Trailblazer

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Trailblazer Page 22

by Anna Schmidt


  Later, someone pulled the drapes shut, casting the large room in the dimness of late afternoon. Grace tried to bring herself awake, but every movement sent a shot of pain through her body, and it seemed to take all her strength just to turn onto her side. She dreamed of her parents and the farm, and then it wasn’t the farm but that cabin, and Jasper Perkins was there, leering at her, threatening to do unspeakable things to her, touching her—

  With a cry, she sat up and looked around, trying to get her bearings. A man entered the room, but it wasn’t anyone she knew. “Who are you?” she croaked.

  Chapter 14

  He removed his hat and approached the bed. “I am Sheriff Cody Daniels, Miss Rogers. I was wondering if you felt up to answering a few questions?” He turned on the bedside lamp. “Mr. Campbell is just outside there if you’d prefer he be present.”

  “Yes, please.”

  When Aidan entered the room, Grace asked, “Is Nick back yet?”

  “Not yet. Grace, if you’re not feeling up to this…”

  She let out a breath, which sent her into a coughing spasm and had both men reaching for the water at her bedside. She took a sip, cleared her throat, and pushed herself higher against the headboard, pulling the covers up to her chest. She focused her attention on the sheriff. “Let’s get this over with,” she said. “As you will see, it is not an incident I relish reliving.”

  The sheriff nodded and pulled a small pad of paper and pencil from his pocket. “Do you mind if I sit, Miss Rogers—or rather, I understand it is Mrs. Hopkins?”

  “Please sit, and call me Grace.”

  The sheriff frowned. “I think we may need to maintain a bit more formality, Mrs. Hopkins.” He opened the notepad to a fresh sheet and wrote something at the top of the page. “All right, how did you come to be in that cabin with Mr. Perkins?”

  Over the next hour as Sheriff Daniels questioned her, she told her story in as much detail as she could manage, going back as far as that first encounter at the Lombard party. Behind the sheriff, Aidan paced. From time to time, he would glance at her with alarm, especially when she told the part about fighting Perkins and burning him with the kindling. The sheriff remained stoic and expressionless throughout the interview. He asked questions and took notes, and he rarely looked directly at her.

  “I think that’s everything,” she said after recalling Nick’s arrival and rescue and how he went back for the banker.

  Sheriff Daniels turned the page on his notepad. “Not quite. Let’s talk about your upbringing—your past before coming to work at the hotel.”

  She bristled, suspecting he was looking for some scandal or behavior that might have led Perkins to believe she was encouraging him. “My parents are farmers. I am the eldest of six children. Just after I completed my schooling last spring, I saw the advertisement Mr. Harvey placed in our local paper, and I applied to become a Harvey Girl. I was accepted, went through a month of training in Kansas City, then boarded the train that brought me here. During the time I have been here, I have worked first at the counter and later in the dining room. As Mr. Campbell will attest, we have little opportunity for…frivolity.”

  Aidan smiled.

  “And yet you somehow found time to meet and marry Nick Hopkins.” Sheriff Daniels looked directly at her for the first time since beginning the interview. “Had you and Mr. Perkins had any…interaction prior to your decision to step out with Mr. Hopkins?”

  “That’s enough,” Nick growled. None of them had been aware of him standing just outside the door. He opened it fully and crossed the room to stand in front of the sheriff. “You’ve asked your questions, Cody. Now leave my wife to get some rest.”

  The sheriff stood. He turned to Grace. “Just one more question, ma’am.” He consulted his notes. “You say that Mr. Perkins brought the weapon to the cabin?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then how is it he’s the one who ended up shot?”

  “I have no idea, Sheriff Daniels.” She met the lawman’s gaze directly as Nick took a step closer. “What I know is that when the fire raged out of control, we were both there, and neither of us had the gun. I could hear Mr. Perkins coughing as he tried to escape the fire—with, I might add, apparently no thought of me. For my part, I was struggling to come to terms with the fact that the fire that had saved me might well kill me in the end.”

  No one spoke for a moment, and then the sheriff tucked his pad and pencil back into his pocket and put on his hat. “Be that as it may, Mrs. Hopkins, the fact remains. There were only two people in that cabin with that gun, and now one of them is dead.”

  * * *

  Nick felt Aidan grip his arm, restraining him from punching the lawman as he stepped past them and left the room.

  “That man thinks I killed Jasper Perkins in cold blood,” Grace said.

  “He’s just doing his job,” Aidan said in a tone intended to defuse Nick’s rage and soothe Grace’s fears.

  “I’ll soon set him straight,” Nick muttered as he headed for the door.

  “Nick, no,” Grace called and then began coughing so hard, Nick hurried back to the bedside, his arm around her as he held out his hand for the water glass Aidan was refilling.

  Nick thought back through every detail of the seconds he’d spent inside the cabin—both rescuing Grace and then returning to drag Perkins out. He tried to remember if there had been a gun anywhere near either of them. Maybe Perkins had shot himself, knowing his behavior would be exposed. But that made no sense. Although no one had openly admitted it, there were rumors all over town that Grace was not the first girl he’d pursued. It made Nick wonder if there were other women—perhaps even still living in Juniper—who’d been victims of the banker’s vile obsessions. Of course, even with him dead, it would still be a Missouri woman’s word against a respected leader of the community. Mrs. Perkins would garner sympathy, having just buried her husband. Nick was pretty sure even if there were others in town who knew what Grace had faced, they would not come forward. Why should they?

  He sat with Grace while she ate a little of the soup Jake had brought her. When she pushed the bowl away and said she simply wasn’t hungry, Nick didn’t argue. “You don’t mind if I get something to eat while you rest?”

  “Of course.” She stroked his cheek. “You go. All I seem capable of right now is sleeping.”

  He helped her settle on the pillows, kissed her, and smoothed her hair away from her face. Her eyes fluttered closed. “I’ll be back,” he promised, but she was already asleep.

  He left the hotel and headed straight for the ruins of the cabin. Although it was after sunset, there was still enough light from the hotel and a full moon to make out details. In his mind, he reconstructed the space. The hearth of the fireplace still stood, so that gave him perspective on distance. There’d been a window there, beneath which he’d found Grace. He closed his eyes and mentally retraced his steps. He’d entered the cabin, protecting his mouth and nose with his bandana, searching for Grace. He’d seen a figure he now realized was Perkins standing by the fireplace. He’d found Grace, picked her up, and run, all while Perkins was on his feet.

  And that was when he’d heard the shots. Grace was already outside, gasping for breath, nearly unconscious. He was sure of it. She could not have shot Perkins. Others would remember as well. His heart swelled with hope as he ran back past the hotel and across the plaza until he reached the sheriff’s office. “She didn’t shoot Perkins,” he blurted as he threw open the door.

  Cody Daniels got to his feet. “Sit down, Nick.”

  Nick refused the request. Instead, he leaned his hands on the small wooden table that served as the sheriff’s desk and laid out his proof. “She could not have shot him. She was already outside the cabin when the shots went off. The heat of the fire…”

  “No doubt, and yet it seems convenient that a shot set off by the fire could f
ind its mark directly in Mr. Perkins’s chest.”

  Nick felt his forearms go weak, and he slumped back into the chair the sheriff had offered. “She did not shoot him,” he said.

  “Look, Nick, I believe you—and your wife. However, at the moment, we need proof. Mrs. Perkins is insisting on a full investigation. She claims your wife made advances toward her husband one evening when they had invited three of the Harvey Girls to their home. She gives quite a convincing account of how her husband went to the kitchen sometime after dinner to prepare coffee for the guests and your wife insisted on helping, leaving her to entertain the other two women.”

  “She lied. He was the one who tried to—”

  “Nevertheless, Mrs. Perkins reports that once you and your friends showed up, your wife returned from the kitchen in a state of some disarray—her hair mussed and clothing askew.”

  “That’s not true. I saw it all.”

  Cody raised an eyebrow. “How?”

  Nick gave him the details—how he, Jake, and Aidan had gone there to see the girls back to the hotel, how he had not seen Grace sitting with Mrs. Perkins and Emma and Lily and suspected something amiss, and how he had gone around to the back of the house and through the window observed Perkins pressing Grace against the sink, trying to kiss her.

  “And your friends also observed this?”

  “No, they stayed in front.”

  Cody sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You understand that because you are married to Grace, your testimony raises questions?”

  “But it’s what happened.”

  “And Mrs. Perkins claims her husband told a different version of the incident. Who do you think a jury will believe? A grieving widow or a man trying to save his wife from going to prison?”

  Jury? Prison?

  “You’re going to arrest Grace?”

  Cody Daniels sighed. “I can hold off for a while, but the circuit judge will be here at the end of the month. Unless we can find a way to get this business cleared up and get everyone—including Mrs. Perkins—to agree that her husband’s death was a terrible accident, I may have no choice.”

  It dawned on Nick that Cody was not their enemy. For what it was worth, he seemed to believe Grace’s version of things. “What evidence would you need to make that happen?”

  The sheriff gave him a wry smile. “The evidence we need has been lost in the fire. We got the gun, but all the bullets had been fired. We know one is lodged in Jasper Perkins’s chest, but—”

  “The shots went off as I was bringing Grace out from the cabin,” he insisted. “He was standing when I got Grace and on the ground when I went back in.”

  “Meaning?”

  “If he was standing, trying to find his way out, and the gun went off, wildly firing shots in the small space…”

  Cody looked up at the tin ceiling of the office. “I suppose it helps give credence to the idea that he was shot accidentally. But it still doesn’t prove he hadn’t already been shot once before you and others spotted the fire and showed up.” He looked over at Nick. “I don’t want to arrest your wife, Nick, but the facts point to the possibility that she did it.”

  “Look, Cody, I appreciate everything you’re trying to do for Grace. You’re in a tough spot, but I’d be mighty grateful if you could just see your way clear to leaving her be until she’s had a chance to regain her strength.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Not likely she’s gonna go around shooting up the town. Truth is, from rumors circulating about Perkins, she’d have a good case for self-defense even if she did pull the trigger.”

  “Which she didn’t,” Nick said, wanting to make sure the sheriff wasn’t talking himself into believing Grace had killed Perkins.

  Cody stood and extended his hand. “You have my word, Nick, that unless somebody goes over my head, your wife will be free at least until the circuit judge shows up. If this entire business hasn’t been sorted out by then, Judge Evans will hold a hearing and decide whether or not to bind your wife over for trial.”

  The two men shook hands. Nick realized Cody was almost as exhausted as he was. “I’d best get back,” Nick said. “Doc Waters is supposed to stop by to check on Grace.”

  Cody walked him to the door. “Hope everything turns out for you, Nick.”

  When he got back to the hotel, anxious to reassure Grace that Sheriff Daniels seemed to be on their side, Doc Waters was in with her, and Miss Kaufmann was standing guard outside the door.

  “Get something to eat, Nick,” she replied when he argued that he was, after all, Grace’s husband. “She’ll still be here after. And a word of advice, young man. Grace broke her contract, and I’m not sure how that will play with management back in Kansas City. I’m holding off doing anything until we know she’ll fully recover, but do not push me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Nick gave her a sheepish smile and crossed the lobby to the dining room.

  With Emma and Lily ill, Polly was his waitress, and that night, she seemed unusually distracted. “Sounds like Grace will be all right, Nick. We’re all praying for her,” she said after she’d taken his order and set his cup upright for the drink girl to fill with coffee.

  “Thanks. Doc’s with her now.”

  Polly hesitated. “So it’s true? You two are really married?”

  “Yeah. Things are pretty rocky for Grace right now—her health, of course, but she also really wanted to finish her contract.”

  “She’ll be all right. You both will,” Polly said. “Girls like Grace always land on their feet.” She went off to fill his order, and her remark nagged at him until the time she returned.

  “Grace has been through a terrible ordeal, Polly. Perkins… There was nothing she could do. As a man, I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.”

  “Surely he didn’t… I mean, she wasn’t…” She stumbled over words and finally gave up, but Nick knew what she was asking. Her hand shook as she set the plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans in front of him.

  “You’re right, Polly. She’ll get past this. We’ll find a way together.”

  Polly regained her composure and gave him her bright Harvey Girl smile. “Of course you will. She’s got you by her side, so how could she not? Enjoy your dinner, Nick. I think there’s one more piece of lemon meringue pie left. I’ll go set it aside for you.” And with that, she was gone.

  As he ate, Nick kept running over the conversation with Polly. Something was off about the way she’d kept the conversation going—the way she didn’t seem satisfied, as most people might be, to learn that Grace was recovering and in good hands. Most folks knew only that Grace had been caught in the fire and was suffering from the smoke. If they’d heard Perkins was there as well, they’d apparently assumed he’d been the one to discover the fire and had tried to save Grace. But Polly had specifically mentioned the banker’s name—and she had done so in the context of worrying he might have harmed Grace.

  He thought about the waitress, recalling she had worked at the hotel for some time now. And instead of taking a position in the dining room—the goal of most Harvey Girls—she had stayed at the counter. Perkins rarely ate at the counter. Nick might be grasping at straws, but something told him Polly Forrester might know something about Jasper Perkins that could help clear Grace’s good name.

  He gobbled down his food and waited for Polly to bring the slice of pie, but it was another girl who delivered his dessert and refilled his coffee. “Everybody just loves Grace,” she told him. “We all hope she’ll be back on her feet soon.”

  Nick thanked her, ate his pie, and lingered over his coffee. He wanted to get Polly to agree to meet him so they could talk in private, but the waitress never returned to the dining room. All thoughts of Polly evaporated when Doc Waters pulled out the chair opposite him, signaled the drink girl for coffee, and sat down.

  “How is she?” Ni
ck asked.

  “She’s improving. You’re gonna need to be patient, Nick. These things take time.”

  Once his coffee was served, Doc took his time adding cream and sugar. It seemed to Nick that there was something the older man wanted to say but was having some trouble spitting out. “What else?”

  “I assume there is every possibility that Grace could be with child?”

  Nick’s mind shot immediately to their wedding night six weeks earlier—the night he’d had every intention of preventing her from getting pregnant. The night he’d gotten so caught up in their shared passion that he’d failed to protect her. Since then, he’d made sure they were safe, and as the weeks passed with no sign, he’d been relieved.

  “There’s one,” he admitted.

  “That’s all it takes,” Doc muttered as he blew on his coffee before taking a swallow.

  “Wait a minute—how do you know? Did Grace say something?”

  “Given Grace’s account of what happened with Perkins, I felt it prudent to examine her quite thoroughly.” He waited a beat to make sure Nick understood the full extent of such an examination. “There were signs. I asked her a few questions about her appetite in recent weeks and how she’d been feeling in general, and her answers tended to confirm my suspicions.” He drank the rest of his coffee. “Congratulations, Nick. I’d say by late summer, you and Grace will be welcoming your first child.” He stood, laid some coins on the table, and picked up his black bag. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. Have a good evening, Nick.”

  “Does Grace know? I mean about the baby?”

  “I didn’t say anything, but I’ve never met a woman yet who couldn’t figure things out on her own.”

  * * *

  Miss K stayed after the doctor left, telling Grace that Nick was having his supper and would be in to say good night before heading back to the ranch. She fussed with the pillows and rearranged the items on the side table that Doc had pushed aside to make room for his bag.

  “Thank you, Miss Kaufmann,” Grace said softly. “You’ve been so kind. Everyone has.”

 

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