Someone was shaking her. Mabel groaned and rolled over, pulling the quilt over her head.
Some laughed. Someone male. In her bedroom. Mabel sat up.
Samuel. Not in her bedroom, in their bedroom.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
But he was grinning. It was way too early in the morning for grinning. She threw her pillow at him.
He laughed again as he caught it and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, because he’d spent the night at the jail, in case Howard came back. “Is Mikey okay?”
“I taught him to play poker. He beat me so many times—just like his father.” Then he sobered. “If I could…”
“You’re a good man, Samuel.”
“I wasn’t then. I was selfish. Arrogant. Thought I was smarter than everyone else.”
“You never mentioned that you were a gambling man in your letters.”
“I’m not proud of who I was then. I spent my days sleeping and my nights at the card table, always looking for the next big win.”
“But you changed.”
“Thanks to Mikey’s father for drawing on me. After I shot him—for the first time, I realized there were consequences. That’s why I decided to become a lawman.”
“You were lost. God brought you back to the fold. He can bring anyone back.”
“But not before I ruined Mikey’s life.”
The sadness in Samuel’s voice made Mabel want to hug him. But his posture was so stiff she wasn’t sure if he’d welcome the touch. So instead, she laid her hand on top of his.
“If I’d been a better person, Mikey’s father would still be alive.”
“You don’t know that. And even if it’s true, you don’t know if that would have been a good thing. That’s why it’s called God’s plan, not Samuel’s plan.”
He smiled. “Beautiful and wise. How did I get lucky enough to marry you?”
She smiled back. “Since you’re in a good mood, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Chapter 6
“It’s not that simple,” Samuel insisted as he mopped up the last of the honey-butter with the last of the cornbread. “Not only does Howard need to consent, Mikey would need to consent too. And he still wants to kill me, remember?”
“He doesn’t want to kill you, he wants to prove he’s a man. That’s different.”
“It amounts to the same thing. Not that I’m going to agree to a duel, but why would he agree to be adopted by the man who killed his father?”
“Let me worry about that. All you need to do is get me in to talk to the judge.”
Samuel sighed. “You’re not going to give up if I say no, are you?”
“We’ve only got a few more days before you’re going to have to hand Mikey over to his uncle. Do you have a better plan?”
“I could give the kid fifty dollars and a horse. I bet he’d make it to Mexico before his numbskull uncle found him.”
Mabel’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t.”
Samuel chuckled. “Probably not.”
Mable had no problem finding the courthouse after she walked Samuel to work. The clerk at the front desk was polite, but it was nearly an hour before he escorted her to the judge’s private chambers.
Judge Simpson was an older man with little hair on top of his head, but an outrageous profusion of hair on his face. Tiny spectacles perched on his nose, reflecting the thin slants of light coming through the half-open blinds covering his office window.
It was hard to tell, not being able to see his eyes, but Mabel had the impression that he wasn’t happy to be disturbed. She took a deep breath. “Your Honor, I’m—”
“I know who you are, Mrs. Cruz. How can I help you?”
Mabel sat down and tried to gather her thoughts. “I’m sure you’re aware of the man who attacked two people in the salon last week. His name is Howard Stevens. Well, he has an orphaned nephew—“
“The boy who challenged your husband to a duel?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised that everyone in this small town would know why Mikey was here. “He’s a good-hearted child, Your Honor, just a smidge misguided.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?”
“Howard, his uncle, is mistreating him. Samuel and I would like to adopt him.”
“Deputy Cruz wants to adopt a boy who’s trying to kill him.”
It sounded crazy when you said it like that. “Not exactly, Your Honor. The boy—”
“As long as he has a living relative, the boy is legally a ward of that relative. Has the uncle abandoned the boy?”
“No, but—”
“Has the uncle consented to relinquishing his legal guardianship of the boy?”
“No, but—”
“Then you’re wasting your time. And mine.”
“Howard Stevens is a terrible person. The only reason he’s not in jail right now is that the people he attacked are afraid to press charges. He doesn’t deserve to have custody of Michael.”
Judge Simpson sighed. “Life isn’t fair, Mrs. Cruz. Complaining to me won’t change that.”
And that was that.
Thanking the judge for his time, she left the courthouse with a heavy heart.
As she walked down the main street, she spotted a horse tied in front of the saloon, a palomino just like Howard’s. Oh no, it was too soon. She hurried to the sheriff’s office, where she found Mikey in the cell and sitting on the cot.
He jumped up as she came in. “Miss Mabel, he’s here, and he wants to take me home tomorrow morning and he paid the clerk to drop the charges.”
Samuel sighed and put his playing cards down, then walked Mabel back outside. “What did Judge Simpson say?”
Her throat tightened around the words she didn’t want to say. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“Even if Mikey petitions the court to let us adopt him?”
“Howard has to relinquish his right of guardianship.” A little sob escaped her. “Oh, Samuel, it’s so unfair. You might have to send him to Mexico after all.”
Samuel clasped her hands in his own. “Zachariah’s been sending telegrams all morning, to law enforcement in Mikey’s home town and towns nearby. Just because Mikey doesn’t know about another relative doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“It’s a long shot, though, isn’t it?”
“God’s Plan, not Mabel’s Plan,” he chided. “Have faith, woman.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and forced a smile. “I’ll come by with lunch in a few hours.”
She waited until Samuel back inside before she beelined towards the saloon and barged through the swinging wooden doors.
Relinquish his right of guardianship, the judge had said. It was her last hope.
Not even noon and already there was a card game going on in a dark, smoky corner. Howard sat at a round table with four other men. They all looked up as she approached.
“Mr. Stevens, may I have a word in private with you?”
“No,” he said, gruffly. “Whatever you have to say can be said right here.”
She looked at the other men and was surprised to recognize one who had attended her wedding. She gave him a nod and said, “Mr. Riley, it’s nice to see you again. I believe our last acquaintance was at the church.”
Mr. Riley nodded sheepishly, then looked away.
Howard snorted. “What is it you want, woman? We’re trying to play cards here.”
He shifted in his chair and Mabel saw something thin and white poking out of the hem of his sleeve. A card. He was cheating!
“You’re a confident man, Mr. Stevens. The kind of man who acts like he’s got an ace up his sleeve.”
Howard’s expression didn’t change, but he might have gotten a touch paler.
“I think if your brother were here, he’d advise you to talk with me in private.”
Yes, definitely paler. He’d understood her threat.
<
br /> “Fold.” He threw his cards on the table and scraped his chair back, gesturing for Mabel to follow him upstairs.
She thought of what he’d done to Jean and shook her head. She didn’t dare give him a chance to do the same to her. “Outside.”
Would he follow? She resisted the urge to look back and see. The faint grating sound of the wooden doors swinging open a few seconds after she passed through them gave her a flash of satisfaction.
She rounded on him. “I want you to relinquish your right of guardianship over Mikey.”
“He’s my kin. What kind of uncle would I be if I handed him over to man who killed his father?”
“What kind of uncle makes his only nephew sleep with the goats?”
Howard laughed. “Oh he said that, did he? The boy’s a liar.”
“I’ve seen the bruises he had when he first arrived.”
“How do you know he didn’t get them from the last person he stole something from? The boy’s proven himself a thief. He clearly needs discipline.”
“He needs love. And schooling. And people who care about him.”
“You may wish to exercise some self-control with what you say to me, woman, if you’re so afraid of me.”
Mabel clasped her hands in front of her. “Afraid? Of You? To be honest, I’d gladly take a beating from you if it got rid of you for good. The boy deserves a good life, not a life of being your slave.”
“Who the hell are you to say what he deserves, woman?”
“One might ask what right you have to ruin that child’s life,” she said. “You’re no different than Mikey’s father was. You drink, you gamble, and you don’t give a fig for anyone else but yourself. And you’re going to die the same way too.”
Howard was practically vibrating with rage. “See here, the boy is mine. He’s all that my older brother, may he rot in Hell, left me. He got everything when my father died. The land, the house, and the money. He squandered it on booze, gambling, and the occasional whore. So I’ll take his son and use him for everything I can. Why shouldn’t I benefit from the only thing left my brother had to give?”
There was no arguing with him on this, Mabel could it in his face. So she tried another approach “Be practical, Mr. Stevens. He’ll just keep running away, so his wages will be inconsequential. It costs you time and money to bring him back. He’ll only be a headache to you. I can assure you that.”
Howard growled at Mabel. “I can hobble the boy to be sure he’s incapable of running off.”
Mabel clutched her heart. “You wouldn’t!”
“Thanks to you—I wouldn’t have thought of it otherwise. Maybe you should tell the boy yourself, let him decide if he wants to be a cripple for the rest of his life.”
“I know you think all that trumps what I’m saying. But I’ll give you a day to think about it while I have the papers drawn up.” She made a show of tugging at the cuffs of her dress sleeves. He paled again, but he said nothing as she walked away.
Good, let him stew for a while. She’d bet that by tomorrow, he’d be ready to sign those papers.
As she stalked away from the saloon in a huff, she crossed paths with the somberly-dressed Mrs. Riley, who had just emerged from the post office.
“Mrs. Cruz, coming from the saloon yet again? I had no idea you were a regular.”
Mabel stopped and turned back. “Yes, I was there enjoying the fine company of your dear husband, Mrs. Riley.”
Mrs. Riley laughed. “Dear woman, my husband is at work.”
Mabel wondered if the woman really didn’t know, or if she was just keeping up appearances for the sake of enduring her humiliation. She felt a flash of pity. Either way, for all her piousness, Mrs. Riley wasn’t having a happy life.
Mabel bit her tongue and continued on toward the sheriff’s office, where she told Samuel everything.
“Did I forget to forbid you to confront that sidewinder?” Samuel said, looking stricken. “What if he’d beaten you, like he beat Jean? Or killed you, to keep you quiet?”
“I insisted we talk outside. I was pretty sure you’d hear me scream.”
“You were pretty sure.” He closed his eyes. Praying? Or just struggling to hold his temper? When he opened them, he said, “You will never do that again, do you understand me?”
She nodded, taken aback by his intensity.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Promise. Me.”
“I promise.”
When she told him about the cards Howard had hidden up his sleeve, Samuel’s eyebrows went up. “Just like his brother.”
“Can you arrest him for that?”
“Cheating at cards? No. And even if I could, that wouldn’t be enough to convince Judge Simpson to help us. But I can ask one of the other deputies to keep an eye on the saloon.”
“In case he cheats.”
Samuel sighed. “Mabel, think about this for a minute. If we don’t interfere, sooner or later Howard’s going to get himself killed at the poker table. Mikey’s eventually going to be free anyway.”
“That could be months. Or years.” She lowered her voice so the boy wouldn’t hear. “He threatened to cripple Mikey to keep him from running away again.”
Samuel looked like he was going to be sick. “There’s nothing I can legally do. You’re asking me to break the law. We’d both have to move somewhere else, start over.”
“We’d be together,” Mabel breathed. “I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m with you and Mikey is safe.”
“Go to your meeting,” Samuel said.
“But—”
“Trust me.”
How could she not?
Mabel heard voices as she entered the church and made her way to the meeting room at the back, where her wedding reception had been held.
All heads turned to look at her as she entered—the meeting was already in progress?
Some smiled at her, others frowned. Mrs. Riley looked triumphant.
Mabel pasted on a big smiled. “I’m so sorry, I must be late. I thought we started at four.” She slid into an empty seat and removed her Bible from her reticule.
“Three-thirty,” one woman said. “But that’s fine, now you know for next week.”
Mabel looked at Mrs. Riley. “You said four.”
The woman feigned surprise. “I assure you I told you three-thirty, dear. You must’ve misheard me. You were in a rush leaving the saloon after all. Maybe the drink had you feeling a bit buzzy.”
Mabel looked at her and frowned. “I was not drinking. Never do.”
Another woman looked at Mabel with disgust. “The saloon? What business you had in there?”
“I was there to talk to a horrible man about adopting his orphaned nephew. If anything, I was doing God’s work.”
One of the women leaned over to the one next to her and whispered a little too loudly, “I bet!” They both giggled.
Emma Lou, who had invited Mabel to the meeting, looked around the circle, clearly appalled.
“Ladies, please. There’s no need to act in a way which is ungodly. Perhaps we could be of help to Mrs. Cruz in her struggle to help this young boy.” She turned to Mabel. “He’s the boy who was at your wedding, with Jean?”
“The same boy who stole a pair of shoes from the mercantile?” Mrs. Riley asked, ignoring Emma Lou’s pleading look.
“There were extenuating circumstances. If you heard the boy’s story about how his uncle treats him you’d surely feel sorrow for him. No matter what you think of me.”
Mrs. Riley smiled sweetly. “What should we think of you? You came to the fine Deputy Cruz through a catalogue. Why would a woman as good-looking as yourself feel compelled to do such a thing? One might say you’re pretty enough to be one of the women who works at the saloon, getting paid for your favors. Is that why you wanted so badly to leave your hometown and look elsewhere for a husband who had no idea of what you were?”
Mable stood and nodded at Emma Lou. “Thank you for the invitation. I fear I must be going.”
Mabel walked out with her head held high, but as she left the church, she felt like crying. She’d had such high hopes for this new chapter in her life, but it seemed she was alienating everyone around her, risking her reputation for the sake of helping Jean. Risking her marriage and possibly even her husband’s life in order to help Mikey. How had it all gone so wrong?
Behind her she heard a door slam open. When she turned, she saw more than two dozen of the women marching toward her, Emma Lou at the forefront. All she could do was stare at them in confusion.
“We’re starting our own Bible study group,” Emma Lou announced. “And we’d be honored if you’d join us. Jean too, whenever she’s able.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to—“
“Mrs. Riley doesn’t speak for all of us,” one of the women said.
“Or even most of us,” added another.
“My house, tomorrow after supper.” Emma Lou said. “You’ll be more than welcome.”
Chapter 7
Mabel marveled as she walked home, grappling with this new turn of events.
Maybe she didn’t have to be an outcast for trying to help Jean.
And if God was going out of his way to make it possible for her to stay in Resurrection, maybe he would also show her how she could keep Mikey with her?
She’d just passed the swinging wooden doors when a loud bang startled her out of her reverie. Even before he emerged from through the swinging doors, she knew it would be Howard who’d fired.
Another man followed him—Mrs. Riley’s husband. Mabel flattened herself against the nearest wall. Two more loud bangs made her jump.
Mr. Riley fell to the ground.
Legs wobbling, Mabel backpedaled until she ran into the saloon’s hitching post.
Howard held his pistol high up in the air and shot it off again. “Who else would like to call me a cheat?”
Mabel slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from uttering a peep. She’d made it abundantly clear to Howard that she knew about the cards he’d had up his sleeves. If he noticed her there, he might just shoot her to keep her from talking, and pretend it was an accident.
Samuel's Secret (Mail-Order Brides of Resurrection 1) Page 4
