* * *
Sullivan bristled as Dolly pushed ahead of him. The sheriff had said to visit in a day or two, but the morning following Sheila being taken away, Dolly announced he had kept them away long enough. And now as they headed toward the jail door, she got there first and burst through, although he followed right on her heels. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, he spotted Sheila lying on the floor against the wall. Fury flared, swift and hot.
“Oh no!” Dolly swept the sheriff’s feet off his desk. “You expected Sheila to sleep on the floor? What kind of man are you?”
“There’s a bed in there,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Sullivan tempered his anger so he wouldn’t punch the sheriff and end up behind bars himself. But it hurt to see Sheila behind bars and huddled on the floor. He hurried over to her and wrapped his hands around two bars as he peered through.
“Are you all right? I bet you didn’t sleep all night. I know I didn’t.” He took a wilted flower out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Becca picked it for you. I thought it was getting to be too cold for flowers.”
Her eyes swam as she took the flower. “How is my girl?”
“She misses you, but she’s fine. Everyone has been keeping her busy.”
She pressed her lips together as tears trailed down her face. “What will become of her once I’m dead?”
If only he could reach in and hold her. He put his hands over hers and squeezed. “You aren’t going to die.”
“I might,” she said stoically. “And it must be faced. Becca needs seeing to.”
“She’ll be sent to an orphanage,” the sheriff announced. His satisfied tone of voice made its way under Sullivan’s skin.
“We’ll keep her. I’ll keep her and raise her. Don’t worry.” Sullivan had been so intent on Sheila he didn’t realize Dolly’s absence until she reentered the jailhouse with a mop and bucket.
“Sullivan, I purchased a whole bunch of stuff at the General Store.”
“I’ll get it Dolly.” He smiled at Sheila, but his smile didn’t feel real. He and his brothers had talked long into the night and had been unable to form a plan to get her out, and everyone he’d met on his way through town seemed out for blood.
He walked to the store and discovered Dolly had not lied when she’d said she bought a lot of supplies. He gathered what he could and returned to the jail carrying a new tick, a sheet and two blankets along with things to give Sheila’s cell a good cleaning.
“Now wait a doggone minute! You can’t go bringing your own things into the jail!” Sheriff Ganes’ face turned a bright crimson. “There is nothing wrong with the way I keep the cells!”
“If you enjoy vermin then yes, you are doing a great job,” Dolly said, her voice laced in sarcasm.
“Don’t make me pull my gun on you.” His eyes turned cold as he stood.
“Now, there’s no reason to have your gun out,” Sullivan said in a calm voice. “We’re just going to make sure Miss. Kelly is comfortable. How long until the judge comes to town?”
“Three weeks. I sent a telegram, and three weeks is the best he could do.” The sheriff unlocked the cell door.
Sullivan glanced at Sheila and her look of terror was like getting kicked in the gut. There had to be something he could do besides making her bed.
“What did Mrs. Wren have to say? The child was dead before she got to Miss. Kelly’s place. I know they’re grieving, but the truth needs to be told.” He ran his hand over his jaw.
Ganes walked over to the fresh coffee Dolly had made and poured himself a cup. “Seems to me the best truth is what was said right after the incident. Jenny’s pa insists she was alive and minutes later she was dead. It seems simple to me.” He ambled over to his desk and sat down in his chair again.
“Did you even question Miss. Kelly? She has her side in all of this.” Sullivan couldn’t keep his voice from growing louder, harsher.
But Ganes only shrugged. “Like I said, the judge will be here in three weeks. It’s going to be her word against his, and likely the grieving father will win. Nothing else to do about it.”
Sullivan closed his eyes for a moment, struggling once again to curb his urge to punch the sheriff. He helped Dolly put the new mattress in and take the old one out. Then he helped to make the bed, watching Sheila the whole time. He didn’t like her deflated look. She was a fighter, but she sure wasn’t acting like one. He picked her up and sat her on the cot.
He lifted her chin until their gazes met. “Don’t give up. I’ll get you out of here.”
She glanced away. “I know you want me back at the ranch, but you just might have to accept that this isn’t going your way.” Her breathing hitched. “Dolly please give Becca lots of kisses and hugs from me. Tell her—” Her voice broke. “Tell her Mama loves her.” A sob erupted and Sheila covered her mouth with her hands.
Dolly handed her a Bible and kissed her cheek. “Don’t you worry about Becca.”
“Thank you.”
Dolly took the mop, broom, and bucket and placed them in a corner of the office.
He caressed Sheila’s face. “Do you remember what I said about you can’t get rid of me easily?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. I have a few telegrams of my own to send, and then I’ll spend time with Becca. Hang in there.” He kissed her cheek before he walked out of the cell. She looked so lost it scared him.
Chapter Seven
Over the next couple of weeks, Sheila’s emotions changed quickly, and after a visit with Becca she felt particularly low. Becca begged to stay with her. It’d hurt too much to see her. Sheila never felt so hopeless. The judge was due to arrive in under a week. All she’d ever wanted was to be a good person and raise her daughter. She was still a good person, but few would agree. Donnell had been intent on getting her house built before she was released. She wasn’t being consulted, and she didn’t much care. What would it matter, if she was not alive to enjoy it?
All the Kavanaghs had been by to see her at some point. Gemma had her baby and thankfully Doctor Bright was there to attend her. She’d had a healthy girl, and Gemma and Teagan named her Lacey. It had been torture to sit in the cell when Shea rode in to get the doctor. It’d seemed like forever before she’d gotten the good news.
Ed Wren had slammed into the jail afterwards, sneering at her. He’d told her the Kavanaghs were lucky she was locked up and couldn’t harm their new baby. Even though it was a lie, it cut her to the core. She hadn’t stuck up for herself, hadn’t said anything, in fact. It wouldn’t have changed anything, and certainly not the man’s opinion of her.
She’d hated relying on folks, but that was all she could do. Shivering, she pulled one of her blankets tighter around her shoulders. The sheriff never put wood in the stove when he did his rounds and then went to the saloon at night. The only thing that saved her from freezing to death was John O’Rourke sneaking in each night to put enough wood on to heat the place. Ciara’s sister Orla spent many hours with her. She would hold up a blanket so Sheila could dress behind it each day when she was brought clean clothes.
But her biggest concern was what would happen to Becca? The sheriff and Ed Wren were insistent that she’d go to the state orphanage. They said the Kavanaghs had no legal right to keep her. Time was running out.
The door opened, and Reverend McKay walked into the jail, smiling at her. “It’s good to see you, Sheila. I thought I would be late, but the other party isn’t here yet.”
Confusion clouded her thoughts. “Other party?”
The door opened again, admitting Sullivan and Angus.
“There they are.” Reverend McKay beamed. “We should probably get this done before the sheriff or his deputy get back from lunch. Sullivan, stand next to Sheila as close as the bars allow you.”
What was going on? She looked between all three men. Her body shook.
“Dearly beloved…” Those were the only w
ords she heard over the buzzing in her ears. She glanced from Sullivan to Angus to the reverend, and still she did not understand what they were doing.
“Sheila, you need to sign this,” the reverend told her after a fashion.
She studied the piece of paper and was stunned. She signed it and handed it back to the reverend. Then she sat on her cot. No one had asked her if she wanted to be married. It must be her punishment for being so stubborn and argumentative. She had thought she knew what was right, and now she was being shown in all kinds of horrible ways that she had no control over her life. She watched in silence as the reverend and Angus left, and then she stared at Sullivan.
At least he looked uncomfortable. “Now Becca can stay with me. No one will take a girl away from her family.”
Sheila lay down on the cot and turned her back to him. It was all too much, and she’d never been so overwhelmed before. It was as though she was watching someone else’s life. She would never have allowed this to happen.
“Sheila? Everything will be fine.”
She nodded but didn’t turn around. It would all be over in a matter of days. Suddenly, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I want to see Becca before…” A lump of emotion tightened her throat and kept her from finishing the sentence.
“I’ll bring her tomorrow,” he blurted. “We can explain our marriage together.”
She stared at him, shaking her head. “I’d like someone to explain it all to me. I’m the one with death hanging over my head, and I haven’t been asked one thing. I wasn’t even asked if I wanted to marry you. I think you did it for Becca’s sake, but why couldn’t you have talked to me about it? You all are acting as though I’m already dead. My feelings or opinions don’t matter one bit.” Her heart hammered in her chest. Calming herself would not be easy, but she needed to be calm to accept God’s will.
The sheriff raced in. His face was flushed, and he was out of breath. “Is it true? You got married?” His dark eyes glittered, and his demeanor terrified her.
“Yes. Sheila is my wife.”
“But it has to be consummated!”
Sullivan smiled wide and opened his hand. He held the key to the cell. “Don’t worry we know how it all works. I’ll be back tomorrow, my love.”
Was she going crazy? What was going on? Lies slid too easily off Sullivan’s tongue. He wasn’t a man she could trust. Once again, she’d judged a man’s character wrong. She lay back down with her back to them.
The sheriff left in a huff. But she had no time to wonder where he was going as the door opened and closed again as soon as he left.
“I was hoping to catch you alone.”
A shiver went up her spine as panic swept through her. She knew that voice. It had haunted her for over five years. It was the voice of her nightmares. She didn’t bother to turn around. She didn’t want to see him.
“I’m taking our daughter home with me after the trial. Your sham marriage got you nothing. No Kavanagh is going to raise my child.”
“Do you even know the name of your child?” she asked coldly. “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl? What does this child look like? Are you finally admitting to raping me?” Her voice was bitter, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I remember having a good ol’ time with you. Force hadn’t been needed. The sheriff just told me about the girl. My daughter will live with me and my ma. I will make sure the girl never tries to heal anything.”
Sheila could hardly breathe. “Why? I always wondered why it was me you raped.”
“Your big brown eyes were begging for it, and I obliged.” With that, she heard his footsteps shuffle across the floor as he left, slamming the door behind him.
She reached for her bible and read Psalm 23.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
The verses comforted her, but not because she expected to die. To her, they meant that God was always with her. Sadness washed over her, but she had no more tears to cry. Sullivan would have to keep Becca protected, and that she knew he could do. She’d discuss it with him like normal people.
* * *
Snuggling together, Sheila and Becca made a beautiful picture. Sullivan hadn’t noticed before just how much mother and daughter looked alike. Sheila’s eyes spoke of happiness, but he could see the pain behind them. It was getting too crowded and rowdy in the town to bring Becca back. They were jostled on the short walk from the wagon to the jail. It would only get worse.
Arranging their marriage without asking her was unforgiveable, but he wasn’t sorry he’d done it. Sheila stirred him. She warmed his heart in a way he never imagined, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, he could lose her. He swallowed hard when Sheila gazed at him over her daughter’s head. He read a bit of resignation in her. He’d much rather be sparring with her than see her defeated.
She rocked with Becca’s head on her shoulder. “I had a visitor yesterday. He is someone who came into my life over five years ago. He said he had a claim here, and it didn’t matter about our wedding ceremony. I need to know you can… actually I’m asking you to protect her against that claim. She is the thing most precious to me, and I can’t be in peace if he gets his way.”
“He was here?”
She nodded as she continued to rock back and forth.
“Don’t worry, but I won’t be here for the trial. I’ll be making tracks.”
A few tears spilled down her face. “I’d hoped you’d agree. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“I’ve been praying things go your way.” He couldn’t even summon a smile for her. His heart was splintering.
“I thought you didn’t believe in God.”
He shrugged. “I counted my many blessings and realized God had always been with me.”
The sheriff returned to his office. “Visitin’ hours are over.”
He was lying, of course. There were no set hours for visiting, never had been. But Sullivan didn’t want to make things worse for Sheila. How was he supposed to take her child from her? Steeling himself against his sadness, he bent and gently cradled the sleeping girl in his arms. Before he straightened up, his lips found Sheila’s. The kiss was all too brief. He whispered into her ear. “I love you so much.” He couldn’t look her in the eye; he was afraid he’d break down and that could tip the sheriff off to his plan.
“Sullivan?” He stopped but didn’t turn back to her. “My heart breaks when we say goodbye. Please for my sake stay away.”
He nodded and walked out of her life.
He wanted to rage at the world, but he had to stay calm for Becca’s sake. Riding to the ranch using the long way home, he stopped at the back door. He slid out of the saddle with the small girl in his arms. Quietly, he entered the house and handed a sleeping Becca to Dolly.
“I’m going to pack a few things for me and Becca and then take off. The scum that sired her plans to take her once Sheila is sentenced. I don’t think she will be, but if things go wrong, I have an army buddy in Oklahoma.” He let out a shaky breath.
“You’re a fine man Sullivan, and I’m proud of you,” Dolly told him.
His heart warmed briefly at her praise. “I’ll be back in a few.” He headed upstairs to grab some clothes. He took a moment and sat on Sheila’s bed, holding her pillow to him. It smelled like lavender. He was going to miss her more than he ever thought possible, but he hoped the lawyer he hired would arrive t
oday and get her out of jail. Ben Whittaker was another army friend, and he was good. He always dressed like a dusty cowhand and enjoyed being underestimated.
“I’ll keep your daughter safe,” he said in the empty room. He hurried to pack supplies while Donnell hitched the wagon.
Becca cried when she woke up. It broke his heart to watch her peer around for her mother. Dolly tried to soothe her, but it wasn’t until she was back in Sullivan’s arms that she quieted. He wanted to get out of there before the whole family gathered.
“Donnell knows how to get in touch with me and he also knows the lawyer I hired. Take care of my,… my love until I can come back for her.” He skedaddled to the wagon and put Becca on the seat and then sat next to her. He put his arm around her and held the reins.
* * *
A tall, handsome cowboy with blond hair entered the jailhouse. The sheriff scowled at him.
“What do you want?” he asked irritably.
“I’m here to visit Mrs. Kavanagh. I’m her lawyer.” He stuck out his hand. “Ben Whittaker is the name.”
Sheriff Ganes looked at Ben’s hand and ignored it. “Where do you hale from?”
“I mostly drift around Texas. Sullivan Kavanagh hired me, and I’d like to talk to my client in private.”
Ganes looked the man up and down. “I can let you in her cell. Keep your voice down and that’s as private as it gets.”
Sheila’s eyes widened. This was the man who was to defend her? Her stomach clenched. She was as good as dead. She tried to smile at him when he entered her cell. She shook his hand and invited him to sit on the cot with her.
“I’ll need a bit of background. Were you and Sullivan in a close relationship when this happened?”
Sullivan: Cowboy Protector: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 4 Page 5