Lincoln County Series 1-3

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Lincoln County Series 1-3 Page 27

by Sarah Jae Foster


  Burning with embarrassment he had no choice really unless he wanted to make a scene, which was tempting to be sure. At least he wasn’t completely ignorant of polite society as he remembered to remove his hat halfway down the aisle. Stephen picked up presumably where he’d left off and Jake was grateful for no more attention placed upon him like a bulls-eye. So, he would be biding his time in a pew instead of an old bench outside of the jail. No skin off of his back.

  Stephen was sharing a story about a man in bible times named Saul. He was a murderer of Christians out of hate and sport. Jake thought it was a nice story, entertaining at best until the preacher pointed out that God had forgiven him. He became disgusted with the urge he had to flee. No way would he give Stephen the pleasure of seeing him squirm. Why would God outright forgive a man for killing his own people? Better yet, why would He even allow His people to be murdered? People like Andrew… Then of all things this Saul had been chosen, given a new name of Paul and began a new life of serving God’s people. That couldn’t be right. Where was the justice? What was the purpose in all of that? The despised feeling of being unsettled came back full force, and the moment Stephen bowed his head and closed his eyes in prayer to end his sermon, Jake beelined it out the front door. Once outside, he breathed in deeply. The air was thick and brought a refreshing calmness.

  *** *** ***

  The next morning, before Jake had made it out the door to obtain his money and hightail it out of the awful place, Stephen had come to the boarding house. Jake swallowed the last of his coffee and stared at the preacher-sheriff, unwillingly to break the silence.

  Stephen pulled out a chair. “Mrs. Hillstone, would you mind pouring me a cup of your famous coffee?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.”

  Jake understood he was in for a talk. So long as this was the last thing required of him to acquire pay, rightfully due to him, he’d finish out the man’s game. He couldn’t resist asking, “What is it that people are supposed to call you? Sheriff Palmer? Reverend Stephen?” He reclined. “It could get a mite confusing in this town of yours.”

  Stephen received a steaming cup of coffee and gestured to Mrs. Hillstone to refill Jake’s empty cup. “They call me whatever I am to them. Some call me flat out Mr. Palmer, but boy howdy, that just makes me sound old!” He shuddered.

  Jake mumbled a “much obliged” to Mrs. Hillstone, hoping she would dismiss herself. After fawning over Stephen, she finally left them be. Everybody treated him like some sort of legend. It was unnatural. The man couldn’t be much older than himself. Stephen’s eyes were trained on him, knowing there was a purpose for the visit. He’d let the sheriff get on with it in his own time because he sure wasn’t seeking conversation over a cup of coffee with nobody. He was expecting to hear the words, “when are you leaving our fair town?” Or something akin to that. So he was ill prepared for what came out of Stephen’s mouth instead.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  Shifting a bit in his seat, Jake waited to hear this mysterious proposition.

  “I need to be heading to Montana Territory, leaving tomorrow if I can, and would like you to sit in for me as sheriff.”

  Clearing his head, Jake replied, “No offense, but you don’t know nothin’ about me.”

  “I’ve been known to judge more than one man accurately over my time, and after sizing you up the past few days, I believe my instincts are right.”

  Jake did not care to have been sized up at all, but in fairness, he’d of done the same thing if a stranger walked into his town, had he been a sheriff. “And just what are your instincts about me, Sheriff Palmer?” Well then, he’d just defined who the man was to him, because nobody was his reverend.

  Stephen took his coffee down like a shot of tequila. Jake was impressed. Almost liking the man’s confidence, believing he could hold his own in any situation.

  “I have you pegged for an honest man, one who would keep his word.”

  A fire lit inside of Jake’s belly. What was this? Squarely, he looked at Stephen, taking note to call him out for mocking him. “Like I said, you don’t know nothin’ about me and what you said isn’t true. I’m not a man of honor. In fact, I’d like to get that reward money so I can be on my way.” He slid back, chair scraping against the wood floor, and stood, challenging Stephen at the same time. “You got my money, sheriff?”

  Placing both hands on the table as if he were disappointed, Stephen stood as well. Eye to eye. “I meant what I asked of you, Jake. I need to see my brother in Montana. He’s a preacher too. Name’s Jonathan. There isn’t a soul around I would entrust this town to but you. I believe it’s the reason you’re even standing here, right before me. I’ve worked too dang hard on making this a God-fearing place to have it ruined in a month’s time.”

  Jake’s guard went down a few notches, but disbelief was still ringing his ears. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around.”

  “You got someplace else to be?”

  Pain etched his features. He could feel it and knew it was showing, telling on him. “I reckon I don’t.”

  In a friendly manner, Stephen thudded the palm of his hand on Jake’s shoulder a few times and said, “Well then, why don’t you stay on a while and prove me right on my inclination about you being a man of your word, eh?”

  Emotionally defeated, Jake had no further argument and clearly nowhere else to go. “I ain’t covering for your preaching, that’s for sure.”

  Stephen smiled wide. “I wouldn’t ask that of ya.” He let out a whistle. “That’s harder than being the sheriff! Come on, let me show you around. My family’s waiting on me in the West and I’m looking forward to seeing me some pine trees!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stephen was correct in that this law-abiding town were God-fearing folk. Jake didn’t know who took over the preaching, but there were sure a lot of churchgoers and church activities going on. And the interim job of being sheriff was an easy one. Jake was beginning to think that following Ivan to the poker table three weeks ago was likely the most action anyone had seen in some time. During his tenure of doing much of nothing at the jail, Jake realized the desire to hunt down outlaws had truly left him. It hadn’t been a phase—he was done. He hadn’t chosen to leave it behind, but he knew he couldn’t track down another outlaw for money ever again. Aside from the Gun Shop, he wasn’t sure how else he’d come to supplement his income. The reward money had always allowed him to live a comfortable life, so now what?

  Sure nothing was going to go down, he decided to lock up the jail and get some air. The town was quiet and had a peaceful element to it that evaded Lincoln County. As he turned to insert the key in the lock he saw one of the girls from the saloon urgently waving her arms to him. Unused adrenaline came awake as he fast made his way to her. “What’s going on?”

  “I get not so much as a how-dy?” she pouted.

  His brow creased and his breathing slowed. “Pardon?”

  “It’s called a greeting,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “You can relax, sheriff. I only wanted you to come join us tonight.” She toyed with the cravat at his neck.

  More than anything, her coyness annoyed him, but to his disbelief, he didn’t want to be rude. And although the woman standing before him was beautiful, his mind wasn’t interested. That revelation in itself caused him to grieve over the changes going on inside him. He couldn’t identify them all, but something was happening. He was at his wits’ end with the way his life was turning out, but he’d stopped fighting whatever it was. With gentleness, he took her hand, which was now inching up his nape, and removed it back to her side.

  Jutting out her red lips as though injured, she said, “I don’t think you understand my meaning.”

  He took a step away from her, before the perfumed and voluptuous body did him in and aided in further life-long regrets. “I assure you. I understand your meaning. I am not interested.”

  “Ooooh!” She clenched her fists. “You’re just like Stephen! You tw
o don’t know a good thing when you see it. What a waste!”

  She ran off and disappeared into the saloon. Jake watched her go, a bit stunned at the outburst. Before he knew it, he began to chuckle at the scenario before belting out complete and utter laughter for a good piece of time. As it died down he realized he’d been holding himself up against the wall of the saloon. A peace washed over him, which made him feel as though something good just might come his way. Ignoring the few curious looks of passersby, no doubt thinking he’d lost it, he swiped at the wetness on his cheek from the hard laughter and wondered when the last time it was that he’d felt free enough to do so. Somberly, he recalled when he’d felt happy enough to laugh. It had been with Cameron, when once upon a time, he’d taken her for a ride to Spillman’s Creek and picked flowers for her.

  He stepped off of the boardwalk and kept walking. Where had that Jake gone? Before Cameron came into his life he was lost, living a life unworthy of even being her friend. He’d changed then, with the intent on being with her. Then he’d blown it with the making of stupid decisions based on self-gratification, sending her into the arms of Andrew. The rest is history. His response was to turn mean and uncaring, dishonoring her more than once, and his loyalty to Andrew he’d been willing to throw away. But Cameron, she was good and pure and lovely. Even more so when she… Jake stumbled. When she’d decided to give herself to God. She never told him she’d done it. She never had to. It was evident, clear as could be. She wasn’t the same Cameron he’d met. It was like she knew her value, her worth, despite her past errors.

  Feeling sick, Jake planted himself right down in the dirt. He looked around and grunted. How fitting being surrounded by filth. Stephen’s sermon of weeks ago replayed in his mind, and something was touching his heart. A foreign mess of things whirling around. Not wanting to resist, he allowed it to go on. He was completely weak and out of sorts, but it wasn’t the worst feeling in the world. It felt like old habits were being destroyed and swept away. Placing his face between his hands, he sat there knowing that whatever was at work wasn’t only just now happening. It’d begun the moment he chose not to take Ivan’s life.

  Hours later Jake eased himself from the ground and shut himself in his room. He had a lot of things to think about.

  *** *** ***

  Two weeks later Stephen entered the jail, prompting Jake to get out from behind the desk. Stephen sported a full beard a cocky smile. “Did you enjoy playing sheriff?” he asked, hanging his trench coat onto the hook behind the door.

  Jake harrumphed. “Playing is the right word. There isn’t much action around these parts.”

  “You’re right about that. But had I told you, you might not have stayed.” He looked Jake up and down. “You seem a bit different.”

  “How so?”

  “You ain’t so mean-looking for one.”

  Jake eased his own coat on, ready to pack it up since Stephen was back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Stephen took his place behind the desk but didn’t sit. He postured himself to look at Jake with great respect. “You proved me right. You are a man of honor and of your word.”

  Uncomfortable, Jake only nodded in response. Before leaving the jail Stephen asked him to stay a few more weeks.

  “I best be getting home. I have a business that needs tending to.”

  Stephen raised a brow. “Oh? I thought you were only an outlaw chaser.”

  “Only when I needed to run away from life. I’m done with all of that. The running and the hunting.” He was sure he saw a smug look wash over the sheriff’s face.

  “Glad to hear it. Safe travels Jake Collins.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jake set Hunter up in the barn. He was finally home and greeted by an early snowfall. Looking around his property he noticed that it appeared different than when he’d last seen it. Before, it seemed dreary, unwelcoming. As he made his way to the front door he took mental inventory on the things he wanted to do to fix the place up. Broken post on the porch, windows too caked with dirt to see out of, a loose step. The desire to build upon what he already had, to make a real home he could plant roots in and possibly even enjoy, pushed him onward. And without the heaviness of guilt weighing him down, he knew this was just one of the good things destined to come his way.

  Not delaying, Jake went to the lumber mill and loaded his wagon bed with a hefty purchase. The Keiser’s lived nearby and he saw Penny outside with a little one clinging to her. Puzzled, he drove slightly out of his way to see how they fared, a gesture he hadn’t exactly been known for in the past. So he wasn’t surprised that Penny hung back at his arrival. Had he really been so intimidating before? Knowing Mary was a widow and Penny too young, heaven forbid, to have a child he inquired, “How’s things going with you and your ma?”

  With her hesitation, he physically attempted to bring a smile to his mouth and tried miserably to create a kind outlook. If anything, it broke her confusion and she giggled at him. He couldn’t help then to form a genuine smile. “Well? Who do you got there on your hip?”

  Just then the babe turned his way and panic shot through him. She ruffled the fuzzy hair on his head and answered needlessly, “This is Drew Jackson.”

  He looked towards the house, wondering if Cameron was inside. He wasn’t prepared to see her. “We’re lookin’ after him.”

  Alarm replaced every other emotion and he jumped down from the wagon. “What’s happened? Where’s Cameron?”

  Penny gave him a look that told him she knew much more than she ought to about their relationship, more than for her own good. “Mr. Collins, she’s just at the church. There’s some preparation going on for the Christmas program. Rather than him getting under foot, my ma offered him to stay here.”

  His posture eased and his mind followed. He took in Drew. Chubby, healthy and happy and looking more like his mother than he’d last seen.

  “Wanna hold him?”

  Penny had him at arm’s length and it seemed rude to reject both of them, especially with Drew eyeing him, vetting him for safety most likely. He could do this.

  Stiffly, he retrieved Drew who promptly batted at his cheek and smiled so wide that Jake could see all of four teeth. A string of slobber escaped and landed on Jake’s arm before Drew buried his face into his coat and slathered it around. Penny laughed. “He’s washing hisself on ya.”

  Instinctively Jake placed a hand to the back of Drew’s head, reveling in its softness as he settled into his chest and stopped squirming. His heart restricted. Penny observed them a moment and stepped forward. “He’s ready for a nap.” She got Drew back in her arms and asked, “Did you need something Mr. Collins?”

  His thoughts were blank a moment before remembering. “I was just passing by and saw you. Wondered if your ma needed anything.”

  She squinted at him curiously. Certainly she knew this was out of his character. “Nah, we’re good. I’ll tell ma you asked though.”

  More subdued than in all his life, Jake headed back home where he stayed for nearly another month, painting, sawing, pounding in nails and putting together his house.

  *** *** ***

  The chill in the air caused Jake to pull up his collar even more, and despite wearing heavy gloves, the coldness bit through to his skin. He’d finished with his home and was now looking for something else to occupy his time. Having been at the Gun Shop only once since his return to check on the finances and sales, he figured heading there seemed to be the next logical thing to do.

  The bell at the door chimed, announcing his presence, and his associate’s bald head popped up from one of the glass display cases he’d been polishing. Setting the rag on the counter he welcomed Jake. “Good afternoon, sir.”

  Rather than head straight to his office as he’d always done before, he inquired, “Things going well here?”

  “We’ve had a few good days.” He stood at attention, waiting for Jake’s departure.

  Jake smiled. “Well then let’s keep doing w
hatever it is you’re doing. I’ve come to do the books. Let me know if you need anything.” And with that he moved to his desk, all the while feeling curious eyes follow every step. It took a moment, but soon he heard the cleaning resume.

  Once he’d wrapped up doing the books Jake readied to make a deposit. He’d done these things before, but they’d always felt like a chore, something he did because it was required of him. Today he experienced something broader than that—purpose. He exited the Gun Shop and crossed the thoroughfare and up the steps to the bank. Amy Swanson stood in line in front of him and when she noticed him her spine went rigid. He shook his head and bit back the temptation to have some fun at her expense. She was too much a nervous soul for it to have any effect other than a bad one. Her sister burst into the bank, out of breath and ran to Amy, bumping him in the process. When she saw it was him she apologized over and over as if he would pull out a gun and shoot her like a no good outlaw. His jaw clenched with impatience. He was not a tyrant, blast it!

  Settling his irritation, he opted to let her off. “It’s no problem, ma’am.”

  Amy gave him an unsure smile and spoke to her sister. “What is all of this rushing about?”

  “Next!” announced the teller. And they all moved up a step. Jake was polite and waiting his turn, but he had to listen to their conversation as he did so.

  “Mrs. Jackson gave me the lead part in the play! Oooh I’m so excited!” She bounded up and down as if she were a child instead of a spinster adult woman.

  Naturally, at the mention of Cameron, Jake’s ears tuned in. Amy commented sullenly, “I’m glad for you. I wonder if there’s anything I can help with.”

  Animated, she shook her head, a bit insensitively Jake thought. “She doesn’t have any speaking parts left. But I do know that she’s looking for people to build up some stage elements.”

 

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