Millie Marries a Marshal

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “How did Robbins act when you showed up? Or were you already gone by then?”

  “He was half drunk when a friend brought him home that evening. Curtis laughed, asking what I thought of his beautiful family now. I could have beaten the man to a pulp with the fireplace poker if there would have been one in the house. The house was clear of anything Darcie could have used to defend herself against him.”

  “Why didn’t your sister or the neighbor go to the police to report her husband?” Cate asked.

  “Women and children are considered the man’s property, and rarely does anyone step in to help, especially when the man in question is the law in that part of town,” Millie said in disgust.

  The hair on the back of Adam’s neck was rising with fear. “What do you mean Millie?”

  “No one is going to believe how he treats his family, because my brother-in-law is a deputy marshal in St. Louis.”

  Adam thought back to domestic scenes he had disrupted in Clear Creek this past year. Tomorrow he would go back and check on every woman and child in those households to be sure the fear of God and the marshal’s star still protected those families from the man of the house.

  “How’d you get away?”

  “Darcie started going into labor, but Curtis wouldn’t let her lie down in their bed, so I took her next door to the neighbor’s house. After she delivered her little baby girl, Darcie begged me to take Tate and go to Sam’s as planned. The neighbor promised to move Darcie somewhere safe until Darcie is able to travel. We agreed it would be easier for me to take care of Tate instead of Darcie trying to handle both children.”

  “How would you know when your sister would arrive?”

  “The neighbor promised to wire Sam Larson when Darcie left. And after…well finding Sam no longer here, I told the telegraph operator to look for a message to Sam—from my friend—who would tell me the date of their arrival.”

  Adam thought back to the telegraph he got a few days after Millie arrived. “There was a telegraph…”

  “When? Is she already on her way? I didn’t expect them for a month or more because of Darcie and her baby’s poor conditions.”

  “But it just asked if you, ‘Millie Donovan and a boy’ had arrived, and it wasn’t signed.”

  “It was addressed to Sam?”

  “No it was addressed to the marshal of Clear Creek.”

  “Adam…you think this Robbins got Millie’s letter back, and was confirming Millie and Tate were here with that wire?” Jacob inquired with worry. “Where did it come from?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about the wire he received and what he was afraid it meant. “The police station at St. Louis. And, I answered back that they had indeed arrived safely.” The terror on Millie’s face sent shivers down his spine. What have I done? Put them in danger.

  “I’m bringing back a hungry little boy with big ears and eyes. Ready to eat?” Cora called out to warn the adults as Tate raced toward them.

  Adam turned his attention to the laughing little boy gleefully running toward the porch. How could anyone hurt such a sweet child?

  Now it all made sense. Tate was terrified of his marshal’s badge because Tate’s father wore one. By habit now, Adam unpinned his badge and stuck it in his vest pocket before entering the house. In the past few days Tate looked for Adam to enter the kitchen for their meals together, often playing hide and seek with him, in a two-year-old’s way. Adam made funny names up just to make Tate laugh. “Sweet Poo-Tater” was Tate’s favorite nickname so far.

  As Millie caught Tate up in her arms and hugged him tight, Adam realized why she faced all kinds of odds and sacrificed things for the child. She loved him. It didn’t matter that Millie was Tate’s aunt instead of his mother. She promised to take care of him, no matter what, and she was doing a fine job of it, even if the tyke ran off a few times at first.

  It hit Adam hard in the chest that he loved both of them too. But he might have put them in danger by inadvertently answering a wire.

  So what was he going to do about it—especially if Robbins came to town demanding his son back? Robbins had a right to take his son away from Millie, and even press charges against her.

  What’s right isn’t always right, Adam. His father quoted that phrase over and over to Adam as he grew up, first when Adam wanted to be a soldier, then a lawman. This was surely a situation where he needed to do what was right, for a woman and child, not how the law stated. But how am I going to legally get around that?

  “How about we eat lunch and talk again during Tate’s nap?” Adam looked first at his mother, then Jacob and Dagmar. Millie had already walked by with Tate still in her arms. They had to come up with a way to protect Millie and Tate while Adam found out where and what Robbins was up to. His lawman’s mind was storming up all kinds of scenarios in his head about Millie’s predicament, and most of them weren’t good.

  ***

  “I wish you would have stayed out with my family, Millie.”

  “Absolutely not, Adam. I didn’t feel safe out there. We need to be around you and a town full of people.” Millie’s arms were crossed in defiance and he swore there were little shots of red sparking out of her hair now and then.

  “He’s going to show his badge and demand Tate goes back with him.”

  “I don’t see why. Curtis didn’t want the boy in the first place, so why would he come for him now?”

  Adam threw his arms in the air with his exasperation. “Just because he can. Mean men are that way, Millie, and I’m worried to death about both of you. I’m almost positive he’ll show up when we least expect him.”

  “Remember I’m a cop’s daughter and I do know a few things about defending myself. Your mother and sister are coming into town tomorrow and we’re having a ladies meeting to let the town’s women know what’s going on, so they will be on alert.”

  “You think a bunch of ladies can take care of the law in this town? I’m in charge.” I thought.

  “We women can be very resourceful when prepared.” Millie’s chin went up a notch and another red curl sprung from her tight bun.

  “So you’re all going to walk around with a rolling pin, ready to swing at the man? How will the ladies know what the man looks like?”

  “You have given me some thoughts I’ll need to bring up at the meeting.”

  “Shouldn’t I be involved in your meeting, so I know what the heck you have up your sleeves?”

  “We decided it was best to keep you in the dark about our plan. But we’ll be sure Henry and Homer know because they are the first line of defense, as the town sentries.”

  “Don’t you mean the town’s centenarians?” Adam scoffed. “Well, can I at least defend you in our home? I want you and Tate sleeping upstairs at night. He can take his naps in the downstairs room, but I want you upstairs tonight. No arguments.”

  By gosh the woman didn’t have an argument back at him. Millie stared at him wide-eyed and her mouth in a perfect “O”. Oh, gosh what did I just say? Our home… I want you upstairs tonight. Adam’s face turned beet red as he spun on his boot heel and rushed out the door.

  ***

  Millie heard Adam come in late last night, because she and Tate were in the room across the hall from his bedroom and she was wide-awake, still thinking about his statement that he wanted her “upstairs”…and how she wished she could be “upstairs” enjoying being his wife.

  But then thoughts of why they were upstairs, because Tate was in danger, killed the mood. Now she had breakfast ready and he was stalling coming downstairs.

  Millie heard Adam’s boot steps come down the steps and enter the room, but didn’t turn to look at him until Tate screaked in terror. She spun around then stopped, looking at Adam’s bruised chin. His face had been a target for someone’s fist last night.

  “Tate, it’s okay, Adam just has a boo-boo on his face. He doesn’t even need a bandage.”

  “Why is he so upset?” Adam asked above the child’s screams
.

  “Think about it, Adam…” Millie knew when Adam realized Tate had seen—and felt—bruises before.

  Adam crouched down to Tate’s height at the high chair. “Oh, no. I’m okay, Sweet poo-Tater, I really am. Please don’t cry…”

  Millie glanced at Adam, then Tate, wondering if her remedy for Tate’s “boo-boos” would calm the toddler down. “Tate. Tate, don’t you think Adam should have a ‘Baker’s Kiss’ on that boo-boo?”

  “Huh?” Tate stopped his crying and looked between the adults. That caused Adam to look between her and Tate in confusion as well.

  “What’s a Baker’s Kiss, Millie?” Adam asked warily.

  Millie opened the pie cupboard and took out a little tin container and a larger one from a shelf, put them on the table in front of Tate, and took off the lids.

  Millie smiled at Tate and asked sweetly, “Shall I give you a Baker’s Kiss first so Adam can see what they are? Where was your last boo-boo, Tate?”

  Now Tate was excited, waving his left arm and pointing at it with his right hand. “Here, here!” The tot was transformed into an excited, happy child compared to the terrified boy of a minute ago.

  “Okay. We take the special cookie, dip it in the special sugar, and pat the boo-boo. Then…” Millie paused to lick her tongue all over her lips, “you get the special Baker’s Kiss on your boo-boo.” She wet her lips again and carefully touched her puckered mouth on his skin, taking off a bit of sugar, leaving the imprint of a kiss on his arm.

  Tate grinned in delight, then took the cookie from Millie’s palm and stuck it in his mouth, happily chewing on the shortbread cookie.

  “No wonder the kitchen smells like cookies half the time, and my socks smell like sugar if I walk in stocking feet around the kitchen. Tate’s been having lots of boo-boos?” Adam quietly asked Millie.

  “Oh yes, but it’s become a happy game and I’m fattening him up at the same time,” Millie whispered back.

  “Adam’s turn! Gets a kiss from Illie!”

  Millie sucked in a breath to fortify her intention. There was another reason she wanted to give Adam a kiss besides to calm Tate down. She wanted to announce her feelings to Adam.

  She had formed small round shortbread cookies, and pinched up a bit of dough on top before she baked them to give a little handle for her to dip into the tin of fine sugar. Millie ground sugar with a mortar and pestle to make it very fine and added a little corn starch to make the sugar stick better to the skin.

  “Sit down in the chair by Tate, Adam, so he can see your kiss. What’s the simple version of how you got your boo-boo, Adam?”

  Millie took a cookie from the tin, dabbed it in the sugar tin, and carefully touched the bruise on Adam’s chin.

  “I overreacted when Ralph Peters…uh yelled at his wife, and I got a boo-boo on my chin.”

  “He hit you, just because of that?”

  “Uh, I swung at him first without thinking and…Ida decked me.”

  Millie giggled and touched his chin again because the sugar fell off when Adam talked.

  “Ida is twice the size of Ralph, so I’m sure she can protect herself.”

  “Yeah, I think of that every time I move my jaw.”

  “Kiss! Kiss!” Millie licked her lips as Tate started chanting. She watched Adam stare at her lips as she slowly moved towards his face. She took a breath, then gave him a long, wet, kiss right in the middle of the sugar smear.

  “I think you missed the exact spot,” Adam slowly smiled while looking at her sugar-covered lips.”

  “Oh, I know I did,” Millie said as she dipped the cookie into the sugar mix and this time dabbed directly on his upturned lips. She put the cookie on the table and wrapped her arms around Adam’s shoulders before lowering her lips to zero in on her target.

  Chapter 11

  “Adam tried to keep his mind on the sermon, but his eyes kept glancing at Millie, thinking about all the “Baker’s Kisses” they had shared in the past week, with or without the cookies, depending on whether they had a toddler’s audience or not. He glanced over Millie’s head to see his mother’s, apparently knowing, smile. Dang, the preacher was probably watching him make longing glances at Millie’s lips, too.

  It had been a wonderful week with Mille, but an exasperating one for work. He had to keep his mind on his job and it was hard, thinking about Millie and Tate’s situation. Extra cowboys in town meant extra scuffles between brands, drunks who had to sleep their stupid stupor off in the jail, and another domestic violence case when he should have arrested himself for being so brutal against the man who slapped his wife.

  He also did something that he was positive would upset Millie’s shooting red curls—but he did it anyway. Adam finally convinced Millie to write a letter to her father explaining the situation. The two needed to mend the rift between them, not only for their sake, but also for Darcie and her children. He said he’d deliver the letter to the post office, but instead he took it to the jailhouse, locked the door and carefully opened the letter to read what Millie had written.

  He did reseal and mail the letter, after he wired Mr. Donovan in care of the Chicago Police Department. That man had a right to know what was going on with his family; and personally, Adam thought the father should be involved in protecting his daughters and grandchildren. He had to word the letter carefully, not knowing who might read it in Chicago, but he had to try contacting Millie’s father.

  Adam didn’t worry about Clear Creek’s telegrapher knowing about it, because the whole town knew Tate’s story and was on alert. The man even suggested and added words to add to the wire, and only charged Adam half the usual rate.

  He had to admit that the women were right that Millie and Tate were better protected in town. Now Tate openly called him and Millie, “Unca Adam and Auntie Illie”. Someone was always with the two of them when they walked around town. Millie’s baking business swelled because people wanted her to bake for them, and then stayed at the house and visited while she made and baked their items.

  If only they would hear from Millie’s sister or father. Another week had passed without a letter or wire, causing Adam to worry that something else had happened that he and Millie didn’t know about.

  Adam heard the back door of the church open and close, but didn’t think anything about it. Someone was really late and a guilty conscience made them come anyway, or more likely a child sneaking back in after going around back of the church to use one of the outhouses.

  Tate had been sucking his thumb, lazily lying against Millie’s shoulder, looking back at the children in the congregation. He suddenly jerked down, terror in his eyes as he punched Millie hard in the chest. She caught his fisted hand, and then looked into his eyes. Millie took a deep breath, quietly passed a hunched up Tate down the pew to Hilda. What was going on? Millie very slowly turned her head, carefully scanning the back of the church, and then slowly turned her head back. Adam started to lean over to ask Millie what was wrong because he could feel her trembling against his shoulder—when she leaned against his mother and whispered, “The wasp is here!”

  Just like that his mother jumped up in the air, wildly waving her arms above her head shouting “There’s a wasp in here!” Every woman in church immediately jumped up, screaming similar things about wasps, while pushing out of the pews and literally all swarming to the back of the church. The men and children were ducking down—as was the preacher—looking for a swarm of wasps in the air while the women ran to the back, down the center and side aisles.

  Adam didn’t know what to think or do as he watched the chaos erupt around him. His mother grabbed his coat collar, pulling him down so she could yell in his ear above the screams of the women. “Curtis Robbins is in the back of the church in a brown coat. Get him over to the jailhouse, now!”

  “No! Where’s Millie and Tate?” His mother pointed down to show Millie under the pew, with Hilda’s arms covering Tate’s body.

  “The plan to protect them is in place, Adam. Do y
our part as marshal and get him away from the church and any view of the roads going south.”

  Adam pushed his way through the parishioners until he found a man surrounded by a tight ring of women. They were no longer swatting at imaginary wasps, but had their hands in their reticules… Were they pointing hidden derringers at the man!?

  Good golly! Why had he ever thought that the town’s women couldn’t protect Millie and Tate? He needed to deputize women instead of men the next time he needed to form a posse.

  Trying to politely nod at the sneering man, Adam said “Sir, I’m Marshal Wilerson and I believe you disturbed the peace by letting a swarm of wasps into the church service. Please come with me down to the jailhouse so we can discuss this matter.”

  “Hel…” Before Robbins got out the cuss word, one of the ladies yelled “Wasp!” and slapped at the insect that had mysteriously landed on the man’s head.

  “I suggest we move out of the church so the service can resume, sir.”

  “All right. I need you to press charges against a person who has kidnapped my son anyway, so let’s get out of this den of….wasp slappers.”

  Adam wanted to slap this man’s head with the butt of his gun, but he reminded himself that he, as the town marshal, was required to uphold the law of the state of Kansas. But right now he wanted to do the opposite thing that might be required of him.

  He walked confidently beside the man, also wearing a badge, directing him to the jailhouse. Adam noticed other men walking slightly behind them, forming a back line of defense. “Please come in and have a seat, sir. “What’s your name and business in my town?” Adam asked as business-like as possible.