Meadowlark

by Carolyn Lampman

  Over the next few hours, Garrick broke his own rule and proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk for the first time in his life. Sometime after midnight, he staggered back to his shop and collapsed on his pallet.

  The sun was up before he moved again. He awakened slowly. The pain behind his eyes was nearly as bad as the one in his side.

  “Wake up, Swede.”

  Garrick opened his eyes slowly and blinked up at the town constable just as a boot nudged his ribs again.

  “Wh-what’s wrong?” he asked, his tongue thick and unresponsive in his mouth.

  “You’re under arrest, Swede, for the murder of Cameron Price.”

  Chapter 29

  “Becky, open the door.”

  The sound of Angel’s voice and her insistent knocking finally penetrated Becky’s deep sleep. She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes. “Angel?”

  “Yes, now open the door.”

  As Becky slid off the bed, the voice of Mrs. O’Reily came through the wooden panel. “Here now, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I came to speak with Mrs. Swenson.”

  “Did you indeed?” came the indignant response. “I might have known someone like her would keep company with a...a scarlet woman. Well, I won’t have the likes of you in my house, and as for Mrs. Swenson—”

  “She won’t be one bit happier about this than you are,” Angel broke in. “Mrs. Swenson wouldn’t give me the time of day under normal circumstances.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Dr. Caldwell sent me.”

  “Dr. Caldwell? But—”

  Whatever Mrs. O’Reily had been about to say was lost as Becky finally managed to pull the chair out from under the doorknob and fling the door open. “What do you mean waking me up at this ungodly hour?” she asked with irritation. With sleep still clouding her mind, it was the first thing she could think of that would lend credence to Angel’s story.

  “This...person says she has a message from Dr. Caldwell but—” the landlady began.

  “Dr. Caldwell?” Becky said, opening her door wider. “You’d better get inside then, before someone comes along. I certainly hope no one saw you come in.”

  “No,” Angel said, stepping inside. “I was very careful to use the back door.”

  “Just as you should,” Becky said indignantly, then turned to the landlady. “And you can be sure I’ll make certain she leaves the same way, Mrs. O’Reily.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe—”

  “I’ll be quite all right, but thank you for your concern.” Becky shut the door on the still blustering landlady.

  “I’ll bet the old biddy’s ear is pressed to the door,” Angel whispered.

  Becky nodded and plopped down on the bed. Alaina woke at once with a howl. “How’s that?” she said in a low voice.

  “You are a sly one, aren’t you?” Angel said as she joined her on the bed.

  Becky grinned. “Alaina always wakes up grouchy.”

  Angel eyed her rumpled appearance. “And do you always sleep in your clothes?”

  “No, I fell asleep last night before I got undressed.” She shrugged. “Not that it would have mattered much anyway. All my nightclothes are at home. Now, what’s all this about?”

  “Bad news I’m afraid. Somebody ambushed Cameron Price behind my place last night and tried to beat him to death.”

  Becky was horrified. “Oh, no. Is he all right?”

  “No, he’s hurt pretty bad.”

  “How bad?” Becky asked fearfully.

  Angel sighed. “I won’t lie to you, Becky. Doc Caldwell says he hasn’t got a chance in hell of making it.”

  “Oh, Angel,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I was so mean to him yesterday. If he dies, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Angel was silent for a moment as she rubbed Becky’s shoulder soothingly. “You haven’t heard the worst of it, I’m afraid,” she said at last.

  “What could be worse?”

  “They arrested Swede this morning.”

  “They what?” Becky’s head came up with a jerk. “Why?”

  “Because he’s their only suspect.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. Garrick would never do anything like that. What made them think it was him?”

  “He and Cameron had an argument at my place last night for, one thing.”

  “About what?”

  Angel shrugged. “Nobody seems to know, but I have my suspicions.”

  Becky stared at her for a long moment then looked down. “Me.”

  “It’s a distinct possibility. There’s bound to be trouble when two men love the same woman.”

  “That isn’t the case here,” Becky’s voice was almost a whisper. “Garrick doesn’t love me, and I’m not sure Cameron knows the meaning of the word.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake. That’s about the silliest thing you’ve ever—”

  “Mrs. Swenson?” A heavy knock sounded on the door. “Is everything all right?”

  “Just fine, Mrs. O’Reily.”

  “That’s my cue to leave,” Angel said, rising. “They took Cameron over to my place because it was close. I have an extra crib since Molly’s gone. It’s kind of small for a sick room, but I guess he can stay there for the time being. Trouble is, he needs someone with him all the time, and we can’t do it all.”

  “I’ll help, of course,” Becky said as she picked up Alaina.

  Angel nodded. “I figured I could count on you, though I really hate to ask.”

  “You didn’t, I volunteered.” Becky glanced at the door. “What do we tell Mrs. O’Reily?” she whispered.

  “Not a damn thing,” Angel whispered back as she took two steps across the room. With a wink at Becky, she threw open the door and watched as Mrs. O’Reily stumbled into the room. The other woman’s ear had obviously been plastered to the door, and she’d been unprepared for Angel’s sudden movement. “Do be careful, Mrs. O’Reily. The floor seems to be quite uneven here.” With another wink at Becky behind Mrs. O’Reily’s back, Angel left.

  Becky caught Mrs. O’Reily’s elbow with her free hand. “Are you all right?” she asked as she helped the other woman right herself.

  “I think so. I wasn’t expecting...I mean...”

  Becky mentally blessed Angel for the diversion. If luck were on her side, she could make her escape before Mrs. O’Reily asked a lot of embarrassing questions that Becky really didn’t want to answer. She reached down and grabbed several diapers and Alaina’s blanket. “I have to run. See you later.”

  Becky left the landlady behind her as she ran down the stairs and out the door. Once she reached the street, she stopped, her mind whirling in confusion. She needed to go somewhere safe and sort it all out. With that thought, she turned and started down the street, her steps taking her unerringly to Garrick’s blacksmith shop.

  Balancing Alaina in one arm, she swung open the huge door and stepped into the welcoming darkness. She put Alaina in her pen and opened the window, then automatically changed and dressed Alaina. The familiar motions were comforting, but without the ring of Garrick’s hammer, the smithy was horribly quiet. No fire glowed in the forge, and the tools remained in their places on the wall. It stood waiting for the smith to return. She wondered if he ever would.

  Becky wandered over to the peg that held Garrick’s leather apron. She reached out to touch the shirt that hung there with the apron. Sleeveless and stained, it was little better than a rag, but Garrick insisted it was exactly right for the work he had to do. As she thought of the many times she had washed it, tears welled up in her eyes.

  How could this have happened? Cameron was near death and Garrick in jail. Was she the cause? Where did her loyalties lie? Though her heart belonged to Garrick, she couldn’t very well turn her back on Cameron. He was the father of her child. How could she choose between the two men, especially now when she might lose either or both of them?

  Becky’s thoughts wen
t around and around. Life had been simple before Cameron returned. Now it had gotten so complicated nothing made sense any more. She wiped away the tears in her eyes. Crying wasn’t going to do anybody any good. The first order of business was to visit the jail and see what she could do for Garrick. An image of what she must look like popped into her mind. She couldn’t very well go to the jail all rumpled and tear-streaked.

  Garrick had been living in his shop since he had left their cabin. It didn’t take long to locate his things in the loft. After she washed her face and hands, she felt much better. Though Garrick’s comb wasn’t equal to the snarls in her long, thick hair, she finally managed to work out the worst and pull it back into a fairly respectable knot without breaking the comb.

  With a deep sigh, she smoothed her hands over her skirt. There wasn’t much she could do about her clothes, so they would have to do for now. The face reflecting back from Garrick’s tiny shaving mirror was a bit wan but presentable, at least.

  Alaina had pulled herself up in the small pen and was standing there happily chewing on the edge when Becky climbed back down the ladder. “Ma...Ma..Ma,” she said.

  Becky looked at her in surprise. “Mama?”

  “Ma,” Alaina said and promptly stuck her fingers in her mouth.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Becky said as she bent to pick her up. “You’ve been saying Da for almost two weeks now.” The words brought a sharp pang as Becky thought of the man Alaina thought was her father and the one who actually was.

  The jail was right across the street from Garrick’s shop. Inside, the newly elected town constable was asleep with his feet up on the desk, and his chair leaned back against the wall. Becky glanced around the bleak little room with disgust. Light came through two windows latticed with flat strips of metal. The desk and chair were the only furnishings except for a small pot-bellied stove in one corner. Everything was covered with a layer of dust.

  If the jail was this barren here, how much worse was Garrick’s cell going to be? Becky looked at the heavy wooden door set in the middle of the wall with two barred windows on either side of it and shivered. The cells that opened off the room beyond that door would be almost completely dark.

  Her attention returned to the constable who slept on, blithely unaware of her presence. She cleared her throat. No response. “Excuse me?”

  “Huh...what?” The man started, nearly upending his chair as he jerked awake.

  “Excuse me,” Becky repeated. “I’d like to visit Garrick Swenson, please.”

  “Who?”

  “Swede.”

  “Oh.” He scratched his cheek and glanced at the door. “‘Fraid I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not.”

  “It ain’t safe. He’s a murderer.”

  “He is not!” Becky said indignantly. “Cameron Price is still alive, and it hasn’t been proven Swede attacked him anyway. Besides, he’s my husband. I’m perfectly safe with him.”

  “Not from what I hear. He near killed your lover last night. If he was that mad, can’t figure he’d be real friendly toward you either.”

  “Are you in charge here?”

  “With city prisoners.”

  “Oh, who’s in charge of the rest?”

  “The county sheriff.”

  “Where would I find him?”

  “I dunno. Said he was going to get a shave and haircut, then ride on over to Atlantic City.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know where he was planning to get the haircut, would you?”

  “Nope, he didn’t say. In the saloon next door maybe.”

  “Thank you,” Becky turned toward the door.

  “Won’t do you no good to talk to the sheriff,” he called after her. “He ain’t real fond of unfaithful wives, either.”

  Becky didn’t even bother to answer. If she could just find the sheriff. John Lucien had always been friendly to Garrick. Surely he’d let her see her own husband. Becky located him in the back of the saloon just as he was climbing out of the barber’s chair.

  “Sheriff Lucien?”

  The sheriff glanced up. “Mrs. Swenson.”

  “Could I speak to you, please?”

  “Of course.” He handed the barber two bits before turning to Becky and gesturing toward the door. “Shall we step outside?”

  “I want to see my husband,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot of the other saloon patrons.

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You know my husband well enough to realize he’s not a violent man. Even if he were the one who attacked Cameron, he wouldn’t still be mad enough to hurt me.”

  The sheriff gazed off across the street. “There have been...uh...rumors.”

  “I’m well aware of the rumors, Sheriff. There is very little truth in them, and my husband knows it.”

  “You haven’t been living together.”

  “No, but not because he thinks I’ve been unfaithful.” Becky sighed. “Sheriff, there’s a lot you don’t know. Has anyone told you what happened yesterday?”

  “No.”

  He listened intently as Becky told the story of Alaina’s rescue. When she finished, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Do you cook, Mrs. Swenson?”

  Becky gave him a startled look. “Yes, but I don’t see—”

  “Since the assault happened inside the city limits, the city constable’s jurisdiction and mine overlap somewhat. I can’t in good conscience override his decision.”

  “But—”

  Sheriff Lucien held up his hand to forestall her. “However, there are certain rules we have to follow with prisoners. For instance, we have to provide them with three meals a day and clean clothes. For a long-term prisoner we usually hire someone to take care of both. If you were to take the job, you would at least have reason to be inside the jail three times a day.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “It won’t get you inside Swede’s cell, you understand. You’ll have to convince Abner Stolks to allow that. If you prove you can be trusted, he’ll relax. He’s not unreasonable; he’s just doing his job the best way he knows how. I’ll let you in for a short visit now, but the rest is up to you.”

  “Oh, thank you, Sheriff. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

  “You have to be completely honest with me. Is there anything I need to know?”

  “I… I also promised to help the girls at The Green Garter with Cameron.”

  He gave her a sympathetic look. “This must be very difficult for you.”

  Becky blinked back sudden tears. “It’s awful.”

  “I’m afraid it’s going to get a lot worse before it’s over.”

  “You think my husband did it, don’t you?”

  Sheriff Lucien shrugged. “It’s not my job to decide guilt or innocence, only to gather all the evidence so a judge and jury can. This is a difficult situation. The Justice of the Peace has asked for the circuit judge to try the case because he feels it’s beyond his expertise. Kind of too bad Esther Morris isn’t the Justice any more. She wouldn’t have been afraid.”

  Becky agreed wholeheartedly. Esther Morris had acquitted herself quite well in her eighteen months as justice. “If he’s found guilty, what will they do to him?”

  “The judge will pass sentence. If Price survives, Swede would probably go to the Territorial Prison in Laramie.”

  “And if Cameron dies?” Becky asked fearfully.

  “Then it becomes murder.”

  “And?”

  “And he’ll hang.”

  Chapter 30

  “Better check to make sure she ain’t sneakin’ anything in to him,” Abner Stolks said, eyeing Becky suspiciously.

  Sheriff Lucien gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Swenson, but I will have to search you for weapons.”

  “All right.” Becky wasn’t sure what that entailed, but she certainly wasn’t going to jeopardize her visit to Garrick over a technicality. The city constable wa
s just looking for a reason to deny her the privilege. He’d been arguing long and hard against it ever since the sheriff had told him of the plan.

  “If you’ll take the baby, Stolks, I’ll check her.”

  Abner Stolks turned a little pale. “You want me to hold the baby?”

  “Just until I finish the search.”

  It was hard to say who was more reluctant to do their part, Constable Stolks, Sheriff Lucien or Becky. Even Alaina protested when her mother handed her to the unfamiliar man. Though strangers didn’t usually bother her, this one made her feel very insecure with his overly cautious grip on her.

  Becky’s gasp of shocked embarrassment as Sheriff Lucien ran his hands lightly over her was equaled only by the sheriff’s own discomfort. In fact, his search was so unobtrusive that anything smaller than a Colt .44 would have passed unnoticed.

  By the time he finished, Becky had turned several shades of red and Alaina was crying at the top of her lungs. The crying stopped the minute Becky took the baby back.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Swenson,” Sheriff Lucien said regretfully. “The baby will have to stay here.”

  “Why?”

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Considering the circumstances, I can’t in good conscience let you take her in.”

  “But he’s her father.”

  “Is he?” He glanced pointedly at Alaina then back to Becky.

  As his meaning became clear, Becky felt herself blushing even darker. “Sheriff Lucien, my husband loves Alaina. In fact, he risked his life to save her just yesterday. No matter how mad he might be at me or Cameron, he certainly wouldn’t take it out on Alaina.”

  “Nevertheless—”

  “Oh, all right, but you better find something to distract her, or she’ll scream her head off.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Swenson, I have three of my own. I know how to handle babies.” To Becky’s surprise, Alaina seemed perfectly content to go to Sheriff Lucien and even smiled at him when he chucked her under the chin. “See, we’ll be fine. All right, Abner, let Mrs. Swenson in.”

  Becky followed the constable through the door and across the room beyond to the row of cells. There were four, each with a thick wooden door and a small barred window. Becky felt strangely nervous as Abner Stolks stopped in front of the middle door. Except for yesterday, she and Garrick hadn’t spoken since the morning Cameron had dropped in.