In the Sheriff's Protection

by Lauri Robinson

  “No,” Tom answered, stepping away from the table as Brett escorted Hugh through the doorway.

  “I’ll stop over at your place later. Maybe we can jog your memory, make you remember something, anything, that might help this case before the judge calls the court back in session tomorrow morning.”

  Although Tom knew that wouldn’t happen, he nodded to Josiah as they walked across the room.

  Before they reached the door, Angus O’Leary stepped through the opening. “Hello, gentlemen.”

  “Hello, Angus,” Tom replied.

  With a grin that was even wider than usual, Angus said, “Just the men I was looking for.”

  Tom attempted to step around the old man, but then a sixth sense had him grasping Angus’s forearm. Cautious, because he hadn’t told anyone, Tom chose his words carefully. “Did anyone get off the train today?”

  The twinkle in Angus’s eye had Tom holding his breath at the flare of excitement deep inside him. The only other person who knew what Sheriff Puddicombe’s telegram had said was Teddy White. Though Teddy also owned the newspaper and was dedicated to his profession, he was just as dedicated to holding back information that no one else needed to be privy to.

  With a nod toward the front of the room, where Judge Alfords was reading through the testimonies that Abigail White had been assigned to write, word for word, each and every day, Angus lowered his voice. “We need to talk. The three of us. Now.”

  Abigail had been given the task because, as Teddy’s sister and the newspaper’s writer-reporter, she could write faster than people could talk, ensuring not a single word would be missed. The judge reviewed her report after each session. Tom didn’t know if that was to make certain she hadn’t missed anything or for the judge to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. One thing was clear: although her attitude had changed somewhat since Teddy had gotten married and had a baby last Christmas, Abigail was not known for keeping secrets of any kind.

  “Let’s go to my office,” Josiah said.

  Tom held back, waiting for Angus to follow Josiah out the door. Then, while the other man was a few steps ahead of them, he asked Angus, “Did someone get off the train today?”

  “Never fear, Sheriff. All are safe when Angus O’Leary is near.”

  A shiver had the hair on Tom’s arms standing on end. He liked straight-out answers, not riddles, but he also knew Angus. The old man wasn’t going to say anything more until they were behind closed doors.

  That happened relatively quickly, considering Josiah’s office was only a short walk up the street, and once behind closed doors, when Tom discovered Clara was right next door, at Rollie’s Hotel, he almost shot right back out the door. Would have if Angus and Josiah hadn’t stopped him.

  “Just sit down, Sheriff, and let me tell you what I think,” Angus said.

  “I don’t have time—”

  “In this instance, you need to make the time,” Angus said. “Because if you don’t, none of this will end up as it should.”

  Flustered, Tom wrenched off his hat in order to scratch his tingling scalp. Needing to know if Clara was all right, how she looked, had his entire body itching to move. Huffing out a breath, he said, “Stop talking in riddles, Angus, and tell us what you know.”

  “As I said, I arranged for a room for her and her son,” Angus said. “Poor little lass is down to her last few pennies.”

  “I’ll pay for the room,” Tom said, digging in his pocket.

  “That’s not what I’m saying, Sheriff,” Angus said. “I don’t want your money. Furthermore, you can’t pay for her room.”

  Tom opened his mouth to argue, but Angus pointed his cane at him. “If you do that, that too-smart-for-his-own-good lawyer will try to convince the judge you’ve been hiding her out the entire time, waiting until the end of the trial to bring her in as a witness. And that could put anything she has to say in jeopardy.”

  Josiah, who’d been extraordinarily quiet until then, said, “He’s right, Tom. In fact, if Baldwin gets wind that Wilson’s wife is in town, and that we know about it, he’ll accuse us of withholding witnesses, evidence.”

  Growing more agitated, Tom paced the floor. “We don’t know she’s here to testify. She didn’t say that.” Questioning if he’d missed Angus mentioning that, Tom asked, “Did she?”

  “No,” Angus answered. “If she’d tried, I’d have stopped her. All she told me was that she was here to see the sheriff.”

  Tom’s heart skipped a beat. “She’s—”

  “There’s no other reason for her to be here,” Josiah said, rubbing his chin. “And we need to think through what we are going to do about it.”

  “There’s nothing to think about,” Tom said. “She doesn’t know—”

  “Sit down, Tom. Maybe that’ll help your thinking,” Josiah said.

  “My thinking? There’s nothing wrong—”

  A sting on his shin had him spinning about to look at Angus, whose cane had just whacked his leg. Angus patted the seat of the long sofa he sat on.

  “Right now, the only person who knows who she is is me,” Angus said. “Wayne knows a woman and child arrived. So does Rollie, but they don’t know her name. I told her she could use my room, as I’ve been known to do a time or two when I see a down-on-their-luck traveler.”

  That much was true. Angus considered himself a one-man welcoming committee, yet Tom couldn’t see the justification of the secrecy the other two seemed to be so intent upon.

  “Having met her while chasing down that thief has made you unable to see the forest for the trees.”

  Tom shook his head at Angus’s latest riddle.

  “I agree,” Josiah said. “From the moment that robbed train rolled into town and we learned of the misdeed, you’ve insisted that the law settle this entire escapade, Tom, and I agreed. Still do.” Josiah slapped a hand on his desk. “I’ve built this town. When I said I’d bring in twelve mail-order brides, I did it. And if I say I’ll bring in a dozen more, I’ll do that, too. So when I said we’ll see that robber put away, I meant it, and that’s exactly what we are going to do.”

  Josiah stood and scratched the side of a jowl as he walked around his desk. “You might think she doesn’t know anything, but she might. Things she didn’t want you to know.”

  A few things the other two had said had Tom thinking, and realizing he might be too close, too involved, to clearly see all aspects. But Clara didn’t know anything. She was too intent on not knowing anything Hugh did. Just so she wouldn’t have to admit any of it to Billy. However, only a short time ago, he’d been questioning if someone else had forced her to come to town. That could be the case. He didn’t want to admit it, but it could be.

  “Now, as I see it, we, especially Tom and I, can’t have anything to do with this situation.” Josiah pronounced situation as if it was an obscurity. “The fact that a woman got off the train today is an insignificant piece of information that doesn’t matter to us at all.”

  Looking directly at Angus, Josiah said, “In fact, when she walks into the trial tomorrow, simply because she heard it was taking place, no one even notices her. She is the one who asks the judge if she can speak. Offer whatever information she may have. None of us know anything about it or her.”

  A smile formed on Josiah’s face. “Then, when she states her name, we can claim the other side was hiding witnesses.” A frown then appeared. “I wish you would have taken her somewhere else besides the hotel, Angus. Your house, perhaps. Maybe you could—”

  “I live at the hotel, Josiah,” Angus pointed out.

  “Oh, that’s right. You do,” Josiah said. “My concern is that Baldwin and Judge Alfords are both staying at the hotel, too.”

  Tom was listening, but his mind was on Clara. He couldn’t pretend she wasn’t in town. Couldn’t pretend to not recognize her if she walked into the courtroom.

&
nbsp; “If I’d taken her anywhere else, more people would know she’s here,” Angus said. “I told her to stay in my room. The boy, too. He was so worn-out from all their travels, the poor little lad fell asleep as soon as his belly was full and his mama had scrubbed him clean.”

  Tom tried not to let anything show. Clara had to be just as exhausted. Just keeping up with Billy had worn him out those first few days while she’d been ill. That boy could buzz circles around bees.

  “All right,” Josiah said. “Keep her there, and the boy. Until tomorrow morning. We just have to hope that Rollie or Wayne don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “They won’t,” Angus said. “They’re both too worried about their wives and the babies they’re carrying to care about anything else. They’re only attending the trials to get their minds off their wives for a while. If you ask either of them, they probably can’t tell you a thing that’s been said in that courtroom.”

  Tom didn’t believe that, but he did agree that both Rollie and Wayne were keeping close tabs on their wives. Just as he would if—

  Tom shot off the sofa, startling the other men as much as the route of his thoughts had startled him.

  “Did you remember something?” Josiah asked, looking hopeful.

  “No,” Tom said. Then, trying to come up with something to explain his actions, he said, “But Angus needs to go out the back door. We don’t want anyone knowing he’s been in here talking to us so long.”

  “I agree,” Josiah said. “Now, we all just have to hope that Wilson’s wife is here on our behalf and not his.”

  Chapter Ten

  She’d had some long nights in her life, long, scary, lonely and downright frightful, but Clara had never not slept a wink. Trying to justify why that had happened, she told herself it was because she’d taken a nap after Angus had kindly escorted her and Billy into his hotel room—rooms, actually, since he lived here. He had a small sitting room adjacent to the bedroom hosting the bed she and Billy had spent the night in.

  The past several days had been long, and sleepless, for both her and Billy. She hadn’t realized how tired he’d been. After eating and taking a bath yesterday afternoon, he’d climbed upon the bed and had yet to wake. A smile tugged at her lips at how he’d been amazed at the bathtub, and how he’d said taking a bath that way wasn’t so bad. She’d agreed. If there wasn’t so much on her mind, she might have enjoyed the bath she’d taken a bit longer.

  Turning from the window that showed a sky turning shades of pink from the morning sun, she glanced at the bed and her still sleeping son. She’d been exhausted, too. Still was, but her nerves wouldn’t let her sleep any more than they’d let her relax in the tub.

  She wanted to see Tom so badly, like a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied. But she knew she couldn’t, and that had her twisted in knots.

  Upon his arrival last evening, Angus, bearing a tray of food, had asked her to once again dine with him. Their conversation had been interesting, and confusing at the same time. Angus had a way of talking in riddles almost. Saying things that had hidden meanings. Silently, but with exaggerated hand gestures and expressions, he’d encouraged her to explain what she thought he’d been trying to say, without actually saying it.

  It was so confusing and frustrating. At times, not knowing what he was trying to get across had made her head pound, but eventually, it all became crystal clear.

  No one could know she was here. Not until she walked into the courtroom and asked permission to speak to the judge. Angus didn’t want to know why she was here or what information she wanted the judge to know about. She could relate. She’d spent the last eight years not wanting to know. And was now aware of how frustrating that could be to others.

  Not knowing.

  She also now hated the position that had put her in.

  Angus, in his not-so-subtle I-can’t-tell-you-so-figure-it-out-but-don’t-tell-me way, had also relayed that she wasn’t to have anything to do with Tom. Not look at. Not talk to. Not even slightly acknowledge they knew one another. She couldn’t blame Tom for wanting that. He was a sheriff. She was an outlaw’s wife.

  She closed her eyes tightly and held her breath at the tears that burned and fought to be released. That was part of why she was so exhausted. All this fighting happening inside her. Once this trial was over, and Hugh was sent to prison—oh, how she prayed that would be the outcome—she would head straight home and never, ever leave her house again. Life had been easy there compared to this.

  There she’d only ever had to worry about Hugh riding up the road. Since leaving she’d had to worry about every person she’d encountered.

  “Up already?”

  She wiped the moisture off her lashes before turning about. Dressed in his elegant three-piece suit, Angus was peeking through a crack in the door. He, everything about him, made her smile. She crossed the room and pulled the door open. Pointing toward the top hat on his head, she whispered, “Do you sleep in that?”

  Frowning, he touched his hat. “This? Heavens no, lass. That would damage it beyond repair. Furthermore, this hat is brown.” He then smoothed the sides of his jacket over his sides. “And, if you care to notice, this suit is brown as well. I wore a black one yesterday.” With a grin, he plucked the handkerchief from his breast pocket. “This one is yellow—gold, actually. Yesterday’s was red.”

  “Forgive my lack of attention to detail,” she said with a nod. “I had not noticed. I do apologize.”

  “No harm done.” With a wink, he continued to whisper, “Tomorrow’s will be blue.” Stuffing the handkerchief back in the pocket, he added, “And white.”

  “Oh, Mr. O’Leary, I shall never forget you.”

  With another one of his elegant bows, he said, “Nor I you, lass.” Straightening, he gestured into the sitting room. “May I have a word with you this fine morning? Where we won’t disturb the young lad?”

  “Certainly.” She stepped into the other room and pulled the door shut. “I can’t believe he’s still sleeping.”

  “It’ll take him time to catch up on all the sleep he’s lost, I’m sure.”

  “But when he does...” She shook her head while glancing around the room and stopping when her insides flinched. Billy wouldn’t be confined to this room today. He would be in a courtroom, where his father was on trial. Sickened by the thoughts, she grasped the back of the chair pushed up to the small table in the center of the room.

  “I’ve a favor to ask of you, lass,” Angus said.

  “A favor of me?” She shook her head. There was a tiny sofa near the window, barely as long as she was tall, yet last night, Angus had insisted that it was perfectly large enough for him to sleep upon. “You’ve already done more favors for me than I’ll ever be able to repay.”

  “Oh, lass, life isn’t about repaying favors. It’s about doing them.”

  His ability to make her smile was uncanny. “Whatever it is, Mr. O’Leary, I will gratefully grant your favor.”

  “I’m thinking the young lad there doesn’t need to attend any functions that may be on your agenda this fine day. With that in mind, I’d like your permission, your favor, to ask Mrs. Blackwell, Fiona Blackwell, if the lad Billy could spend the day at her lovely home, romping and roaming and chasing bullfrogs with her two fine lads, Rhett and Wyatt.”

  Although grateful at the prospect, Clara was about to claim she couldn’t put anyone out of their way, especially not knowing how Billy might behave, when Angus raised a hand.

  “Now, before you decline, lass, let me assure you that Fiona is married to Brett, the blacksmith, who is so big he makes Wayne’s dog, Bear, look like a newborn pup, and Fiona knows a thing or two about raising lads. Little intimidates her. Brett’s size doesn’t even scare her, and he’s scared a lot of people in his days.”

  “Mr. O’Leary, I wish I could, but Billy...” She glanced toward the bedroom. She certa
inly didn’t want Billy in the courtroom with her, but at the same time—“He’s never spent any time away from me.” A fraction of a thought made her recall there had been four days when she’d been ill, and though not away from her, Billy had spent that entire time with Tom.

  “Then don’t you think it’s about time, lass?” Angus said. “Nothing grows as well under a tree as it does in sunshine.”

  As she was searching the hidden meaning in that idiom, Angus leveled a pleading look upon her.

  “Please, lass, it’s the only favor I’ll ask of you.”

  She huffed out a breath, only because she had to force herself not to laugh at his antics. “You know I can’t say no to you, don’t you?”

  “No, lass, but I can hope.” He patted the hand she still had on the back of the chair. “I’ll be gone for a while now. Need my morning shave. And then I’ll pop over and talk to Fiona.”

  He then pulled a cloth off the top of a tray sitting on the table that she hadn’t even noticed. Stunned, she could barely look away from the muffins, boiled eggs and assorted tiny bowls of jams.

  “I took the liberty of seeing you had some breakfast. The tea’s still hot and the milk’s still cold. See that you and the lad eat it all while I’m gone.”

  He was already at the door, and before he opened, she asked, “Mr. O’Leary, are you—?” She glanced at the food and then back at him as stories her mother used to share when she was a young child popped into her head. “Are you some sort of leprechaun?” Glancing between him and the food again, she added, “A big one, with more magic?” How else could he have done all this, getting dressed, the food, without her hearing him? Even with the door closed, she’d certainly heard his snores last night.

  His laughter was soft and musical and filled the room. “Aw, lass. I’m no leprechaun. Just an old Irishman.” Then before he slipped out the door, he whispered, “But the world is full of magic, lass. If you go looking for it, you’ll find it.”

  * * *

  Tom was up early, and had to force himself not to go to the hotel. He’d tried to convince himself it was just for breakfast, but the smarter, more rational and levelheaded man inside him couldn’t be convinced. That had to be the lawman part of him. The part that knew a lie when he heard one. Even a silent one coming from within.