by Kaki Warner
Jane Knightly looked at the others. “That sounds hopeful, doesn’t it?”
“It would if she hadn’t disappeared right after,” Juno told her. “That makes her look guilty.”
“The grisly nature of the crime doesn’t help, either,” Briggs added. “If she set the fire, she needs to give a plausible explanation why. If she didn’t set it, she’ll have to explain why she ran.”
Such logic was wasted on Becky. “But we know she didn’t do it! She would never murder anyone, much less her own grandfather. If she did set the fire, she had a good reason and once the judge hears it, he’ll have to let her go.”
Ty admired her loyalty. It was apparent that Lottie had kept her friend in the dark, too, yet Becky never wavered.
“I’m sure you’re right, Becky.” Juno gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze then turned again to Ty. “Is there anything else we can do, Lieutenant?”
“She’ll need a lawyer. A good one. Sheriff Dodson doesn’t have much confidence in the one here in Greenbroke.”
“Because he’s a drunk.”
Becky sat up, her brown eyes sparking with interest, rather than tears. “You’re taking her to San Angela?” When Ty nodded, she rushed on. “She’s gotten a couple of letters from a lawyer there. Has an odd name. I could probably find the letters in her room.”
“If you do, wire him about the charges against her and tell him she’ll be arriving in San Angela day after tomorrow. I’ll pay his fees.”
“Wouldn’t that be in conflict with your ranger duties?” Briggs asked.
“I won’t be with the rangers then. The minute we get her to the San Angela jail, I’m quitting.” He had no stomach for this job anymore. Whether she was guilty or innocent, everything had changed.
His announcement caused a stir, but Ty impatiently waved aside their questions. Millsap would be finishing his dinner about now and Ty needed to get back to Lottie. “One last thing,” he said to Becky. “She’ll need clothes and personal items to take with her. Can you get that together and bring it to the jail?”
Becky nodded.
“What about food?” Jane Knightly asked. “I can bring something from the club’s kitchen. Have you eaten dinner, Ranger Benton?”
Ty shook his head and thanked her for the gesture, although he wasn’t sure either he or Lottie would have much appetite. He rose and picked up his hat. “See you at the jail.”
When Lottie heard the door into the sheriff’s office open, she felt such relief her knees shook. She could tell by the heaviness of the footfalls that it was Ty. Sheriff Dodson was older and had a slow, shuffling gait. Braver now that she was no longer alone with Millsap, she glared at the smirking ranger, still shaken by his suggestion that if she cooperated he’d see that things went easier for her. She wasn’t sure what he meant by “cooperate,” but by the look in his piggish eyes when he said it, he wasn’t referring to legalities.
When Ty walked up to her cell, he must have seen her panic. “What’s going on, Millsap?”
“Just trying to get a confession and save us the trouble of a trial.” Millsap glanced from Ty’s furious face to Lottie’s frightened one. A look of speculation settled over his weathered features. “You two got something going between you?”
Ty didn’t answer, but Lottie recognized the struggle for control behind the icy glare.
The older ranger saw it, too. “So that’s how it is. Do I have to watch you now, too, Benton?”
“Do what you want,” Ty said through tight lips. “But I’ll be watching you, too.”
They glowered at each other for a few seconds, then Millsap shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned back to Lottie. “I’ll tell you what I tell all my prisoners, Miss Weyland. Try to run and I’ll put a bullet in your back. Give me lip and I’ll gag you. Escape and I’ll hunt you down like a dog.” His gaze shifted to Ty. “And if you sweet talk Benton here into helping you, I’ll do the same to him. Understand?”
Neither answered.
He studied them a moment longer. “We leave on the early train.” And without another word he left.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Lottie stepped closer and grabbed the bars of her cell. They felt cold and greasy in her hands, making her wonder how many other desperate prisoners had clutched them before her.
“Ty, I’m so sorry I brought you into this.”
He didn’t respond. She could feel that intense gaze studying her, could read the questions and doubts he was struggling with, saw the anger that made the blue in his eyes burn even hotter.
“Just tell me one thing, Lottie,” he finally said in a hard, cold voice. “Did you do it? Did you kill your grandfather?”
That he would ask that question told her how his thoughts ran. She shouldn’t blame him. And yet she did. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
His fury sent her back a step, yet the distance between them seemed to stretch an immeasurable distance. She’d lost him. Her silence had cost her his trust, his faith. His love. The sudden sense of loss almost doubled her over. Only pride kept her upright. He deserved the truth, even if it was too slow in coming, and no matter how painful it might be. “I don’t know if I killed him. When I set—”
“Stop!” He thrust up a shaking hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it.”
“But I thought you—”
“You’re not supposed to talk about this to anyone—not Millsap, not the sheriff, not even me—unless your lawyer is with you. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“But I want you to know, Ty. I want to tell you what I should have told you months ago.” How could she fix this if he wouldn’t even listen to what she had to say? “I know you would never repeat—”
“No.” Shaking his head, he stepped back as far as the narrow space outside her cell would allow. “I’m an officer of the court. I have to report anything you say to the judge.”
“But it’s just me, Ty. You and me. Can’t we—”
“No.” She hardly recognized the harsh tone of his voice, the trapped look in his eyes. “I took an oath, Lottie. If you don’t say anything, then I won’t have to lie to protect you.”
Lie? So he thought she did murder Grandpa? Without even hearing her side of it?
Ty started to say more when the door opened.
“Lottie!” Becky shouted.
“Back here,” Lottie called.
A moment later, Becky burst through the doorway between the cells and the sheriff’s front office, Juno right behind her. “I’ve been so worried! Are you all right? I sent a wire to that lawyer in San Angela and told him that you were coming, and look!” She held up a small bag and nodded toward the larger valise hanging from Juno’s hand. “We brought you clothes and your reticule, and a brush, and some hairpins, and . . . are you sure you’re all right? You look like you’ve been crying.”
Becky did, too. “I’m worried and a little frightened, but unharmed. I see you brought reinforcements.” She greeted Jane and Briggs, embarrassed that they should see her like this, but grateful they had come to show support. “Thank you so much for being here. It means a lot to me to see friendly faces.”
Sheriff Dodson had returned, and came into the hallway behind the others. He seemed surprised to see so many people crowded outside Lottie’s cell. “Party?”
“Just saying their good-byes,” Ty told him.
Jane stepped up to the bars, her arms laden with a cloth-wrapped basket. “I brought you something to eat. There’s enough for Ranger Benton, too.” When she looked for a way to shove the basket between the bars, Dodson put out a hand.
“I’ll have to check that, ma’am. Just to make sure you haven’t slipped a six shooter in there with the vittles.” He said it with a smile, but they all knew he wasn’t joking. Nodding to the bags Juno and Becky held, he added, “I’ll need to see th
ose, too. If you’ll carry them into the front office, I’ll inspect them there.”
It was humiliating to have her personal things pawed through. But Lottie was glad to have them. She would need fresh clothing in the morning. The thoughtfulness of her dear friends almost undid her. Especially when they didn’t ask if she was guilty of the charges against her. Unlike Ty, who seemed to have made up his mind already.
“Miss Weyland.” Briggs frowned at Ty, obviously wishing to speak to her privately. When Ty didn’t move, he went on. “You mustn’t say anything about your case in front of—”
“I know. He already told me.” Peering toward the office to make sure Jane couldn’t hear, she waved the Englishman closer. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I—”
“You must soldier on, Miss Weyland. I’m sure you will be back home in—”
“I’m not talking about that,” she cut in impatiently. “I’m talking about the way you’ve been bullying Jane. You’ve got to stop it, Mr. Briggs. I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re only hurting her.”
“I see.” He stiffened, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him. “And you’ll explain to me why that is any of your business?”
“Don’t play the soldier with me, Briggs. It’s my business because I care about both of you and want you to be happy.” Nothing was quite as trite as jailhouse avowals, but Lottie meant it. She loved all these people. They were her family now and she wanted their happiness—even if she might not be around to manage it for them. “Jane doesn’t want to leave. And I don’t think you want to go back, either.”
“Go back where?” Jane asked, walking up behind Briggs.
“To the club,” Lottie hedged. “I appreciate what you’ve done. All of you,” she added as Becky and Juno crowded behind Jane. “But I’m very tired. And I can see how this ordeal has wearied you, too. So please go home, say a prayer for me, and hold good thoughts.”
Becky began crying, promising she would. As she turned to go, Lottie grabbed Juno’s arm. “Don’t let her be alone,” she whispered. “She really needs you now, Juno.”
He started to argue with her, then gave a curt nod and followed Becky out.
Jane moved closer to the bars. “Take heart, dearest. In England, I, too, was accused of something I didn’t do. It was terrifying. I doubt I would have gotten through it without Anson.” She shot the big Englishman a fond smile, which he tried to ignore. “But I did. And you will, as well. Trust your ranger, as I did my soldier, and he’ll see no harm befalls you.”
Lottie glanced at Ty.
He stared back, those flame blue eyes so intense they looked lit from within.
“Now, try to sleep.” Jane reached through the bars and patted Lottie’s arm. “I’ll send another basket of food to the station in the morning. Ranger Benton, make certain she eats. We don’t want her getting sick, do we?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll see she’s taken care of.”
“I have no doubt of it.” A pat on his arm, too, then she swept down the hall, Briggs at her heels.
Lottie felt tears welling. She was terrified she might never see any of them again.
After the outside door closed behind them, Ty glanced into the office to see that Dodson had finished inspecting the basket and two bags her friends had brought. “I’ll get your dinner. And while you eat, maybe you should worry about your own problems, rather than trying to manage everyone else’s.”
A mean thing to say. But he was right. If she was to get through this, she had best start thinking about what she should do next.
It promised to be a long, horrible night. She hardly had the strength to swallow the delicious food Jane had brought, and wondered how she would ever be able to sleep in this dismal place. As soon as Ty had devoured everything she couldn’t eat, he convinced Sheriff Dodson he needn’t stay the night, sent him on his way, then moved a chair from the front room to the hallway outside her cell.
“Sleep,” he ordered, slouching down, his ankles and arms crossed. “I’ll see that no one disturbs you.”
In view of his anger and lack of faith in her, Lottie wondered why he bothered. Or why he’d come to Greenbroke in the first place.
If only he would let her explain what she’d done and why. But even if she did, would a man as honorable as Ty—one who saw the world in black and white and put duty to the ranger star above loyalty to the woman he professed to love—ever be able to forgive her?
Chapter 17
Lottie managed to get a few hours’ rest before Ty called through the bars that it was time to wake up. After returning her valise and allowing her privacy to change, he brought in the dreaded handcuffs.
“It’s only a formality,” he explained, obviously as upset about the manacles as she was. “I don’t want to give Millsap any reason for complaint.”
Lottie looked at him in surprise. Ty was younger, stronger, bigger. Surely the paunchy ranger posed no threat to him. “Are you afraid of him?”
He snorted at the idea. “I don’t trust him. He’s got a mean streak. Several prisoners have complained.” The click of the cuffs locking over her wrists sounded loud in the small, stone room. “We’ll use the back door.” Taking her elbow, he steered her out of the cell.
Lottie remembered the way Millsap had looked at her when he’d suggested she cooperate. She didn’t doubt he could be a threat to her. But she was tall for a woman and agile and Grandpa had taught her how to drop a man to his knees with a well-placed kick. “I can take care of myself.”
Ty gave her a look. “And everybody else, it seems.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He stepped ahead of her onto the back stoop, scanned the alley, then led her toward the small outhouse standing in the weeds at the edge of the rutted road behind the jail. “Just stay clear of Millsap and do what I tell you. I don’t want to give him any excuse to send me back. I wouldn’t be able to help you then.”
It pleased her that he still cared enough to worry about her. But she didn’t need the warning. She’d already had one confrontation with Millsap and knew if he came at her again, she might not have metal bars to keep him at bay.
At the reeking outhouse, Ty removed the manacles and waited by the door while she tended to her needs. When she stepped out, gasping for fresh air, he replaced the cuffs and escorted her back to the jail.
Another humiliating experience. She supposed she had best get accustomed to them.
Once in her cell, he removed the cuffs again and left, only to return a minute later with a small bar of soap, a scrap of towel, and a pan of cold water to wash in. He also gave her the hairpins the sheriff had confiscated during his search. “We’ll head to the depot in ten minutes. You’ll be handcuffed again and Millsap with walk with us, but I’ll try to make it as easy on you as I can.”
“Thank you.”
They were back to stilted politeness, all the warmth between them gone. She almost wished he would shout at her or leave so she wouldn’t have to suffer his cold withdrawal. But that same sense of honor that wouldn’t allow him to talk to her, also wouldn’t allow harm to befall her. She took comfort in that. “Did you get my letter?” she asked as he started back toward the front office.
He stopped. “Recently? Where did you send it?”
“Austin. But I only posted it a few days before you arrived, so it probably never reached you.” Just as well. If things went south in San Angela, she might never see the Buck place again. Or Ty.
“I’ll send word to have it forwarded to San Angela.”
“It’s not important.”
He studied her for a moment. “Any letter from you is important.”
Lottie tried to smile, but feared her face might crack. “You can say that now, after all this?”
“Lottie . . .” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, frustration apparent
in the way he avoided her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally burst out. “I might have been able to help you if you had.”
“Like you’re helping me now?” Unfair. She knew it. But he wasn’t the only one suffering disappointment. She had expected better of him, too. “I did try to tell you,” she reminded him. “But you said you couldn’t talk to me about it.”
“Now I can’t. But I could have if you’d told me earlier.” She could see the uncertainty in his face and wondered if it would stand between them forever.
“I just wish you’d told me, Lottie. It was a shock, finding out the way I did. Made me wonder if I knew you at all.”
“I’m the same person I was before you knew about Grandpa. You’re the one who’s changed.”
“I still love you.” It sounded less like a declaration than a grudging admission.
“Still?” Should she dance a jig across the cell floor? “Even though you don’t know if I’m guilty or not? How loyal of you.”
“Damnit, Lottie! What am I supposed to think? I walk into ranger headquarters, see your name and a drawing of you pinned to the wall—‘Charlotte Weyland, Wanted for Murder’—what the hell am I supposed to think?”
“That I might be innocent?”
He gave a long, heavy sigh. “I know you’re not a murderer. Any woman who would charge into the middle of a gunfight to help a wounded man could never be a cold-blooded killer. Whatever happened between you and your grandfather was not by your design. But you should have trusted me enough to tell me. That’s what I can’t get past. I don’t need you to buy me a ranch, or shield me from the truth, or keep secrets you think I won’t want to hear. I’m the one who should be protecting you, not the other way around.”
“I wasn’t trying to protect you. I was protecting myself. I was ashamed. And I was afraid if I told you . . .” She spread her hands in a gesture of defeat. “This would happen.”
She waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she gave up. “If we’re leaving in ten minutes,” she said, wearily, “I need to wash and tidy my hair.”