Mason turned back to Baxter. “What’s the boy’s name?”
“I don’t know. He just showed up asking if the train with the orphans had arrived yet, and I sent him upstairs to wait.”
It had to be Jakob.
“Did you tell him the orphans were in Evans Grove?” Mason demanded.
“Not exactly,” Baxter sniveled. “I still expected them to come here.”
Mason’s gaze narrowed. “Because of the fire?” When the sheriff got angry, he could be terrifying.
Baxter blanched and then rallied. “You can’t prove I was anywhere near that fire. I left last night on the stage, like I told Reed.”
“Too bad you didn’t tell the hotel clerk. He said you stayed over.”
“I saw you in the dining room,” Wyatt prodded, hoping to get Baxter to admit what they’d already learned from the hotel’s dining staff. “You were talking to someone. Who?”
“Who I dine with is none of your business.”
“It is when you’re involved with a crime.” Mason’s jaw tensed. “What did you and Miss Ward discuss?”
Baxter visibly shrank. “Nothing important. She just didn’t want the orphans to stay in Evans Grove.”
“And you figured you could help her.” Mason glared. “Did she suggest you burn down the school?”
“I told you. It must have been an accident. I wasn’t anywhere near that building.”
That’s when Mason pulled the ace from his pocket. He turned over the watchcase so Baxter could see the initials. “We found your watch next to the schoolhouse steps.”
Baxter sputtered. “I—I must have set it down and someone stole it. That’s who dropped it there.”
Wyatt knew a flimsy excuse when he heard one. “Like someone from the saloon?”
Baxter brightened. “That’s it. I met a man there. What was his name? Can’t recall, but he looked like one of those professional gamblers.”
Wyatt smelled the stench of lies, but it was Mason who took control.
“You can tell that to the judge,” Mason said. “You can also tell him why you didn’t fetch your horse until just after the fire was started this morning.”
With every word, Baxter cowered lower and lower. All his alibis had been dashed. The evidence nailed him to the crime, but Baxter was a slippery crook. The moment Wyatt thought they had him, the man came up with a new angle.
“Maybe we can work out a little deal.” Baxter’s grin made Wyatt sick.
“No deals,” Wyatt growled, “not for child killers.”
“I never killed anyone,” Baxter shot back. “Unlike some people here.”
The accusation stung, and before today it would have started the nightmares, but Wyatt had made Jesus his commanding officer. Mason said the slate was now wiped clean. Maybe Baxter deserved the same opportunity.
“Speak your piece,” Wyatt said.
Baxter stood a little taller, confident now that he could weasel out of trouble. “There are others.”
“Others?” Mason yanked Baxter so he looked into his eyes. “Accomplices?”
“Not accomplices. Other orphans.”
Wyatt had been right. His blood heated, and he grabbed Baxter by the collar. “How many and where are they?”
Baxter coughed and gasped until Mason made Wyatt let go. He wanted to throttle the rat, but Mason had made it clear that the rule of law must prevail.
“Well?” Mason prodded. “Out with it. How many?”
Baxter acted like he was counting. “Maybe twenty or so.”
Twenty orphans?
“Where are they?” Wyatt demanded. “I know they weren’t placed around here because I checked.”
Baxter’s lips curled into a cruel grin. “That’s where the deal comes in. You let me go, and I’ll tell you where to find them.”
Wyatt looked at Mason. The sheriff was not the type of man to make deals with criminals. But if he didn’t, twenty children would suffer. He surveyed the scattered papers.
“It must all be written down.”
Baxter’s grin never faded. “The only place it’s written is in my head.”
The weasel had them in a bind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Since Charlotte didn’t know when Wyatt was returning, she filled the time with cleaning and cooking and playing with Sasha. But when the sun dipped below the horizon and Sasha drifted off to sleep, the night became too quiet to bear.
That’s when she took her cue from Holly. Not from what her friend said but from what she did. Holly acted on faith. So, too, would Charlotte, and there was one thing that needed to be done before she and Wyatt could become a real family.
So she balanced a lamp in one hand and climbed the ladder to the loft. She passed the bed with its memories of Wyatt and went directly to Charles’s trunk. In the past, she couldn’t face giving away his clothes, but there were still townspeople in need after the flood. These clothes could be put to good use elsewhere. She’d ask Pauline after Sunday worship.
To her surprise, Charles’s clothes no longer generated the ache they had before. She could look on them knowing that Charles would approve. He’d been generous with his time and skills, always helping out in the community. He would be pleased his clothes went to the needy.
Charlotte packed the candles, too. Though she could have used them, they still carried too much meaning. That left Gloria’s photograph and the baby spoon. It was too late to bury them with Charles, but he was with Gloria and his son now. Knowing that, she could look at Gloria’s image without the sense of inadequacy and resentment that she’d carried for too long.
“He loved you so much,” she whispered before putting the daguerreotype and spoon into her apron pocket.
After descending the ladder, she walked to the table and opened Charles’s family Bible. Pulling the ink pot and a pen from the desk, she noted the date of Charles’s death and the death of his son. Lastly, she tucked Gloria’s photograph in the back.
This belonged in Charles’s family. He’d spoken of a brother in Missouri. She’d search correspondence for an address and send the Bible to him. Perhaps Mel Hutchinson could meld the spoon into a memorial marker for the baby, which she’d put on Charles and Gloria’s graves.
Then, if Wyatt returned, they could start anew.
* * *
Mason gave no ground to Baxter. “If you tell us where to find the orphans, I’ll put in a good word with the judge.”
“Not good enough,” Baxter insisted.
Wyatt would have twisted the man’s arm until he screamed in pain, but Mason used more civilized tactics.
He yanked Baxter toward the office door. “Might as well get you in jail then. I’m getting hungry.” In an aside to Wyatt that Baxter could easily hear, he added, “Sure hope they’ve solved their rat problem. Those train robbers I brought here last month got so sick from the bites we weren’t sure they’d make it to trial.”
Wyatt cocked his gun. “Maybe we’d better put him out of his misery now.”
“Now, hold on,” Baxter squealed, digging in his heels. “I can be reasonable.”
Mason paused. “I’m listening.”
Baxter licked his lips. “You promise to talk to the judge?”
Mason nodded.
Baxter wasn’t finished. “And you’ll make sure Reed doesn’t shoot me in the back?”
Wyatt released the hammer.
Even with that threat removed, Baxter’s hands trembled. “You gotta understand that they’re not gonna want to let ’em go.” His polished speech vanished. Apparently, Baxter didn’t come from any highborn background. “And they’re gonna deny they got anything to do with me or orphans.”
Wyatt had no doubt of that. Baxter was dealing with the type of men who enslaved children. That type of no-good scoundrel had no conscience.
“Let us worry about that,” Mason snapped. “You tell us what you know.”
Baxter drew a deep breath. For a second, Wyatt thought the man would renege, but he
finally named several mining operations in Colorado as well as three of the larger farms in the area, including Star Plains.
Wyatt thought back to the plow boy’s fearful glances toward the grove of trees. He’d rescue that boy first.
Baxter then admitted that he kept a ledger detailing where every child had been sold. The buyers were listed as acronyms, which Baxter deciphered. Only nine places, but they ranged across a hundred miles. It would take time and effort to find those orphans.
Hours later, as he and Mason pieced it together over supper in the hotel dining room, Wyatt finally came up with a gut-wrenching total.
“There’s eighteen of them still underage.” Wyatt rubbed his head in frustration. He might be a new man, but the plight of those poor kids weighed on him. “Eighteen. How am I going to get them all back?”
“You?” Mason eyed him gravely. “This matter crosses state and territory lines. Only a federal marshal can handle it.”
“But it could take days to get a marshal on the job. Meanwhile, those children are in danger, and once the men who bought them find out Baxter is in jail, they’ll get rid of those kids as fast as they can. If we wait for the marshal, we’ll never find them.”
Mason strummed his fingers on the tabletop. “The only solution then is to get you named deputy marshal. For that, we’ll need to see a judge.”
Wyatt stood. “Let’s go.”
Mason didn’t budge. “Even if you are authorized to go after the orphans, what do you intend to do when you find them?”
“Free them.”
“And then?”
“Bring them home.”
Mason tapped sugar into his coffee, a luxury Wyatt never indulged in. “They’re orphans. They don’t have a home.”
In Wyatt’s rush to solve the problem, he hadn’t fully considered the outcome. “Baxter’s orphanage is empty.”
“And who will run it?”
The only staff the man had hired was a housekeeper, who cooked and cleaned when children were in residence. According to the ledger, no orphan stayed there more than a few days.
“Until we find another solution, the housekeeper could stay on.” Wyatt knew that wasn’t a perfect solution. Aside from the problem of money, the woman would be spooked when she learned her employer had been arrested. “Maybe Miss Sterling could talk to the man who runs that orphan society of hers. Maybe they’d take them in.”
“Maybe. If the judge can get you named deputy marshal, then I’ll have a talk with her when I get back to Evans Grove.” Mason leaned back with an exhausted sigh. “The deputy sheriff said Judge Broadside is in town, but we’ll probably have to wait until Monday morning to talk to him.”
“Monday? We can’t wait that long. We need to find him now. Tonight.” Wyatt rose again. “Where’s he staying?”
Mason pointed behind Wyatt to a nearby table. Sure enough, there sat the judge, eating dinner with an impeccably dressed businessman, whose back was to them. “I suggest we wait until he’s done eating, though.”
Wyatt didn’t wait well. He strummed his fingers. He tapped his toe. He drank far too much coffee.
Mason seemed to be enjoying Wyatt’s impatience. “We’ll have to spend the night in any case.” He leveled his piercing gaze right at Wyatt. “I suggest we attend worship tomorrow. You and those kids could use the extra blessing.”
“Well, for the orphans, maybe.” The old worry tumbled in Wyatt’s gut. Would any preacher even let him in the door? God himself might strike the church with a lightning bolt.
Mason laughed. “Don’t look like you’ve been sentenced to hang. A little preaching and praying will do you a heap of good. It’s best to have God on your side.” He grew serious again. “Baxter was right about one thing. The people who took the orphans won’t give them up without a fight. I doubt they’ll even admit they have any orphans, because it’d mean admitting they did wrong. Men like that will shoot before asking questions.”
Mason was warning him he could die, but Wyatt knew that.
“I have to do this. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Don’t you see? It’s my penance.”
Mason’s left eyebrow lifted. “God forgave you when you repented and confessed.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to pay a penalty. Every sin has its price. This is mine.”
“What about Charlotte and Sasha?”
He hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it, but deep down he knew the answer. “I’m leaving, just like we planned.” There was just one problem. That letter of his would have cut the ties, but he’d gone and asked Amelia Hicks to tell Charlotte that he’d be back. Now she’d be expecting him. He’d have to break it off all over again. Still, it had to be done. “It’s better that way,” he stated flatly.
“Better for who?”
“For them.” In Wyatt’s line of work, emotions could get a man killed. He couldn’t afford emotion, and neither could Charlotte and Sasha. “They’ve just lost a husband and father. Better they don’t get too attached, in case I don’t make it back.”
Instead of criticizing Wyatt’s choice, Mason nodded. “You’ll still need to talk to Charlotte.”
Wyatt knew that. He also knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Judge Broadside set down his napkin. Supper was over.
Wyatt stood. “Let’s go see the judge.”
The businessman across from Judge Broadside pushed back his chair, rose and shook the judge’s hand. When he turned to leave, both Wyatt and Mason froze.
What on earth was Curtis Brooks doing here?
* * *
Reverend Turner’s words during his Sunday sermon touched Charlotte deeper than they ever had before. When he said that God made straight the path for those who put their trust in Him, she was sure He’d bring Wyatt back to her.
“It’s all going to work out for the best,” she told Holly.
As usual, the orphans congregated to catch up on all that had happened. Today they had a lot to talk about after the fire. So did the adults. Everyone was still buzzing. Well, everyone except Miss Ward, who looked strangely subdued. She’d hurried past Holly and Charlotte without a word. Small blessing! The rest of the congregation more than made up for Beatrice. Several stopped Charlotte to tell her how brave Wyatt had been when he thought the children were trapped inside. Apparently, he’d tried to storm into the schoolhouse, and it took several men to hold him back.
Charlotte had nearly burst with pride for him. The town had adopted him as one of their own. Now, if he could only see that. She’d have to tell him when he came back. If he came back.
She had to stop herself. The future was in God’s hands. She’d placed it there, and, as Reverend Turner had said, there was no sense taking it back.
As they watched Rebecca talk with the pastor, Holly nudged her. “I got to thinking last night. You know how Rebecca lost everything in the fire?”
Charlotte nodded, not sure what Holly was getting at.
“All her lovely dresses.” Holly sighed. “Gone. She only has the dress she’s wearing.”
Charlotte saw where this was headed. “You’d like to give her the dress I’m making for you.”
Holly grinned. “If you can make it fit. She is a lot taller.”
Charlotte had to smile at her friend’s generous spirit. “There should be just enough fabric.”
“Good.” Holly squeezed her hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to me. Let’s tell her now. Why don’t you and Sasha come for Sunday dinner this afternoon? Perhaps you can fit her then.”
Rebecca teared up when Charlotte and Holly gave her the news. “That’s so generous of you.” She mustered a weak smile. “Maybe it’s the start of good things. Maybe your husbands will find Jakob in Greenville.”
“We can certainly pray about it,” Holly urged.
Rebecca smiled demurely, but she looked as skeptical as Charlotte had been yesterday. “At least I’ve talked Mr. Armstrong into letting me stay a little longer, until we have
some idea what happened to Jakob.” She glanced at Heidi and nibbled her lip. “If only...”
She didn’t have to finish for Charlotte and Holly to understand. If only someone would agree to take in Heidi. And Jakob, for if and when the boy appeared, they’d have to stay together or the same trouble would arise.
“Evans Grove is such a wonderful place to raise a family.” Rebecca sighed. “I was saying that to Mr. Brooks the other day. It’s just perfect.”
“Sounds to me like you’d like to stay, too.” Holly shot Charlotte a knowing smile.
“Oh, no.” But Rebecca’s light blush and averted eyes belied her words. “My family is in New York. That’s my home. I only meant that I wish Heidi and Jakob and any other child who needs a home could stay here. Mr. Brooks understood what I meant. He said the Greenville orphanage looks cold and forbidding. I don’t want any orphan to end up there. Here everyone would take them in with open arms and hearts.” She glanced at Beatrice Ward. “Well, at least most of them would. If only the orphanage was here.”
Charlotte felt the depth of her plea and wished with all her heart that Rebecca’s dream could come true. Beatrice would fight it, but the greatest obstacle was even harder to overcome than a meddling spinster. Money. The town simply didn’t have the funds to build an orphanage. They couldn’t even hire Wyatt to search for Jakob.
Holly, however, was undeterred. “Another thing to pray about. And it wouldn’t hurt to ask Mayor Evans. Maybe when all the rebuilding has been completed, there’ll be enough of the loan left to build a small orphanage.”
When Amelia Hicks approached, Rebecca and Holly drifted off to gather Liam and Heidi before heading to Holly’s house.
“Mrs. Reed?” Amelia’s voice broke, and she averted her gaze.
Charlotte felt for the skittish woman. She looked so pale and defeated. Charlotte shuddered to imagine how her drunken husband treated her last night.
Her drawn face and downcast eyes inspired Charlotte to give her a hug. “It’s not your fault.”
“But it is,” the woman cried. “I forgot to tell you yesterday. I’m so sorry.”
Charlotte had no idea what she was talking about. “Forgot what?”
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