Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “He is evil, pure evil,” Michael said, “But thankfully he won’t be harming anyone else.”

  “What do you mean?” Doctor Littlefield asked, looking away from Michael as he listened to Samuel’s heartbeat.

  “Because he’s tied up in the pigsty,” Michael grinned, “Where he belongs.”

  “Good on ‘ya,” Doctor Littlefield chuckled, before turning serious at once.

  “Now I am going to need hot water and a towel,” he added seriously, looking back at Samuel, “This young man is hanging by a thread.”

  Mrs. Hammond had come downstairs and was now assisting Doctor Littlefield. Lillian made sure there was enough hot water ready, and Doctor Littlefield had cleaned the gunshot wound on Samuel’s hand, thoroughly, and was opening Samuel’s mouth to give him a liquid from a dark brown bottle.

  Mrs. Hammond stroked over Samuel’s face with a wet towel. Michael walked back and forward between the kitchen and the backroom. They didn’t have much time, but he had to give Doctor Littlefield time to treat Samuel. In the note that Michael had sent to Benjamin, he had only said tonight, but at the pace of the proceedings with the Doctor, they might be too late to ride.

  Michael considered to leave now, and ride to town at once. But he had to remind himself that they had to be clever. However, ever since Mrs. Hammond sent away the big brute earlier, he was worried that they would go to check on the cabin where the children were supposed to be.

  “He’s awake,” Mrs. Hammond said as she came running down the hallway. At once, Michael jumped ahead, closely followed by Lillian. They entered the now crowded room, and Lillian gave a tearful sigh once she saw Samuel propped up, covered in bandages.

  “ Miss Walters,” Samuel croaked, and Lillian hurried towards him.

  “It’s good to hear you talk.”

  “Where am I?” he asked confusedly.

  “You’re safe,” Michael said.

  “Well, for now,” Doctor Littlefield said gravely, “I came just in time. The wound on his hand had an infection. I cleared most of it away and stitched him up, but I will need to see him again tomorrow. It would be best if he came back with me…”

  “That’s not possible, I’m afraid,” Michael interjected, “They absolutely must not know that we have him here.”

  “I understand. But I must urge you to keep his wound clean and change his bandages every four hours.”

  “I will do that,” Mrs. Hammond said, nodding her head with urgency.

  “Where… Ray?” Samuel asked nervously, looking around the room as if he expected Ray to jump from the wardrobe at the far end.

  “We have him locked up,” Michael said, approaching Samuel.

  “I know you have been through a lot, but I am going to have to ask you if you can give us any information about Jacob Frazier.”

  “I can’t,” Samuel slurred.

  “Jacob is my uncle, and despite everything he did, I still love him,” Lillian said softly, “But he needs to pay for what he did, and right now, you can help us catch him.”

  “He,” Samuel began and stopped to breathe deeply, “At first we were only supposed to keep you away for one or two nights. Ray disobeyed Jacob’s orders by keeping you tied up—we were supposed to keep you safe and not harm you in any way. But I don’t think Ray cared, at all,” he stopped to catch his breath, as every word leaving his mouth seemed to cause him excruciating agony.

  Finally, he continued: “In order to stop him, you need to find all his spies. But if you aren’t quick enough, they will catch you, and he will escape again… Like he always does.”

  “How can we find these spies?” Michael asked.

  “All of his workers are supposed to inform his cronies about anything suspicious,” Samuel continued, “If you try to storm him, they will stop you. They will expect you to try to attack them.”

  “That means that we will need to find a way to surprise them,” Michael, “And I know exactly how we will do that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Now, mind you, this plan might sound mad,” Michael forestalled.

  “What is it?” Doctor Littlefield said.

  “We are going to have to surprise them,” Michael continued, “And I think a wild distraction is going to do the trick.”

  “Mr. Hammond, we are going to need your carriage.”

  “No problem,” Mr. Hammond replied.

  “And you two,” Michael said, looking in turn at Mr. Hammond and Doctor Littlefield, “I have to ask you to trust me, and I am also going to have to ask you to take a big risk.”

  “I will do anything,” Mr. Hammond said at once.

  “If this will mean that the criminals behind all of the suffering that has been happening in our town will be caught, count me in,” Doctor Littlefield said slowly.

  “They already know that you were brought here to treat Mrs. Hammond,” Michael said, “But what we will do is surprise them into thinking that it was much more serious than simply a weak heart.”

  “Are you saying?” Doctor Littlefield asked.

  “They will not be surprised to see the local doctor rushing to his office, in a strange carriage, if they think it is a matter of life and death,” Michael finished.

  “You mean to pretend that my wife is in great distress, possibly dying?” Mr. Hammond said.

  “I do,” Michael said simply, “This will give us a chance to travel, hidden in the back of the carriage, back to Rust Canyon.”

  “What if they stop you and take a look into the carriage?” Mrs. Hammond asked, “I should ride with the Doctor.”

  “I have another idea,” Lillian said softly, “One that I think might affect Uncle Jacob more.”

  “What is it?” Michael asked.

  “What if the person in the back of the carriage isn’t Mrs. Hammond,” she hesitated, “But instead its… Me.”

  There was a shocked silence. Michael stared at Lillian, slowly processing what she had just said, finally he said: “Absolutely not!” Michael forbad, “I will not let you,” he looked fiercely at her.

  “Michael, I think it’s the only way,” Lillian said.

  “I don’t want you to be in danger,” Michael said softly, walking towards her and taking her hand in his.

  “I won’t be,” she smiled, “I know you will protect me.”

  * * *

  This is insane, Michael thought, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. The house was buzzing with the preparation, and with every second he was regretting to agreeing to this. At least his plan would have meant that Lillian remained safe back at the Hammond farm. Mr. Hammond was outside preparing the carriage, and Mrs. Hammond was helping Lillian get ready.

  Mrs. Hammond had brought out a small tin of white powder, which had long since fallen out of fashion to use, and was brushing it over Lillian’s face, making her appear to be pale as the moonlight. If this plan did not work, Lillian would be back with her uncle, and everything they had gone through in these past days would have been for nothing.

  “Well, son,” Doctor Littlefield said as he re-entered the kitchen, dressed in his black cloak and holding his medical bag, “Are you ready for this?”

  “I guess I must be. How about you?”

  “Oh, I will be all right,” Doctor Littlefield chuckled.

  “How do I look?” Lillian said, walking towards them, giving Michael a small wink. She had put on her old dress again, which was filthy and ripped and covered in blood. The sight was disconcerting, to say the least.

  “You always look beautiful,” he said, “You could not look bad even if you tried.”

  “He’s quite right,” Doctor Littlefield smiled, walking passed them, leaving them alone.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Michael asked, seriously.

  “I am,” Lillian replied, “Despite everything, I think my uncle loves me, in his own twisted way.”

  “Who could know you and not love you,” Michael whispered, gently stroking her cheek. Lillian closed he
r eyes at his touch and leaned into his hand. Michael wished he could have scooped her up in his arms and run away with her to somewhere safe. But as soon as the moment had begun, it was over. A voice down the hallway was calling Lillian’s name. She reluctantly walked away from Michael and followed the sound of the voice. Michael was about to follow when Mr. Hammond picked his shoulder.

  “Come and take a look at this,” Mr. Hammond said, indicating to Michael to follow him outside.

  “What is it?” Michael asked once they had arrived outside to the carriage that stood in the middle of the farmyard.

  “Look here,” Mr. Hammond said, pointing to the inside of the carriage. Michael noticed a hidden compartment just below the back left wheel, big enough to fit a man inside it.

  “What is this?” Michael asked, looking more closely at it.

  “This carriage used to belong to the bank,” Mr. Hammond explained, “It’s an old and rusty one, but they were about to chop it up for firewood when I asked if I could buy it. It’s quite enough for me to transport my vegetables. But when the bank was transferring gold, they used to hide it here, in case they were raided.”

  “This is great,” Michael said, impressed.

  “Even if they do take a look inside, you will remain hidden out of sight,” Mr. Hammond said.

  “We should get going,” Michael said, looking at the sky, which was growing darker. Mrs. Hammond and Lillian walked towards the carriage.

  “Ready?” He asked Lillian, who nodded silently and looked distracted. He helped her get into the carriage and then followed her.

  “Will you be all right?” Mr. Hammond asked his wife, concernedly.

  “We will be safe,” Mrs. Hammond replied, “You should not worry about us; they need your help now.”

  “I hate to leave you,” he said.

  “Just hurry back.” She kissed her husband’s cheek gently.

  “Besides, I know where we keep the gun,” she laughed. They all joined her laughter, and soon they were on their way. Mr. Hammond and Doctor Littlefield in the front, and Michael and Lillian hid away in the back.

  * * *

  The ride was bumpy, but thankfully Mr. Hammond rode slowly. But the carriage was old and not comfortable, and Lillian flinched every time they hopped up and down, after riding over a hole in the road. Michael moved to hold Lillian. He pulled her into his arms and held his arms around her in a protective manner. She curled up to him and clutched tightly to his arms.

  “Thank you,” she whispered gratefully.

  “Lillian,” Michael said.

  “Yes, Michael,” she replied.

  “I want you to know that whatever happens later, that I…” he began, but Lillian cut him off.

  “Please don’t,” she pleaded.

  “What?” he asked, surprised.

  “Don’t say goodbye now. It will only make everything more difficult,” she said sadly.

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” Michael replied.

  “You weren’t?”

  “No,” Michael smiled, “I wanted to ask you, once everything is over if you would allow me to keep you company—properly.”

  Even in the dark carriage, he was able to see her wide grin.

  “I would be delighted to,” Lillian replied giddily. Michael pulled her close to him and tried to waft off the thoughts that assaulted his mind constantly, ever since they sat in the carriage. The constant worry that this would all go wrong.

  After riding for a long time, Doctor Littlefield knocked on the carriage from where he was sitting.

  “We’re approaching Rust Canyon, get into positions,” he called.

  Michael moved around, which was not easy in the small space they were in. Lillian held open the hidden compartment, and he slowly slid down, out of sight.

  “I’ll close it now,” Lillian said, gently closing the compartment, enclosing Michael in complete darkness.

  The final leg of the journey was tense. Michael could hardly breathe, and despite his best efforts into trying to hear what was going on outside, the creaking of the carriage was much too loud. Then they began slowing down, which surprised him, given how short a while ago they had been approaching Rust Canyon. Surely, they could not be there yet.

  When they stopped, two firm knocks were heard from the front of the carriage—a warning. Michael heard voices outside and braced himself. He had his gun up by his chest, ready to shoot. The muffled voices sounded low and dangerous, but when Doctor Littlefield began talking, Michael could finally hear what they were saying. Clearly, the men outside were right by them now.

  “Move away,” Doctor Littlefield said sternly.

  “My, my, what a hurry we are in,” one of the strange voices said.

  “Indeed,” the other one chuckled.

  “Now, why are you out so late, Doc,” the first voice jeered.

  “I must go to my office,” Doctor Littlefield insisted.

  “What’s in the back, doc?” The second voice asked.

  “Don’t you know there’s a mad man out there?” The first voice cackled.

  “Move right now, or I’ll shoot,” Mr. Hammond said seriously.

  “You should know better, Mr. Hammond,” the first voice said, “Oh, yes, I know who you are. I would lower your weapon if you ever want to see your grandchildren again.”

  “We found Lillian Walter,” Doctor Littlefield said at once. There was a deafening silence after his proclamation.

  “You found Miss Walter?” The first voice asked sternly, “Liar!” he then spat.

  “She’s in the back, and if I don’t get her to my office, she might die,” Doctor Littlefield shouted, and at once, the carriage began to move. Michael heard the whinny of horses, which he imagined had moved away suddenly. The sound of hooves behind came fast approaching, and Michael, being in the back, could hear them shout:

  “Get back to the warehouse,” a voice yelled, “See where Ray is.”

  “We have to tell him,” the other voice called back.

  “Are you mad?” The other man called, “What if it’s not her? Go and check and be quick. If we are wrong… He is not a forgiving man.”

  The ride to the doctor’s office was, thankfully, not long. Michael kept hitting his head on the side of the carriage, but he remained as still as possible. Finally, they stopped. Michael could hear approaching voices, and someone opened the carriage.

  “Holy, Mary mother of God,” the man that had been following them exclaimed, “It’s her… We’re all gone.”

  * * *

  “Move!” Doctor Littlefield screamed, and the bustle of sound was heard, and the carriage dipped slightly as someone stepped into the carriage.

  “Help me, Marvin,” he said to Mr. Hammond. The carriage dipped again, but suddenly Doctor Littlefield shouted, “Don’t you dare come near her!”

  There was much commotion, and then the carriage was still again. Someone walked passed the carriage, and Michael could hear them say, “Who was Doc Littlefield carrying into his office?”

  “Looked like a woman,” someone else said.

  Michael moved slightly, wanting to look outside, but he didn’t dare yet.

  “I’ll move the carriage,” he heard Mr. Hammond call nearby.

  “Mr. Hammond?” the person by the carriage said. Michael now realized it was Daniel Tillings, “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t have time to explain,” Mr. Hammond said, jumping up, and then the carriage began moving again. He rode for a short while until he stopped after a wide turn.

  “You should come out right now,” Mr. Hammond said, opening the carriage door, “But be quick.”

  Michael pushed back the lid and crawled out of the small compartment. “Thank you,” Michael said, jumping down and at once he stepped to the back, hiding behind the carriage.

  “Good luck,” Mr. Hammond said, walking away from him. Michael peered behind the carriage, which Mr. Hammond had left behind the tavern. More folks were walking towards the Doctor’s of
fice; the word traveled fast here. Michael walked behind the tavern and pulled his hat down. He ran the long way toward the back of the Sheriff’s office, constantly looking around to see if anyone was watching.

  But he needn’t bother really, as everyone’s attention seemed to be on the Doctor’s office. Michael knocked on the back window of the Sheriff’s office, making sure to remain out of sight. He heard movement inside, and then the window opened.