"Why didn't you?" she asked.
"We didn't need no charity," he said. "Besides, I wasn't about to let the people who killed our parents off scot-free."
Shivering against the hatred in his voice, she ran her hands up and down her arms. So Justin was right. God did send the right people when you needed them. Knowing that didn't make her any more willing to go along with George's plan. He wasn't the right person. She didn't know how she knew this; she just did. Maybe, he never had been the right person.
"We're wasting time," he said, his voice thick with impatience. "Now move."
"No," she said. "I druther take my chances on a miracle."
He kicked the wall so hard, she feared the bricks would come tumbling down on top of her. "What's all this crazy talk about a miracle? It's that preacher, ain't it? He's the one who put all these crazy ideas in your head."
Before she could answer, Jed's voice called from the distance. "Someone's coming. Looks like the marshal."
George's curses were followed by the sound of running feet. More shouts. Then silence.
Thirty-one
Justin fell exhausted onto the bed without even bothering to undress. He covered his face with both hands.
He had run out of time. Less than twelve hours away at high noon, Sarah was scheduled to hang. The thought cut through him like a knife.
Now, he turned over and gave his pillow a thump. He'd hardly slept since learning of Sarah's incarceration, and he knew another long sleepless night awaited him. He dreaded dawn, dreaded the thought of losing the woman he loved, dreaded the thought of facing a future without her.
Never had he felt so utterly and completely helpless, so utterly alone. Had God really deserted him? Did his prayers fall on deaf ears?
Around midnight, something, the softest of sounds, jolted him upright. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and strained his eyes in the darkness. Nothing.
Thinking perhaps he'd heard the baby stir in the crate next to his bed, he was just about to lie down again when a creaking floorboard made his heart pound.
"Who's there?"
A voice floated out of the darkness. "It's me."
Thinking he recognized the voice, Justin's heart skipped a beat. "George?"
"Jed."
Justin fumbled in the dark to light a candle. He checked Elizabeth, covering her with a blanket. Then he led Sarah's brother to the balcony where they could talk without waking the baby. Outside he set the candle on the railing.
Overhead, the stars that seemed to shine so bright whenever he and Sarah had been together had lost their luster. It was as if her absence had drained the world of its sparkle and color.
He spun around to face Jed. "It's about time you got here. Sarah is scheduled to hang tomorrow."
"We got here as fast as we could, no thanks to you."
"What are you talking about? I sent a telegram. What else could I have done?"
"You sent that cryptic message, and we didn't have no Bible. So we tried to rent us a hotel room to avail ourselves of a free one. But that Garfield fella was in town campaignin' for the presidency, and there weren't no rooms to be found."
Berating himself for not sending a message that could be more easily interpreted, Justin asked, "What did you do then?"
"We broke into the Lost and Found Church."
Justin stepped back. "You broke into a church?"
"There weren't no way around it," Jed said. "Robert read from the Bible, and it said, 'Make haste to help me.' I figured you were in trouble and, no offense, Preacher, but I wasn't 'bout to put myself at risk to help you. Then Robert said maybe it was Sarah who was in trouble.
"We were just 'bout to leave the church when we got caught by the preacher. Accused us of lettin' his cat out when we broke in. Guess that's why the door was locked. In any case, since we were reading the Bible when he found us, he figured we wanted to be saved or found or somethin' and he insisted on baptizin' us. He dunked our heads in water, he did."
Justin laughed. He would loved to have seen the expression on George's face when his head came out of the baptismal font. He grew serious again. "Thank God you're here. You're an answer to my prayers."
Jed's brows shot up in surprise. "Never thought to be an answer to anyone's prayers," he said, adding in a more serious tone, "We're here to spring our little sister free."
Justin stiffened. "You aren't going to give yourselves up?"
Jed frowned. "Now why would we go and do a dumb thing like that?"
"The marshal agreed to let Sarah go if the three of you give yourselves up."
Jed shook his head. "How dumb do you think we is? We're here to spring Sarah, not put our own necks on the line. Only thing is, we need your help."
"My help?"
"It seems Sarah's got other ideas."
"You've talked to Sarah?"
"Not me. George. He snuck into the alley behind the jail- house. T'wasn't easy. That marshal's got eyes in the back of his head. Accordin' to George, Sarah said you have some miracle tucked up your sleeve."
Justin's mouth went dry. "A miracle?"
"That's what she said. Said she druther wait for the miracle."
"The marshal is adamant. Unless you and your brothers give yourselves up—"
"We ain't doin' no such thing," Jed said loud enough to wake Elizabeth. Justin hurried inside to rock her back to sleep.
Jed was still waiting on the balcony when Justin returned.
"We're not givin' ourselves up." This time Jed spoke in a hoarse, though no less firm, whisper. "Now, you're gonna have to talk some sense into my little sister. Tell her you know nothin' about no miracles. Tell her whatever you want, but make her forget this fool notion of hers that you're some kind of miracle worker."
Justin turned and rested his hands on the railing. He didn't like the way her brothers operated, but if he didn't help them, Sarah would hang sure as night followed day. "How do you plan to free her?"
"I reckon that's our business. All I can tell you is you better stay out of the way."
Justin turned. "It's too dangerous. Someone could get hurt. Sarah could get hurt."
"You don't think it's gonna hurt when they tie that rope around her neck?"
"There's got to be another way. Take me to the others."
Jed thought for a moment. "George ain't gonna like it. He's already hopping mad at Sarah. Said if she did what he told her to do, she wouldn't be in this mess."
"Let me talk to George."
Jed hesitated. "What about the baby?"
"I'll let my landlady know I'm leaving." He scrutinized Sarah's brother closely, sensing the private battle that raged within. "Trust me," he urged. "I want to save Sarah as much as you do, and we don't have much time."
Jed scratched his head. "George ain't gonna like it, but if you insist."
Justin tapped on the door of Ma's room to tell her he was leaving, then hurried downstairs to the barn to saddle his horse. He then followed Jed to a deserted fort outside of town.
Inside the building, he faced the three grizzled men in the light of a single candle and explained what had to be done.
"That's it?" George asked, his voice thick with impatience. "That's your miracle? You want us to turn ourselves in?"
"I never said anything to you about a miracle," Justin said. "We're talking about doing what's right by your sister."
Jed's gaze darted between Justin and George. "Tomorrow night at this time, Sarah and us will be far away. That's doing what's right."
"No," Justin said, frustrated. "Someone is bound to get hurt."
George glared at him. "We sprung Sarah out of jail before and no one got hurt. We'd have done the same thing tonight if she weren't so determined to wait for a miracle. We almost got caught arguin' with her. Now they've got the town blocked off at both ends. There's no way we can get our horses near the jail. We got to wait till tomorrow. You better hope that she forgets about a miracle and cooperates with us."
Justin
regarded each of the three men in turn. "The marshal blames her for his brother-in-law's death. He's out for revenge and is determined to do everything in his power to stop you. He's got a lot riding on this, and he isn't about to let you waltz out of town a second time. I've heard that he's deputized extra men to keep watch tomorrow. It could be war."
George folded his arms across his chest. "Since you know so much, you tell me what choice we have."
Justin fought to keep his anger in check. "I told you. Your choice is to turn yourselves in."
George's dark eyes blazed. "You think you've got all the answers, don't you?" He flashed a look of disdain. "You stand there looking all righteous. Well let me tell you somethin'. You don't know nothin' 'bout us."
Justin glanced at Robert. Out of the three, Robert was the most likely to do right by his sister, but his face remained passive.
Justin turned his attention back to George. "Sarah told me what happened to your parents."
George's lips curled upright. "Wells Fargo took everything from us. Do you hear me?Everything. "
Justin shook his head. "That's where you're wrong. Your integrity, your good name, a chance for a normal life . . . those you threw away yourself."
A crack seemed to show in George's armor, a look of uncertainty crossed his face. Justin felt encouraged, but the moment, if indeed there had been a moment, soon passed and Justin's hopes were dashed.
George backed away as if to distance himself from the truth of Justin's words. He turned his back, throwing his hands upward in exasperation. "Take him back to town."
Justin quickly switched tactics. "Please. Hear me out." He waited until he had George's full attention again before continuing. "Sarah tells me that none of you ever hurt anyone."
"That's true," Jed said. "What they said about us killin' that passenger is a downright lie."
"If it's true that you've never hurt anyone, then maybe . . . I know a lawyer in Boston who—"
George spat in disgust. "Once the marshal gets his hands on us, we're as good as bear meat. We ain't gonna be around long enough to wait for no fancy lawyer from Boston."
"There's got to be another way." Justin beseeched each man in turn. "In the name of God, I beg you to do the right thing. For once in your lives, think about what your actions will do to Sarah."
George wagged his finger in Justin's face. "We've always put our sister's needs first."
Jed nodded in agreement. "Everything we've done we've done for her. We even put her in that there orphanage when she was twelve so she'd have a proper home."
"For all the good it did us," George scoffed. "She wasn't there a week when she ran away. It took us three months to track her down. She was always running away. We never knew what trouble she was gonna get into next."
Jed gave an emphatic nod. "You won't find more carin' folks than the three of us."
Justin was tempted to argue the point but decided it would only make her brothers more obstinate than they already were. "Sarah would stop running away if she had a more normal life. You can give it to her. All of you. Just turn yourselves in, and—"
George kicked an empty water bucket across the room. "If you're so anxious to help Sarah, then get over to the jail and tell her to cooperate with us."
Justin stared hard at George. "I can't do that."
George cursed and pointed to the door. "Then get out of here and don't come back."
"Psst."
Sarah heard the sound and her heart pounded. Not George again. Please don't let it be George. He'd been furious with her, and the last thing she wanted was to get into another heated argument with him.
"Sarah!"
"Justin?" Relief flooded through her. The window was too high for her to see out, but she pressed herself against the wall beneath it. "What are you doing here?"
"I can't stay long," he said, his voice hushed. "They have the town blocked on both sides. I had to climb over a roof to get here. I just saw George."
"Then you know what he wants to do," she whispered back.
He hesitated before answering her. "It might be the only way."
She took a deep breath. The wall between them was only a few inches thick, but he seemed so far away. She closed her eyes and visualized his face. "Remember when you told me that God sends the right people when we need them?"
"I remember," he said.
"All these years, I thought God didn't care a hill o' beans about me. But tonight I asked George if anyone tried to help us after Ma and Papa died, and you know what he told me? Ol' Mrs. Bonheimer offered to let him work in her husband's store. She also wanted to adopt me. Said she'd give me a good home."
"And he turned her down?"
Sarah nodded. "He said we didn't need no charity."
"I'm not sure—"
"You were right," she said, a tad too loud. Then remembering to lower her voice, she added, "All these years, I thought God had turned His back on us, but that ain't true. It was George who refused to accept God's help. Then God sent you, then Elizabeth, and He sent that goat, and—"
"See? What did I tell you? God loves you. And I love you," he whispered. His words made her smile.
"I love you too," she said, squeezing back tears.
"We're running out of time." His voice grew more urgent. "Sarah, I hate to say this, but. . . Your brothers may be your only chance."
She searched his face. "You ain't giving up on God, now, are you?"
"Of c-course not," he stammered. "And don't you give up on Him either."
"I ain't planning to."
"I've got to go. Someone's coming."
"Who's there?" a male voice shouted and, after that, all she heard was the sound of running feet.
Thrity-two
The sun rode high in the sky, and the air shimmered with oppressive heat. Only two women had been hanged in all of Texas, both convicted of murder. Sarah would be the first woman to hang in Rocky Creek.
Folks traveled from miles around to witness history in the making. They came on horseback and on foot. They came in buckboards, shays, and surreys. A long line of vehicles extended far beyond the town limits, blocking Main Street in both directions.
Merchants closed their shops. Even the Chinese railroad workers abandoned their sledgehammers and walked the five miles to town to gather around the rough wood gallows erected next to the livery stables.
One man left the barbershop half-shaved, the right side of his face still covered with shaving cream.
Justin stared at the faces in the crowd. Some he recognized, but most he didn't. He spotted Barrel, the singing barber; Jake the saloon owner; Dr. Myers.
The feathers on Mrs. Hitchcock's hat bobbed up and down like a washday plunger as she fought her way through the crowd. Even Hank Applegate thought the occasion momentous enough to leave his rocking chair.
Justin wondered if he would have the heart to minister to these people after today.
He craned his neck looking for Sarah's brothers. Where were theyÌ At first, he'd hoped they would do what was right to save their sister and turn themselves in. Now, he just wanted them to save her however they saw fit.
Justin was horrified to spot Ma in the crowd, Elizabeth in her arms. He'd given her explicit instructions to stay away. Heart pounding, he waved in an effort to catch her attention with no success. Shouldering his way through the mob of people, he reached her side.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
Ma didn't look the least bit apologetic. "Now, Reverend, this could be the last time that poor mama can see her baby."
"It's dangerous," Justin said. "You must leave."
Ma's eyes widened. "Dangerous how?"
A buzz among the spectators signaled Sarah's appearance. Justin glanced in the direction of the jailhouse, then turned back to Ma. "I don't have time to explain. Just go."
"But—"
The marshal could be heard above the loud clamors. "Step aside! Step aside!"
The mob
crowded the boardwalk and pressed closer to the buildings to leave an opening down the center of Main Street for the marshal and his men to pass. Sarah walked in the middle of the group, her hands shackled behind her back, her face pale.
The ladies of the Rocky Creek Quilting Bee had provided Sarah with a clean frock and fixed her hair. The paisley striped linen dress was trimmed in brown velvet and gathered in back with a just a hint of a bustle. The brown and beige dress offered a startling, though no less pleasing, contrast to Sarah's red hair and boots. In Justin's eyes, she looked beautiful as always.
Justin made his way through the crowd and stepped in front of her. Briggs shielded his prisoner with a protective arm.
Sarah smiled at Justin. Her eyes were filled with such complete trust, his own lack of faith felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders. What if George fails to help her escape? What if something goes wrong? God, please don't let anyone get hurt.
Marshal Briggs glared at him. "Move out of the way, Reverend."
"The prisoner has the right to spiritual counsel."
Briggs hesitated. "All right, then. But make it quick." He motioned to his men to step away from the prisoner.
Justin moved to Sarah's side. Her face was pale, but her eyes were as wide and blue as the noontime sky.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
She rolled her eyes upward. "You don't suppose God forgot about me, do you?"
The question pained him. Last night, her faith had been the guarding light that kept him going. Now even she was having doubts.
"Not a chance," he said with a confidence that belied his own misgivings.
Her face lit up. "I've been praying hard."
"That's good."
"I even prayed a long-winded one for good measure."
"I'm impressed."
Justin glanced at the mob of people surrounding them, but there was still no sign of Sarah's brothers.
"Hurry it up, Preacher," Briggs called, scanning the crowd, one hand on the gun at his side.
Justin raised his hand to indicate he needed another minute or two. "Close your eyes, Sarah."
A Lady Like Sarah Page 23
