Gerda's Lawman

by Dooley, Lena Nelson

  Soon it was her turn to make a deposit. The teller had just greeted her when she felt something hard touch the middle of her back. Even through the material of her dress, it was cold.

  “Don’t move,” a grating, masculine voice sounded close to her ear.

  She started to turn and look at the man, but the hard thing pushed deeper into her back, and she knew it had to be a gun barrel. She couldn’t believe a man was holding a gun on her again. For some reason, she felt more apprehensive now than she had the last time. She had known that Frank wouldn’t pull the trigger, but she wasn’t sure about this stranger. If she could have just seen the expression in his eyes, maybe she would have been able to tell. Cold fingers of fright danced up and down her spine. It took all her willpower to keep from shivering. It was a good thing that her reticule was hanging safely on her arm, or she might have dropped it.

  “Don’t move.” The man turned his attention toward the teller, who stood as if paralyzed behind the metal bars of the teller’s cage. “And you there, come around and lock the front door. You do have a key to the front door, don’t you?”

  The poor teller was shaking so badly he could hardly get the key into the lock. Gerda could hear it scrape around on the metal, and the vibrations from the man were almost tangible in the room. Mr. Jackson was an elderly man who had been at the bank as long as Gerda had lived in the area. As far as she knew, he had worked there long before, as well. When he turned around after securing the door, he returned to his post with his trembling hands raised. His face had blanched almost white. Gerda was afraid the poor man was going to pass out right there.

  “Where is the bank manager?” The gruff voice was louder this time.

  Mr. Jackson’s voice wavered, then became a whisper. “He’s in his office.”

  “Go get him, but if either of you does anything foolish, this woman will not see another day.”

  Gerda didn’t like the sound of that. She could tell from the steely tone of his voice that the man meant every word he said. She had never fainted in her life, but she felt the color drain from her own face. Without moving her body, she took hold of the counter in front of her with her hands to keep from slipping away. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to gain control of her emotions and her reluctant body.

  “How can I hel—” Mr. Finley’s question died when he saw the man holding his gun on Gerda.

  “If you do what I say, this woman won’t be hurt.”

  Following the robber’s instructions, Mr. Finley went into the safe and brought out bags of money. Then he unlocked the door to the alley. Two other bandits entered wearing bandannas pulled over their mouths and noses. They started picking up the bags of money and carrying them outside, presumably to load on their horses. A wagon would be too slow for a quick getaway.

  When they had loaded all the bags, the leader told one of them to go into the vault with Mr. Finley and make sure they had all the money. After they returned and told him they had it, the two other bandits went out the back door.

  “Let’s see what you have in that bag.” The robber ripped Gerda’s reticule from where she carried it on her arm. “You were here to make a deposit, weren’t you?” Gerda looked from her handbag to the robber’s face, which was now covered with a handkerchief as the other men’s had been. “Well, this is quite a haul right here.” He stuffed the bag inside his shirt and gestured with his gun. “The three of you come inside here and lie facedown on the floor.”

  They went into the teller’s cage area and complied.

  “What time does your watch say, Banker?”

  Mr. Finley fumbled to pull the watch out of its pocket. After telling the robber what he wanted to know, he stuffed it back into its place. The fob fell against the floor making a loud thud in the stillness.

  “Take that watch back out. I want you to keep an eye on it, Banker. Don’t anyone move for at least fifteen minutes. I’m going to leave one man watching you from outside the back door. If anyone moves, the woman will be shot first.”

  When she heard the horses ride away, Gerda almost started crying, but she was afraid it would cause the gunman to shoot. The only thing she knew to do was pray.

  ❧

  All Frank could think about since the sheriff had talked to him was whether he should become sheriff or not. In one way, it was tempting. He had always been a good lawman. But would it prevent him from having a normal life with the woman he was coming to love? Even if she wouldn’t give him the time of day.

  Every time he laid his eyes on her, her beauty assailed him. But there was more to Gerda than outward appearances. Her beauty was internal as well. He’d heard all the sayings. Beauty is only skin deep. Beauty is as beauty does. She exemplified all of them—with everyone except him. He only hoped that she would soon forgive him for the pain he had caused her. Frank had waited a long time to settle down. He could wait even longer for a woman like Gerda Nilsson.

  Frank had looked into several business ventures, but none appealed to him. Of course, he had enough money saved to live a long time without having to work, but he wanted to be busy doing something worthwhile. And what was more worthwhile than serving as sheriff for this quiet town? In Litchfield, he should be able to both serve as a lawman and be a family man. Other men did it.

  When Frank and the sheriff had finished their discussion, Frank went back to his room at the hotel to think. He didn’t want to be distracted by all the activities in town. Finally, he knew that he couldn’t make the decision today, so he started back toward the bank to make a withdrawal since he had spent almost all the money he had been carrying. Just before he reached the bank, the front door burst open and three people rushed out. Mr. Finley, the bank manager; Mr. Jackson; and Gerda—and something was definitely wrong.

  “There’s been a bank robbery!” Gerda ran to him and grabbed the front of his shirt, holding on as if it were a lifeline. “They took all my money!” Then she burst into tears.

  Of their own volition, Frank’s arms went around her and cradled her head against his chest. He was glad when she didn’t pull away. Instead, she nestled close enough that her tears soaked through his shirt, but he didn’t care. She was finally in his arms. Then he realized what she was saying.

  “He pulled a gun on me, and he threatened to shoot me, and he took all the money in the bank, and he took my bag with the Dress Emporium money in it, and he made us lie down on the floor!” Gerda’s rambling was punctuated with sobs.

  Frank heard the banker and the bank teller both shout, “I’m going to get the sheriff!” Then the two men ran down the boardwalk, their boots making thudding sounds that resonated up and down the street. Other people turned to stare, both at the men running and at Frank as he held Gerda. He didn’t want to destroy her reputation, so he released his arms from around her and started patting her back.

  “It’s going to be all right. They’ve gone for the sheriff.”

  By the time Frank got the words out, the sheriff, accompanied by Mr. Finley and Mr. Jackson, ran toward the bank. The three men went in the open front door of the bank. Frank turned Gerda around, and the two of them joined the men inside.

  The sheriff questioned all three of the people who were there during the robbery. “We’ll need to send a posse after them right away.” He turned to Frank. “Have you ever headed up a posse?”

  Frank nodded.

  “This robbery could be a diversion,” Sheriff Bartlett whispered as he scratched his head. “That’s all I can say except that I don’t think Deputy Wright and I should leave town, just in case someone’s planning another robbery, if you get my drift. Would you be willing to lead the posse?”

  “I’ll help any way I can.” Frank wondered if perhaps the sheriff was expecting a courier or a shipment containing something valuable today.

  A large crowd had formed in the street in front of them. August Nilsson and Hank from the livery stood near the front of the group. Frank motioned for the two men to come up on the boardwalk wh
ere he and the sheriff stood.

  “We need a posse, but I don’t want too many people.” He placed his hand on August’s massive shoulder. “You know these people better than I do. I want you and Hank and four other men who are strong, intelligent, and have cool heads.”

  August surveyed the crowd. He pointed out each person. “Harold Jones is real levelheaded. Silas is a good rider and shoots straighter than most anyone in the county. Harvey and Charles Stevenson own the farm next to ours. They will do whatever you need them to.”

  Frank motioned to each man August recommended, and they quickly stepped up beside him. “I’d like you to be part of the posse.”

  They all nodded in agreement.

  Frank hadn’t noticed that the sheriff had gone until he returned carrying a deputy’s badge.

  “Frank, you can’t go without me deputizing you.” He pinned the star to Frank’s chest.

  Frank looked down at it. A small lump formed in his throat. It felt so good to be wearing a badge again, even if it was just temporary.

  ❧

  For whatever reason, the robbers weren’t careful to cover their tracks very well. It didn’t take the posse long to pick up the trail.

  August rode beside Frank, their horses never breaking stride as the men shouted to one another. “I think I know where they’re headed.”

  “Where?”

  “They’re going in the direction that leads to the place where Pierre Le Blanc kept his hidden camp.”

  Frank halted the posse, so they could strategize. “How hard is it to find this place?”

  August stopped his mount beside Frank’s. “You have to know what you’re looking for. That’s why it’s a perfect hideout.”

  “Does anyone here know how to get there?”

  August’s horse took one side step. The high-strung animals sensed the excitement and urgency of their riders. “I’ve been there. Lowell and Ollie showed it to me after Le Blanc was captured.”

  After August described to Frank the surrounding territory, Frank divided the other men into three groups of two. They rode to the valley as quietly as possible. Then they left their horses tied at the outer edge of the woods. Soon the seven men worked their way toward the clearing in the center of the valley. They spread out along the perimeter of forest, being careful to stay hidden in the undergrowth.

  Sure enough, the three robbers lounged around a campfire. Two counted the money, and one stood guard. Frank signaled the other posse members to move around the perimeter of the woods until they were all near the campsite, which was off to one side of the clearing.

  Frank didn’t want to jump the gun. He wanted to make an arrest without anyone coming to harm. He hunkered down to watch through the bushes. When the two robbers finished sorting the cash, they started dividing it.

  “I want a larger cut.” The tall, lean man spoke with a gravelly voice. “This job was my idea, and I planned it.”

  The man who was standing guard turned around. “Yeah, but we did a lot of the work, carrying those bags and putting them on the horses.”

  “You wouldn’t have enough brains to pull off a job like this,” the tall man said with a sneer.

  “Yeah, you were real smart, Joe.” The younger man looked at their leader with admiration in his expression. “Telling those people that someone would be watching to make sure they didn’t move for fifteen minutes. They were so stupid they believed you!” He laughed.

  The guard relaxed. “That was pretty smart, too, when you said you’d shoot the woman if the banker didn’t cooperate. I guess you knew they’d do anything to protect her. How much was the haul?”

  The younger robber looked down at the stacks of bills. “We’re not finished counting it all, but there’s more than one fortune here.”

  The guard whistled. “It’s all right with me if Joe gets a larger cut. I could buy a ranch and run it for several years on my share, even if it is a smaller cut than he gets.”

  Frank’s temper flared when the men talked about threatening Gerda. He had to take several deep breaths and force himself to remain coolheaded. He was a razor-sharp lawman. He wasn’t going to make any mistakes this time.

  With the guard not paying attention to what was going on around the camp, Frank knew it was time to attack. He signaled the other men. He watched them raise their guns and point them out between the trees. Then he stepped into the clearing.

  “Drop your guns!” He used his most authoritative voice. “The members of a posse have their guns trained on you.”

  The guard dropped the rifle he was holding and raised his hands, and the young robber who was kneeling beside the money held up his hands, too.

  “Take your pistols out of your holsters and throw them over here.” Frank kept his steely tone.

  The guard and the young robber complied, but the leader stood his ground.

  “I don’t believe you. There’s only one of you and three of us.” He pulled his gun and pointed it at Frank. “I can kill you before you get a shot off at any of us.”

  “Now!” Frank shouted.

  The other six men stepped from the cover of the trees and underbrush. Each man was holding a rifle, all pointed at the bank robbers.

  “I said drop your guns.” Frank looked straight at the leader.

  Venom accompanied the man’s gaze. Frank suspected he wasn’t used to having anyone get the drop on him. Slowly, the man lowered his arm, and his gun thudded to the ground.

  Frank spoke to the posse. “Don’t take your eyes off of the man you’re covering, and if he pulls anything, shoot.”

  He walked to the leader and frisked him, finding another pistol hidden at his back under his belt and a knife in his boot. A woman’s handbag was stuffed inside the man’s shirt. Frank figured it was Gerda’s. He glanced inside and hoped that all her money was still there.

  “Weren’t you going to share this with your gang?” Frank asked him.

  A glare was the man’s only answer to the question. After handcuffing the leader of the gang, Frank motioned Harold Jones over and stationed him beside the robber. Frank then searched the other two men. Neither of them had any hidden weapons, but the younger man had some bills stuffed inside his shirt.

  “As the saying goes, there’s no honor among thieves.” Frank shook his head and ordered Harvey and Charlie Stevenson to guard these two robbers.

  August took some rope and tied the captives’ hands while Frank gathered up the money and stuffed it into the bank bags.

  On the way back to town, the members of the posse were in high spirits. Even though they had to keep an eye on the prisoners, jubilant conversations bounced around the group.

  When the ten men rode into town, a crowd quickly gathered. The sheriff met them outside his office.

  “I see you caught them pretty quickly.” He smiled up at Frank.

  “We wouldn’t have done it so soon if it hadn’t been for August. He told us where to look.” Frank didn’t mind giving credit where it was due.

  The sheriff turned toward August. “How did you know where to look?”

  “When I realized which direction they went, I figured they might be where Pierre kept the girls.”

  The sheriff smiled as he and Frank helped the robbers dismount, then they herded the criminals into the jail cells and removed their bonds. The clang of the cell doors closing was music to Frank’s ears.

  The crowd outside the sheriff’s office was growing. By the time the culprits were behind bars, almost everyone who was in town that day had gathered. The sheriff stepped out the door, followed by Frank.

  Sheriff Bartlett raised his hands for silence. “Mr. Daggett led the posse that captured the robbers.”

  A shout went up. Frank’s name and the word “hero” were among the shouts. Frank wanted to step back inside. He was just doing a job. He wasn’t a hero.

  August Nilsson moved to the front of the crowd and turned to face his friends. “Frank Daggett knew just how to take the men without anyone getting hurt.
And we recovered all the money.” He pointed to the moneybags hanging on the horses ridden by August, Hank, and Silas.

  Gerda was standing at the edge of the crowd. Frank had seen her as soon as he’d stepped through the door. He watched the expressions on her face while the sheriff and August spoke. When she finally looked at him, admiration filled her solemn gaze. The connection he had felt that first day at the hotel once again sizzled through the air. The crowd faded away, and for a moment, he and Gerda were the only two people in the world. He slowly reached inside his shirt and extracted the woman’s handbag he had stuffed there. He raised it, and her attention turned from him to what he held in his hand. She smiled and mouthed the words “thank you.” For the first time in a long time, all was right with Frank’s world.

  Ten

  Gerda couldn’t tear her gaze from Frank’s compelling eyes, which were no longer icy but contained the blue warmth of a summer sky. She had a hard time catching her breath and suddenly felt warm all over. She hoped no one noticed that a blush now covered her cheeks. Or was it a flush? Blushes didn’t usually make her feel this hot, and the temperature wasn’t high enough today to bring on so much heat.

  Her attention was drawn toward the sheriff, who was holding up his hands for silence. “Now seems like a good time to tell you all that I’m ready to retire. I’ve asked Frank Daggett to take my place.” Murmurs through the crowd rose to a crescendo, almost drowning out his next words. “He hasn’t said yes yet, but I’m hoping he will.” The lawman turned and smiled at the man standing beside him.

  The crowd clamored for Frank. Gerda glanced back toward him, and he still looked at her. Once again, she was held in his hypnotic stare. After an almost imperceptible nod, he turned his gaze from hers, and she watched him study the individuals who filled the street between them. A slow smile spread across his face, lighting his features. Then the chatter settled down as if the crowd was waiting for him to speak. Gerda wanted to hear what he would say, too. She knew he still hadn’t invested in any business in town, even though that’s what he’d said he wanted to do. He had purchased her dream house, but he hadn’t moved in. There really was nothing to keep him in Litchfield, but now she didn’t want him to leave.