"I'd prefer not to, if you don't mind." Now she was being evasive and arrogant, but at this stage, was past caring.
Another sigh from the Sheriff. "Fine. I have other things to do and cannot waste my time arguing with a prostitute."
"I am not a prostitute!" She hadn't meant to raise her voice but his insistence that she was a lady of the night was beyond irritating. Having caught his full attention, she did her best to calm down before continuing. "I simply prefer to keep my identity to myself. My reasons for this are personal and I don't expect you to understand them, but I pray you will respect my wishes." She hoped this would put a stop to his questions. If she was going to have to spend the night here she wanted to try and sleep, knowing that things always look better in the morning.
He shook his head in apparent disbelief. "Okay, then. I'll consider you an uncooperative runaway. Is that more to your liking?"
Yes, she was being stubborn, but she had her reasons and thought they were good ones. She wasn't truly running away from home, but rather, from her past, so that wasn't really a lie either.
"I suppose it would suffice."
He made an abrupt turn, went to his desk, and sat there for several minutes writing something. Millie presumed he was making a note of the meager information she provided. She hadn't wanted to quarrel with him, but at the very least she had to make him understand she wasn't what he'd first thought. Her purity was still intact, of that she was more than certain.
~#~#~#~
Chapter Seven
The bunk was hard and difficult to sleep on, though Millie was happy to be able to lie down. Yes, it had been a rough night, and the lack of a mattress didn't make it easy to get a proper rest, but she did feel much better when she woke and determined to make the best of things.
Thank You, Lord, for providing me with a safe shelter for the night. I shall not complain that it was in a jail cell, for I know it was my own decision. Be with me throughout this day, Lord. Amen.
It wasn't her usual morning prayer, but her life wasn't the same anymore either. She was no longer a child and it was time to put the past behind her.
Smoothing her hair and dress as best she could with her hands, she attempted to make herself more presentable. Yes, she realized it was a useless effort given her current circumstances, but it helped make her feel a bit more normal. Most of all, she wanted a bath - or a thorough wash at the very least. Looking dirty was one thing. Smelling dirty was far worse.
Apart from the bench-like bunk, there was nothing in the cell for her to sit upon, but the thing that bothered her most was the lack of something to do. Sitting still on a hard surface all day was sure to make her go insane. She would much prefer to be sweeping the floors than being idle.
The moment she was certain she'd scream, if only to break the stifling silence, the door opened and an older woman stepped in. Millie noticed her clean, crisp apron, but her attention was drawn to the delicious aromas coming from the food basket she was carrying.
"Good morning!" Her greeting was bright and cheery. "I'm Emma. Sheriff Benson came by the inn and asked me to bring your meals for today."
Emma came toward her, reached into the pocket of her apron, and pulled out a key. She unlocked the cell, handed the basket to Millie, and gazed at her as if for some sort of inspection.
After a few moments she spoke up. "I must say, you certainly don't seem the kind of girl to be guilty of what he suspects." Her smile was gentle. "To me, you look more like an unfortunate soul who's had a rough time recently."
Millie returned the grin. "All my life, if I'm to tell the truth."
She sat and opened the basket. The aromas of fresh biscuits, scrambled eggs, and a generous portion of fried ham brought a rumbling to her belly. Momentarily forgetting Emma was standing nearby, she snatched the napkin and silverware. Digging into the luscious morsels and chewing with delight, she closed her eyes to enjoy the flavors.
Emma's light chuckle brought her back to reality. "I must say, you certainly seem to take pleasure in eating your meals." A wide smile formed on the woman's face.
Millie stopped eating for moment and dabbed the corners of her lips with the napkin. "It isn't often I'm served such a feast. I feel like this is Christmas dinner." The joy in her words had been intentional, hoping to pique the kind lady's interest.
It worked. "Oh? Why is that?" Emma seemed genuinely interested, and sat on the bunk next to her.
Until now, Millie had been unwilling to tell anyone about her past, but something about Emma put her at ease and she decided on the spot to open up to the older woman. Besides, she had an idea that Emma might be Douglas's aunt. After all, there couldn't more than one innkeeper in town who had a wife called Emma.
She told Emma her entire life story as if it were a tale she'd heard many times and as if her life depended on it - which it did at this point in time. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to tell it. She finished off by relaying the message from Douglas, apologizing for not having possession of the letter, which was lost somewhere with her luggage. She begged Emma not to tell the Sheriff her true identity, and the woman agreed to keep her secret.
It was a lot to take in and Emma couldn't understand why Millie needed to hide her true identity, but hide it she would. A secret was a secret, whatever the reason and her instincts told her Millie was a good person.
~#~#~#~
Her beauty distracted him. Though Jake did his best to ignore the emotions Lizzie evoked in him, it was a difficult task. Why was he allowing her to invade his thoughts? He couldn't figure it out. She may or may not be the kind of girl he'd first assumed, but he was sure she wasn't the one he would marry.
After thinking about it for a while, he decided something must have come up to delay Millie's departure from Atlanta. He was no further advanced in the matrimonial stakes than he was yesterday and he was still waiting for his bride to arrive. The night he'd passed was restless at best, as he thought about all the things that could have delayed her. He sincerely hoped none of them were true, particularly in relation the the Dalton Brothers.
He'd awakened Rory early and asked him to report to the Sheriff's Office to keep an eye on the prisoner, explaining that he and Deputy Matthews would be checking with the townsfolk this morning to find out if anyone knew the woman in the jail cell, and would be out until after lunchtime. Rory was obliging as ever, loving every chance he got to practice being a lawman and decided right off that guarding this particular prisoner would be one of his best assignments so far.
By three o'clock that afternoon, Jake had talked to many people in Hope Springs, none of whom seemed to recognize his description of the woman sitting in his jail cell. He had no idea how long she'd been plying her trade in his town and it worried him that no-one knew her. At the back of his mind, he tucked away the thought that perhaps she had something to do with the Dalton Brothers. With no results to his investigation, he returned to relieve Rory and try to get more information from the young woman herself.
The junior deputy had barely left, and Jake turned to the young woman in the cell.
"I hope you had a good night and a pleasant morning." He kept his voice emotionless on purpose.
Millie saw no point in telling anything less than the truth. "This bench is hard and uncomfortable."
He'd heard that complaint too many times.
"However, I do want to thank you for asking Emma to provide meals for me." She paused. "And Rory is a fine young man. I think he will make a fine deputy someday."
"The accommodations here are not meant to be luxurious, however, I realize you need to eat." He flashed a stern glare at her. "I would prefer if you'd refrain from speaking to my deputies. They aren't here for your amusement."
She let out a sigh weighted with disappointment. "Why must you be so strict with me? What have I done to make you despise me so?"
He felt obliged to answer even though he didn't want to. "You may find this difficult to believe, but I do not hate you." Tha
t was more true than he wanted to admit at the moment. "I'm suspicious of you because of your offer to do anything in exchange for a place to stay. Your hand is bandaged, there are stitches on your face, and your clothing is filthy and almost in tatters. As Sheriff, all those things together tell me only one thing."
Her hands went to her hips, and she assumed a stance of annoyance. "You didn't allow me to clarify what I meant. You cut me off before I could finish explaining." She paused, and he waited for her to continue. "I was simply offering to do household chores to pay for my lodging. Nothing more."
The intensity of her stare and insistence in her words told him all he needed to know. He'd been wrong to judge her so swiftly. But he couldn't help feeling there was something she was still hiding from him. And her explanation did nothing to allay his fears about her association with the Dalton Brothers, something he could not afford to ignore. After all, her arrival and the news concerning the Dalton boys happened around the same time. It was more of a co-incidence than he was prepared to accept.
"If that's the truth, why do you refuse to tell me who you are?"
Before she could answer, the door burst open, and a man rushed in. Jake addressed him as Mr. Dawson, and she heard mention of the man's ranch just south of town. He was fuming about cattle that had gone missing since the previous night. It had started. The Dalton Brothers had arrived to wreak havoc on his patch.
~#~#~#~
Chapter Eight
Sheriff Benson and the rancher had left in such a hurry they nearly trampled Deputy Matthews when he came in. Millie found it difficult to stifle the giggle brought on by the scene playing out in the office, though she was able to keep the men from hearing it.
She would have liked to get to know the deputy, but as soon as the Sheriff was gone, the young man sat, propped his feet upon the desk, tilted his hat over his face, and began to snooze. He'd likely had a busy day, so she didn't blame him for taking a little nap. The only problem was that she had nothing to occupy her time except to sit on the hard wooden bunk. And she'd been doing that all morning. With nothing else to do, she closed her eyes and began to pray. It wasn't as if she didn't need to, given the state of her current circumstances.
It seemed as if only a few minutes had passed when Emma came in with her supper, waking her from a light sleep and rousing the deputy, also.
"Ah! There you are." He seemed genuinely glad to see her. "Would you be able to stay here for a bit while I go home? Ida's making my favorite supper tonight and I don't want to miss it."
"Go ahead, I don't mind. But don't take too long, else Jake will be upset and he's got enough on his mind as it is. Anyway, I enjoy spending time with Lizzie. She's a fascinating young lady." Emma flashed a grin at him.
"Thank you. I'll be back as soon as I'm able." He moved with swiftly toward the entrance.
"Don't rush yourself, dear."
Emma's words had no sooner left her lips when the door closed behind him. With a giggle coming from her, the older woman unlocked the cell and let herself in. She handed the basket to Millie, and sat beside her.
"Have you had a moment to speak with Jake ?"
"Only briefly, though I think I may have convinced him I'm not a prostitute." She offered a small smile, then took a big bite of the roast beef.
"That's a good thing." The woman regarded her for a few moments while she continued to eat. "If I may ask, why won't you tell him who you are? It would make things a lot simpler for you."
Millie placed the knife and fork gently in the basket and turned to face Emma. She lifted her left hand, pointing at the stitches on her cheek.
"Because of this. He's expecting an undamaged young woman from Charleston, not someone who's been marred." She felt a tear slip from her eye, slightly stinging the gash an inch below it.
Emma draped an arm around her shoulder. "I don't think it will matter to him. Whatever you may think, you're still beautiful. Once those stitches are gone, that scar will hardly be noticeable."
Millie gave her a tiny smile. "That's what your nephew said too."
The older woman let out a lively chuckle. "Well, then. There's your answer. Two people telling you the same thing can't be wrong."
"I suppose not." She felt her grin widen. "Thank you for helping me feel better about it."
"That's what one does for a friend." Emma returned the smile. "Now that we've settled your little self esteem problem, I have a proposal for you."
Millie picked up the silverware and prepared to finish her supper. "What do you mean?"
"I've spoken with my husband, and we agreed to allow you to occupy a room at our inn, in exchange for help with a few daily chores. It wouldn't be anything difficult - just a little assistance in the kitchen, and tidying a room when a guest leaves." She paused. "Would that be of interest to you?"
Millie could scarcely believe what she'd just heard. "Are you certain it would not be an imposition? I don't want cause you any inconvenience."
"Not at all, dear. Besides, now that Jake doesn't think you're a criminal, he must let you out of here. You will need somewhere to stay, and I need someone to help me cook and clean."
Millie embraced the other woman for a moment. Maybe things were getting better after all. With her hopes restored, she felt more at ease and thought maybe it might be time to let the Sheriff know who she really was. She could only pray he'd believe her until her bags were returned and she could show him the proof.
~#~#~#~
Emma had remained with her as long as she could, but needed to get back to the inn. She'd been away for longer than she'd intended and wondered what was taking Bobby so long. Millie assured her she'd be fine until the deputy returned, explaining how she could use the quiet time to think about the best way to tell Jake her true identity.
The innkeeper's wife had only been gone ten minutes when the Sheriff returned, leading a man with his hands tied together in the front. It seemed Jake had caught a rustler and brought him back to occupy the other cell. Once the criminal was safely locked up and his hands freed, Millie addressed the Sheriff. It didn't take long to gain his interest.
"I'd like to speak with you, if that's alright."
He stopped in front of the cramped room where she'd been confined for nearly twenty four hours. His left eyebrow lifted, and he gave her a cautious stare, wondering what she could possibly have to say, hoping all the while it had nothing to do with the Dalton Brothers.
"You must know I'm not the kind of woman you first thought me to be." He blinked and nodded. "I would assume, then, you will be releasing me, since I've not broken any laws."
Regarding her carefully, he seemed to hesitate, and she could see by the look in his eyes he was deep in thought. She hoped he would agree because she wanted to go over to Emma's and take a bath, wash and mend her clothes, then start work.
"Where would you go? You were seeking shelter last evening."
"Emma has offered me work in exchange for a room at the inn. The moment you set me free, I shall go directly there."
Again, he appeared to be weighing her words in his mind. "I suppose that would be a good remedy to the situation."
He took a step toward her cell, and at the same time, the front door of the Sheriff's Office flew open with a deafening bang. Three men rushed in, guns held out, ready to shoot. Jake stepped toward his desk, away from the cells, presumably to keep any bullets from flying in Millie's direction. So much for telling him the truth about who she was.
Millie skittered to the bunk, sat in the furthest corner, and pulled herself into the smallest ball she could form. She tucked her head between her knees, covering her ears with her hands, not wanting to see or hear what she knew was about to happen. Someone was going to be hurt and while the Sheriff had been less than kind to her, she didn't want him harmed. After all, she was supposed to marry him.
Her effort to muffle the sounds wasn't a complete success. Men's shouting voices were followed by gunshots, and the fear coursing through her
body froze her in place, like an ice sculpture. A silence followed that chilled her further. Seconds - possibly minutes - ticked by. She couldn't be sure how much time had elapsed, and didn't want to move.
It was likely the Sheriff had killed or wounded the intruders, but it was also possible the invading men had killed Jake . What would she do if they had? Either way, she was sure she wouldn't be able to look upon the scene out in the office. With all the gunshots she'd heard, blood must have been splattered all around the place.
A metallic sound caught her attention. Someone was turning a key in the lock of the other cell, then a moment later her own was being opened. She looked up, certain she'd see Jake standing there, only to be horrified at the sight of four filthy, scruffy men seeming to drool over her.
"Look, Billy Joe!" One of them directed his words to the man Jake had locked up. It seemed he was the leader of the group. "We got us a right purdy wench here!"
"Ain't we the lucky ones?" Wearing an evil grin, Billy Joe stepped toward her and snatched her upper arm, yanking her from the bunk. "How'd you like to keep me and my little brothers company for a while?" A lecherous snicker frothed from his throat.
Millie tried to scream, but the man pressed his other hand over her mouth and dragged her backward out of the cell. The last thing she recalled seeing was the Sheriff on the floor near his desk, slumped against the wall and bleeding from a gunshot wound in his left shoulder. Then the world went dark.
~#~#~#~
Chapter Nine
Someone was calling his name. Why was he asleep, and why did it seem difficult to wake? Then he realized his head and shoulder were in pain. How did that happen? Jake 's mind was whirling in an attempt to remember what caused him to be in this situation.
Now he was being shaken, but in a gentle manner. "Jakey! You have to wake up."
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