Long Time Gone

by Mary Connealy

  He’d face whatever trouble that caused when he had to.

  The sheriff had a good-sized staff of deputies, who helped carry the man into a cell. Since the outlaw didn’t stir, and the sheriff couldn’t find anything in his pockets, Chance and Ronnie told their story and things went quickly.

  “Can we leave to send our telegram now?” Ronnie asked with a smile. Just like a concerned mother, which she was.

  The Denver jail was a big building with a lot of men working. Right now every available man sifted through a mountain of wanted posters. They were busy trying to identify the man they’d just locked up.

  The sheriff nodded without looking up. “Come on back, if you will. We’d appreciate the help searching for this outlaw.”

  “We won’t be long.” Ronnie was doing all the talking.

  Just as well, because Chance was afraid he wouldn’t be able to conceal his anxious desire to get out of there.

  She asked, “Would it be all right if we stopped for breakfast on our way?”

  “Yep, no hurry. There’s a diner a few doors down on this side of the street. The telegraph office is right across from it.”

  Leaning on the crutch, thinking of how soon he planned to defy the doctor and head for home, Chance tried to be gentle with his leg. They headed for a sign that said Harvey’s Diner.

  “Let’s read that letter.”

  Chance smiled at her. “After you, wife.”

  They both stepped inside the diner. It was early enough still that not many folks had shown up yet for their morning meal. Chance led Ronnie to a table around the corner from the door. He had the letter out before his backside had barely hit the chair.

  It was one page long. “The address says Bert Collins.” He looked up at Ronnie. “We can’t be sure if this is a letter sent to the man we caught, so we can’t say it’s Bert Collins in that cell.”

  A young woman came up and set a cup of coffee in front of each of them.

  Ronnie said, “We’d like flapjacks and fried ham, please.” She looked across the table at Chance. “Is that enough or are you extra hungry?”

  “Fry me up three eggs besides the flapjacks and give me a double serving of ham. That’s enough, to start.”

  “And miss, can you bring me a paper and a pencil? We’d be glad to pay for it, but we need to make a list for our shopping.”

  The waitress smiled sweetly. “I’m sure I can find that in the back. I’ll ask the owner if he wants to be paid.” She hurried away.

  Chance said, “We’re taking notes?”

  “We have to hand over that letter, and I’m not trusting one word of this to my memory.”

  Chance groaned as he looked again at the chicken scratches on the letter. “I think we’re going to need more time. I can’t make this out.”

  Ronnie took the letter from him, leaned closer and squinted her eyes. “The signature at the bottom says . . . it could be . . . Dantalion. But I’d never have said that if John hadn’t written that name to us.”

  By the time she finished studying it, the waitress was back with their meals, along with paper and pencil. “My boss said you’re welcome to the paper at no cost, but he’d like the pencil back.”

  “That will be fine, thank you.” Ronnie set it all aside and dug into her breakfast.

  After they’d finished eating, both of them poured a fresh cup of coffee, Ronnie went back to her deciphering. Moments later, seeing her struggle, Chance finally said, “We have to take the note home. Whatever the trouble from that man who attacked us, the one possibly named Bert Collins, the fact that our bedroom got shot up is enough to keep him in jail for a while. Our problem is back in New Mexico Territory at the CR. We need this evidence more than the Denver sheriff does.”

  “He would be furious if he knew we were taking it. Maybe if I found a magnifying glass and spent more time studying it, I could—”

  “We don’t have more time, Ronnie.”

  “We don’t?”

  “The train leaves in less than an hour, and it’ll take us most of the time we have left to get there.”

  “I know you’re itching to get home, Chance, but the doctor wants at least another week in this smaller cast before you leave.” She reached up and rested her hand on his cheek. “I want us to stay for as long as Dr. Radcliffe says we should—I want you to heal straight and strong.”

  “And I want to get back to Skull Gulch and help fight for our children and for our home. We’ve been a long time gone.”

  “Our children are smart and tough because we raised them right. They’ll be okay.”

  Chance knew this wasn’t a battle of wills because they both wanted the same thing and almost equally as bad: Chance not to cripple himself with his need to rush home. Besides, he wouldn’t be much help in a fight if he ruined his leg permanently.

  Chance blew out a breath. “That land is the legacy I’ve wanted for our children, Ronnie. Now that they’re fighting for it, it hurts I’m not there for them.”

  “I know, but we need to stay right here in Denver. Now let’s go send that telegram. We can tell the children about Dantalion’s name, and add Bert Collins so that Sheriff Joe can look for someone with that name. I’ll explain about the trouble with the cramped handwriting.”

  Chance nearly smiled to hear Cole, Justin, and Sadie referred to as “the children.”

  “I’ll tell them I’m studying it and that I’ll write them a letter with more details just as soon as we have any.”

  He nodded, then looked down at his broken leg. “I suppose the fact I can walk at all is a near miracle. I could have died. I could have lost my leg. I could have kept the leg, but been maimed to the point I couldn’t use it. I need to be grateful.” He raised his chin and looked his pretty wife in the eye. “I agree, Ronnie—I should wait for the doc’s okay before I head home.”

  “And I’m doing my best to trust my children with this trouble.” Ronnie stood and offered a hand to Chance. He caught hold and stood. “We’re going to have to strike out on our own, too. It’s not the doctor’s fault or the sheriff’s that we were found. But someone knew, Chance. Someone followed one of them. The only way to be safe is to tell no one where we’re staying.”

  “But I’m mighty noticeable with this crutch.”

  She paused for a moment, lost in thought. Then she looked up at him, and a smile bloomed on her face. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “I don’t have to ride in a casket again, do I?”

  She shuddered, but never lost that beautiful smile. “Nope, I’ve thought of a better way. C’mon. Let’s go send that telegram.”

  35

  The afternoon was wearing down as they approached Skull Gulch. Justin hoped this was their last spell of fighting.

  “Angie,” Justin said as he swung down and went to her. With his hands securely on her waist, he lifted her out of the saddle and smiled as he lowered her to the ground. Her eyes were so pretty and blue that he forgot what he was going to say.

  “What were you going to say, Justin?” She didn’t even look confused as she stood there grinning at him. Which reminded him.

  “Let’s get married. We can go find Parson Gregory while these criminals get locked up.” He looked over her shoulder to see his family watching him. They seemed to be overly entertained.

  “Don’t let him say the vows until we get there.” Sadie sounded as stern as Ma. “Promise me, Angie. I don’t trust him to remember his name.”

  Angie exchanged a very female sort of look with Sadie. “We’ll wait, but don’t linger. I’m as eager as he is.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Can you tell Aunt Margaret to come? I’d love to have her at my wedding.”

  “I’ll see to it.” Sadie gave Angie a hug. “Welcome to the family.”

  Angie smiled and hugged Sadie back, then looked at Justin and reached out. He took her hand and hooked it to his elbow. Together they walked away from all the troubles.

  Parson Gregory wasn’t at the church, but he had a sma
ll house next door where he lived with his plump wife and three half-grown children.

  “You want to get married right now?” The parson didn’t seem upset. Surprised but not upset. He must be used to sudden weddings.

  “Yep. Can you come to the church?” Justin smelled food cooking, and Mrs. Gregory had a wrinkled brow—probably annoyed by the interruption, if Justin had to guess, but probably also used to them. “It’ll be a real short ceremony, ma’am,” he told her. “You and the youngsters are welcome to come too, if you’d like.”

  Parson exchanged a look with his wife, who shook her head. He said, “I’ll be over after I put my parson’s collar on. Unless you’re in need of a witness, my wife will stay home.”

  He shook Justin’s hand, then slapped him on the shoulder in a good-natured way while nodding to Angie. “Congratulations to you both. I’ll be glad to bless your marriage.”

  “Thank you, Parson. We’ll wait for you in the church. My family will come shortly, and I’ve sent someone for Sister Margaret.”

  On their way to the church, Hank from the telegraph office came running up to them. He thrust a slip of paper into Justin’s hand. “From your ma and pa.”

  “Thanks.” Justin handed Hank a coin, looked at the folded paper for a long moment, then shoved it into his shirt pocket, unread. He took Angie’s hand and walked on toward the church.

  “Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked.

  Justin touched his pocket and felt the paper crinkle. “No, I don’t think I will. I’m not telling Sadie and Cole about it neither, not until we’ve spoken our vows.”

  Once they were inside and alone, he turned to Angie and pulled her into a tight hug. “I don’t want anything to stop us from getting married.”

  “And you think your parents’ wire might?”

  Justin shrugged. “It’s been one thing after another ever since I proposed. I think I’ll marry you first, just in case Pa orders me to come to Denver or tells me about someone else who wants to kill me.”

  Angie flinched.

  Justin tugged her down into a pew and sat beside her. He put his arm across her shoulders and kissed her gently at first, but it got fierce by the end.

  He broke off the kiss. “I’m sorry I ever said you weren’t ready for the life I could offer you. You are a brave, wise woman. I’ll be the luckiest man alive to have you for my wife, Angie. I can’t believe I’ve convinced such a fine and beautiful woman to marry me.”

  “I wasn’t that hard to convince.”

  Justin disagreed, but he didn’t say so. Instead, he kissed her until the church door swung open. His family was here. Behind them came Sister Margaret, who rushed for Angie so quickly that Justin had to jump out of the way to keep from getting run over.

  Sister Margaret hugged Angie with enthusiasm, so Justin felt good about his chances of getting her blessing. Justin wondered if Margaret even knew Angie had spent yesterday in terrible danger.

  Sadie added a hug for Angie when she finally got a turn. Cole and Heath shook Justin’s hand.

  Parson Gregory came in and greeted the group. He’d been the parson in Skull Gulch for quite a while and knew them all well. “This is the second Boden wedding we’ve had in a short time.” The parson looked from Sadie to Heath. “I regret your parents aren’t here. How are they doing?”

  Justin remembered the telegram in his pocket from his ma and pa. In fact, it seemed to heat up and make him itch. Usually a telegram contained important news, especially since Ma had been writing regularly, and even Pa a few times. He had a strong need at that second to pull out the wire and read it. He fought back the urge. He had to marry Angie before anything else stopped him.

  He took her arm and said, “I think we’re ready for the service, Parson.” Justin smiled down at Angie. He nearly dragged her up front to where they’d speak their vows to each other.

  Yet she seemed as ready as he was, so there wasn’t a lot of dragging.

  “Sadie and Aunt Margaret, will you stand beside me while we have the ceremony?” Angie asked, and both ladies hurried forward.

  Well, that forced Justin to ask Cole and Heath. Not that he didn’t want them. He just hadn’t thought of such a thing. He figured they’d be fine sitting in the front row.

  With a nod, Parson Gregory said, “It’s nice to see you here, Sister Margaret.”

  He began the vows. As he spoke the age-old words, Justin took a minute to ask God for forgiveness, for protection for his family, and finally protection for himself just in case he should’ve shown Cole the telegram earlier.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  He was married. Finally.

  He kissed his bride, who kissed him right back and then hugged his arm where she held him tight.

  When they got outside, Sister Margaret gave Angie one last hug before heading back to the orphanage. The parson skedaddled home. He was probably only a few minutes late for supper.

  It was only family now, so Justin said, “Everybody, wait.” He was sorely tempted to put it off, but instead he pulled the telegram out of his pocket. “I got this wire right before the wedding. I ain’t read it yet.”

  Cole, being his usual rude self, snatched it. “It’s from Ma.” Cole looked up, alarmed. “Someone tried to kill them last night.”

  The group of Bodens—Justin counted Heath as a Boden now, even if he had the wrong last name—gasped and stepped closer to Cole.

  “Ma says they found a letter on the attacker before they locked him up. She thinks the name Dantalion is there, but she’s not sure because the writing is so small and cramped it’s hard to read.”

  Cole turned to Justin. “Sounds like the same sort of writing we found on Dantalion.”

  “Which means your parents’ attack is connected to what’s going on here.” Heath slid an arm around Sadie and pulled her close.

  “Ma says she’ll send us a letter with more details. It should arrive in a few days. She’s convinced Pa to stay in Denver another week, although the doctor is pushing for longer than that.” Cole thrust the telegram back in Justin’s hand. “The telegraph office is closed now. We should’ve sent a reply earlier. This wouldn’t have slowed up the wedding much, Justin—why didn’t you show it to me?”

  “Because I’ve been trying to get this woman to marry me for a while now and something keeps preventing it.”

  “It’s really just been two days,” Angie reminded her new husband.

  “Well, it’s been a mighty long two days, and I was afraid if anything held us up, you’d get kidnapped again or one of us would get shot at or someone would start a revolution right over our heads.”

  “Who sent a man to kill Pa?” Cole wanted to know. “This so-called revolution could be someone just trying to confuse things. I see no evidence of it myself.”

  “Locking up Alonzo, Watts, and Windy, plus the man in Denver might put an end to it all then?” Justin hated to be optimistic.

  “We know someone was paying Dantalion, who in turn was paying Watts. That first night we caught him, he was angry when we told him how much Dantalion had been paid, who then offered Watts so little. But we still don’t know who hired Dantalion.”

  “We do know that the main outlaws involved are all locked up,” Heath said. “Let’s go home, give Justin and Angie a nice evening and some time alone before we go to war again. Cole, you can come to town in the morning and wire your ma. Then you need to get to studying that notebook and all the other writing we found on Dantalion.”

  “I’m trying. I haven’t been able to make out some of the words, and the ones I can read don’t tell me nuthin’.”

  “I’ll get a letter written by then, too.” Sadie headed for her horse. “I’ll tell her we caught those men and that she missed another wedding. That way she can have more news besides the telegram you’re sending.”

  Justin barely heard them. All he could think of was Angie and their nice evening together. He felt dizzy just thinking about it, which didn’t stop him from
striding for his horse. And it sure didn’t stop him from keeping hold of his wife.

  The bright side was that Cole hadn’t even come close to punching him. It probably meant he was still a little slowed down from being shot.

  “Let’s go.” Justin and Angie were riding home whether the rest of the group came along or not. “Tomorrow we start again with our investigating and questioning. Someone had to hire that man in Denver, and someone had to pay Dantalion to begin with. But tonight we celebrate our wedding.”

  Epilogue

  Rosita had supper ready for them when they arrived home. Angie just now realized the Bodens hadn’t picked Rosita up on their way to town because they cut an hour off the trip by not riding past the CR.

  Which meant the sweet lady hadn’t been invited to the wedding. Angie apologized to her.

  Rosita sniffed in response. “I wouldn’t have come anyway. I’m not leaving this house undefended ever again.” Rosita then smiled as she pulled Angie into her arms. “Welcome to the family, little one,” she whispered. “You are a fine match for my Justin. I’m so glad you aren’t hurt. I’ve prayed for you all, but none more than you in the clutches of those desperados.”

  “Thank you, Rosita.” Touched by the kind words, Angie returned the hug. “I needed God with me today, and of course He is always there. Yet the prayers from all of you had to help because I never gave in to panic. Somehow my thoughts were clear, and I never stopped listening to His guidance.”

  “I’ve made a fine supper. I knew you were on the trail most of the day, so I planned on having a hungry crowd. I believe it is good enough for a wedding celebration.”

  Rosita had fried chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy full of crunchy browned coating from the chicken. She’d made a cake too, for no reason except, she claimed, a deep need to keep her hands busy while her thoughts followed the day’s troubles.