When Sarah let her in, Daisy yanked off her gloves and grabbed a comb. “I’m here to get you ready for your wedding. What time’s the ceremony? My mother wants to come.”
“I’ve already fixed my hair.”
Daisy gazed at her friends blonde ringlets, meticulously arranged. “So you have. I’ll press your dress.”
“I already pressed my dress.”
“Shine your shoes?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “No.”
“When’s the ceremony?
“I don’t know. Sam, I mean Sidney, said he has to discuss something with you first. He’s speaking with Iris now. We can’t get married until Judge Glover gets his other duties out of the way.”
The man she loved was no longer her fiancé. Now he was an ‘other duty.’ Daisy slumped onto a chair. “Yes, Iris is a witness to the crime of robbery, and I’m witness to the fraud. I’m sure the judge will need to speak with me before he gives a verdict.”
“I wish you wouldn’t be so sad. I thought you really loved the mar—er, Mr. Richards. You looked so happy. Now you look awful.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” She stood and jutted her chin. “I best be going to the marshal’s office, then.” She ignored the silly gloves that lay on the table and left. Who the heck wanted to wear gloves in ninety-degree weather? From that point on, Daisy swore she’d do only what she wanted, and she didn’t want to wear gloves.
On the way to the marshal’s office she yanked off her bonnet and threw it in the street. She’d never liked hats—they served no purpose whatsoever. Men wore hats to protect them from the elements. Women wore silly concoctions that just sat on top of their heads and looked stupid. No hats. No Gloves. Maybe she’d try a pair of Levi Strauss’s waist overalls—Nellie Stephens wore them. They made a lot more sense than wearing long skirts that made chasing bandits nearly impossible.
She entered the marshal’s office and stood before the judge. “I understand you wish to speak with me.”
Judge Glover leaned back and studied her. “The wedding ceremony’s in an hour.”
“Sarah’s nearly ready now. Where’s Marshal Adler?”
“He’ll be back. He’s securing Mike Flynn and the Rankin brothers on a wagon we hired to take them to Boise City.”
“And the other prisoners?”
“What other prisoners?”
He was going to make her say it, and she would, too. She’d say his name without wavering or crying. She took a deep breath. “Mr. Richards and Mr. Kunkle.”
“I’ll remind you that they’re still sworn law officers of Oreana.”
“I fired them.”
“Your dad’s the mayor, not you.”
“I hired them, I can fire them.”
“So I take it you don’t plan to marry Cole today.”
“Certainly not. Or any day. And if that’s all you have to say to me, I’m leaving.”
“Daisy,” she heard him call, but she didn’t slow down a minute. She would go to…where?
Suddenly, she didn’t know what she wanted or where she could go. Sarah was busy with her wedding. Her parents’ house no longer felt like hers. She had no job and no room like her sister had. No exciting adventures waited for her, like Honey Beaulieu. And she had no fiancé, and never would.
Maybe she could stay with Iris until she found a job and a place of her own. She changed directions for home, hoping to find her sister there. Instead, Sidney Adler intercepted her.
“I’ve been instructed by Judge Glover to arrest you.”
“Oh, pooh, I haven’t done anything wrong—at least not anything you can get arrested for.”
Mr. Adler shrugged. “You can come peaceably, or I can haul you in.”
Daisy drew back. “Why, on whatever charge?”
“You’ll have to ask the judge about that. I just do as I’m told by the officer of the court.” He pressed his hand against her back, urging her on. “I don’t want to have to handcuff you, Miss Daisy, but I will if I have to.”
She didn’t doubt his sincerity in the least. “I’ll go, but I can’t imagine why. At least you’ve sent the prisoners to Boise City.” And she wouldn’t have to look at Cole.
Cole Richards. She liked that name. Too bad he didn’t tell his real name to start with. But, of course, he was on the lam, and she was the first gullible person he found to delude.
Mr. Adler took her to the jailhouse and urged her into the cell. When he locked it, it sounded louder and more final than any other sound she’d ever heard. “This is surely a mistake!”
But Sidney and the judge had gone. She sagged to the cot, noticing it had fresh blankets—her own quilt, in fact. In the corner, a table held her comb and toiletries, and beside the table sat her trunk of clothes. The cell was so crowded, she hardly had room to stand. Then she noticed that the trunks she and her mother had packed with household goods were stacked outside the cell against the wall where the marshal had made love to her . . . She stifled the bittersweet memory. But he hadn’t been who she thought she was. She had given herself to a criminal, several times.
She wanted to weep, but she’d done enough of that. But why was she here?
A man cleared his throat, and, for the first time, she noticed that man in the next cell.
“Daisy, I’m sorry.”
She wouldn’t—couldn’t—speak to him. She remained motionless, sitting on the cot, staring at that awful, wonderful wall.
“I understand that you’re hurt. Anyone would be, and I’m truly sorry about all that, but Daisy, I do love you, and I want you to be my wife if you’ll have me.”
Tears welled in her eyes no matter how hard she fought them. She held back a sob burning in her throat. But she didn’t answer him. Not to say ‘no,’ and never to say ‘yes.’ Let him hurt, she thought. Let him wonder. But the true reason she didn’t say anything was because her throat was so tight with dammed up sobs, she could barely breathe.
After a few minutes, she heard the cot creak. She hoped he had given up and would leave her alone. But then, she hoped not.
Several minutes passed, maybe an hour. Still, she sat motionless, her muscles aching. Not only would she miss her own wedding, she’d miss her best friend’s, too. Finally, the judge and Mr. Adler returned.
The judge walked up to Daisy’s cell and looked between the bars. “Have you settled everything, Miss Gardner?”
“There’s nothing to settle.”
“Good. There’s a whole passel of people out there waiting to see you get married.”
“They’ll be waiting a goodly long time then.”
“I see.” He backed away. “Sid, put the prisoner from the A Cell into the B Cell.”
Daisy sprang to her feet. “You can’t do that!”
“And make sure the prisoner in B Cell doesn’t escape. Bring your handcuffs.”
Mr. Adler—oh, she might as well think of him as Sidney—unlocked the other cell and cuffed the prisoner’s right wrist, then opened her cell. She had an overwhelming urge to make a run for it, but knew it was a silly notion. Then, before she realized what was happening, Sidney pulled her to her feet, slapped the cuff on her left wrist, exited, and locked the cell.
The judge peered through the bars and Daisy glared back at him.
“It’s dinnertime, Miss Gardner. Your mother gets downright snippy if you’re late for dinner, you know. Sid and I’ll be back in an hour.” He backed away from the bars. “Sid, put those jail keys in your pocket.” He turned back to Daisy. “Miss Howard will be along shortly with your noon meal.”
“You can’t leave!” She started to jump up, but the cuff held her back. “Not cuffed to him! I—I haven’t even been charged with a crime.” But her protests were in vain—the two men left.
She sighed and closed her eyes. The man who’d betrayed her was now chained to her. They touched, even though she tried to scoot away from him. But that did little good since he was forced to scoot right along with her. She held still, trying with all her w
ill to ignore the heat of his body, and angry that he affected her so.
But then she became even angrier. “I suppose you orchestrated this whole charade like you did before.”
“No.”
That’s all he could say? One word? “You’re not who you said you were.”
“No.”
“You’re not a lawman.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You probably thought it was terribly funny making such of fool out of me.”
“Never.”
“What excuse could you possibly have to justify robbing a bank?”
“None.”
That was it, then. She’d said her piece and had given the scoundrel a chance to say his. She pursed her lips and turned away.
Cole heard the door open, and then he saw Sarah carrying a picnic basket.
“I’m instructed to pass this through the bars,” she said, a worried smile on her face.
He nudged Daisy. “Stand up with me, darlin’. I have to take our food.”
She didn’t move.
“Daisy, quit your pouting and eat your dinner!”
“I don’t pout,” Daisy whined. She stood, jerking his wrist.
“Smells delicious,” he said.
“It’s beef stew.” Sarah handed him the jar, then two bowls and two spoons. “You can’t have a knife—judge’s orders—so I cut the meat into smaller bits for you.”
Daisy smiled—a forced one, Cole thought. “By now, you must be Mrs. Sidney Adler. Congratulations, and my regrets that I missed the ceremony.”
“You haven’t missed it—I’m still Sarah Howard. The judge says he can’t marry us until he takes care of the rest of his duties, so I’d appreciate it if you’d make the rest of his duties a little easier.” She backed away. “I have to go now. Sidney said he had a surprise for me.”
After she left, Cole said, “You hold the bowl and I’ll pour the stew in it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I am.” And the stewed smelled damned inviting. He unscrewed the lid. “If you’re not eating, it’ll be easier for me to eat out of the jar.”
“Suit yourself.” She plopped down on the cot, pulling him down with her. He nearly spilled stew all over the two of them.
A nervous stomach had never been one of Cole’s problems, and he ate more than half the contents before he placed the jar on the floor beside the cot. At least eating gave him something to do, when all he could think of was pushing Daisy down on the cot and kissing her senseless.
Finally, the judge and Adler returned, bringing Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, Iris, Sarah, Jonas and Mrs. Howard, and Bosco with them. Thomas, Etta, and Callie stood at the back. The marshal’s office fairly bulged with people. And then came Forrest with Winky bouncing behind, barking excitedly.
The judge held up his hand and the dog stopped barking. Cole didn’t know how he did that, but he wished a few other people knew that trick.
“Have you resolved your problems?”
“No, sir,” Cole replied.
“Of course we have.” Daisy said. “He’s a criminal. I’m a spinster. We have no problem. Now let me out of here. You have no charge against me, and you’re holding me against my will.”
“The charge is the refusal to listen to the evidence.”
“I have not refused to listen to any evidence. I know the facts.”
Judge Glover chuckled. “Case in point.” He cleared his throat. “The first witness is Mr. Bosco Kunkle. Please step forward.” Bosco moved to the judge’s side. “Mr. Mayor, please swear in the witness.”
Daisy’s father stepped in front of Bosco and held out a Bible. “Place your right hand on the Bible and swear to tell the truth.”
After Bosco was sworn in, the judge said, “Bosco, tell me what happened on May 19, 1885 in Silver City, Idaho.”
“Well, we was in an awful fix what with the miners ruining the creek that runs through Cole’s place. The cows was thirsting something terrible and we barely had enough water for the garden. Cole said the miners wasn’t finding any color and that if the bank hadn’t grub-staked ‘em, they’d go away. So I get this idea in my head to take the Rankin’s money from the bank myself so’s they couldn’t dig up Sinker Creek anymore. So I did. But the lady banker, Miss Iris, there, wouldn’t give me their money. Said the bank turned ‘em down.
“Then Cole, why, he come a’running in, hollering for me to get the hell outta there, and she shot him, slicker’n a whistle.” He shook his head. “She’s one helluva shot—er, pardon my French, ladies. Anyway, I hauled him out and set him on his horse. I figgered he was dying on me, so I brung him here for a doctor. Well, they all thought Cole was the new marshal, and I wasn’t about to say otherwise ‘cause he needed a doctor bad—lost a lot of blood, you know. And that’s about it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kunkle. The next witness is Miss Iris Gardner. Swear her in, Mr. Mayor.” She swore to tell the truth, then the judge said, “Miss Iris, same question. Tell me what happened on May 19, 1885 in Silver City, Idaho.”
“I was working on my accounts when Mr. Kunkle came in and asked for the money that the bank was planning to give the Rankin brothers. I informed him that the bank had turned down their loan. About that time, Mr. Richards ran in and told Mr. Kunkle to get out, fast. He yelled, and it scared me. So I shot at him.”
“Did you report the holdup to the law?”
“No. They didn’t get anything, and it was obviously a one-time endeavor. Mr. Kunkle only asked for the money that would be given to the Rankin brothers—not any other.”
“What about the coin you gave your sister?”
“The man I shot,” she pointed to Cole, “dropped it. I thought Daisy would like it for a souvenir.”
“And you didn’t press charges,” he reiterated.
“No, Your Honor.”
“Now I call Mr. Cyrus Gardner, Mayor of Oreana. Put your hand on the Bible, Cyrus, and swear to tell the truth.” Cyrus did, and the judge asked, “At any time, did you ask Mr. Richards his name?”
“No, I never did.”
“Did anyone else?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“When you swore him in, did you use the name ‘Sidney Adler’?”
“No, I just asked him to swear on the Bible that he’d uphold and enforce the law, which he did swear to and which he has done.”
“And how would you rate his performance as marshal of Oreana?”
“We’ve been very pleased. From the bank robbery to the widows’ catfight, he’s shown common sense and a willingness to put his life on the line.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor. I now call Miss Daisy Gardner. Cyrus, er, Mr. Mayor, swear her in.”
Cole stood along with Daisy as she placed her right hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth.
“Now,” the judge continued, “tell us when Mr. Richards said he was Sidney Adler.”
Daisy opened her mouth, then shut it. She looked around the room, everywhere but at Cole. She licked her lips, then opened and shut her mouth again.
“Well, Miss Gardner?”
“I, uh, don’t recall him ever telling me his name.”
“Thank you, Miss Gardner.” He turned and addressed the roomful of people. “The verdict of Miss Daisy Gardner is Guilty As Charged. The court is dismissed. We’ll meet again at five o’clock for the sentencing.”
Daisy sucked in her breath. Cole wondered what the hell the judge was up to. Everyone knew there was no such crime as not listening to reason. Hell, most people didn’t listen to reason at one time or another. But he hoped against all hope that she did listen this time.
“Do you want to sit or stand,” he asked her.
“Stand, for now,” she said, looking quite bewildered.
“So why did you think you were guilty of a crime when all you did was try to keep Bosco from holding up the bank?”
He nearly melted with relief at the first caring words she’d uttered in a day. “Because it was my fault that Bosco
took that crazy notion in the first place. He’s not too smart sometimes. Best-hearted man you’ll ever know, but not always real bright.”
“So you take care of him.”
Cole nodded. “So to speak. He takes care of me, too. We’ve been friends since I signed on with the Rocking JW when I was thirteen. He’s ten years older, and he took me under his wing—showed me how to rope and everything else I know about cattle. He’s been with me ever since.”
“I see. What about your true love, Etta?”
He raised his cuffed right hand, bringing her left hand with it, and kissed each of her fingers. “You’re my true love. Etta was a childhood sweetheart. I thought I was in love with her, but that was before I knew what love was all about. Thomas got her with child, and he married her the day I was supposed to marry her. I was angry.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, was. Not anymore. They truly are in love and have a good marriage, even though I nearly wrecked it by crippling him.”
“You crippled your brother?”
“Might as well say that. I dared him to get on a hellbitch that I knew he couldn’t ride. She throwed him on the third buck. He landed against the fence and shattered his knee. That’s why I’m obligated to support him and his family.”
“He didn’t look crippled to me. I saw him at the picnic.”
“He gets around, but you can’t do a man’s work with a stiff leg.”
“I think he can do a lot more than you give him credit for, and I also think he wants to be his own man. You need to let him live his life the way he wants to. Does he enjoy ranching?”
“No. He worked in the mines until they shut down, then he was studying to be a lawyer, of all things. He couldn’t afford to go back to school after he was married, though.”
They fell silent. She may hate him forever, but he’d been honest with her—finally. He only hoped she’d at least consider his suit. They stood there several minutes, then Daisy indicated she’d like to sit. No sooner did they get settled, but what she wanted to stand up again.
“What’s wrong, Daisy?”
“I, uh, need to use the privy.”
Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) Page 28