Meadowlark

by Carolyn Lampman

  “I hate it when you get noble,” she muttered as he called for Stolks to come let her out.

  “Listen, Becky. I’ve arranged for Breton to come here tonight and draw up my will. I’ve already found a buyer for my shop, and I’m leaving the money to you. If Cameron dies, I want you and Alaina to go to my family in Nerstrand, Minnesota. My father’s name is Knute Ellinson. He and my mother will welcome you with open arms if you tell them you’re my wife.”

  “Why should they believe me?”

  He raised her hand and rubbed his thumb across the horseshoe nail wrapped around her finger. “Because you wear this ring. They’ll know I wouldn’t give it to just anybody.” He pulled her into his arms for one last kiss. “Don’t forget me, little one,” he whispered against her lips.

  Abner Stolks had to clear his throat three times before they heard him.

  Chapter 35

  “Where are Angel and Alaina?” Becky asked Sam when she got to The Green Garter.

  “I heard her movin’ around in her room when I went by a while ago. Wait...” he called out as Becky headed toward the stairs. “Miss Angel don’t allow no one in her room when...” he sighed as she disappeared around the corner. Oh, well, she’d find out soon enough when Angel bounced her right back down the stairs. Sam shrugged and went back to his coffee.

  “Angel—” Becky was so upset, she burst into Angel’s room without even thinking to knock. “I just have to talk to someb...” She trailed off. The young woman seated at the vanity with her hairbrush frozen in mid-air was a stranger. “Oh, excuse me, I was looking for...” Again Becky halted in confusion. “Angel?”

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?” Angel sighed. “Come in and shut the door, Becky.”

  “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean... Is it really you, Angel?” Becky could hardly believe her eyes. With her hair falling around her in soft waves, and without the usual layer of heavy makeup, Angel looked a good fifteen years younger.

  “Yes, it’s me. In fact, it’s the real me, and as soon as you walk out that door you’ll forget you ever saw me like this.”

  “But why do you do it? I don’t understand.”

  “We all have our secrets, Becky, and quite frankly mine are none of your business.”

  Becky flushed and dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Angel sighed again. “Look, it’s Ox I’m upset with. I didn’t mean to yell at you. If the truth be known, you’re about the only person in this cesspool I trust.”

  Alaina chose that moment to wake up from her nap, and Becky went to pick her up off the bed with a flicker of relief for the distraction. Of course, if she thought about it, she’d always known there was something unusual about her friend. A glance around the room proved that. How many successful madams had a rag rug and a patchwork quilt in their bedroom, not to mention a bookcase full of books?

  Angel turned back to her mirror and began the long process of applying her makeup. “What’s happened to get you all upset?”

  As usual, Angel was right. Everyone had a right to their secrets, and Becky had no business sharing Garrick’s with anyone else. She’d just have to figure out how to save him by herself. “Garrick said he didn’t want me at the trial tomorrow.”

  “He told you that before.”

  “I know, but this time was different.” As the more familiar Angel began to appear, Becky felt more comfortable with her. “Oh, Angel, I just said good-bye to him. It hurts so bad I want to die.”

  Angel stuck her curling iron into the lamp chimney and deftly pinned her hair on top of her head. “He hasn’t been convicted yet.”

  “I know, but he’s sure he will be.”

  Angel gave Becky a sympathetic look in the mirror as she pulled her curling iron out of the chimney and began the long process of curling her hair. “I learned a long time ago to live for the moment. My advice to you is don’t start mourning him until he’s gone. Anything can happen between now and then.”

  Angel’s words stuck with Becky all through the long night as she sat with Cameron. She even felt more hopeful about him. Not only had he more readily swallowed the broth, his color seemed better and his breathing easier.

  Mostly, though, her thoughts were for Garrick. Anything could happen, especially if she took matters into her own hands. She toyed briefly with the idea of breaking him out of jail. It didn’t take her long to realize the futility of that, and she turned her mind to other options.

  Nothing had occurred to her by the time she delivered the breakfast that might well be Garrick’s last meal. She wasn’t even surprised when he refused to see her. With some notion of improvising as the opportunity arose, Becky retrieved Garrick’s revolver from its hiding place in the shop and had the livery man hitch Sophie to the buckboard before he left to get a good seat at the trial.

  She had no real plan when she returned to the jail to pick up the breakfast dishes. Her heart jerked when she realized the building was empty. Abner and Garrick had already left; she’d missed them. A huge knot formed in her throat.

  “Hello in the jail.”

  Becky lifted her head. Who in the world? Almost everyone in town was at the trial. She peered out the door. There were three men on horseback. Two were dressed in an odd combination of Indian and white clothing and appeared to be prisoners of the third, who led their horses.

  “Hello.” The man in charge swept the hat from his head and smiled when he saw Becky. “Is Sheriff Lucien around?”

  Becky noticed two things at once. The man had the longest red handlebar mustache she’d ever seen, and he was wearing a badge. “Marshal Dutton?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Sheriff Lucien isn’t here right now. He...uh...he asked me to stay here in case you rode in.”

  “I see.” Marshal Dutton scratched his head, then put his hat back on and swung down from his horse. “Is there room in the jail for my prisoners?”

  “There are three empty cells.”

  “I’ll only be needing two.”

  Becky hoped Abner hadn’t taken the keys with him. He usually did, but with the jail empty maybe...

  Luck was with her. She found the keys hanging behind the desk. It would buy her time to come up with a plan.

  As the marshal transferred his prisoners to the cells, Becky tried desperately to think of a way to keep him from the trial. Nothing came to her.

  “Did Captain Price contact the sheriff before his accident?” the marshal asked as he locked the door to the cellblock.

  It was a good thing his back was to her because Becky would have given herself away with her expression of shocked astonishment. Cameron was a captain in the army? Dutton was after Garrick for killing an army officer! What was the connection? Whatever it was, she had to get Dutton away and fast.

  Almost at once a devious plan began to form in her mind. “Hadn’t you heard the good news?” she asked as he turned around and handed her the keys.

  “What news?”

  “Cameron regained consciousness last night.”

  Marshal Dutton raised his eyebrows. “Now, that is good news. Is he all right?”

  Remembering Sheriff Lucien’s story about his brother, Becky nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, in fact, you’d never know there’d ever been anything wrong with him.”

  “Well I’ll be damned...uh... Excuse me, ma’am. I was just a bit surprised.”

  “I know how you feel. It’s like a miracle. Cameron left you a message, by the way.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, he said he’d found where the other man you were looking for has been hiding and asked me to bring you out.”

  Marshal Dutton looked skeptical. “Why you?”

  “He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone else.”

  “Who are you, anyway?”

  “M-my name is Becky.”

  “Becky.” The marshal relaxed and smiled. “You’re Price’s fiancée. He talked about Becky all the time. It�
�s a pleasure to meet you at last. You’re fully as pretty as Cameron said you were.”

  Becky blushed. This man was obviously a friend of Cameron’s. She hated to deceive him, but Garrick’s life was on the line. “This is my buckboard, so we can leave right now.”

  “Might as well.”

  Within minutes, Becky was driving the buckboard out of town with Marshal Dutton riding his horse along-side. Garrick’s pistol holster was tucked out of sight beneath the seat where Becky could just touch it with the heel of her foot.

  She was taking him to a deserted miner’s shack several miles from town, though she really wasn’t too certain what she’d do once she got there.

  Marshal Dutton turned out to be a pleasant companion, chatting comfortably about a variety of topics. Becky fought the urge to like him. After all, he was here to see Garrick hang.

  “There it is,” Becky said as they topped the rise above the cabin. She was relieved to see it was still deserted.

  Marshal Dutton looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

  “This is where Cameron told me to meet him.” That much was true, for this had been their trysting place for six weeks. Alaina had been conceived within its moldering walls.

  “It doesn’t look like he’s here.”

  “He probably hid his horse somewhere.”

  Dutton gave her an odd look. “Why would he do that?”

  “In case there’s any more of the gang around. It’s safer that way.”

  “Would he really want you to come out here if it was dangerous?”

  “He knew I’d be with you.”

  “That’s true.” He rubbed his mustache pensively as he surveyed the situation. “It looks safe enough from here. Shall we go on down?”

  Becky nodded, and they started down the hill toward the cabin. In the bright morning sunlight, it looked as though a good strong wind might blow it down. Surely it hadn’t been this dilapidated when Cameron brought her here eighteen months ago, or had she just been too starry-eyed to notice? One thing for certain, Cameron had no business calling her tidy little cabin a hovel!

  “Maybe I’d better go in first,” Marshal Dutton was saying as he dismounted. He tied his horse to what was left of the hitching rail outside. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as he was out of sight, Becky clambered down from the buckboard and pulled Garrick’s gun out of its holster. Clutching it nervously, she followed the marshal inside.

  It was obvious no one had been here in a long time. Light filtered in through a hole in the roof, and dust mites danced in the sunbeams as they fell across the rumpled bed in one corner. Marshal Dutton was staring at the empty wine bottle and guttered candles on the dusty table. Becky winced as she noticed the faded stocking hanging from the head of the bed. Had she really been so mesmerized by Cameron that she’d left her clothing behind?

  “Marshal Dutton.”

  He didn’t turn as he shook his head in amazement. “This looks more like a love nest than a hideout. Can’t think why Captain Price would want to come here.”

  “To seduce an extremely naive sixteen-year old, I’m afraid. However, this has nothing to do with Cameron, Marshal Dutton.”

  He looked at her for the first time, his steely gaze traveling from the gun barrel pointed at his chest up to her face. As their eyes locked, Becky felt a shock of horrified comprehension. She’d have to kill him if Garrick was to go free. Nothing else would make any difference. Suddenly, the gun felt as if it weighed twenty pounds.

  “Do you really want to shoot me?”

  “N-no, but I don’t have any choice.”

  “Why?”

  “So…so you can’t hang my husband.”

  “They’ll hang you instead.”

  An image of Alaina flashed across her mind, and she faltered. That moment of hesitation was all Daniel Dutton needed. In two strides, he crossed the room and wrested the pistol from her two-handed grasp.

  “Never was any good at talking when I was staring down the barrel of a gun,” he said. “Now just who the hell are you?”

  Becky slumped against the doorframe and closed her eyes. It had all been for nothing. “I didn’t lie about that.”

  “Then where is Cameron Price?”

  “He’s still at The Green Garter in a coma. I’m sorry I gave you false hope about him, but I didn’t know how else to get you away from town.”

  “To save your husband?”

  “That’s right.”

  “If you have a husband, how are you involved with Captain Price?”

  “He’s the father of my baby.”

  There was a moment of silence. “I don’t suppose you’d consider explaining all this to me?”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “What for? You’ll just go back to town and tell them to hang Garrick anyway.”

  “Garrick! Not Garrick Ellinson?” Suddenly he was staring at the gun in his hand. “My God, it is! I sat and watched him make this very pistol grip from a chunk of wood he found on patrol one day.” Dutton ran his fingers reverently over the smooth surface. “It’s bigger than normal to fit his hand. I thought I saw him in South Pass months ago, but they told me the man was a Swede.”

  “So, you do know him.”

  “Know him! Garrick Ellinson is the closest thing to a brother I ever had.”

  “Then why do you want to see him hang?”

  Daniel Dutton looked at her as though she’d sprouted two heads. “Whatever gave you an idea like that?”

  “Garrick told me so last night. He said he—he killed a man during the war, and you were one of the witnesses.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “It happened six years ago, Marshal. Garrick hasn’t seen his family or used his real name in all that time. Isn’t that enough punishment? Can’t you just forget you know where he is?”

  Daniel looked sick. “All this time he thought he was wanted for murder?”

  “He’s not?”

  “Hell no...uh pardon me, but I just can’t believe... Lord, he saved my life!” He looked at the pistol again. “I guess I should have known he’d feel that way. God never made a gentler soul than Garrick Ellinson.”

  “Then he didn’t kill anybody?” Becky asked hopefully.

  “Oh, he killed a man all right, but the rest of us considered him a hero, not a murderer.”

  “For killing his commanding officer?”

  Daniel took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “It was right at the end of the war. The Union army was getting short on officers and made some questionable promotions. One of them was Lieutenant Graverson. The man had no sense at all. He made one stupid mistake after another, and every one of them cost us a man or two.”

  He paced to the table and back again in agitation. The memory obviously still had the power to affect him. “We’d been moving east to join Grant’s troops for several days. There were signs of enemy activity in the area, but Graverson refused to stop and reconnoiter. He led us right into an ambush. We lost three quarters of the men we had left. When it was all over, Graverson started looking around for somebody to blame.”

  “Garrick,” Becky whispered.

  “No, Jan Ellinson and me. We’d been the scouts.”

  “Ellinson? Garrick’s brother?”

  “His cousin. The three of us grew up together, and were closer than brothers. Anyway, Graverson ordered Jan and me executed for treason. Nobody would follow the order, and he went berserk, yelling he’d do it himself. When Graverson pulled his pistol, I figured I breathed my last, but I reckoned without Garrick Ellinson. I’ll never forget it. He was only nineteen years old, but he looked like an avenging angel as he came crashing across that clearing and slammed one of those big fists of his into Graverson’s jaw.”

  “Garrick beat him to death?” Becky was horrified in spite of herself.

  “Nope, never hit him again. That one punch broke Graverson’s neck. About that time, the Rebs found us, and we all scattered into the underbrush. Those of us who made it to Grant’s camp
didn’t even have to discuss it. Lieutenant Graverson’s death was reported as a casualty of war. Since Garrick’s body was never found, I’ve always held the hope that he was somehow still alive, though I couldn’t imagine any reason he wouldn’t come home.” He stared at the gun in his hand. “All this time, he thought he was a wanted man.”

  Becky closed her eyes. “Poor Garrick.” All at once her eyes popped open. “So how does Cameron fit into all this?”

  “Price? Not at all, as far as I know. He’s been working with army intelligence for the last couple of years. Lately he’s been assigned to help me clean up a band of renegades that have been stirring up trouble with the Indians and terrorizing folks on the Overland Trail. He captured about twenty of them a few weeks ago in a box canyon.”

  “Cameron did?”

  “I heard a couple of civilians had a small part in it, too. At any rate, I just brought in the last two today. They haven’t confessed yet, but I’m pretty sure they were involved in the attack on Captain Price. I found his watch on one of them.”

  Becky clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, my God, the trial. Marshal Dutton, you’ve got to get on your horse and ride back to town to save Garrick!”

  By the time Becky had the story told, Daniel Dutton was in the saddle and heading out. “You’re sure you’ll be all right by yourself?”

  “Yes, now hurry.”

  All right? It was laughable. For six weeks, she’d come to this cabin by herself to meet Cameron. How could she have been so utterly stupid? With one last glance at the inside, she turned her back and climbed into the buckboard. Much as she’d like to destroy the evidence of her seduction, Becky had more important business to attend to. Garrick was still on trial for his life.

  Chapter 36

  “I’d like to call Ox Bruford to the stand.” Joe Simkins scanned the crowd expectantly. He smiled confidently as Ox came forward to be sworn in.