“No, you won’t. I’ll arrest them, and they’ll stand trial. You’re sure you didn’t forget that stew, and it caught fire?”
“Positive,” Underwood scowled.
“Sheriff Clay,” Judge Magarey said as he walked across the street. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The sheriff explained about the fire, the possible causes, and the argument between Underwood and Mr. Willoughby.
“Well, you investigate, and if you find this was arson, we’ll have a trial. I’d enjoy having a trial that doesn’t involve women and broken hearts. Of course, we still need to hold court in the church since the saloon is gone. As soon as the ground thaws in spring, I’m putting up that community building with offices and a real courtroom. Do you think Underwood caused the fire?” Judge Magarey asked as he took a few steps closer to survey the remnants of the building.
“Not sure. Underwood said he was behind the bar with stew cooking when the fire started in the kitchen. I need to find a witness if there is one. The question is, why would anyone, including Underwood, want to burn down the saloon?”
The judge laughed. “Talk to the church ladies. They’ve wanted the saloon closed for quite some time, but I don’t think they’d start a fire. Someone might’ve been killed, but check them out. Ask Rachel Reynolds.”
“Pastor Reynolds wife?” Ben furrowed his brows.
Judge Magarey nodded. They meet at her house. She’d know.”
“Yeah,” Ben mumbled as he strode away from the saloon headed for the pastor’s house. Of all the things he’d seen in his days as a lawman, a church lady burning down a saloon would be a new one.
Rachel watched the fire from her front window. She hoped the town’s idea of building the church and parsonage within sight of the saloon would make a few of the men think twice before entering. It didn’t seem to make much difference. The saloon did a roaring business every day including Sunday. She said a silent prayer that Underwood would never rebuild the saloon but she feared he’d build one bigger and employee more troubled young women. Shaking her head, she turned to start supper but stopped when she heard the knock at the front door. Surprised to see the sheriff, she smiled and invited him inside.
“Come in; you must be cold. The snow picked up. Would you like some coffee? I have apple pie,” Rachel said holding the door open wide.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Coffee would be good.”
“Please sit down. Did you need to see Samuel? I’m not sure where he is. I know he went to help put out the fire. He might be in the church now.”
Ben swallowed, “Actually, I’m here to see you.”
Rachel returned with coffee and pie for the sheriff. She sat in a chair across from him and folded her hands in her lap. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the saloon fire. I heard a group of ladies from the church wanted the saloon to close,” he sipped his coffee waiting for her response.
“Of course, we do. Any church in any town would want the saloon closed and the unfortunate women working there to be free to live a life umm let’s say have a choice how to live their lives.”
“I see. Do any of them condone violence?”
“Sheriff Clay, we are God fearing women. We pray for the men and women associated with the saloon. We collect clothes for the less privileged and cook meals for the ill and new mothers. We do what we can to help Gentle Falls. We would never set fire to any place even the saloon. It’s destructive.”
“I understand, but something happened at the saloon this afternoon.”
“Sheriff, most of the ladies from the church were at the train station this morning to see Celia on her way to Wyoming. After, most went to Henrietta Biggs’ house for coffee and to work on a quilting project. The women with small children went home. I don’t see a woman with a child setting fire to anything, do you.” Rachel gritted her teeth and stared at him.
Ben thought this must be the closest to anger a preacher’s wife could get and decided to finish his pie and leave.
“No, ma’am, but I had to ask. Please accept my apology if I upset you. It wasn’t my intention.”
Rachel took a deep breath before continuing. “We live close enough that some nights we hear the fighting and Samuel has told me men get kicked out. Perhaps those angry men have a reason to want revenge. I suggest you ask them.” Rachel smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Ben knew it was time to leave. He never thought he’d investigate a preacher’s wife and prayed he never would again.
“Thanks for the pie, Mrs. Reynolds. I’ll head out now,” he said slapping his hat on his head and leaving quickly.
He stood outside the Reynold’s home and watched the men cleaning up the fire scene. A third of the saloon didn’t burn, and they were trying to pull it over onto the rubble before it crumbled and caused more damage. He smiled seeing that Henry’s building was intact.
Why did he come here first? Would Rachel and Samuel talk to him again? He practically accused her of knowing who caused the fire. They would forgive him. He was doing his job, and they were in the business of forgiving. Right? He hoped so and decided his best course of action is to find out from Underwood if anyone threatened him lately. He doubted the man would admit to any threat thinking he could handle the problem himself. What a mess. A few hours ago, he sat across from a beautiful woman asking to court her. He expected life in a small town would be quiet and what did he do? He questioned a preacher’s wife. Ben ran his hand down his face and crossed the street toward what remained of the saloon.
Ben walked up and questioned Underwood. As expected, the man said there wasn’t anyone who would seek revenge against him personally. He blamed the town and Mr. Willoughby.
“What about the ladies. Will you put them up at the hotel?” Ben asked.
Underwood snorted. “You know how much that’d cost? Jewel’s staying at my house. I told Lucy and Rose to find somewhere to live until I rebuild. In the meantime, I’m putting up a few tents on the other side of the tracks. Herb Melvin’s property sits adjacent to the railroad, and he agreed to rent a section to me. I ordered tents, canvas and wood from Masters. It should all arrive within two weeks, and by then I’ll have my liquor supply. Men won’t mind walking or riding across the tracks for the drinks. Whoever did this didn’t close me down.” He huffed and walked down the street toward his home.
Ben walked the perimeter of the burnt-out saloon knowing he’d never find any tracks in the snow since just about every man in town helped put out the fire. He could smell burned wood and alcohol. Nothing appeared suspicious, and he’d expect the place to burn fast once the bottles of whiskey broke, but he asked the men doing the cleanup to let him know if they see anything suspicious. Ben would not be surprised to learn the fire started from Underwood’s cooking.
His mind wandered back to Molly, and he smiled. He should see if she was all right. He turned and headed for the seamstress shop.
Chapter 3
Molly saw the fire from her window. It appeared under control, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Lucy returned to the kitchen after her bath and dressed in one of Molly’s day dresses.
“Lucy,” Rose exclaimed. “You look like a different woman.”
“I feel like one,” Lucy smiled.
“Let’s sit in the parlor,” Molly invited walking away from the window. “I think they will have the fire out soon. Please, sit.” Molly gestured to the soft floral print settee.
“All right,” Lucy agreed. “Tell us about your idea.”
“You both know I used to work at Underwood’s doing the same job Rose does. I quit when he wanted me to be an upstairs girl. Nothing against you, Lucy, but my Mama died young because of her working for men like Underwood.”
Lucy nodded, “I understand. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be there either. When my husband died, he left me nearly penniless. I had no one else in this world. I tried to find work in a few towns until I ran out of what little I saved from the sale of the few cows we had. Most of the money w
ent to the doctor and the men who buried him. I was near starved and frozen when I stumbled into Underwood’s last month. All I wanted to do was wait tables.” Tears stained her cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly. “I thought the day my husband died was the worst day of my life until I met Underwood. He fed me and told me I could have a place to sleep in exchange for serving drinks. After I fell asleep, he stole all my things. Miss Jewel gave me a dress and told me what I had to do. I wanted to run but wearing the dress she gave me would have gotten me arrested. Maybe that was what I should have done.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle.
Molly replied, “I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t know. I faced a similar problem when my Mama died. Fortunately, Underwood hired me to sing and dance. I think most of the women who work for Underwood and his type have no other options.”
“It certainly isn’t what I’d want if I could start my life again. My husband would be ashamed of me. Perhaps I should have walked out into the woods and let starvation and cold take me.” Lucy sighed and sat back on the settee.
“That isn’t an answer,” Rose stated gently. “Lucy, my Pa told me always to have faith. He didn’t seem to have much after my Mama died, but I try.”
Lucy dropped her head and wrung her hands. “I try. I pray every night. Maybe God finally heard me.”
Molly continued, “I’m sure He did. He heard me and answered my prayers. I planned on leaving town. There’s a woman in Chicago who runs the Brutherington Matrimonial Agency. Both Nell Callahan and Sarah Bowen were mail-order brides sent by the agency. Mrs. Brutherington helped Celia Paddon find a husband in Wyoming. Celia left on the morning train. I wrote Mrs. Brutherington and asked her to help me find a way out of this town. I love it here, but no one would want me. She said she would help and sent the paperwork. This morning I asked Sheriff Clay for a reference. Instead of writing one, he asked me to stay in town and if he could court me. I said yes.” She blushed, and Rose clapped her hands.
“How wonderful,” Rose gushed. “I’m happy for you, but how does that help us?”
“I’d like to write Mrs. Brutherington and ask if she could help you, too Rose. You could start a new life with a good man. She checks everyone out. He may not be rich, but he wouldn’t be Underwood,” Molly explained.
“Do you think she would? I want to get away from Underwood and Miss Jewel. She keeps telling me that I’m going to have an exciting birthday,” Rose blushed and lowered her eyes. She quickly wiped the tears that fell.
Molly asked quietly, “Rose, how old are you?”
“Will you keep my secret?”
Lucy and Molly nodded.
“I look younger than I am. I’m eighteen, and I’ll be nineteen next month. When I took the job, I told Underwood I was seventeen hoping it might keep the men away for a while. Underwood said it didn’t matter to him, but the sheriff would close him down if he knew I worked upstairs and was seventeen. The closer my birthday comes, the more afraid I am,” Rose admitted.
“Let’s write a letter this evening and mail it tomorrow. You’re living here now and not going back. You can do this,” Molly suggested.
“That’s a fine idea,” Lucy chimed in, “But what about me? I can’t be anyone’s blushing bride.”
“No,” Molly thought. “You’re right, but you could accompany Rose as her best friend or roommate. You’d be far away from here in a new town helping her. Out west men outnumber women ten to one in some places. You could easily find a husband or at least a new job. You’re a widow, Lucy. You can start over.”
“I am a widow, but I could never lie to a potential husband. I’ll accompany Rose. If the town is big enough, I can find a job. I don’t need another husband. I am more than happy just to live a respectable life.” Lucy beamed. Her bright smile made her eyes sparkle, and Molly prayed she could help both Rose and Lucy.
Molly smiled. “It’s settled then. I’ll write and explain about Rose and her friend Lucy.”
Loud pounding broke into their conversation. Molly popped off her chair. “Someone is at the front door. I have the closed sign in the window, but some women have clothing emergencies,” she laughed and hurried downstairs.
Ben pressed his hands against the door glass trying to block the sun and peer inside. He was sure Molly was there. He knocked again harder this time and shook his hand to try and relieve the pain in his cold knuckles.
Molly smiled when she saw Ben at the door. She pulled it opened and said, “Come in quick. It’s cold.”
He stamped his feet to knock off some of the snow before he stepped inside. “I wanted to check on you. It’s still snowing. Do you have enough firewood? I can chop some for you.”
“I have plenty, thank you. Giles makes sure there is enough. He worries about Sarah getting cold, and I benefit from his concerns. Would you like to come upstairs for coffee? I have some cobbler, too.”
“Well, I don’t want to sully your reputation, Molly.”
Molly placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “That’s kind of you, Ben, but people already believe I’m sullied or at least some do. Lucy and Rose are upstairs. We won’t be alone.”
“I’m not sure how two of Underwood’s girls could pass as responsible chaperones, but coffee sounds good. I’m not concerned about what the small minds in town think.” He took off his hat and followed her upstairs.
Lucy paled at the sight of the sheriff entering Molly’s rooms. Rose sunk lower in her chair.
“Don’t fret, Ladies,” Ben said leaning against the doorway. “I’m here for coffee and not in any official capacity. I do have a question for both of you, though.”
“What can we do for you, Sheriff Clay?” Lucy asked still a bit pale.
“Do either of you know of anyone who might want to burn down the saloon?” He watched their faces for any indication of guilt or evidence either witnessed the crime. He only saw worry and confusion on their faces.
Rose shook her head rapidly from side to side, and Lucy suggested, “Ask Underwood. In the past month, he’s burned that stew of his three times. Once, the kitchen filled with smoke when he forgot the biscuits he tried to bake.”
“Thanks, Ladies. I’ll do that,” he answered and sipped his coffee. It warmed him nearly as much as Molly’s smile when she handed him a plate of cobbler.
“Please sit down, Ben. You must have had a busy afternoon. Lucy and Rose are staying here with me. I want to help Rose find a husband through Mrs. Brutherington’s agency the way she tried to help me. She can’t stay at Underwood’s.”
“I agree. I’d like to see him shut it down, but he’s ordered tents and boards for flooring until he can rebuild in spring. He rented a piece of land on the other side of the train tracks for now.”
“That’s it,” Lucy jumped to her feet. “I’m happy I’m not going back. If that man thinks I will live in a tent all winter, he’s crazy. Thanks, Molly for putting us up and trying to help.”
Ben added, “If you’re serious about moving on and starting new lives, I’ll make sure Underwood leaves you alone. Just keep your doors locked, Molly.”
“I will and don’t worry, Ben. I have a gun and rifle and know how to use them. You weren’t here when Henrietta and I were kidnapped. I’m resourceful,” she smiled up at him again, and his heart nearly stopped. He needed to leave now before he kissed her in front of their chaperones.
Lucy stood, “My husband taught me to shoot, too. Don’t worry; we’ll be all right, Sheriff.”
“I think you will, good night, Ladies,” Ben said and headed for the stairs.
“I’ll walk you down,” Molly said. “I need to lock the doors.”
Ben watched while Molly checked the lock on the back door. He followed her to the front of the shop but held her arm before she could open the front door. She looked up at him, and he lowered his head for a quick kiss. He planned on a quick kiss. He pulled back but decided he needed to kiss her a second time. Ben drew Molly close and kissed her soundly. He stepped back and
smiled. “Good night, Miss Sullivan. Would you allow me to escort you to lunch again tomorrow?”
“I’d like that, Sheriff Clay.” She took in a deep breath after she closed the door and watched him head in the direction of his office. Molly turned and headed toward the back of the shop. She turned again and hurried back to lock the door. Wasn’t that why she followed him down to the front door? Where was her mind? She lost a bit of it in Ben’s kiss along with more of her heart. Shaking off the feeling, she went back upstairs to help Rose write her letter to Mrs. Brutherington.
“What do I say?” Rose asked looking at the blank piece of paper in front of her.
“Explain why you’d like to become a mail-order bride. It’s obvious you can read and write, but tell her if you can cook, whether you attend church, are you familiar with farm or ranch work, gardening, anything that you can do,” Molly advised.
Rose looked at Molly with a frown. “I’m an orphan. Mama has a sister somewhere back East, but I don’t know where. Papa lost the farm to an unscrupulous neighbor after he became ill. I left town as soon as we buried him. I’m God fearing, but we didn’t attend church for quite a while when Papa was ill. Pastor Reynolds came to the saloon on Saturday afternoon to hold a service for us. I can’t say that. I can cook, sew, and do farm chores.”
Molly smiled, “That’s enough. Write that you can cook, clean, know how to work on a farm, attend church services, and are a God-fearing woman. I’ll send a letter along with it telling her I know you.”
Rose began to write, and Molly added, “You can tell her you have beautiful green eyes, but you might want to save that for your future husband when you write to him.”
Rose blushed and continued writing.
Chapter 4
Sunlight and the smell of coffee woke Molly. “Oh, my, I slept too long. I need to open the shop soon,” she murmured as she pushed herself out of bed. She peeked out the curtains to see if the snow had stopped falling. It had, but several inches fell to make the town look like a winter paradise. She could tell the saloon was gone and a light dusting of snow clung to the burnt wood giving it a clean appearance. Molly knew the fire was out completely which gave her a sense of safety. When she dressed and walked into the kitchen, she saw Lucy standing at the stove.
Molly's Heart Page 2
