He looked around the table, studying each of them in turn. Deborah kept her hands folded in her lap, as a lady should. She tilted her chin up when the judge’s gaze landed on her.
He went back to shuffling the papers. “I have to say that this is confusing, to say the least. Let me see if I have this straight. The bank’s money was converted to gold and stored in jars of orange marmalade?”
Fritz spoke, his voice clear and strong. “Yes, sir.”
“Craziest thing I’ve ever heard. However, if the gold never left the bank, I suppose no bank robbery occurred.”
Fritz kept his face smooth, but Deborah, who knew her brother so well, saw the relief. Lydia could not contain her elation and grabbed Fritz’s hand and let out a small squeal, which the judge squelched with one look.
“However, that does not excuse the behavior of all of you gathered here. A jailbreak occurred, resulting in considerable damage that you are responsible for.”
Fritz again spoke. “Yes, sir. We take full responsibility and will reimburse the town. As a matter of fact, we will make improvements to the jail, modernize it.”
Chance shot Deborah’s brother a look. Deborah bit her lip, hoping Chance would not speak, but he did. “Sorry, Judge Davis, may I interrupt?
The judge nodded his assent.
“I wish to clarify exactly what my brother-in-law means by ‘we.’” Chance’s gaze locked with Fritz’s.
Deborah sighed. Would they never learn to get along?
Fritz tilted his head. “We, of course, means the Brokken family.”
“Since Deborah is no longer a Brokken, that does not include her.” Chance dropped his gaze to the child who continued to sleep in his arms.
“We can discuss the details later,” Fritz said, with obvious irritation.
A muscle in Chance’s jaw twitched, but he did not reply.
The judge gave a nod to Fritz. “If that is resolved, I will continue. Even if you make reparations, you still broke out of jail, and these two young ladies...” The judge consulted one of the papers in front of him. “Lydia Walsh and Deborah Brokken...”
Chance’s head snapped up. “Deborah Hale.”
The judge glared at him before he continued. “These two young ladies aided in the jailbreak.” He placed the papers in front of him and straightened them. “Again, there were extenuating circumstances. Curt and Karl Brokken were being held in a Mexican prison?”
Fritz nodded. “Yes, sir.” Her brother was immaculately dressed, his manner deferential and yet not subservient.
For what good it did him. The judge nailed him with a stare. “Why not inform the sheriff? She would have taken the necessary steps to have freed these men.”
Sheriff Vic joined the judge in glaring at Fritz although she did not speak.
“Again, I will take full responsibility for that.” Fritz’s eyes remained serious.
Chance raised his head to frown at him. Deborah knew what her husband thought. It was Fritz’s responsibility, and her brother made it sound as if he was magnanimous in accepting it.
Fritz shot Chance a look before turning back to the judge. “As you undoubtedly heard, Emperor Maximilian was executed in June of this year. I felt, perhaps wrongly, that the state of Texas would not want to be involved in such a volatile situation. I deeply regret I did not explore all options. However, time was of the essence.”
The judge studied him for many long seconds and shook his head. “You’re a well-spoken young man but I fear you have behaved foolishly, criminally, in fact. However, we have one last extenuating circumstance—you, Mr. Caper, and Mr. Hale contributed to...”
Chance held up a hand.
The judge sighed deeply and tilted his head. “Yes, Mr. Hale?”
“You are forgetting Miss Brokken... I mean, my wife, Mrs. Chance Hale.”
The judge shook his head, perused the papers again, and nodded. “I see she also contributed to saving the town from further damage.” He gave her a nod, and Chance gave her a tight-lipped smile.
Sheriff Vic spoke for the first time. “Yes, they all behaved gallantly. However, if I had not been out chasing them, with most of the men of the town as my posse, perhaps we would have prevented this before it happened. And, but for the Brokkens, would we be in this situation?”
Fritz and Deborah exchanged a look. Sheriff Vic, for all intents and purposes, seemed bent on jailing at least one of them.
The judge shook his head slowly. “The burning of the town was unfortunate, but I believe you underestimate the Andrews Gang. They have burned entire towns, killed dozens, carried off—” He waved a hand as if reconsidering what he was about to say before continuing. “There’s no way of knowing what the outcome would have been. These three young men, whom I understand were all sharpshooters during the War, managed to kill more members of the Andrews Gang than any Texas lawmen in the past five years—not that I don’t have the greatest respect for those who serve the great state of Texas.”
Sheriff Vic bowed her head in acquiesce.
“And while it was the gold belonging to the Brokkens that the gang sought, I can scarcely blame them for the actions of these outlaws.” The judge drummed his fingers on the table and again sighed heavily, appearing perplexed.
“I agree with you, Judge. However, I no longer have a jail, two buildings burned completely to the ground, and others were heavily damaged.” The sheriff’s glare landed squarely on Fritz.
Fritz moved uneasily in his seat. “The Brokkens, of course, will extend credit to those impacted...”
“Or perhaps more,” Deborah said. “We are willing to help the town in whatever way we can.”
Sheriff Vic gave her an appreciative nod.
The judge rapped a knuckle to bring attention back to him. “The sticking point is the jailbreak. I cannot condone such activity by simply dismissing it.” Each word he spoke was articulated, neatly separated, so there could be no mistaking his intention.
His gaze traveled around the room as if he assessed them individually. “The sheriff has recommended a punishment. She suggests all five of you spend a year in making amends to this community, and that is in addition to paying for all damages you have incurred. I tend to agree with her recommendation. I see no need why we must take this to trial.”
Deborah reached a hand blindly to Chance, holding to his sleeve since his arms were still holding Sally Jane.
The judge finally seemed satisfied and nodded. “For one full year, you are to serve this town and community, in any way the sheriff feels necessary. In addition, full reparations must be made for all damages by March fifteenth of next year. If Sheriff English has nothing more to add, you are dismissed.”
He banged his gavel again although Deborah no longer cared if he damaged the wood. No one would be going to prison. She and Lydia found each other and hugged. The men shook hands with the judge, the sheriff, and each other, except for Chance, who still held the sleeping Sally Jane.
Chapter Twelve
Chance hoped Sally would sleep when they arrived home, but her long nap in his arms had her squirming to get down as soon as they walked in the door. He should have been happy, with the light sentence imposed by the judge, but it was still a stain, a blemish on his name.
In addition, obstacles stood in his way before he achieved complete happiness. Somehow, someway, from the moment he’d pulled Sally’s hand away from Miss Edna, she’d become his daughter. Deborah said they’d find her mother and that frightened Chance. He’d not rest easy until the mother was found and questioned.
Deborah took Sally’s hand, against her wishes, and led her out back, to the outhouse. Chance fired up the stove to warm the coffee still in the pot and took a seat at the table.
Deborah returned looking as if she’d wrestled a bear. Sally made a beeline to him. This time, although she attempted to climb into his lap, he did not pick her up. He stroked her long, blonde hair and worked at some of the tangles.
Deborah had attempted to brush it th
at morning, but Sally would have none of that. Chance knew things could not continue like this, that the little girl would be spoiled, but his heart would not allow him to show his irritability—not yet, not ever, although discipline was needed. That could wait until things became more settled. Who knew what she may have had to endure in her short life before she ever arrived in Brokken?
Still, tonight he’d get her to sleep in her own bed—somehow, someway. He glanced up to see Deborah watching him.
“Chance...”
A knock sounded on the door, and irritability crossed Deborah’s face. She sighed heavily when Sheriff Vic entered with Missy.
Without a preliminary greeting, she glared at Chance who had not risen from his seat. Sally Jane still leaned against him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Men!” she murmured. “Did you read the letter I gave you?”
He’d forgotten all about it. While he pulled it out of his pocket, after moving Sally out of his way, Deborah offered to take the sheriff and Missy’s coats.
Sheriff Vic shook her head. “We’re not staying.”
Chance read through the letter quickly and puckered his forehead, not sure what to make of it. He looked to the sheriff and attempted to speak, but she held up a hand.
“We are not discussing this. Missy has been staying with Miss Edna and has helped care for Sally.” She touched the shoulder of the girl at her side.
Missy took the cue, stepped forward, and knelt. “Hey, Sally Jane. Remember me?”
Sally Jane had laid her head against Chance’s leg. She now straightened and smiled. Missy motioned for her. Chance and Deborah exchanged a glance, and Chance held his breath. He suspected Deborah did also.
Sally ran to the girl and threw her arms around her neck.
Sheriff Vic looked to Chance. “If you’d read the letter, you would have known without me telling you. Now, we’re taking her.”
Chance’s heart choked him. “No. I mean, you can make inquiries, but Sally needs to stay with us.”
Sheriff Vic smiled and then frowned. “Silly man. Didn’t you just read the letter?”
Chance glanced at the letter again, and his forehead smoothed. “Oh.”
“Follow the instructions.” She gave him another glare.
Missy stood and picked up Sally and spoke to her. “Do you want to go with me? We’ll play your favorite game.”
“Ride the horsey down to town?” Sally asked, and Missy nodded.
Chance feared for Sally, wanted to keep her close, to keep an eye on her, but the relief of having another person to share the load lightened his heart.
He opened his mouth to speak, but again, the sheriff held up a hand. “If we need you, we know where you are. We’ll try not to need you.”
Chance frowned and moved closer to the sheriff, determined to say at least one more thing. “And are you going to make inquiries as to the girl’s family?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. It’s the right thing to do.” Her eyes held compassion for him.
Chance nodded although his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
“Missy and I gathered Sally’s things from Miss Edna’s house, as few as they were.” She stepped closer to Chance, and to his surprise, wrapped her arms around him.
He held to her, as if she was a raft and him a sinking sailor. It was she who pulled away, and tears stood in her eyes before she averted her face. “Let’s go, Missy.”
Chance pressed a kiss to Sally’s forehead, and Deborah saw them out. Chance went to stand by the window, to watch them pass by on the sidewalk, his arms aching with emptiness. The sheriff and Sally both turned their heads, spotted him, and waved happily. He was glad the window obscured him, and that they could not see the tears that fell.
He went to the bedroom and poured water in the basin, to wash his face before Deborah came back. He looked up to see her watching him.
A slow smile formed on her face. “Alone at last.” She inched closer to him.
He ignored her, opened the chifforobe, and pulled out two bags. “Pack your bags.”
She raised her eyebrows. “What? But we’re alone. Finally.” She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck.
He untangled himself and smiled at her. “Yes, but the letter contains instructions from Sheriff Vic. We have to pack.”
“For what?”
His grin widened. “Trust me.”
“Trust you? That means trusting the sheriff after she tried to get Fritz sent to prison! I can’t believe Vic would do that to him.” Deborah was indignant.
Chance wasn’t so sure Fritz didn’t deserve some jail time, but now was not the time to argue.
The few clothes he had, he threw into the bag and turned to Deborah who still watched him with a puzzled expression. “I need to rent a buggy from the livery. I’ll be back to pick you up. Be ready.”
“Where are we going?”
He tilted her head to give her a gentle kiss. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” He smiled again and left.
CHANCE DID AS THE LETTER instructed, arriving at the hunting house at seven o’clock on the dot. He’d taken a long route in order to arrive at the exact time.
Deborah, of course, knew where they headed when they turned on the road leading to the cabin.
She squeezed his arm. “I’ve told you, haven’t I, that this is where I want to live?”
Chance nodded. She’d mentioned it more than once.
“My brothers may not want to give it up. It’s where they came to hunt and fish whenever they could.”
“Who knows?” A smile played on his lips that he could not hide, but the darkness obscured it, he hoped.
Deborah gasped. “Someone is here. I thought we were going to be alone.” She sighed heavily.
Two other buggies were pulled to the side of the house, and a wagon was at the front, the horses still in harness.
Chance jumped from the buggy and came around to help Deborah down. Calvin came from around the side of the house to meet them, his chest puffed out.
“I’m to take care of your horse for you,” he said.
Chance suppressed a laugh. “Thank you.”
Deborah and Chance walked up the steps, and both faced the door. He gave a sharp rap and put out his hand to open it.
Deborah grabbed his arm. “Wait. Whoever is in there may not want us to barge in.”
“It’s what the letter instructed,” he said and pushed the door open.
A fire burned in the fireplace. The cabin’s warmth welcomed them after the cold ride. Candles were lit and sat on the table loaded with food. Miss Abby smiled at them and removed her apron.
“I was just leaving.” She hugged Deborah and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Chance tried to speak but a lump in his throat would not let the words pass.
Abby hugged him and then held him at arm’s length. “The food is courtesy of Molly and Tom, although the town pitched in. Everyone else has left, gone out the back.”
She went to the front, her hand on the door, and then she turned her head. “And don’t worry. I’m taking Calvin with me.” She laughed and was gone.
Deborah wiped away the tears and sniffled. “Why would the town do this for us, after all the trouble we caused?”
Chance shrugged his shoulders and attempted to master the emotions swirling through him. Deborah moved around the cabin and emitted soft cries as she encountered each surprise.
She went into the bedroom and called out. “They even filled the tub! The water is perfect.” She came back to Chance, holding a silky gown against her. “This was laid out on the bed.” She glanced at him through her lashes.
He felt the silk fabric and smiled. “Someone must like me.”
Deborah laughed and slapped his hand away. “The note says it’s from Vic. Maybe I misjudged her—she’s always been kind to me.”
He nodded his agreement and gave
his wife a grin. “Go. Everything is prepared for you. I’ll be waiting.”
She smiled shyly, her cheeks pink, and left.
Chance went to the table, and his stomach growled. He buttered a roll and ate it and then noticed a card propped up in the center of the table.
He hesitated, wondering if he should wait for Deborah to read it, but his curiosity got the best of him. The outside of the card had drawings, made by children. Inside it read,
Mr. Hale,
You have brought us from the brink of the abyss by your gallant efforts. We cannot adequately convey our appreciation in words.
Our children were saved by your actions, and it will never be forgotten. Nothing we can say or do will ever repay you, but we hope to continue to show our appreciation daily.
The town of Brokken remains unbroken due to your efforts. With God’s help, it will continue that way.
Sincerely and with our deepest gratitude,
The Citizens of Brokken
Chance was deeply touched and traced his fingers over the drawings on the front. Deborah was not mentioned or Fritz or Klint. Perhaps there was another card for Deborah, but he did not see one. He decided he’d wait to show it to her later, not sure what her reaction might be. They had the rest of their lives to talk of it.
DEBORAH CAME FROM THE bedroom, and slid her hands down the silk gown, enjoying its smoothness. Chance moved toward her, his face glowing. He took her in his arms, and her warm lips found his. He trailed kisses down her neck until she gasped and shook.
She didn’t want him to stop but could not wait to tell him what else she had discovered. She put up a hand to his chest. “Wait.”
“For what?” he mumbled, still kissing her.
She pushed him back, and he stopped, his eyes still smoldering.
“A copy of father’s will and a deed were on the table next to the bed.”
“A deed to this house?” He did not sound surprised.
“Yes. Father’s will left it to me. I don’t know why.” She still could not believe it and searched Chance’s eyes as if he could convince her all of this was real.
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