Grace's Dream

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by Agnes Alexander


  “I’m not sure my brother is going to come to town so I decided to ride out to that ranch where they’re staying to talk to him.”

  “I haven’t seen him, but I did see his father going into the saloon as I left my office.”

  “Then Shawn might be coming to town.”

  “I wouldn’t swear to it, but he often does follow his pa in.”

  “Then I’ll wait until later. Thanks, Lance.”

  “No sweat.”

  “By the way. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I know you and the waitress in the hotel dining room are friends.”

  “Grace? Yes, I’ve know her all my life, and she’s been a friend since she was a little girl.”

  “Good. Then you’d know.”

  “Know what?”

  “If she is spoken for, or if there is someone special in her life?”

  Lance felt his heart plummet, but he managed to disguise it as well as the sudden anger that came without warning. “If you’re asking if Grace is engaged or something like that, she’s not. Why do you want to know anyway?”

  “I think she’s a lovely young woman and I thought I’d like to get to know her better. I just didn’t want to interfere if she was committed.”

  Lance bit his lip. “What are your intentions?”

  Virgil chuckled. “Sorry, if I’m out of line, Lance, but why are you acting like her father?”

  Forcing a chuckle, Lance said, “It’s just that Grace and my sister were good friends. When they were younger, Grace spent a lot of time at our house and I guess I feel as if I should look out for her.”

  Virgil smiled. “I see. I’m glad my intentions are honorable since she’s like a sister to you.”

  Lance nodded and started moving away. “I’ve got to get to the telegraph office.”

  “Sorry if I held you up.”

  Lance didn’t answer. He was too angry, and he knew he might say the wrong thing. But he didn’t understand why. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Didn’t he think Grace should meet some decent man who would make a good husband? Then, why was he so angry at Virgil Danforth. The man was decent enough to ask before approaching Grace. Still, Lance didn’t like it. Not the least little bit.

  He liked it even less when he saw Grace coming down the street, and Virgil hurrying to meet her. By the time Virgil reached her, they stopped and chatted for a minute. Then he took the basket from her and walked beside her to the jail.

  Lance was fuming. I know I said this is what should happen, but now that it has, it’s not as easy to let her be with another man as I hoped it would be.

  Jerking the door to the telegraph office open, he stomped inside. “Anything for the sheriff?” His voice came out in a growl.

  “You’re sure in a foul mood today, Sheriff.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He tried to temper his voice, but wasn’t doing a very good job. “Is there anything—”

  “Not a thing, Lance. Were you expecting something?”

  “Yeah.” He turned around and snapped. “I’ll be back.”

  The telegraph operator didn’t have a chance to answer because Lance had gone out the door.

  His mood didn’t change. In fact it got worse when he stepped outside and saw Grace headed back toward the hotel. Virgil Danforth was beside her, and she was laughing at something he said.

  “Damn it to hell,” he muttered to himself. “How will I ever be able to stand it knowing some other man is holding her in his arms and doing things only I should be doing with her?”

  * * * *

  Grace dropped the third glass she’d picked up since she returned to the hotel. This one shattered, too. “Grace, if’n you don’t stop breaking glasses we’re gonna have to start serving milk in teacups.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Henrietta smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Grace. We all occasionally have a fumble-finger day when we drop everything we pick up.”

  “I’ll try to be more careful. It’s just that I have a terrible headache.”

  “My goodness, honey. Why didn’t you say so? Go to your room and lie down for a bit,” Henrietta said.

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue with me. I know what a bad headache does to you. I’ve had them a few times myself. Now do like I say.”

  “But the customers.”

  “We only have three customers, and I doubt there’re be any more until the supper hour. Now run along. Effie and I can handle it until Sophie gets back from visiting Benita.”

  Grace didn’t argue any more. She hurried to her room and closed the door behind her before she burst into tears. It wasn’t the headache that hurt so much. It was what Virgil Danforth had said. The sentence kept resounding in her mind. “Lance said nobody he knew had a serious interest in you.”

  He said more, but that was the one thing she couldn’t get out of her mind. She’d known all along she didn’t stand a chance of having a serious relationship with Lance, but it hurt more than she realized it would to know Lance had told someone he didn’t care for her in a special way. How was she going to face him again without bursting into tears?

  Oh, Lance. I love you so much. I’ll never love another man, I know that. I wish I didn’t know how you felt about me, and I could’ve gone on being your friend. But not now. I couldn’t stand being with you knowing you had no special feelings for me and me loving you so. Oh, Lord. What am I going to do? I wish I would die right here in this room and never have to face him again.

  * * * *

  Nelson was just out of sight when Rocky saw Shawn coming in the opposite direction. He was riding fast.

  Rocky paused to wait for him. It wouldn’t be good for Shawn to walk into the house and see Sam McCormick’s body without some type of explanation. What should he tell him? Maybe that the old man stumbled and fell, or simply had a spell and passed out? Or he could tell him the truth.

  Your pa is a murderer, and I’ve covered up for him for the last time. Besides, I don’t like the way he treats you, and it’s time you knew the truth of why.

  Shawn reined his horse up beside Rocky, jumped from the saddle, and began talking fast. “I’ve just seen a bunch of the prettiest horses I’ve ever seen. Mares led by a magnificent stallion. There were pintos and solids and the stallion was black with three white stockings and an almost perfect white star on his nose. Boy, would I love to have a horse like that.”

  “A group of mustangs are always beautiful horses, but it takes a lot to tame one.”

  “Just wish I could try it.”

  Rocky shook his head. “Well, with your arm still in a sling, we won’t be training any wild horses anytime soon, but there is something we need to talk about.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll go with you to the barn to unsaddle and brush down your horse. We’ll talk there.”

  He took hold of the dangling reins and moved toward the barn. “Boy, Rocky, you sure sound serious.”

  “This is serious, Shawn.”

  Shawn shrugged and entered the barn. He unsaddled the horse with his good arm and placed the saddle on a bench. He then removed the headstall and hung it on a nail beside a couple of others. Grabbing a brush from a bucket next to a post, he began to brush the horse’s neck. “Thought you wanted to talk about something, but you ain’t said nothing yet.”

  “McCormick’s dead.” Rocky watched as disbelief spread across Shawn’s face.

  “What happened?”

  “Nelson killed him.”

  “Pa? Why?”

  “I don’t think he meant to, but they were arguing and your pa hit him. You know Nelson sometimes forgets how strong he is. The old man stumbled when he hit him and fell backward. He hit his head on the corner of the fireplace and split his skull. Killed him instantly.”

  “What’s Pa going to do? Make us move again?”

  “He told me to bury the body and he went to town to relieve some cowboys of their money.”
/>   Shawn pause his brushing. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, Shawn, I’m not kidding. I wish I was.”

  “Then I guess you want me to help you bury the old man?”

  “Not this time, Shawn. I’ve made a decision. I’m through doing Nelson’s dirty work.”

  “Does he know this?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what are you going to do about the body?”

  Rocky took a deep breath. “Finish up and turn your horse in to the corral, then come up to the house. I have a story to tell you.”

  Chapter 17

  Lance was in a sour mood. Nothing seemed right since he’d seen Grace walking toward the hotel with Virgil Danforth. No. It wasn’t that she was walking with the man that bothered Lance. It was the fact that she seemed to be enjoying his company more than she should be. If not, why was she looking up at him and laughing as if every word he said was sacred? Of course, Lance realized there had been times when she’d laughed with him, too, but did she look at him as she did Virgil?

  Bryce interrupted Lance’s thoughts when he stuck his head in the door. “Is there anything else I need to do, boss?”

  Lance couldn’t help snapping. “How the Hell should I know?”

  Bryce lifted an eyebrow. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Sorry,” Lance muttered. He said nothing else.

  “I’m going home to get a little rest. I’ll be back for evening duty.”

  “Fine.”

  Bryce chuckled. “Whatever it was, tell Grace you’re sorry and things will be fine between you again.”

  Lance frowned. “Grace has nothing to do with this.”

  “If you say so. See you later.”

  Before Lance could answer Bryce closed the door.

  “Damn,” Lance muttered as he jerked open the desk drawer and took out the paperwork he kept putting off. “He’s a fool. My moods are not controlled by Grace’s actions. Why does he always think they are?”

  He had finished only one paper when the door opened. Cursing under his breath, he turned and was shocked to see Shawn Parnell coming into the office.

  “I need to talk to you, Sheriff.”

  Lance wanted to tell him no, but knew as a sworn officer of the law he couldn’t refuse to see the boy. He shoved the papers back in the drawer. “Come in and have a seat and tell me what you need.”

  Shawn didn’t say anything until he was seated in front of Lance’s desk. “Rocky insisted I come talk to you.”

  “I’m surprised you listened to him.”

  “I didn’t want to. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t let me.”

  “Go with him where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Lance frowned. “Shawn, why don’t you start at the beginning? So far you’ve only succeeded in confusing the Hell out of me.”

  Shawn took a deep breath. “Pa killed him.”

  “Killed who?”

  “Mr. McCormick.”

  Pulling his chair closer to the desk, Lance shook his head. “Let me get this straight. Your pa killed Sam McCormick and Rocky sent you here to tell me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t Rocky come to tell me.”

  “He’s gone.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “I told you. I don’t know. He wouldn’t let me go with him, and he wouldn’t tell me where he was going.”

  “Where’s your pa now?”

  “In the saloon.”

  “Are you telling me that your pa killed Mr. McCormick then came to the saloon?”

  “Yeah. Rocky was supposed to bury the old man and then come to town, but he decided to leave.”

  “How do you know all this, Shawn? Did you see your father kill McCormick?”

  “No. I hadn’t got back from looking at the mustangs until after it happened. When I got back Rocky told me.”

  “So you came here to tell me?”

  “I helped Rocky get his gear together first. It took a while because he’s been with Pa for a long time and he had to pick and choose what he wanted to take with him. He also said he wanted to tell me some things before he left.”

  Lance didn’t think it had ever been harder to get a story out of someone, but he was trying to be patient. “Why did Rocky leave after being with your pa so long?”

  “I didn’t know until today, but he said he was Pa’s older brother and he’d promised their pa that he’d watch out for his brother after the gang broke up. He said he’d got Pa out of a lot of jams when they were robbing banks and stages, but they’d never killed anybody, and he wasn’t going to try to explain a murder now.” Shawn seemed to relax a little. “He said knowing you, you might think he helped Pa kill Mr. McCormick, so he decided the best thing for him to do was leave.”

  “I see.” Lance shook his head, because he didn’t really see. He decided to try one more time to get to the bottom of it all. “Why would Rocky think I would charge him with the murder as well as your pa?”

  “He told me he and Pa were both a part of an outlaw gang that their father ran for about fifteen years. When they tried to rob a train in Kansas, two of the men were killed and four men were shot up pretty bad, including my grandpa and my pa and my pa’s twin brother. Rocky only had a flesh wound and was fine, but Grandpa and the twin died from their wounds. The other man was Sam McCormick. He and Pa made it and Rocky had promised his father he’d always look after the twins. Grandpa never knew one of them died. Rocky said he felt bound by the promise and Pa took advantage of it. He often told Rocky that he had to help him do whatever because their father said so.”

  “So, McCormick was part of the gang?”

  “Yeah. He took most of the money they managed to get from another robbery they pulled off and left the gang. Rocky said Pa told him he’d get McCormick back one day, and I guess he did.”

  Lance realized this was probably why McCormick had signed his ranch over to Parnell. He paused and took a deep breath which gave him time to think about his next question. “How did you come to be with your pa and Rocky, Shawn?”

  “Pa married Mama after her first husband died and they had me. Pa was never around much. He’d come now, and then stay a few days and gamble in the saloons, but he’d soon move on. It was mostly Mama and me and her other son, Virgil. He’s ten years older than me and I thought he liked me, but Pa said he didn’t want me around. Rocky said Pa could be wrong, but I ain’t heard a word from Virgil so I guess Pa was right. Mama died after Pa took me away and he told me Mama left everything to Virgil. After Pa wouldn’t let me go back for her funeral, I figured there was no need to go back at all. She didn’t leave me nothing, and Virgil didn’t want me to come.”

  “Maybe Virgil would have wanted you around, but didn’t know where you were or how to get in touch with you.”

  Shawn frowned. “Think so?”

  “It’s a possibility.” He wasn’t going to tell the boy his brother was in town looking for him. He changed the subject. “Tell me, Shawn, how long have you been with your pa?”

  “I guess about six years. I think I was around ten or eleven when he came and took me away from Mama. I’m almost seventeen now.”

  Lance wrinkled his brow. “Took you away?”

  “He told Mama that he was only going to keep me for a couple of weeks and then he’d bring me back to her. Of course, he never did. I would cry sometimes because I wanted my mama, but he’d beat me. I learned to cry silently.”

  “Was there nobody to help you?”

  “Rocky would always step in and not let him beat me too hard. Sometimes they’d fight about it. I wanted to go away with Rocky because he’s the only one since Mama who cared about me, including my pa. I don’t have nobody else.”

  “You might be surprised.” Lance stood. “You stay here, Shawn. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To the Wildcat to arrest your pa.”

  Shawn got to his feet. “I better go with you.�
��

  “I don’t think you…”

  “He’s my Pa, Sheriff. I owe him that much.”

  Though Lance thought it would be better if he went alone, he could understand how Shawn felt. He nodded. “If you insist, then stay behind me and out of the way.”

  * * * *

  Virgil sat in the corner of saloon with his hat pulled down and nursed his beer. He watched as Nelson Parnell won another hand of poker. He was almost sure he saw Parnell slip a card from the bottom of the deck, but it had happened so fast he wouldn’t swear to it. He knew the cowboys playing cards were oblivious to what the big gambler was doing.

  As he chased Parnell throughout the west, he heard in different towns the man wasn’t an honest card player. He’d also heard several men had died when they accused him of cheating. Of course, the accuser would always be the first to pull his gun, but Parnell was faster. Those who witnessed the incidents had to say it was in self-defense that Parnell had to kill his opponent. After these incidents, Parnell would move to another town. That was one reason he’d been so hard to find.

  Now that he had found him, Virgil knew he had to be smart. He couldn’t go right in and demand Parnell let his brother go. Besides, it had been almost six years since Shawn had been taken. In that length of time, Nelson Parnell could have turned the young boy into somebody Virgil wouldn’t recognize. And from what Lance Gentry had said about Shawn’s actions, this was a good possibility.

  Maybe it was for show, but Parnell lost the next hand. “Guess my lucky streak is ending,” he said with a chuckle.

  “It’s about time,” a cowboy with a scruffy beard said as he picked up the pot and tuned toward the bar. “How about another round of drinks, barkeep?”

  “Hold up on those drinks, Ned.” Lance’s voice carried across the saloon.

  “What do you mean by that, Sheriff?” the scruffy cowboy said. “I just won a hand and I wanna buy my friends a round of drinks.”

  Lance ignored him and moved toward their table. It was then Virgil spied the young man following the sheriff. Shawn. He was almost six feet tall, and he had the beginning of a beard, but there was no mistaking it. It was Shawn. But what the hell was he doing here with the lawman?

  The men got quiet when Lance paused beside the big gambler and said, “Nelson Parnell, you’re under arrest for the murder of Sam McCormick.”

 

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