To Capture the Sky (Choices of the Heart, book 2)

by Jennie Marsland

  “I know. Dad says the same.” Ben hesitated, then went on in a rush. “A couple of times last year, Holly came to school with bruises on her face. When Miss Jakeman asked her what happened, she said something about tripping and falling, but it didn’t make much sense. Then one time she was out for a week. She said she was sick, but I think she was lying. I’ve tried to ask her about it, but she just gets mad. Do you think her father would hit her?”

  Trey’s jaw tightened, and a dangerous glow built in his eyes.

  Beth felt just the same. She knew as well as he did that Holly Grier would be better protected legally if she were a horse.

  “I don’t know, Ben,” Trey replied. “Like I said, I don’t know the man, but if you see bruises on Holly again, tell your father. He and I will deal with it.”

  After Ben left, Beth vented her anger. “Trey, I don’t care what the law says. That man is beating his daughter. He should be in jail.”

  “I know, but on what charge? He isn’t breaking the law. Poor kid.” Trey got up, walked into Cloud’s stall with a pitchfork, and stabbed it into the straw. “If I hear of him hitting her again, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

  CHAPTER 12

  After supper, Nathan waited in his room until he heard the men who’d talked up the card game going downstairs. He gave them a few minutes, then followed, slipped into the alley beside the saloon, and stayed there, keeping an eye on the quiet street. Just after dark, the two horses Nathan had seen outside of town appeared. He kept himself in shadow and took careful note of the riders as they headed into the saloon.

  The place was full, but the chatter from inside started to die down as the card game got into full swing. Nathan watched from the side window. There were eight players – the two mining men who’d stayed at the boarding house, and six locals. The two strangers who’d ridden in earlier were nowhere to be seen.

  Nathan slipped inside unnoticed and found a quiet corner in view of the game. One of the players was Lena’s ‘friend’ Hank’s companion, who’d disappeared the night Hank got pinned to the saloon wall. Nathan heard someone call him Bruce. At the moment, he seemed to be having the luck. There were glasses on the card table, but none of the players looked like they’d been drinking much yet.

  Derek Blake, the Wallace Flats telegraph operator, was another of the locals. He played smart poker, unobtrusively winning small pots and losing very little. The stakes hadn’t started to climb yet. One of the mining men was a risk-taker, betting and bluffing on low odds. Bruce was simply reckless, riding his luck.

  After a few minutes, Nathan spotted the two riders from outside town, keeping an eye on the game from the opposite side of the room. Then he noticed a glance pass between one of the mining men at the table and one of the watchers. As the game went on, Nathan realized that Bruce’s luck seemed to depend on who was dealing. The mining men were giving him consistently better hands. At other times he completed hands when the odds were very much against it. The game was rigged.

  The stakes got higher. Derek Blake bowed out, a little bit ahead of the game. One by one, the others were cleaned out. When the last hand had been played, Bruce was left holding seven hundred dollars. Three hundred of that came from the mining men, the rest from the local players.

  With the post-game celebration in full swing, Nathan slipped out and waited in the shadows.

  Bruce staggered out well after midnight. The two men Nathan had seen ride in weren’t far behind.

  After three years as a sheriff, it still amazed him how predictable these things were. The strangers would follow Bruce down the street, pull him into an alley, knock him unconscious and steal his money. Easier and safer than winning the money by cheating. They’d split the profits with their partners who’d set up the game, and they’d each walk away a hundred dollars richer. Not bad for a town this size.

  Nathan didn’t bother to go after them. Bruce didn’t appear to be carrying a gun, and these were con men, not murderers. Instead, Nathan untied the strangers’ horses and hurried them in behind the saloon, then settled on one of Neil’s benches to wait.

  A few minutes later the men returned, without Bruce. They stopped in their tracks in front of the hitching rail. “Mister, did you see anyone walk off with the horses that were tied here?”

  Nathan shifted on the bench to make sure he’d have easy access to his holster if needed. What were the two mining men inside the saloon doing? Chances were they’d be out looking for their friends in a moment. “No, afraid not. Too many other things on my mind.”

  The man who’d spoken looked clean-cut enough to be the gang’s front man, if they needed one. The other wasn’t quite as straight-looking. They clearly didn’t believe Nathan, but it seemed they didn’t want a scene – yet. “Come on,” the one with the face growled to his partner. “We’d better get Donnie and Luke and start looking.”

  Nathan rose, then casually lifted his hand and rested it on the hitching rail, holding his revolver. “Before you go, gentlemen, I think there are some folks inside who’d like to talk to you. Then again, they’d probably be just as glad not to see your faces again as long as they got their money back.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” the tough-looking one snapped.

  Nathan grinned. “Nobody, but this Colt doesn’t care who pulls the trigger. Now I’ve got an idea. If you give me the money you just took from that fool, then go in there and get your friends, you can all ride out of here alive. Otherwise, the odds are pretty good that some of you won’t. I’ll give you five minutes before I go in and tell folks that card game was rigged. I wouldn’t care much for your chances then. And, gentlemen, I’ll be wiring descriptions of the four of you around the territory tomorrow. This party’s over.”

  Nathan waited, hoping they weren’t completely lacking common sense. Both men wore guns. They could kill him, but not without at least one of them getting hurt and certainly not without drawing a lot of attention. It wasn’t worth it. The good-looking one glanced at his companion, then pulled the money from his pocket and handed it over.

  “Right. Your horses are out back. You’ve got five minutes.”

  Three minutes later, the strangers came out of the saloon with their two friends.

  Once the group had ridden off, Nathan stepped inside and climbed up on a chair in the middle of the barroom. When he waved the money in the air, the room gradually got quiet. “Folks, I’ve got cash here that some of you lost this evening. That card game was rigged, but the gentlemen who set it up kind of changed their minds. Since we’ve got no place to lock them up, I decided to let them go, but I gave them something to think about. Your money’s here, and I figure the town can use theirs.”

  By ten o’clock the next morning, everyone in town had heard the story. By noon, Nathan Munroe was officially sheriff of Wallace Flats.

  He got paid in advance.

  CHAPTER 13

  Beth stood at the mercantile’s dry goods counter, flipping through a catalog of dress patterns. She’d never had any trouble choosing a pattern for a dressmaker to sew for her, but choosing one she could make herself was another matter. She’d had a hard enough time stitching plain curtains.

  Wavering between two styles, she looked up when the bell above the door jangled.

  June spoke to the person coming in. “Hello, Holly. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Baker,” a young voice answered.

  Was this Ben’s friend? Beth stole a look at Holly out of the corner of her eye. She seemed aptly named. In her red calico dress, with her pale complexion, black hair, and delicate features, she would have been a good choice for the role of a winter sprite in a Shakespearean play. No wonder Ben was smitten.

  After giving Mrs. Baker her supply order, Holly headed for the dry goods counter. When she saw the smoky-blue muslin Beth had laid on the cutting table, she reached out to touch it, then, with a shy glance at Beth, drew her hand back. “It’s a beautiful color.”

  B
eth smiled and laid a hand on the fabric. “Isn’t it? I’m trying to find a pattern for it – one that isn’t too difficult.”

  Holly looked up and down the shelves. When she spotted a bolt of spring-green cotton, figured with leaves of darker green that matched her eyes, her face lit up. She had a good sense of color, Beth decided. After a moment’s thought she reached for the green fabric, laid it beside the muslin, and unrolled a yard or two.

  “Did I hear Mrs. Baker call you Holly?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “My name’s Beth McShannon. My husband and I are friends with Ben Reeves’ parents. Ben happened to mention your name the other day. Holly, I’ve never made a dress before and I don’t know how I’m going to get this done in time for the spring dance. I wonder if you might know someone who could help me with it, for the price of a dress length of this cotton.”

  Holly hesitated. “I can sew, ma’am, but I’m usually needed at home when I’m not in school. I could probably work a couple of Saturday afternoons between now and the dance, but I can’t promise when. Oh, there’s Pa now.”

  Simon Grier looked surly and mean, but Beth thought that most of all he looked defeated. A fairly big man, he seemed to have shrunk into himself. His hair must have once been black like Holly’s, but it was graying now. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor. It wasn’t difficult to picture him bullying someone smaller and weaker. Would Beth only be making trouble for Holly by trying to help her? “Mr. Grier, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  Holly’s father glanced at Beth out of dull gray eyes before his gaze slid to the floor again. “You’re speaking to me now.”

  With her doubts growing, Beth introduced herself. “I was just telling your daughter that I could use help with some dressmaking. If you could spare Holly for a couple of afternoons, I’d be willing to pay her two dollars, along with a piece of fabric.”

  Simon grunted and gave Beth a suspicious glare, but as she’d hoped, he couldn’t resist the money. Holly would probably have to give that to him, but she’d have the dress.

  Simon shrugged and turned away. “She can suit herself.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Come on, girl, let’s go.”

  “Mrs. Baker’s not finished with our order yet, Pa. It’ll be another fifteen minutes or so,” Holly lied coolly.

  A glance at the front counter showed Beth that Mrs. Baker had just finished putting the Griers’ small order together.

  A faint gleam of mischief lit Holly’s eyes when her father walked out. It seemed life hadn’t taken the fight out of her yet.

  With Simon gone, Beth chose the last pattern she’d looked at from the catalog. “All right, Holly, I guess it’s going to be this dress for me. Find a pattern for yourself, then help me find everything else we’re going to need. We’ve got a couple of dresses to make.”

  * * *

  “Coffee.” Nathan leaned on the bar and looked around the empty saloon while Neil filled a cup. “Lena around?”

  Neil handed Nathan his coffee, turned in the general direction of the back corridor, and shouted. “Lena, man here looking for you!”

  Nathan grinned. “Thanks, Neil. You’re a real helpful man.”

  Lena appeared in the back hallway. Tousled hair, no makeup, a faded cotton print dress cut almost as low as the gowns she wore in the evening – she did a better job of opening Nathan’s eyes than the coffee.

  When she recognized him, she stopped at the entrance to the barroom. “Hello, Nate.”

  “I told you I’d be coming around, Lena. Feel like taking a walk?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No thanks.”

  Nathan took a seat at a nearby table and sipped his coffee while he waited for Lena to make the next move. What was it about her? He’d met plenty of women like her in his travels since the war, women with the same kind of hard-luck stories he supposed she could tell, but he hadn’t been drawn to them like he was to her.

  Lena paused, then stepped into the room.

  Nathan looked into her eyes and felt their impact like a solid punch. “Why not?”

  “That’s my business.”

  Nathan let a grin spread slowly across his face. He suspected Lena was the kind of woman who liked a challenge. So did he. “Lena, have you heard the news?”

  She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she was going to ignore him, but then she crossed the room with a swish to her hips, sat across from him, and propped her chin on one hand. “What news? That you’ve been appointed sheriff? Yeah, I heard. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Nathan’s cross-grained sense of humor prodded him, gave him a sure-fire way to get under Lena’s skin. Hell, he didn’t have much else to do today. “The jail was finished yesterday, and it seems like a shame to keep it empty. I guess you’re going to have to come along for that walk after all. You’re under arrest.”

  She leaned back and laughed at him. Nathan liked her laughter almost as much as he liked the edge to her voice when she spoke.

  “You’re joking.”

  Nathan reached for her wrist and held it just hard enough for her to know he wasn’t going to let go. “Lena, I don’t have handcuffs, and you’d look a sight heading down the street over my shoulder. It’d make a lot more sense for you to just come with me.” Nathan held her gaze, telling her he wasn’t giving her a choice.

  After a few seconds, Lena rolled her eyes and got up. “All right, have your fun, Sheriff. It’s no skin off my nose.”

  Nathan tucked her arm under his. She gave him a vicious look, then put on a smile and marched with him down the street to the jail. John Reeves had made all the iron fittings at the forge, and a crew of volunteers had put the small building together in a matter of hours. It smelled of sawdust and new lumber.

  The main room had a desk at one end, with a window behind it, a woodstove in the middle, and three cells at the other end.

  Lena lost her smile when Nathan walked her into one of them, beat her to the door and locked it with the keys he’d been given yesterday. “Nate, a joke’s a joke, but this has gone far enough. I’ve got things to do today. Let me out of here.”

  Nathan slipped the key into his pocket and grinned at her through the bars. “If I want to, I can keep you here till the circuit judge arrives next month. Soliciting’s illegal, you know.”

  Lena completely lost her sense of humor. “Next month! If I’m not back at the saloon tonight, Neil’s crowd will pull this shack down around your ears and run you out of town.” She stepped forward and rattled the bars as if she could pull them down herself. “Now let me out of here!”

  Nathan sat behind his new desk and put his feet up. “We can talk about bail, but I want to ask you a few questions first.”

  Lena glared at him. “You’ve got no right to ask me anything.”

  Nathan shrugged and started unwrapping packages from a small pile beside the desk. “Fine. I don’t object to company.”

  She threw herself on the bed against the wall and turned her back on him while he stocked his desk with paper and supplies.

  When lunchtime came, Nathan went to the boarding house and brought back food for both of them. He half-expected Lena to throw hers in his face, but she huffed at him, then cleaned her plate. She must have gone without breakfast. Even if she hadn’t, she was smart enough to know that dousing him with beef and barley soup wouldn’t get him to turn her loose.

  With another mutinous look, Lena pushed her empty soup plate under the cell door. “All right, ask your damn questions and make it quick.”

  Nathan picked up the plate and set it on his desk. “Lena, how long have you been in Wallace Flats?”

  “Five years.”

  “Have you ever looked for legitimate work?”

  Lena sat on the bunk, pulled her feet up, and stared out the small window of the cell. After a moment, she swung her feet to the floor again and faced Nathan with her head high, shoulders straight. “Spare me the reforming speech, please. I like what I do. I’m my own boss, the
money isn’t bad, and I’m putting some away. I work when I want to and come and go as I please. If I don’t like a man’s looks, I tell him to get lost. If anyone gives me trouble, Neil handles it, if I don’t handle it myself.”

  Lena fingered the gold pendant lying at the top of her cleavage. It looked genuine and new. “I bought this because I liked it, and I paid for it with my own money. A lot of the women who cross the street when they see me can’t spend a nickel at the store or walk from one end of town to the other without asking their husbands. I decided a long time ago that I’d never be a slave to any man. If you’re going to make life here difficult for me, I’ll be moving on.”

  Nathan knew she meant it. He’d better not push her too hard. “Tell me something else, Lena. When you were a kid, what did you dream of being?”

  Lena snorted. “I sure didn’t dream about a husband and brats and a house with a white picket fence. My parents cured me of that.”

  “So, what was it, then?”

  Silence. Nathan grinned, picked up his keys and dangled them from a finger. “Lena, do you want out of here today or not?”

  She kicked off a shoe and sent it skittering across the cell floor. “Oh, go to hell, Nate. I wanted to be a teacher. I finished school before I left home. Did all right, too.” Lena retrieved her shoe and jammed her foot into it. “As if any mother would send her kid to school if I was the teacher.”

  Nathan decided he’d pushed his luck far enough for today. She had a point about her clients pulling the jail down if he kept her here. He unlocked the cell door and looked Lena in the eye before he opened it. “I’m going to let you out without bail, but you aren’t to leave town. If you do, you’ll find yourself back in here waiting for the judge.” He took her arm as she brushed by him. “And I’m going to come around once in a while for a walk or a chat. There’s no law against you having a friend.”