while you were away.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. “Won’t you come in?”

  Mace shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I’m dripping water. I’ve come to inquire about a room.” At her surprised look, he hurried on. “It’s for three women who just arrived in Santa Fe with the wagon train I traveled on. They were supposed to have a room at the hotel. There was a mix-up and the hotel didn’t reserve a room for them, and they are full.”

  The woman tapped her finger on her chin. “Oh, dear. That is a problem, isn’t it? I don’t have any rooms right now, but Miss Esther and her sister are moving out on Tuesday, and I’ll have a room then. That is, if all three of them don’t mind sharing one room. It is quite spacious.”

  “If you could hold that room for them, I’d appreciate it. I’m sure they can live in their wagon for another few days.”

  “Yes, I’ll be happy to do that, Sheriff. Just have them come around tomorrow after church, and I can show them the room.” She raised her eyebrows. “I assume since you are recommending them that they are upstanding women?”

  Although Miss Nellie had owned a brothel in Dodge City that burned to the ground, he kept the information to himself. She had been a perfect lady since he’d met her. “Yes, ma’am. I can vouch for all three of them.”

  “Perfect. Just send them around tomorrow after church.”

  He nodded and placed his hat back on his head. “Have a good day. I will escort them here tomorrow.”

  Now why did he go and say that? He wanted as little as possible to do with the women, especially Becky, who he was having a hard enough time trying to ignore. Or at least ignore his strong attraction to the woman. After holding her while she cried over the young mother murdered in the robbery holdup, he knew it was in his best interests to avoid her whenever possible. What he wanted from her was impossible.

  Luckily, everything was peaceful and quiet when he returned to the jailhouse. Even though it was a Saturday night, he hoped the bad weather would keep a lot of the usual troublemakers at home. With three dangerous criminals and three women to look after, the last thing he needed was a bunch of drunks to contend with.

  The women sat in a circle talking when he returned. Thankfully, they weren’t anywhere near the prisoners, who had quieted down. “Miss Priscilla has a room for you, but it won’t be available until Tuesday.” He shook as much water as he could off his hat and placed it on a hook by the door.

  “Oh.” Miss Nellie looked at Miss Miranda and Becky. “I’m afraid we will have to sleep in the wagon a few more nights.”

  Shoulders slumped, the other two women stood. “All right. I guess we can do it until Tuesday.” Miss Miranda didn’t look very enthusiastic about the arrangement.

  “I’ll tell you what, ladies. I will take you all to supper at the café.”

  Miss Nellie smiled. “I keep having to thank you, Sheriff. Frankly, I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

  He could only hope that they would be doing without him soon. Once they were set up in the boarding house, he was sure it would not take Miss Nellie long to find husbands for the two young ladies. They were both attractive, of a personable nature, and did not seem too demanding.

  In fact, he thought, with anything but glee, men in Santa Fe would be lining up to marry them. The sooner, the better. Then he could stop thinking about Becky. She would be another man’s wife.

  He no sooner sat at his desk when the door opened, and all three women trooped back into the jailhouse.

  “What now?”

  Miss Nellie stood in front of his desk, her face a picture in misery. “There was a tear in the top of the wagon, and everything inside is soaked. We can’t sleep there.”

  Mace dropped his head into his hands.

  Chapter Six

  “Your wagon is wet?” The sheriff almost groaned out the words.

  Becky glanced uneasily at Miranda and Miss Nellie. The sheriff looked as if he wished them all to perdition. Not that she blamed him. They had been a trial to him since they’d met in Dodge City.

  He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his stomach, and studied them. “All right, this is what we will do. Miss Miranda and Miss Becky will take one of the vacant cells. I need to leave the other two empty for prisoners—which I tend to get a few of on Saturday nights. Miss Nellie, you can take my bed.”

  Miss Nellie’s eyes grew wide, and then she smiled. “Why, Sheriff. I gave that life up some time ago.”

  Becky had no idea that Negroes could blush, but there was a definite red flush under the sheriff’s caramel-colored skin. He shook his head furiously, shooting Becky a guilty glance. “No, no. I mean, I will sleep out here, and you can have my bed. Alone.”

  Miss Nellie burst out laughing. “Sheriff, I’m sorry to tease you, but I couldn’t resist. I knew what you meant; I was just having some fun at your expense.”

  Not looking as though he enjoyed being the butt of her fun, he stood. “Fine. Let’s go get supper. I want to get all of you settled before the saloons start tossing the drunks and brawlers into the streets for me to deal with.”

  The café the sheriff led them to was a good-sized restaurant, serving a considerable crowd, despite the continuous rain. Luckily, it had been a short walk from the jailhouse to the café.

  Mouth-watering smells wafted from the café right to Becky’s nose as soon as they opened the door. The thought of eating a well-cooked meal that she didn’t have to prepare or clean up from raised her spi
rits considerably and made her forget for a little while that they had nowhere decent to sleep for the next few nights.

  The sheriff was apparently well-liked, given the reception he received when they entered. He received many pats on the back and “welcome home” comments.

  Once they had settled into their seats, Miss Nellie leaned her elbow on the table and regarded Sheriff Jensen. “I would say this town is quite fond of you.” She looked around at the few diners who continued to study him, as well as the three women.

  “I think they’re probably wondering if we’re the outlaws you went after,” Becky said.

  He chuckled. “No, Miss Becky. I never bring my prisoners out to supper.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Just like I never suggest anyone have contact with them, either.”

  Good Lord, would he never forget her foolishness? Cussing her red face, she studied the menu on the wall and decided on the meatloaf.

  A slender woman with wide brown eyes and the reddest hair Becky had ever seen approached their table. “Well, howdy there, Sheriff. I thought you would never get back. Milton did an all right job in your place, but I think we all feel safer with you back.”

  “Hi, Aggie, yeah, it’s good to be back.” He waved at the three women. “These ladies are here on a special mission.” He winked at Miss Nellie. “This is Miss Nellie, Miss Miranda, and Miss Becky.”

  The waitress’s eyebrows rose. “A special mission?”

  The sheriff grinned. “Yep. They’re all looking for husbands.”

  Aggie’s eyes grew even wider. “Now why would y’all want to go ahead and do something foolish like that? I had to run my last husband off with a shotgun. The fool man kept taking my money.”

  Since there didn’t appear to be any response to that, they just placed their orders. Aggie poured them all coffee and headed for the kitchen, shaking her head.

  “When are you planning on starting your husband search? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to announce your plans. At least as far as Aggie was concerned.” They all had a laugh over the sheriff’s words.

  “As soon as we can get settled AT Miss Priscilla’s boarding house,” Miss Nellie said.

  “And how do you expect to do this?” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have any idea how these things are done, and I won’t have anything illegal going on in my town.”

  Miss Nellie smiled and shook her head. “No worries, Sheriff. I am quite knowledgeable in how to get men and women together.” She grinned as he shifted in his seat. “But this is very different, of course.” She leaned her elbows on the table and regarded him. “All teasing aside, this is a serious task the marshal has set me to.” She waved at Becky and Miranda. “They deserve the best of men for husbands.”

  “I agree.”

  “Does the town offer dances and other sorts of entertainment that would bring attention to the girls?”

  “It’s not your plan to take out an ad in the newspaper like I see men looking for a mail-order bride do?”

  “No.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I want to do this right. There’s no reason to take a stranger when the girls have an opportunity to meet several men and make up their own minds.”

  “Very noble of you, Miss Nellie.”

  “Yes. Noble, I am.” She gave him a sad smile as the waitress walked up to their table loaded down with plates of food.

  Everything looked wonderful, and Becky couldn’t wait to dig into her meal. She practically groaned when she took a bite of the meatloaf. They all must have been quite hungry because the only conversation that took place were things like “please pass the salt,” or “may I have one of those biscuits?”

  The meal ended with large pieces of dried apple pie. Becky laid her fork down and groaned. “I think I ate enough to keep me for a week.”

  Miss Nellie grinned at her. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing. Unfortunately, we will all be ready to eat again tomorrow.”

  The sheriff stirred his coffee and took a sip. “To answer your question, there is a weekly dance at the community center every Thursday evening. The ladies of the community tried to hold it on Friday and then on Saturday nights, but it was too difficult to get the men away from the card games and saloons so they changed it to Thursday.”

  “A dance? That seems a perfect place to meet some men.” Miss Nellie beamed at her charges.

  Becky’s heart sank to her stomach. The thought of meeting men at a dance terrified her. This idea of finding a husband had been a “sometime in the future” thought, but now Marshal Jones’s plan seemed all too real. “Will you be there, Sheriff?”

  “I attend sometimes. Mostly to make sure everything is peaceful.”

  That calmed her a bit. At least she knew one man in town. Would he dance with her? With any of the ladies? Did he have a special lady he always danced with? That thought disturbed her more than it should have.

  ***

  Once Mace paid the bill, he escorted them out of the café. They left, happy to see the rain had stopped. Already the clouds were breaking up, and sun shone through the spaces.

  “It appears you might be able to drag your things out tomorrow and dry them in the sun,” he said.

  As they made their way down the boardwalk, they gained more than a few curious glances in their direction.

  Of course, three beautiful women would garner a lot of attention, he thought. At one time, Mexican and Indian women were just about the only females to be found in the area. More white women, with their husbands, or young widows from the war, started to find their way to Santa Fe about ten years ago.

  All was quiet at the jailhouse. “Hey, Sheriff, when do we get to eat?” The annoying voice of the eldest Finnegan grated on him as they entered.

  “When I have the time,” he growled.

  Becky looked between him and the men. “I can fetch food for them.”

  He didn’t want her doing anything for these men. After the way Bobby had treated her, he expected she wouldn’t want to grant him any favors. Just one more way she showed him how caring she was.

  Glancing at the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk that he needed to get caught up on before he would be able to make his usual Saturday night rounds, he shrugged. “I don’t see why you’d want to, but since you do, you have to go now. Things will start to heat up in a couple of hours, and I don’t want you out on the streets.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill. “Get them supper at the café. If I had thought about it, I could have brought it with us. Tell Aggie it’s for the prisoners. She knows what to send.”

  Once Becky left, Miss Nellie said, “Should we leave the wagon out front?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’ll drive it around back, unhitch your animals, and get them fed and watered. Then you can go through your things and get settled in for the night. There’s a small lean-to where I keep my horse and a small space next to it where I can park the wagon.”

  Lord, he would never get his paperwork finished at this rate. Why had he ended up with these three women around his neck? He shoved his hat back on and headed outside. The mules looked ready to drop as he climbed up onto the wagon seat. He steered the animals through the narrow alleyway between the jail and the blacksmith.

  By the time he’d unhitched the animals, brushed them down, fed them, and returned to the jail through the back door, Becky was just returning from the café, a basket covered with a cloth napkin over her arm. His heart lifted at the sight. Then he frowned at his response to her.

  “Is this all right, Sheriff?” She held the basket out, concerned written on her pretty face. She must have taken his frown as displeasure toward her.

  “Yes, that is just fine, Becky.” He took the basket from her and walked to the cell where the Finnegan brothers were. “Here’s your supper, and I don’t want to hear from you for the rest of the night.” He spoke as he unlocked the cell and handed the basket through.

  “What about our hands? They’re still tied.�
�� Bobby held out his hands.

  “And tied they will stay until the judge arrives for your trial.” He slammed the cell door, rattled the bars to make sure it was locked, and returned to the front of the jail.

  “Sheriff, don’t you think it would be a kindness to untie their hands?” Becky’s sweet upturned face was like a punch to the gut. He rubbed his palm over his short hair. “I guess I could do that. I’m just amazed at how you hold no grudges for what these scoundrels did to you.”

  After grudgingly untying their hands, he tossed his hat on the hook. “Ladies, you can fuss with your wagon, now.” He waved to the pile of papers on his desk. “I have a lot of work to do before I can start my Saturday night rounds.”

  “Thank you.” Miss Nellie linked her arm through Miss Miranda’s, and they headed toward the back door. Becky held back, eying his desk.

  “Um, Sheriff, I used to do a lot of paperwork for Dr. Snodgrass. You know, ordering supplies, keeping track of the cash coming in, and stuff. I could help you with that.” She pointed to the pile.

  The best way she could help him was to find herself a husband as quickly as possible and settle down on one of the ranches in the valley. After that, only coming to town with her husband and the passel of kids she would no doubt have one day. That way he could stop thinking about her and wouldn’t have to continue telling himself that being husband to her was not in the cards.

  Hell. He had a better chance of being dealt a royal flush. On the other hand, if she waded through the pile of wanted posters, telegrams, and other notices that had accumulated under Melvin’s watch, he could start his rounds. He’d had a running argument with his deputy that his job when he was in charge was more than just marching around town, looking important.

  “All right. That would be a help. Let me show you a few things.”

  The next half hour was spent making a pile of wanted posters, a pile of telegrams relating information on outlaws caught, and a pile of letters from lawyers and judges that needed to be answered. That he had to do, but Becky was certainly bright enough to match telegrams with posters and then hang up the still wanted posters, then file away the no longer wanted batch.