Kemp Newton walked to the back wall without argument, but the cowboy continued to stand at the bars and look Grace over from head to toe. “How about it, honey? Want to swap that boring stiff-necked sheriff for a younger man who knows how to treat a pretty young woman.”
“Ignore the fool boy, Miss Grace,” Kemp said. “He thinks cause his daddy is some rich gambling man he can come into town and do what he pleases.”
“You better listen to Kemp,” Lance said. “He’s about to earn his freedom, but you’re going to stay locked up until I get restitution for the damage you’ve caused to the businesses in town. Now move yourself back or you’re not getting a plate.”
He didn’t move, but placed his hands on the bars and stared at Lance. “My father has been in a card game all day at the saloon and as soon as he finds out you’ve put me in jail, you’re going to have hell to pay.”
“I’ll be damned if you’re going to cause me to miss my supper.” Kemp moved forward, grabbed the younger man’s arm and jerked him toward the back of the cell.
The cowboy reached out to hit Kemp, but he missed. Kemp hooked his boot under the man’s ankle and he went sprawling on the floor. Kemp grinned. “You can give us our plates now, Mr. Lance. He ain’t gonna be no more bother to you.”
Lance unlocked the foot square in the cell door and opened it. Taking a biscuit from the basket, he placed it on one of the plates Grace had filled then handed it through to Kemp. He repeated this process and handed in a second plate. “I put a plate in there for you, Parnell. It’s up to you whether you eat or not.”
Grace poured two cups of coffee, handed them to Lance, and he passed them into the cell.
After serving the quiet man in the other cell, Lance and Grace picked up the baskets and coffee pot and returned to the outer office. He closed the door to the cell area.
“I’m sorry that guy was so rude to you, Grace. I’m guessing he’s no more than seventeen or eighteen years old and at that age some guys think they’re all grown up and can do anything they please.”
“Don’t worry about it. I could tell he was young and foolish.”‘
“Just so you don’t feel insulted.”
“I’m fine. I’m used to mouthy men. Sometimes they come into the dining room and get a little out of hand.”
“I guess you do have to put up with things like that at times.”
“I don’t have to put up with it long. Frank takes care of men like them in a hurry.” She changed the subject. “Effie sent a plate for you and your deputy.”
“Bryce has gone home for supper. You know he hasn’t been married long, and Lettie expects him to come eat with her. Especially when he has to pull evening duty.”
“I tried to explain to Effie that he probably wouldn’t be here to eat, but she wouldn’t listen. I gave up and brought it anyway.”
“I know how stubborn Effie Vaughn can be.” He moved to his desk. “I bet you haven’t had supper. Why don’t you eat with me?”
“I really should get back to work. Frank is helping in the dining room, but with Sophie sick, I’m sure they need me.”
“It won’t take you long to eat, then you can go. I know things slow down if not almost stop in the dining room by this time. I have something to tell you, and we might as well be eating while we talk.”
Grace was nervous, but she didn’t argue because she wanted to eat with Lance. She poured coffee for them and sat in the chair at the end of his desk. “As I said, I can’t stay long.”
“I won’t detain you long.” Lance sat behind his desk and set the last two plates for them.
She waited for him to say whatever he wanted to, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
He took a bite of the turkey and grinned. “This is good. Miss Effie outdid herself.”
“A hunter brought two big turkeys in this morning. She decided to cook them while they were fresh.”
“I’m glad she did.” He used his napkin. “What I wanted to tell you is that I had a letter from Nelda today.”
Grace brightened. “How is she?”
“Seems to be doing all right, but she said she hadn’t heard from either of her best friends lately.”
Grace blushed. “I do need to write her. I’ll tell Amelia and Wilma they need to write, too.
“I’m sure Nelda will appreciate it. I think she gets lonely at the fort when Spencer is out on maneuvers.”
There was a short silence then Grace said, “I guess you’ll still have three prisoners for breakfast.”
“I may have only two. I’ll let Kemp go if he sobers up. Of course he may want to stay so he can get a good breakfast before he goes back to drinking.”
“Poor man. It’s a shame. Do you think he’ll ever straighten up?”
“Probably not.”
She tried to think of something else to talk to him about. Finally she remembered the other prisoners. “I saw you arrest the cowboy who was shooting up the town, but I don’t know him. Is he new in town? In fact, I’ve never seen the other man either.”
“The mouthy one who raised a ruckus in town is Shawn Parnell. Seems his father is a gambler and is some akin to old Sam McCormick.”
“I don’t know Mr. McCormick very well. He seldom comes to the hotel.”
“I don’t know him very well either. He keeps pretty much to himself.” Lance shook his head. “I asked Parnell how long his father would be in town gambling and he told me it was none of my business. He said his father had a lot of money and could stay as long as he wanted. I guess he figured if he told me how rich his pa was I’d let him go.”
“I think I know you well enough to know you’d never release someone because of their wealth.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t. Parnell’s here until the damages his spree caused are paid for.”
“What about the other man?”
“Bryce caught him trying to seal a horse at the livery stable. He locked him up yesterday. We sent a wire to Cheyanne and found out he’d killed a man there. He’ll go back there to stand trial whenever the prison wagon comes through.”
They talked a little longer, then Grace stood. “I need to get back to work. I’ll send Teddy back for the dirty dishes.”
“Thanks, Grace.” Lance gave her a big smile.
She returned it. She was in a good mood as she stepped out the door, then she noticed Juliette Cramer and her parents pulling their buggy up in front of the hotel. Her good mood vanished.
Chapter 2
Sitting back at his desk to attend to overdue paperwork, Lance was surprised when the door burst open and a man weighing close to three hundred pounds and wearing a suit only a tenderfoot would wear in Settlers Ridge, came stomping in. A lean cowboy who looked to be in his late forties or early fifties followed him.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” The big man actually sounded as if he roared.
Lance laid his papers down. “I’m Lance Gentry, the sheriff here in Settlers Ridge. Who’re you?”
“I’m Nelson Parnell and I want to know what you think you’re doing by throwing my boy in jail?”
“I’ll throw anybody in jail who I catch breaking the law.”
“Well, now that you’ve had your fun, I demand that you let him out right now. After all, he’s just a kid and didn’t know he was doing anything wrong.” His fist looked about the size of a small ham when he banged it on the corner of the desk.
Lance took a breath and forced down his rising anger. In a calm, but firm voice he said, “If he’s old enough to shoot up a town, he’s old enough to pay for it. I’ll release the boy whenever he sobers up, and when he pays for the damage he caused the businesses in town.”
“How much does he owe?” Parnell’s beady eyes bored into Lance’s and he threw a wad of bills on the desk. “There’s eighty dollars. I’m sure that covers any damage he did and then some.”
“I’m afraid that’s not near enough, Parnell. You see your boy, as you call him, shot out several windows in town. Do
you realize how much it costs to order glass window panes and have them shipped to Settlers Ridge?”
“How much then?”
Lance couldn’t help wondering why the obese man hadn’t been brought down by a stroke or a heart attack. Especially if he got this upset very often. Still calm, he said, “I imagine those windows run around ten or twenty dollars each.”
“How many did he break?”
“Let me see. There was one or more in the hotel. One in the gun shop. One in Miss Purdy’s dress shop. Two in the church and a big one in the mercantile. He also shot the door off its hinges at the livery stable and he scared the mayor’s wife so bad that she fell, tore her dress and hurt her knee. I’m not sure how much a trip to the doctor and a dress will cost, but I’d say when we add everything up, your son wasted a good three or four hundred dollars.”
“Like hell, he did. There’s no way I’ll put out that kind of money for my boy just because he was letting off a little burst of steam. This whole damn town could be rebuilt for that.”
“As I said, that’s only an estimate. It could be more.” Lance leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why don’t you come by in the morning? By then I’ll have time to talk to all those who were affected by your son’s little burst of steam. I’ll have a more precise figure then.”
“I’m not coming back in the morning.” Nelson Parnell took four bills from his pocket and threw them on the desk. “This will cover everything.”
Lance picked up the money. “Not quite, Mr. Parnell.”
“What do you mean, not quite?” Parnell yelled.
“There’s the hundred dollars bail money. I can’t let him go until his bail is paid. Besides you’ll have to pay the livery stable for boarding his horse.”
Nelson Parnell’s face turned almost purple. “That’s all the money I have on me.”
“Then you’ll have to do what I suggested in the first place. Come back in the morning.”
The man turned and looked at the cowboy with him. “You got any money on you, Rocky?”
Rocky shook his head.
For a minute, Lance thought Nelson Parnell was going to hit him, but instead he grabbed his money off the desk and yelled, “You’ll regret this, Gentry.” He then turned and stomped out the door.
Rocky, who still hadn’t said a word, lifted an eyebrow, nodded to Lance and went out behind Parnell.
Lance thought this strange, but pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t help chuckling. It wasn’t that he’d planned to keep young Parnell in jail overnight. He would have gladly sent him home with his father if the elder Parnell hadn’t been so belligerent and rude. His actions had hit Lance wrong and the sheriff decided he wasn’t going to kowtow to him. By the way Rocky acted, he figured enough people already did that.
Pushing back his chair and standing, Lance moved to the door that led to the cells.
Shawn Parnell was standing at his cell door grinning. “I guess my old man showed you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve come to let me out haven’t you?”
“Afraid not. I just stepped in to make sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be before I go home.”
“You’re lying. I heard his voice, and I know he wouldn’t leave me here for the night. Rocky will kill him if I don’t come home tonight.”
Lance wondered what he meant by that remark, but he didn’t ask. “Then if somebody kills him, I guess I’ll have to let you out to go to your father’s funeral. That is, if all your debts are paid.”
“You son-of-a-bitch. I’ll get even with you for this.”
“Good night, fellows.” Lance didn’t get the door completely closed when he heard the other two men laughing.
* * * *
The next day tears filled Henrietta’s eyes as she pressed the cool wet cloth against Sophie’s head. She turned to her husband. “She’s burning up, Frank. This doesn’t seem to be helping much, but I don’t know what else I can do.”
“I know. I feel helpless, too.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help out with supper,” Sophie muttered.
Frank patted his daughter’s hand. “Don’t you worry a bit about it, sweetheart. Grace and Effie said they could handle it. I even helped out a little. You’re where you need to be and so is your mother. There’s nothing more important than getting our little girl well and out of this bed.”
“I only wish I hadn’t let Teddy be near her. What if he catches it, too?”
Frank patted his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t think about that now, Henrietta. So far, Teddy seems to be fine.”
“I pray he stays that way. I can’t imagine both my children being sick at the same time.”
“Neither can I.” He stood and sighed. “I hear somebody ringing the front bell. I better go see who it is, but I’ll be right back.”
Henrietta nodded.
Frank unlocked the front door and admitted Sheldon Wagner, the town doctor. “Evening, Doc.”
“Hello, Frank. Has anything changed since I saw Sophie this morning?”
Frank had a worried look on his face. “From what we can tell, her fever keeps getting higher.”
“I know you’re worried. So am I. Yesterday afternoon, I was sure Sophie had a terrible sore throat, but when she had the rash this morning, I knew it was more than that.”
“What is it, Doc?”
“After seeing the rash and looking in my medical journal, I’d say Sophie has the measles.”
Frank frowned. “You’re sure it’s the measles, Doc?”
“Regrettably, yes I am, Frank.”
Frank shook his head. “Henrietta’s trying to keep her as cool as she can, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any good. Sophie’s still burning up.”
“The measles are an awful disease. We can’t do much until her temperature comes down.”
“Is there something else we should be doing?”
“What you and Henrietta are doing is about it. Unfortunately, the measles are a highly contagious disease and we have to keep the patient as isolated as we can. About anybody who comes in contact with your daughter could catch it.”
“Henrietta told me that she’s tried to keep everyone away from Sophie. Especially Teddy.”
“I sure wish those brains back east could come up with something to help stop this thing, but so far they haven’t. It seems we just have to keep the patient cool, try to get liquids into them and leave the rest to the man upstairs.”
Frank closed and locked the hotel’s front door. “Before you go back to Sophie’s room, tell me something, Doc. And I want the truth. Is my little girl going to die?”
“I wish I had a definitive answer for you, Frank, but I don’t. Sophie is a strong healthy young lady, and she may be able to fight it off. It usually starts to get better in a few days or at least in a week, then it’ll hang on for another week or so. It seems that the youngest patients can come through this better than an adult.”
“Sophie’s fifteen. She’s not really a child, but she’s not a woman either.”
“I know, and I wish I could reassure you more, but all we can do is wait and see.”
They moved to the Olsens’ living quarters and entered Sophie’s bedroom. “Hello, Henrietta.”
“Hello, Sheldon.”
“Has there been any change?”
“Not that I can tell. She’s still awfully hot and restless.”
“Let me take a look.”
Henrietta moved back and stood beside Frank as the doctor bent over his patient.
Frank put his arm around his wife’s waist and though he didn’t feel like it, he tried to smile down at her. She looked tired and worried, but still beautiful. He felt his heart twist in his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d been married to this woman for almost twenty years. He loved her with all his heart. It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever feel, but her gentle ways and sweet countenance had caused him to fall in love with her shortly after their marriage. It
took a while, but he finally forgave himself for the fact that he’d only married the fifteen-year-old girl because her father had been such a cruel and unforgiving boss when he worked for him.
Frank found himself thinking back to how it had all come about. He’d been away from the orphanage for six years, during which time he’d he traveled from one town to another working at several odd jobs that kept him alive. Determined to make a better life for himself than what he’d had until his drunken parents died and left him to be sent to the hell-hole called an orphanage, he’d lived frugally and saved all the money he didn’t have to use to survive. When he was eighteen years old Frank found himself in Santa Fe. It was apretty town, but he was about to give up on finding any work when, by chance, he overheard a conversation.
“Yeah, I heard old man Keenon is looking for somebody to take Murk’s place.”
“What happened to Murk?”
“Said he couldn’t take Keenon any longer. The man is a slave driver. In fact, they say his papa owned a bunch of slaves and was furious when the Yankees burned his plantation. Shortly afterward old man Keenon died. Zeb Keenon took what money was left while his brothers were off fighting and come to Santa Fe and built his hotel. He still thinks he has the right to treat his workers just like his papa did his slaves.”
“So Murk quit?”
“Yep. Said he’d rather work for thirty dollars a month as a ranch hand than the fifty Keenon was paying him.”
Frank didn’t wait to hear any more. He now had a plan. To pull it off, he spent enough money to buy a clean shirt and a pair of denims then went to the bath house and cleaned himself up. His plan worked. Keenon hired him that day and young Frank spent almost two year being treated as a slave. In the meantime, he was soaking up all he could about running and managing a hotel. He had decided he’d have one of his own someday.
He’d only been working a week when he ran into thirteen-year-old Henrietta Keenon in one of the halls. He spoke and the shy girl’s green eyes got big. She turned red then nodded to him and her auburn curls bobbed up and down. Unfortunately, Zeb Keenon walked in at the same moment. In a calm, but forceful voice he ordered Frank to come to the stable. There he tied Frank’s hands to one of the beams and ripped off his shirt and gave the man five licks with his bullwhip. He then told him if he ever spoke to his youngest daughter again, he’ll kill him. To this day he’d never explained to Henrietta what had caused the scars on his back.
Grace's Dream Page 2
