Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  How could I have been so stupid? Michael reprimanded himself.

  “Of course,” Michael exclaimed.

  “The fires must be his wrongdoing,” Lillian said.

  “He is the one that purchased the burnt lots and planned on rebuilding the town; he has slowly been taking over the town,” Michael replied.

  “That must mean…” Lillian hesitated, “Is it possible that Uncle Jacob’s behind my father’s murder?”

  “It might very well be,” Michael said, “Hold on, let me show you something.” He walked back to where he had dropped his rucksack and pulled out Philip Walter’s journal.

  “This was your father’s,” he added, handing Lillian the book. She took it with trembling hands.

  “Father,” she exclaimed softly. She leafed through it and looked up at Michael, confused, “I don’t understand.”

  “Your father knew that something was going on,” Michael explained, “He had realized that someone was behind the fires and he had found a pattern, of possible targets.”

  “He did?” Lillian gasped.

  “I think he was working with my father on this,” he continued, “But I don’t have any proof of that. My father sent me letters with a coded warning about tragedies in Rust Canyon, and it correlates with your father’s writing.”

  Lillian was about to close the journal when she noticed something. She opened the journal again and looked carefully at the book cover.

  “What is it?” Michael asked.

  “This is just uneven,” Lillian said, looking at the leather fastening that covered the journal. “I know father liked to bind his own books, but it would often cause the pages to misalign. Sometimes the pages would stick together.” She gently pulled on one of the pages, which turned out to be two pages, crammed together.

  “Hot dang!” Michael exclaimed, “What does it say?”

  Lillian straightened the page and read her father’s words, her voice shaking: “Something very serious has happened—I can feel it in my bones. I don’t believe in coincidences, never have. He is up to something.

  I can see no other explanation, although it pains me even to write this. I need more information, although there is no doubt in my heart anymore. I will need to be careful, and I must speak with the Sheriff soon.

  I worry that he will stop at nothing. If everything I suspect is true, he will not stop for anything. But I have to think of my own family. I must do this for them. No one can know, except for Sheriff Flemming and me.”

  Lillian finished reading and had tears streaming down her cheeks again. Michael walked closer to her and stroked away the tears.

  “He must have been talking about Uncle Jacob,” Lillian sobbed. Michael put his arm around her when Ray growled from the ground.

  “Your father deserved what he got,” Ray spat.

  “How dare you,” Michael bellowed.

  “You are as dead as a doornail, once your uncle finds out what you know,” Ray cackled.

  “What do you mean?” Lillian said.

  “I mean, you should have stayed away, then everything would have worked out,” Ray retorted.

  “You better start talking,” Michael growled, crouching down next to Ray.

  “Huh, who’s going to make me?” Ray taunted, but he gasped as Michael pushed his knee tightly onto Ray’s back.

  “Speak!” Michael commanded, pushing harder down, causing Ray to gasp harder.

  “Fine,” he gargled, and Michael loosened his knee slightly.

  “Your father thought that he could leave Rust Canyon, and take away all his money with him,” Ray began, “Frazier wasn’t about to let you go out of his sight.”

  “Let me go?” Lillian asked.

  “Your uncle knew what having you around could mean,” Ray growled, “A fair little maiden, which he could offer to one of his investors. He had been waiting a long time for you to grow up, and he wasn’t going to let your father ruin this business deal.”

  “What!” Lillian gasped, and Michael was shaking with rage.

  “Your uncle waited until your father tried to withdraw his funds from the bank, and then we staged a robbery,” Ray said gleefully, “Oh, I waited a long time for him, I sure did.”

  “You killed my father!” Lillian yelled.

  “Oh, I wish I had,” Ray continued, “But your uncle demanded it be him… He wanted to look your father in the eye when he shot him.”

  Lillian felt the world spinning around her, and she lost her balance. Michael leaped up and caught her just as she was about to faint. This was too much. Uncle Jacob killed my father! How can he have been this cruel? And he has deceived us all this time.

  “Lillian?” Michael said worryingly, “Come on now, please, my sweet.” He had helped her sit down and was stroking her cheek gently.

  “I cannot believe it,” Lillian cried, “How can he have done this?”

  “I don’t have the answer to that,” Michael replied, “But you have my word that he will not get away with this.”

  “You have no idea what you are getting yourselves into,” Ray bellowed, but Michael stood up, looking annoyed.

  “I have had enough of you,” he said, picking Ray up and walking towards the room Lillian had been kept in. He threw him on the mattress and closed the door behind him, barricading it with a piece of wood.

  “Lillian,” Michael said gently, “We should get away from here. I will deal with this scum later,” he nodded in the direction of the room he had just vacated.

  “All right,” Lillian agreed.

  “Come on now,” Michael said, helping her stand up.

  “What about Samuel?” Lillian asked suddenly, looking at the still figure lying on the ground.

  “Who’s Samuel?” Michael asked.

  “He is,” Lillian said, “He helped me, Michael, and this is what Ray did when he found out.” Michael looked at the mangled appearance of the young man. He bent down to see if he was breathing.

  “But he is one of them?” Michael said, looking at Lillian.

  “Samuel is a kind man,” Lillian continued, “He cut my ties loose, and he took care of me,” she pleaded.

  “All right then.” Michael heaved Samuel up, who was unconscious and carried him out of the warehouse. Lillian walked closely behind him, carrying his rucksack. Once they reached outside, the sun was shining, and the sky looked beautiful. Lillian stopped to gaze at the horizon, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the sun’s rays on her skin. Michael found his horse, tied to the back, and another one as well, which must be Ray’s horse.

  “I should take all the horses with me,” Michael pondered, “Are you well enough to ride?” he asked.

  “I am,” Lillian said, surprising herself with her determination.

  “Of course,” Michael smiled, “I would not expect anything less from you.”

  * * *

  Michael led the way back from the warehouse. He was riding his horse again, who had seemed pleased to see his owner again. Michael had managed to heave Samuel up onto the horse he took from Ray, but he rode closely beside him to keep him from falling off. He had fastened the stirrups tightly around Samuel’s feet to keep him in place.

  Behind them, Lillian rode on Mr. Hammond’s calm and steady steed. Michael looked around constantly, trying to see if anyone was observing them; they were, after all, a conspicuous trio. Once they reached the cluster of trees that Mrs. Wesley had marked on the map, Michael slowed down to a stop. It was now morning, and they could expect to meet people on the road, which could be fairly hectic during this time of day.

  “Here, take this,” Michael said, handing Lillian his jacket and handkerchief.

  “What should I do with this?” Lillian asked, accepting the clothing.

  “Put it on,” Michael continued, “And you should cover your hair.”

  “Why?”

  “We still don’t know who we can trust, and I don’t want anyone to know that we have found you,” Michael said.

  “I understand,” L
illian replied thoughtfully, “But are we not going back to Rust Canyon?”

  “No,” Michael replied simply.

  “Where are we going?” Lillian asked.

  “We will go back to Little Ivywood,” Michael said, as Lillian put on the jacket and tied her hair back and covered with the handkerchief.

  “Little Ivywood?” Lillian said, surprised.

  “Mrs. Wesley’s parents live there,” Michael explained.

  “Oh, I see,” Lillian said.

  “Ready?” Michael asked gently.

  “How do I look?” Lillian asked with a small grin.

  “You look as beautiful as ever,” Michael replied at once.

  “You are sweet,” Lillian smiled, “I sincerely doubt that.”

  “You could not look bad even if you tried,” Michael quipped back playfully.

  “Smooth-talker,” Lillian teased and pulled on the reins to keep moving.

  They only met two riders during their ride, and apparently they were disinterested in these fellow travelers, even seemed a little put off by their dirty, and in Samuel’s case, bloody appearance. Michael kept his head bowed and mumbled, “Good Morning,” to them.

  One of the two riders looked at Lillian’s dirty and ripped dress curiously but seemed to think not much of it. Both Michael and Lillian sighed a breath of relief once they had passed the two riders and picked up the pace as much as they could.

  “Do you think they recognized us?” Lillian asked concernedly.

  “I don’t think so,” Michael replied, looking behind him at the retreating form of the two riders, “But we should hurry in any case.”

  “We turn here,” he added, pointing to the road that led to the Hammond farm.

  Michael felt a small sense of foreboding as he rode, again, the road that led to the farmhouse. But his feeling of mistrust evaporated once they approached the farmyard, and the sound of children laughing and playing met them. They stopped playing as they saw the new arrivals, running to their grandfather, who sat in front of the house, with his rifle in his lap. Mr. Hammond stood up, holding out his weapon but lowered it when he recognized Michael.

  “Bella, come here,” he called towards the house. In a little while, Mrs. Wesley and her mother appeared from the house.

  “Morning,” Michael greeted them.

  “I think a good cup of coffee would do us all good,” he added with a smile, gesturing to Lillian.

  “Miss Walter!” Mrs. Wesley exclaimed, running towards her, “You’re safe, thank the Heavens.”

  “Come on down,” she helped Lillian dismount the horse, “Look at you,” Bella stroked Lillian’s cheek and cried silently.

  “I will heat water for you so that you can take a bath,” Mrs. Hammond said. The three women walked together into the house, and Mr. Hammond walked to the horse Lillian had been riding. Lillian turned around to look at Michael before she entered the house. She gave him a dazzling smile and chuckled as the three children came running after them, curious about their new guest.

  Michael dismounted and stretched, wincing slightly as his whole body ached and stung from the lack of sleep and his recent fight with Ray. The sound of hooves could be heard, and Michael looked up the road he and Lillian had just arrived from. Rex was riding towards them, looking pleased as he noticed Michael.

  “I thought I saw you,” Rex said, dismounting and joining Mr. Hammond and Michael.

  “Who is this?” he asked, pointing to Samuel.

  “This is one of the captors,” Michael replied.

  “This is one of them?” Mr. Hammond interjected angrily.

  “Apparently, he helped Lillian, and this is the consequences for his kindness,” Michael explained.

  “Let’s get him down,” Rex said, and together the three of them carried the still half-unconscious man towards the stable.

  “We can keep him here, I don’t want him frightening the women or the children,” Mr. Hammond said, looking at the bloody and swollen face of the young man.

  “I also don’t much fancy having this man in my house, no matter what young Miss Walter says,” he added sternly.

  “That’s understandable,” Michael said.

  “He could prove useful,” Rex said, “If we can keep him from the men responsible for this, he might be a valuable source of information for us.”

  “I know who is behind this,” Michael said, looking at Rex, “It’s Jacob Frazier.”

  “Jacob Frazier?” Rex repeated, furrowing his brows, “Are you certain?”

  “I am,” Michael said simply, “His crony, Ray Jennings, was the one that took Lillian.”

  “Where is Ray?” Rex asked.

  “I had to leave him at the warehouse,” Michael replied.

  “We should not leave him there,” Rex said, pacing back and forth.

  “I agree,” Michael said, absentmindedly stroking over his injured arm, “I will be ready to ride back soon.”

  “No,” Mr. Hammond said, “I will ride with Rex, you need to rest young man.”

  “That is a good idea,” Rex agreed.

  “No, I should go,” Michael objected, but Mr. Hammond cut him off.

  “You look dead on your feet, and besides, you should stay with your girl,” Mr. Hammond said fatherly.

  “He’s right,” Rex said, “You are of no use if you do not rest and gather your strength.”

  “But what should we do with Ray?” Michael asked,

  “Let me take care of that,” Rex said.

  “I just returned from the local post office here in Little Ivywood, where I sent a telegram to the Sheriff’s office in Gatesville,” he added.

  “What did you did you tell them?” Michael asked.

  “I told them we needed more men here, but I wrote it in code,” Rex said. They were walking out from the stable, leaving Samuel there to rest, after Mr. Hammond had laid a tattered blanket over him.

  “Why in code?” Michael asked.

  “I have the suspicion that these people,” Rex began, “Jacob Frazier,” he corrected himself, “Have someone on the inside in the post office.”

  “Really? What makes you say that?” Michael replied.

  “The way your father wrote in his letters to you was most conspicuous, and I find it strange that when the warning letter I sent you, was supposed to arrive, the post office in Rust Canyon burns down,” Rex continued. “It was by a pure chance that I arrived in Rust Canyon, to pick up a convict after your junior Sheriff sent us a letter. It became clear that you were nowhere to be found at that time, and after a little investigation, I realized that you never received my letter.”

  “It all fits,” Michael said thoughtfully.

  “Now, we should go and get this Ray fellow,” Rex said, looking at Mr. Hammond.

  “Let’s get that mongrel,” Mr. Hammond said determinately.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lillian walked into the warm and charming home of the Hammonds. Isabella Wesley stood beside her, and Lillian realized that Isabella had her arm around her, ready to grab her if she fell. Mrs. Hammond had gone up the stairs to prepare the bath. Suddenly, Lillian was overwhelmed by everything, as if she didn’t have the power to keep up appearances anymore. Without warning, she tripped and nearly fell, but Isabella was ready and caught her.

  “Come here, sit down,” Isabella said, guiding Lillian to a comfortable armchair in the sitting room.

  “Oh, thank you,” Lillian whispered, “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s the shock,” Isabella explained gently.

  “I felt absolutely fine before, but now I seem to have lost all my strength,” Lillian said.

  “Sally, dear,” Isabella called to her eldest daughter, “Fetch Miss Walter a glass of water.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Sally replied, walking purposefully to the kitchen.

  “She is such a good girl,” Lilian smiled.

  “She sure is. I think she likes to have something else to think about.”

  “What d
o you mean?” Lillian asked.

  “Didn’t Michael tell you?” Isabella replied, surprised.

  “Tell me what?” Lillian replied.

  “Well, they, um…” Isabella began, but her voice caught in her throat, and she shook her head angrily.