The Lawman

by G. Michael Hopf

  She waved back.

  The two stared at each other until Phyllis came into the hallway holding a serving dish.

  “Sheriff Travis, you best hurry. You only have five minutes,” Phyllis said and disappeared into the dining room.

  Isaac looked up, but this time Lucy was gone. He went to his room and got ready.

  ***

  Dinner was filled with laughter and great conversation. It appeared to Isaac that Lucy was her old self in many ways. He’d say something and she’d follow up with something pithy and sarcastic. Even Mortimer was taking notice of her changed behavior.

  “You’re feeling better, I see,” Mortimer said.

  “I am,” she said, leaning over and touching his hand.

  Catching sight of that made Isaac recoil. He’d never seen her act affectionately towards Mortimer until that moment.

  Mortimer followed by intertwining his fingers with hers.

  This made Isaac feel even more repulsed. Why was she doing this in front of him? he thought.

  “I can’t express how good it feels to see you so chipper and, dare I say, happy,” Mortimer said.

  Leaning back in her chair, Lucy said, “I woke this morning and everything felt right. I had an epiphany of sorts, I suppose.”

  “You did?” Mortimer asked.

  Looking deeply into his eyes, she said, “I love you, and I so want to tell you how sorry I am that I’ve been ill for these long months. It wasn’t fair to you, my dear husband.”

  A nauseous feeling set in for Isaac. Was she trying to upset him? Confused by her actions, he stood up abruptly and said, “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Is everything alright? You look piqued,” Mortimer said.

  “Yes, are you well, Sheriff?” Lucy asked.

  Isaac shot her a look and said, “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather suddenly.”

  “Hmm, shall I call a doctor?” Mortimer asked, concerned.

  “I think I just need to get a good night’s rest. I’ve been going really hard since I arrived,” Isaac lied.

  “Shall I have Phyllis draw you a hot bath?” Lucy asked, a crooked smile on her face.

  “Mrs. Corrigan, that won’t be necessary, but thank you nonetheless,” Isaac said sharply.

  Sensing something was off, Mortimer rose and said, “Come, let us walk. Maybe some fresh air will do you good.”

  Looking at him then her, Isaac said, “Yes, let’s go for a walk.”

  Lucy hopped to her feet and said, “Husband, let the poor sheriff go rest. If he’s getting ill, you don’t want him walking in the chill of night.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Mortimer said.

  “It’s fine, Mortimer. I’ll go by myself,” Isaac said. He went to the foyer, put on his coat, and headed out the front door.

  Outside, the crisp night air was like a smack in the face. He walked down the front steps and stood looking towards the lights of town below. He tried to find an explanation for Lucy’s behavior and could only surmise she meant what she said in the letter and that she really wanted him to go so badly that she’d make it uncomfortable for him to be around her.

  But didn’t she know her actions would bring him pain? Seeing her show another man affection was like stabbing him in the heart with a knife and twisting the blade. It was one thing to imagine, another to witness it occur. Then another theory came to mind. Was she merely deflecting? Was she showing Mortimer much-needed attention as a way to allow Isaac to implement his plan? But after more thought, that didn’t make sense, as she wasn’t aware of his plan.

  Distraught, he sat on the bottom step and looked to the twinkling stars above. If she did desire him to go, then what was the point of staying? Should he find a horse and make for the coast? Filled with confusion, he allowed his thoughts to drift.

  The minutes turned to hours before he suddenly came to a conclusion. If he was going to leave Bane without her, he’d come to that decision based upon the reality that she truly didn’t want to be with him, not an emotional reaction to the events of the evening.

  His plagued thoughts were torn to the present when he heard footfalls in the darkness beyond. “Who goes there?”

  “Sheriff, is that you?” Connor asked, suddenly and surprisingly emerging from the black of night.

  “What are you doing here?” Isaac asked, shocked to see him of all people at the house.

  “I was having a bit to drink down at the saloon, and I had an idea. I like to think it’s a brilliant idea since it came from my head, and I couldn’t wait to tell ya, so I headed up to see ya.”

  “You do know I’m staying here as a guest; this isn’t my house. You can’t come calling at any hour,” Isaac said, getting up and walking over towards Connor to prevent him from getting any closer to the house.

  “It’s cold. Can we go inside?” Connor asked.

  “I’m afraid not. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Isaac asked.

  Connor produced a bottle and put it to his mouth. He guzzled a fair amount then offered some to Isaac. “Care for a nip?”

  “I’m fine. Just tell me what you’re doing here,” Isaac said, concerned about having someone as loud as Connor outside Mortimer’s house.

  “I was standing in the saloon and the thought came as to what we could do with that silver when we find it,” Connor said, his speech slurred.

  “Please keep your voice down. You do know that silver is his,” Isaac said, pointing to the house behind him.

  Connor lifted the bottle and said, “Well, how do you do, Mr. Rich Man in the Big House.”

  “Damn it, Connor, keep your voice down,” Isaac said, his tone chastising.

  Leaning his weight on Isaac, Connor said, “So do you want to know my idea?”

  “No, I don’t. What I want you to do is go get some sleep. You were supposed to be getting your team ready to ride out late tomorrow, not getting drunk.”

  “My team is fine, a fine bunch of young men. I really want to thank you for giving me this opportunity,” Connor said, his speech becoming more slurred.

  Isaac swung his arm over Connor’s shoulder and began to lead him down the drive.

  “I don’t think you want to discuss my idea,” Connor said just as he slipped, bringing both men to the ground hard.

  Aggravated with Connor, Isaac got to his feet and barked, “Damn it, Connor. I wouldn’t have brought you on if I knew you were a drunk.”

  “I’m not a drunk, I just like to drink,” Connor said. He was laid out on his back.

  Isaac got him to his feet and said, “Go get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Pushing Isaac away, Connor said, “Fine, but you’re missing out on a good idea. Maybe I’ll get my daft brother Duncan on board with it. I can’t imagine he wants to run a livery the rest of his life.”

  “Goodnight, Connor,” Isaac said. He watched Connor disappear into the darkness.

  Frustrated by Connor’s unwelcome appearance at the house, Isaac went back inside and prayed no one had heard. The house was now dark save for a couple of lanterns turned down to just a glow. He peeked his head inside the parlor, but it was empty. He made his way to his room. All he wanted to do was sleep so that he could wake up to a better day than this one had been.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NOVEMBER 1, 1869

  TRIPLE B HOTEL, BANE, NEVADA

  “It’s not my fault. I had no idea he’d press me to have another team of men inspect that parcel,” Edwin complained, his head in his hands.

  Marcus sat across from him, his hands placed palm down on his lap. “It doesn’t matter. By the end of the day we will be partners with those businessmen, not Wilkes or Corrigan,” Marcus said, trying to reassure Edwin.

  “Why are we doing this? Why do you want to keep the property now and not sell it to Mr. Corrigan?” Edwin asked, confused. “I don’t want to own part of a mining company.”

  The two had partnered up some weeks ago after Edwin had approached a delusional Marcu
s in the saloon. Though Edwin seemed content, he was far from it. He perceived Mortimer as unworthy and thought if a man like him could be rich, so could he. Marcus expressed his dissatisfaction with Wilkes, and they set forth to make an unusual partnership. Marcus divulged the land and mining-company deal Quincy was working on. This set in motion the plan to acquire the land out from underneath Quincy then sell it at a premium to Mortimer without either knowing who had purchased it. They’d finance the land deal with the silver they had stolen from Quincy. Neither expressed a desire to be a part of this proposed silver-mining operation—that was until yesterday when Marcus told Edwin the plan had changed and he wished to open the operation with the businessmen.

  “I want to do it, that’s all. If you want, I’ll buy you out of your share when I make my first sale of silver,” Marcus said.

  “I don’t want to own a silver mine. I want the money so I can leave this Godforsaken place,” Edwin exclaimed.

  “You can leave. I’ll buy you out for a cheaper price; then you can be on your merry way,” Marcus said.

  “No, I’m not getting ripped off here. I’ve risked everything. I just don’t like when well-thought-out plans are changed at the last minute,” Edwin barked.

  “I know you’re upset, but you need to move past this,” Marcus said calmly.

  “I didn’t want the general public to know I’m the owner, but now it will happen. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan!” Edwin cried out.

  “Plans change. I’ve given you your options; take it or leave it,” Marcus said soberly.

  Frustrated, Edwin hopped to his feet and paced the small hotel room. “This was supposed to be easy.”

  “Easy for you. Securing the silver took hard work,” Marcus said.

  “Don’t give me talk about hard work. You didn’t steal it back; it was men we hired,” Edwin said.

  “I set it all up, not you,” Marcus said.

  “And I almost set up Mortimer to buy it from us until you decided you wanted to go into business with men we don’t know, running a company we have no idea how to run,” Edwin groveled.

  “We can be rich, filthy rich. There’s silver in that mountain, and we’ll be the ones who own it,” Marcus said, his thoughts of wealth exciting him.

  “First of all, it won’t just be yours or ours, we’re going into business with those men, and that makes the shares split six ways. And second, you don’t care about the potential windfall. What you want to do is flaunt this in front of Wilkes, but you don’t know what he’ll do; he’s powerful,” Edwin said.

  “He’s only powerful because I’ve shielded him with a small army of men that I hired, I built—me, not him. Those men are loyal to me,” Marcus said.

  “Those men are loyal to money, don’t fool yourself,” Edwin complained.

  “Maybe so, but we have the money to hire them and make them ours. Before I step into that meeting later today, I’ll have my own army of men to protect us,” Marcus said.

  Edwin stopped and thought. “Where’s the silver?”

  “Somewhere safe,” Marcus replied.

  “Tell me, I deserve to know,” Edwin insisted.

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” Marcus said.

  “It’s here, isn’t it? In town somewhere,” Edwin said.

  “Yes.”

  “Where?” Edwin asked.

  “Like I said, somewhere safe,” Marcus replied.

  Edwin thought for a moment then fired back, “It’s at the stables. You’ve hidden it underneath Wilkes’ nose at the stables that Scotsman is leasing from Wilkes.”

  Marcus gritted his teeth.

  “For someone who normally has a poker face, you just gave me a tell. It’s at the livery somewhere,” Edwin proclaimed.

  “Don’t you dare say a damn word,” Marcus cursed, which was unlike him.

  “Unfortunately, Marcus, I’m too involved to tell anyone. I’m in this with you all the way. But damn it, we had a plan, and you had to spoil it because you just had to rub it in his face. The plan was coming together, use some of the money, buy the parcel of land from the owner in California, split the remaining silver, then sell the parcel to Mortimer for a premium and split that; we’d both be rich and go our own ways. Now I’m tied to this, to you, to this damn area.”

  “How many times do I have to say that plans change? And you have an out; take it or shut up.”

  “How do I know you won’t double-cross me?”

  “The same way I don’t know if you will,” Marcus answered and stood. “This conversation is boring. Can you please leave?”

  Edwin removed his pocket watch and checked the time. “Is the meeting still set for ten o’clock this morning, or has that changed too?” Edwin scoffed.

  “It’s still ten.”

  “I’ll be there, and please don’t make any other changes to the plan,” Edwin said before leaving.

  Marcus stared at the door. He didn’t trust Edwin, and now that Edwin knew exactly where the silver was hidden, Marcus needed to ensure that it didn’t disappear. He grabbed his hat and headed out.

  BANE, NEVADA

  Hoping to run into Lucy on his way out of the house, Isaac deliberately made more noise than normal. However, all he accomplished was stirring Phyllis, who emerged from the kitchen with twenty questions.

  After escaping Phyllis’ endless doting and chatter, he made for the office, his mind plagued by how to proceed. Normally, when he encountered uncertainty, Isaac just went with the strategy in place until something more definitive made itself known; so he found no reason yet to change.

  His ride to the office was a chilly one. The air was dry and cool, far different than what he was used to in New York. As he trotted up to the office, he spotted Edwin leaving the Triple B Hotel and instantly recalled seeing him engaged in a heated conversation with Marcus. If he couldn’t keep pushing his plan, he’d at least keep pretending to be sheriff and do what Mortimer had hired Travis for.

  “Edwin, hold up!” Isaac hollered.

  Edwin stopped and gave Isaac a frightened stare.

  “Come over here. I want to chat with you,” Isaac said before dismounting.

  “I’m busy, sorry,” Edwin said as he kept his pace brisk.

  “Edwin, come here…now!” Isaac demanded. He had a sense that something was off about Edwin.

  Keeping his distance, Edwin replied, “Can this wait, Sheriff?”

  “No, it can’t. Meet me in the office, now,” Isaac said, tying his horse to the post.

  Edwin sighed then sauntered over. “Sheriff, I’m very busy. I’m doing something urgent for Mr. Corrigan.”

  “Edwin, I can assure you that anything I do, including pulling you aside, will get Mr. Corrigan’s blessing. Now please step inside the office.”

  Sheepishly, Edwin agreed and headed inside.

  Wallace jumped up from behind a desk and said, “Morning, Sheriff and Edwin.”

  “Good morning, Deputy, can you get me and Edwin a hot cup of coffee?” Isaac asked.

  “Sure thing, there’s some on the stove here,” Wallace said, racing off to get it.

  “Take a seat,” Isaac said, motioning to a small armless wooden chair in front of his oak desk.

  Sitting down, Edwin twirled his hat and kept his gaze towards the floor.

  Isaac removed his hat and coat and took a seat at his desk. “Edwin, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, Sheriff.”

  Wallace brought over two steaming cups of coffee and set them on the desk. “Anything else, Sheriff?”

  “Give us privacy,” Isaac said.

  Edwin’s face became ashen when Isaac told Wallace to leave.

  Picking up on Edwin’s peculiar behavior, Isaac pressed the question he wanted a clear answer on. “I saw you talking with Wilkes’ man Marcus. The conversation looked heated. Why were you talking to him?”

  Edwin gulped and said, “We, ah, we were discussing plans about…” Edwin paused, unable to think of a good
lie that would make sense. “We, um, I needed to run something by him concerning a parcel of land Mortimer wishes to purchase.”

  “Is that true?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes, it’s the truth. He’s been providing me information about a land deal that Wilkes is working on.”

  “Does Mortimer know about this?”

  “He does; however, he doesn’t know whom I’ve been talking to,” Edwin confessed.

  “You realize that it looks very suspicious from my vantage point. You know why I was brought in here, and I need to follow up on anything that could help flush out who might have stolen the silver and burned down the barn,” Isaac said.

  “I understand, but could you do me a favor and not tell Mr. Corrigan?” Edwin asked.

  “Why would I do that?” Isaac asked.

  “Marcus is only working with me on the condition that it’s anonymous,” Edwin answered. “If he knows I’ve told you and Mr. Corrigan, it could jeopardize him and our plan.”

  “Our plan?”

  “I’m referring to what Mr. Corrigan is trying to do,” Edwin replied.

  “And that is?” Isaac asked.

  “To buy the land from underneath Wilkes,” Edwin said honestly.

  Isaac leaned back in his chair and stared hard at Edwin. He spotted a bead of sweat on his brow and asked, “You seem nervous?”

  “Because I’m being interrogated.”

  “I’m not interrogating you, I’m merely asking some questions,” Isaac said.

  Growing agitated, Edwin stood, his fingers clinging to his hat. “If you’re done, I’d like to get back to what I was doing.”

  “Who were you visiting at the Triple B?” Isaac asked.

  “So now my personal business is also to be known?” Edwin asked defensively.

  “Were you visiting a prostitute?” Isaac asked.

  Edwin’s face flushed. “Sir, I’m through with this undignified line of questions.” He turned and made for the door.

  “Edwin, I didn’t say you could leave,” Isaac pressed.