Sarah rubbed her palm against her forehead, hoping to chase away her growing headache. “They were exhausted. Beth had twisted her ankle, and she was too heavy for me to carry all the way. I left them in a deserted shack and hurried to town, thinking I’d get back to them before long. Could you at least send someone for them and bring them here?”
The sheriff leaned against the wall and swatted his hand in the air as if batting a fly. “So, the gold was in the saddlebags when you found the horse?”
“What? No. We found it back at my uncle’s cabin where we’ve been staying since our parents died.”
“Your uncle? What’s his name?”
“Harlan Oakley.”
“Never heard of him. Where’d he get the gold?” He lifted one foot and pressed it against the wall behind him.
“My brother, Ryan, overheard our uncle and some men talking about the banks and trains they’d robbed. After Uncle Harlan and the other men rode out yesterday morning, we dug up the gold. I was hoping if I returned it, I might get a reward. I need to get my family away from my uncle and his cronies.”
The sheriff pursed his lips, and in two steps, he was at the bars. He grabbed hold of them. Sarah swallowed hard and stepped back.
“So I’m supposed to believe that you already had the gold and then just happened to find a horse that ran away during a robbery the day before. Did you know the woman who owned that horse was shot? The doc doesn’t know if she’ll pull through. I’m working on getting descriptions of the thieves, but one of them sounds similar in size to you.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Sarah grasped the slats of her cell and leaned her forehead against the cold metal. “If you’d just let me go I could show you where I found the horse and take you to my brother and sister. They’ll verify my story.”
He straightened. “And just how old are these younguns?”
“Beth is six, and Ryan is eight.”
“I’d really like to believe your story, ma’am. You seem like a nice young woman, but you were caught red-handed, and you’ll have to stay here for now. I’ll see that you get some grub in a little while.” The sheriff shook his head and turned away.
“Nooo! Please listen. I’ve got to get back to my brother and sister. They’ve got to be scared and confused, and they don’t have much food. If I don’t get out of here they could die.” Sarah trembled at the thought of all the things that could happen to two unprotected children in the wilds of the Badlands.
Without a backward glance, he shut the door, sealing her in again.
“Don’t leave. Wait!” Never had she felt so helpless, not even after the fire that had destroyed her home and killed her parents. “God, why aren’t You helping me? We’ve been through so much already, why this? You know I’m innocent.”
The lone lantern cast eerie shadows that danced on the wall across from the two cells. The room smelled of smoke—and the unemptied chamber pot she’d been humiliated to use. If only there was a window to let in fresh air.
A dark panic she’d never before experienced closed in around her. The tears she’d held at bay for so long now flooded down her cheeks. She sat on the cot, elbows on her knees, and a wail escaped, sounding like a panicked animal caught in a trap.
“God, help me. Watch over the kids. Keep them safe, and get me out of here.”
❧
Quinn stood outside the hotel, absorbing the warm sunshine. A bird chirped in a nearby tree greeting the new day that smelled fresh and clean after yesterday’s storms, but Quinn could hardly enjoy its tune. What would his grandmother say when he returned without his bride? Would she nag him half to death until he found another woman to marry?
He exhaled a frustrated sigh. How could a grown man—a rancher who’d forged a life out of a wilderness—be afraid of his granny? His grandma had always been a strong woman, but mourning her daughter’s death had made her frail, and she’d often taken to her bed. A mother shouldn’t have to watch her child die, Grandma had said. Now that she was starting to get around again, he didn’t want her to have a setback.
He shook his head and crossed the street, dodging a puddle, and headed toward the mercantile. He missed his mother, too, but he had a ranch to run and did his grieving in the saddle. He passed the sheriff’s office, and recalled the woman’s frantic gaze from the day before—a gaze that had haunted his dreams. Was she still in jail?
It had been a long while since he’d chatted with Sheriff Will Jones. Will had locked up Quinn and his sister when a U.S. Marshal had turned them in as outlaws. After they’d been found innocent and released, he and the sheriff had become friends. Maybe a quick stop to say howdy was in order. Quinn had a burning desire to know what had become of the young woman, and there was only one way to find out. Had she been sent happily on her way, or was she even now incarcerated in that dark, stuffy cell?
He spun around and headed back to the sheriff’s office. The door rattled as Quinn stepped inside. Will looked up from the papers on his desk and smiled, weary lines clinging around his eyes. Will gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.
Quinn sat and crossed his arms over his chest. He stretched his legs out in front of him. He still didn’t like this place, but at least the office was brighter and less claustrophobic than those two gloomy cells. “Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. How you doin’?”
“I’ve had better days.” Will proffered a crooked smile. “ ’Course, I’ve had worse ones, too.”
“I imagine you have.” Quinn stared at the door separating the office from the cell room. “What became of that gal that your deputy dragged in here yesterday?”
“She’s locked up in back.” Will rubbed his nape. “I don’t know what to believe. She came riding into town on Mary Severson’s horse, carrying a bag of stolen gold, and claims she’s as innocent as a newborn babe.” Will picked up his coffee and took a sip. “The problem is. . .I’m half inclined to believe her. But all the evidence says otherwise.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you had an innocent female in your jail.”
The sheriff spewed coffee onto the floor and chuckled. “You’re never gonna let me live that down. You still mad about that?”
Quinn shook his head. “Nope. It’s water under the bridge now. Anna’s happily married to that ex-marshal who arrested us. I still can hardly believe that, but Brett’s a good man. So, what makes you think this gal is innocent?”
Will scratched his chest, wrinkling his shirt. “Just a hunch. There are no eyewitnesses that can place her at the crime.” Will glanced at the closed door to the cell room. “She claims she has a brother and sister out there somewhere waiting for her to return.”
Quinn bent his legs and leaned forward. “You think she’s telling the truth?”
The sheriff shrugged. “I sent my deputy out to look for them, but he didn’t find any trace of two children.”
Quinn stared out the window. The sun shone bright on the two small trees across the street, and a light wind tickled leaves still damp from last night’s storm. He hated the thought of an innocent woman in that cell, unable to see the sun or feel a breeze on her face, experiencing the same fears his sister had endured until he, too, had been arrested. But maybe the woman was guilty. How else could she have had stolen gold in her possession?
Will leaned forward and laid his arms across his desk. “I have a bad feeling about this one. The townsfolk were ready to lynch her yesterday. The odd thing is that bank bag she had in her possession had the name of the Deadwood Federal Bank on it. I telegraphed the Deadwood sheriff, and they had a robbery over a month ago, but there wasn’t a woman involved.”
Loud footsteps pounded on the boardwalk, and a heavyset man dressed in a three-piece brown suit strode past the window. He halted in front of the sheriff’s door.
“Great. Here comes trouble.” Will leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
The man flung open the door and stormed inside. He glanced at Quinn and then focused a glare on the sher
iff. Quinn recognized Medora’s bank president, Lars Severson. The wealthy white-haired man had often tried to push his own agenda at town meetings.
Sweat trickled down Severson’s temple. He marched forward, put his hands on the desk, and leaned toward the sheriff. “I want to know what you plan to do with that outlaw who shot Mary and stole her horse.”
Will stood, forcing Mr. Severson to look up. “I haven’t decided yet. Witnesses have testified that Mary’s horse ran off riderless following the outlaws’ horses, but a few folks say one of the outlaws was on it.”
“My Mary lies half dead in her bed, and you can’t decide what to do with the outlaw who shot her?” The man’s beefy face turned the color of a beet. He pounded his fist on the sheriff’s desk, rattling an empty coffee cup. “I demand justice.”
Will shoved his hands to his waist and stood. “Now see here, there’s no proof this woman was with the outlaws who shot Mary. She claims she found the horse and the gold. . .but not at the same place.” Will glanced at Quinn as if the story sounded highly unlikely once voiced out loud.
“I want that woman to pay for her crimes.”
“You want to send an innocent woman to prison or see her hanged?” Will asked.
The banker’s white brows crinkled. “Of course not, but there’s plenty of evidence that the woman in your jail is a thief.”
“Nobody has stepped forward who can identify her as one of the outlaws, and there was no mention of a woman being among the gang of robbers. I’m not convinced she was.” The sheriff stared at the banker until the man looked away.
A distant memory clawed its way to the front of Quinn’s mind. “I can think of a way to get rid of this headache.” Both men swung their gaze on him, and he struggled to keep a straight face. Maybe he could defuse the tension with a bit of jesting.
“How?” Will asked. “I’m open to any ideas at this point.”
“I remember reading in the newspaper about a woman outlaw who was captured in Montana. Since there were so few women around those parts, the sheriff auctioned her off to the highest bidder.”
Will stared at him. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.” He may have been joking about auctioning off the woman in Will’s jail, but the tale he told was true. “That sheriff didn’t want the hassle of keeping a woman in his jail until a judge rode through.”
“That’s preposterous, Sheriff.” Banker Severson looked from Quinn to the sheriff. “Surely you aren’t taking him seriously, are you?”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m just telling you what another sheriff did in a similar situation. But you’ve got to admit there are few women around these parts. Do you really think a jury made up of men from around here would convict a pretty gal?”
Will seemed to consider that. “Probably not.”
“Why not give her the choice of marrying now and getting out of jail or trying her luck at a jury trial? That way if she is innocent, she won’t pay for a crime she didn’t do, and the jail will be free for more serious criminals.”
“Why. . .that’s unseemly—unchristian,” the banker sputtered. “What could be more serious than shooting an innocent girl and robbing a bank?”
Will gave Quinn a furtive wink and rubbed his jaw and glanced toward the closed door that led to the cell area. “That’s not a half bad idea. Women are hard to come by in these parts.”
The banker pounded his fist on Will’s desk again. “I demand justice. That woman must account for her misdeeds.” Mr. Severson glared at them then turned and stomped out the door.
Quinn chuckled. “He just might have your job for that.”
“It was worth it. Did you see the look on his face?” Will hooted and pounded on his desk. “That man has been a thorn in my side ever since he came to town. I’m real sorry Mary got shot, but I’d rather lose my job than send an innocent woman to prison or see her hanged.”
Will walked to the window and stared out. “Uh oh, looks like Severson is making a stink already. Half a dozen men are headed this way.”
Quinn stood and joined him at the window. Sure enough, they were about to be swarmed. Will spun around, grabbed his rifle, and pulled a box of cartridges out of his top desk drawer, preparing for a fight. Quinn checked his revolver out of habit, knowing already that it was loaded. “We can’t let them lynch that woman.”
Will nodded. “It’s days like this I wish the jail had a back door.”
Three
Quinn cocked his gun and watched the growing crowd. Half a dozen men shouted and shoved at one another as if each wanted to be the one to pull the trap door and lynch that poor girl. Will opened the door and stood there, blocking the entrance.
“Just stop right where you are, or someone’s gonna get hurt.”
The men at the front of the crowd halted, surprise lifting their brows. Men in the back plowed into them. More pushing and caterwauling ensued.
Tom Gallagher, a local rancher, shoved past another man and stepped forward. “I’ll marry that gal. It don’t matter to me what she’s done. She’s right fair to look at, and I need a woman at home.”
A smelly, hairy man who resembled a bear fresh out of hibernation stepped in front of Mr. Gallagher. “Nuh-uh, I’s here first. Heard Lars Severson myself say the sheriff was marryin’ her off. She’s my woman.”
Pete Samson wiped his sleeve across his whiskery face. “Nope.” He spat a wad of tobacco juice at Will’s feet. “I reckon I was first. She’s mine.”
Will’s confused gaze darted to Quinn’s, and he shrugged one shoulder.
“What are you talking about?” Will asked. “I thought you were a lynch mob.”
The bear tugged off his dingy cap. “Nope. That was yesterday. Today, I reckon we all got our hearts set on marryin’ that little gal—and I’m first in line.”
“No you’re not,” Tom Gallagher hollered. “I need a wife to watch after my two younguns. You just want her for, well. . .never mind.”
“It don’t matter why I want her. I just do.” The two men shoved at each other like schoolboys wanting to do a favor for a pretty teacher.
Pete stared at the two, then grinned and stepped past them. “Reckon I’m first now, Sheriff.”
Several men still standing on the boardwalk yelled that they wanted to marry up with the outlaw, too. One man punched another, and a jaw-breaking brawl started. Sheriff Jones pointed his rifle over their heads and pulled the trigger. The blast of the gunfire froze the crowd as the familiar odor of gunpowder scented the air in a cloud of smoke. Men with fists raised slowly lowered their arms and glared at their neighbor.
“Nothing has been decided yet. Go home.” Will held his rifle across one arm.
“But Banker Severson was griping to anyone who’d listen. Said you was gonna auction that gal off. I’ll give ya two dollars for her.” A man Quinn had never seen before jingled some coins in his hand.
Will growled. “We don’t sell people around here. Go home before I lock up the whole kit and caboodle of you.”
“If’n you’re gonna lock me up with that gal, then go ahead.” The bear held out his hands as if waiting for Will to slap irons on him. Several men chuckled.
Will aimed his rifle at the man’s belly. “You just head back to the hills, mister.”
Irritation sparked in the man’s eyes, but his gaze lowered to the rifle. He backed away, mumbling something Quinn couldn’t make out, and sauntered across the street.
Quinn bit back a chuckle. Yesterday they were ready to lynch the poor gal and now they wanted to marry her. The crowd of fickle men had been disappointed. That was obvious. Twenty men to one woman. No wonder they all went half crazy for a chance to have one of their own. His mail-order bride’s refusal stung again. Yep, it sure would be hard to find a woman to live on a ranch, two hours’ ride from town.
Will shook his head and remained just outside the doorway. “Look what you started.”
Quinn shrugged. “Men out here are lonely. I was only trying to help.” He leane
d one shoulder against the doorframe. “But you can’t turn that poor girl over to the likes of any of those men. Gallagher’s not so bad. He needs a woman for those kids of his, but he’s got that hair-trigger temper and those rambunctious boys.”
Will rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t let that poor gal marry a one of those hooligans.”
“Well. . .why not find a man you would let her marry—if you’re sure of her innocence.”
Will’s eyes sparked and one corner of his mouth tilted up. He stepped back into his office and laid his rifle on the desk. “I think I will. How’d you like to meet your new bride, McFarland?”
“What?” Quinn scowled at Will. “That’s not funny.”
Will placed his hands on his desk and leaned toward Quinn. “Do I look like I’m joking? That little gal is as pretty as a mustang. I feel in my gut that she’s telling the truth. You need a wife, so why not marry her? Would solve a lot of problems—for both of us.”
Quinn turned to leave. “That’s just plain crazy, Will. You don’t even know if she’d be willing to marry just to get out of jail.” He walked to the open door and noted that the crowd of men outside had grown to more than a dozen. Most weren’t family men who worked hard and made a good living, but rather the bums, trappers, and cowpokes that hung out at the saloon. It didn’t take much thought to realize why they wanted a woman.
“She seems willing to do just about anything to get out of jail. Think about it, will you?”
Coming home with a bride would solve one of his problems. It would get Grandma off his back, so he could focus on his work. He turned to face the sheriff.
“Did you see her yesterday?” Will’s eyes brightened. “She’s a comely little thing. You want to have a look up close before you decide?”
Quinn clenched his teeth and scowled. Will made it sound as if he were buying a horse. But his curiosity had been aroused. He wasn’t one to make impulsive decisions, especially when an outlaw was part of the deal, but what did it hurt to look at the woman?
Straight For The Heart Page 3
