Thea nodded.
“But I want to bake him some cake first,” Bonnie went on.
“That’s very nice.”
Bonnie only nodded. If she tried to speak again, she might find herself wailing instead.
The door to Jenny’s cabin opened, and Jenny and Aria appeared, the woman helping the little one to stand.
Aria gurgled at the sight of her mother and took a couple of excited steps forward. She wobbled some, but Jenny held her arms above her head, helping her to take another couple of steps.
“Ma!” Aria called. “Ma!”
Thea laughed. “Look at you walking so well!”
“It’s all she has wanted to do since you left,” Jenny called across the yard.
Bonnie smiled to herself, but the moment of joy came with a nearly unbearable pain. Jenny and Thea were two of the luckiest women in the world. They had loving, committed husbands and beautiful, healthy children.
Bonnie had never taken time to imagine her life with a growing family, but as she stood there watching Thea sweep her little girl into her arms, it was hard not to. There were so many directions her life with Steve could go in. They could have one baby. Five babies.
They could live in their cabin till they died, or, like he’d talked about, move to the valley and start a farm. They could press further West, all the way to California. They could return east, where she could work in another shop.
Or he could be found guilty of murder and be sentenced to years behind bars or the hangman’s noose.
The possibilities were endless. It was exactly that which made the future so terrifying.
26
26. Steve
Chapter twenty-six
Steve sat on the narrow cot and stared at the sky on the other side of the cell’s bars. He’d come to the West looking for adventure and excitement. Somehow, he’d ended up in a jail cell.
It had all happened so fast he still could hardly make sense of it. He should have been home in Whiteridge, working in the mine and coming home to Bonnie. Looking forward to their wedding day. Making plans for the rest of their life together.
He’d only spent a day, a night, and a morning in the cell, and already he thought he might go insane. There was a second cell in the jail behind the sheriff’s office, and Steve took a little comfort in its emptiness. At least he wasn’t in the presence of any real criminals. At least he got some time alone to run things over in his head and pray.
He’d done a lot of the latter since Sheriff Ross escorted him into the cell and closed its door. Now, for maybe the hundredth time, Steve clasped his hands and bowed his head.
“Lord,” he whispered, “Please take care of Bonnie. I know this is hard on her. I need her...” Steve choked up, tears pressing against his closed eyelids. “I need her to be happy. She deserves that much.” He paused, taking in a short breath. “Whatever your plan is, God, I embrace it. I’m turning this all over to you.”
Steve kept his eyes closed for a long time, letting his heart pour into the prayer. He’d already asked God to get him out of the cell; to reveal Hawkins’ real killer; to take him back home to Bonnie. By now, God had heard every version of everything that was in Steve’s heart.
Still, praying made Steve feel better. Other than read Bonnie’s book of poetry and stare out the window, there wasn’t much else to do.
The door leading to the office opened, and the deputy came in. He was older than the sheriff, and Steve had only heard someone call him ‘deputy’ maybe once. Mostly, the people in the area called him Domino.
“How you holding up in here?” Domino asked.
Steve’s jaw tightened. He didn’t know if the deputy really cared or if he was asking just to ask. “About as well as I can be expected to.”
“You have a visitor.”
Steve sprung to his feet as Bonnie entered behind the deputy. She held a basket, and her face was pale.
“I’ll be right here watching,” Domino said, propping the door open.
“What?” Bonnie cried. “We do not get any privacy?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you might be looking to slip him a weapon of some sort,” Domino answered, taking a chair from the office and settling down where he could look through the doorway.
Bonnie’s jaw ticked. “You already searched my basket.”
“You could be hiding it elsewhere.”
She inhaled sharply, looking like she was about to let out a string of curses.
“Bonnie,” Steve cautioned.
Her gaze jumped to him, and a second later she rushed across the short space and landed in front of the bar cells. She set the basket on the floor, and she and Steve clasped fingers through the bars. Over her shoulder, Steve saw Domino watching closely.
“How are you?” Bonnie asked.
“I’m fine. Just fine.”
Her gaze darted around his cell, and she frowned. “I was hoping they would not be keeping you in an actual... jail.”
“Don’t you worry about that. The bed is comfy, and I’m fine here.”
Steve was lying, but he had no qualms about it. He was where he was, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. At the least, he could comfort Bonnie.
“Were you cold last night?” she asked.
“No.”
Another lie.
“Oh, Steve,” she whispered, her eyes becoming wet.
“Hush, now. You remember what Sheriff Ross said. I’ll get a fair trial.”
“Next week?”
Steve nodded. “Exactly a week from today.”
“Everyone in Whiteridge is so mad. People keep saying that they will come down here and testify for you.”
Steve’s smile was genuine. It was good to know he had friends back home.
“And Neil is coming to visit you tomorrow,” Bonnie said. “He wanted to come with me today, but he couldn’t get off from the mine.”
“Good. That will be real nice.”
“I baked you some pound cake.” Bonnie picked up her basket and pulled back the cloth to reveal the cake there. Its sweet smell drifted through the cell’s bars and made Steve’s mouth water.
“That smells wonderful. Thank you.”
“I’m sure it’s better than what they are feeding you here.”
“The meals are good. Don’t worry about that.”
At least he was telling the truth there. The sheriff brought Steve plates from his own home. Whatever his wife made for their meals, she made for Steve as well.
Bonnie made a move to hand the cake to Steve, then realized it could not fit through the bars, and set it back in the basket. She cast a look over at the deputy, who spoke up.
“You can leave it with me, and I’ll put it in there after you go.”
“Lovely,” Bonnie answered tartly.
“Bonnie,” Steve murmured, surprised at her sass. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
Bonnie’s shoulders sagged. “Well, what can you expect from me? It’s not right that you’re here. You know that.”
Steve stroked her hand. “I know.”
“Thea and I went to the shed, to see if we could find any more clues,” Bonnie whispered.
“And?”
Sheriff Ross had already searched around the shed. Steve knew it was unlikely that he’d overlooked any evidence there.
“We didn’t find anything,” Bonnie said, “but don’t worry. I’m not giving up.”
“I know.” Steve forced a smile. What would become of Bonnie if the jury didn’t rule in his favor? Steve had nothing of real value to leave her.
“Bonnie...” He dipped his head, shame filling him. “I’m sorry you came out here looking for a good life, only to have it all turn into... into this.”
“Oh, Steve. No. Don’t say that.”
“But look at me, Bonnie. I’m no good to you now.”
“This isn’t your fault,” she said fiercely.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m not talking about fault here. I’m talking abou
t what you deserve.” Steve paused, the next words resting on the tip of his tongue.
If I’m found guilty...
Then what? What did he expect her to do? He had so little. Bonnie returning to Baltimore would be her best choice. Unless she found a husband in the West.
Pain surged through Steve at the thought of her with anyone else but him, and he ground his teeth together.
“Steve,” Bonnie whispered. “We will get you out of here.”
Her hands were cold, and he did his best to warm them. But they remained ice cold in his.
“I still have faith,” he told her, not sure whether that was the truth or not.
Bonnie sniffled. “Good. Hold onto that. Please.”
“I will. Your pound cake will help me.”
She laughed sadly. “How is that?”
“It will remind me of the good in the world. It will remind me of you.”
“Good.” Bonnie blinked back her tears. “I wish I had more of a report from Whiteridge.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t expect you to have much, anyway. Nothing of interest ever happens there.”
“That is what I like about it. It’s the quiet life.”
“That’s right.” Steve squeezed her hand. “It is.”
“I went to the lookout last night and watched the sunset.”
Steve’s heart melted. “I hoped you would. I thought of you there when the sun was going down. What did it look like?”
“Orange. With some reds. Streaks that were all different shades. Red like those poppies that look like upside-down bells. A bit of a golden honey at the bottom.”
“That sounds nice.”
Bonnie sighed, and as she did a shudder went through her. “Margaret Hawkins is moving to Pathways. She’s taking a job as a housekeeper and renting that cabin out.”
“Good,” Steve said, and he genuinely meant it. At least some good was going to come out of all this. With Hawkins dead, Margaret could move on with her life.
He’d wondered about Hawkins death till his head hurt, thinking back to days at the mine and nights in town, trying to locate any memories that might give him a clue as to who had shot the man. In the end, he’d gotten nowhere.
Hawkins had been robbed of the few coins in his pocket. For all Steve knew, the killer could have been a vagabond passing through.
And yet no such person had been in town that day or night. There had been a couple men staying at the hotel, but they’d all been inside listening to the music when Hawkins was killed. Surely, if there had been someone else lurking around Whiteridge, someone would have noticed.
“It must have been someone he knew,” Steve murmured.
“What’s that?” Bonnie asked.
He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but now that he had, he continued on with the thought. “Sheriff Ross thought it was the bandits who did Hawkins in.”
“Well, now he thinks it was you,” Bonnie spat.
“Right... but, originally, he thought it was the bandits. But I just don’t see that.”
“What do you think?”
“Hawkins wasn’t a popular man. I think someone he knew killed him and made it look like robbery was the motive.”
Bonnie stared at him. “Have you told the sheriff about this?”
“I have, but... he says there are no other leads. And there’s the gun, of course.”
“Someone could have gotten rid of the gun after they shot Mr. Hawkins,” Bonnie said, “once they realized it was such an obvious piece of evidence.”
Steve nodded, and they fell into silence, mulling over that information.
The rest of the visit passed with small talk, the time flying by too fast. Bonnie couldn’t stay long, for she had to get back to Whiteridge before dark. Steve wouldn’t have her riding around by herself after sunset. Plus, the deputy was getting antsy and had made a comment about them needing to bring the visit to an end.
“Thank you for coming,” Steve told her.
“I will be back as soon as I can,” she promised. “And, remember. Neil will be here tomorrow.”
“I remember. Bonnie?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Bonnie’s eyes shimmered. “I love you, too.”
27
27. Bonnie
Chapter twenty-seven
During the ride back to Whiteridge, Bonnie ran through every single person she knew in the town. It wasn’t many. She’d spent most of her time at the cabin, and, other than the women she’d become friends with and their families, had met few people.
As she passed Neil’s house, she heard him shout her name. She’d returned the horse she’d borrowed to the Briggs’, and now walked back to her cabin on foot.
“Bonnie,” Neil said, breathless as he jogged up to her. She could just see his face in the fading light. “How is he?”
“He is...” Bonnie twisted her fingers together. “As well as can be expected. I told him you will be visiting tomorrow, and he is looking forward to it.”
“That’s good. Blast, if only... Sorry.” Neil cleared his throat. “My apologies. I don’t usually curse in front of ladies.”
“It is a difficult time.” Bonnie paused. “Neil, Steve really feels that Mr. Hawkins was killed by someone who knew him.”
Neil stood straighter. “Why is that?”
“Whenever travelers come through here, they stay in the hotel, correct?”
“Unless it’s warm enough to sleep outside.”
“And it has not been,” Bonnie said.
“Right.”
“So all the town’s visitors at the time of Mr. Hawkins’ death were inside the hotel,” Bonnie said. “According to Wakefield.”
“Yes,” Neil agreed slowly. “And that’s why Steve thinks whoever did Hawkins in lives here. It makes sense. Does the sheriff know about this?”
Bonnie sighed. “My impression is that that information does not narrow the suspects down for him.”
“It’s like he ain’t even trying!” Neil angrily shouted. “He’s just gonna let Steve hang for a crime he didn’t commit, just to have this all over with.”
Bonnie inhaled deeply and decided to take a page from Steve’s book and give the sheriff the benefit of the doubt. “He is doing his best,” she said. “We have to admit, it does look bad for Steve.”
“Right,” Neil mumbled. “Listen, Bonnie. I’m going to do some snooping around. See if I can’t unearth anything else that might be helpful. People who had it in for Hawkins and the like.”
“Be careful.”
“I will. Can I walk you home?” he asked.
“Um... no, thank you. I will be fine.”
“All right. Have a good night. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Neil.”
She watched as he went back across his yard, and then turned and headed in the direction she’d come from. Sharing the news of Steve’s suspicion with Neil had made her even more eager to get to the bottom of things. There was someone she needed to speak with, and it could not wait until the next day.
“Who is it?” Margaret called when Bonnie knocked on her cabin door.
“Bonnie.”
There was a quiet moment, and then the front door opened.
“Bonnie,” Margaret said, surprised, “come in.”
“Thank you.”
Bonnie entered, sweeping her gaze around the room. The furniture was simple, just like in Bonnie’s cabin, and the cook stove’s door was open to let the heat escape. All signs of Mr. Hawkins had been erased. No boots by the door. No hat on a nail. It was as if he had never existed.
“Have a seat,” Margaret said, gesturing at the table.
Bonnie settled into a chair. “Thank you.”
“Did you go to Shallow Springs?” Margaret sat across from Bonnie and set her hands on the table, fingers laced together. “How... how is he?”
She seemed hesitant to ask.
“He is... decent. Thank you.” Bonnie licked her lips.
In addition to it being a cold night, it was also a dry one. “Margaret, I came to ask you a few questions, if I may.”
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