The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2

Home > Other > The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 > Page 21
The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 Page 21

by Debra Mullins


  Jedidiah didn’t return the smile. “What I understand is that he tried to hang Susannah Calhoun—twice—and that he conspired to murder me as well.”

  “Conspired?” The senator laughed indulgently. “Certainly you exaggerate, Marshal.”

  “Certainly I don’t, Senator. Wayne Caldwell held my own gun on me and informed me that he intended to kill me so that he could hang Miss Calhoun. It’s hard to exaggerate a gun in the face, Senator.”

  “Your own gun, Marshal?” the senator repeated, a calculating gleam lighting his very blue eyes. “How ever did poor Wayne manage that?”

  “He stole it.”

  “I see. And you were where when he stole it?”

  Jedidiah stared at the senator, careful to keep his expression neutral. “I was asleep.”

  “Asleep! Are you such a sound sleeper that a man the size of my nephew can manage to steal a weapon from a skilled professional such as yourself?”

  Jedidiah never looked away from Caldwell. “Apparently this time I was, Senator.”

  “Well, I think it’s clear to all of us what really happened here.” The senator looked around with a knowing smile, as if including everyone present in the secret. His gaze came back to Jedidiah, as sharp as a well-honed knife. “I understand Miss Calhoun is a very attractive woman, Marshal Brown. I would certainly hate to discover that you used your position of authority to take advantage of the young lady.”

  “Now there’s a leap of logic,” Jedidiah said with a disgusted snort. “I was asleep, and from that, you deduce that I must have taken advantage of a young woman in my care? You’ll have to do better than that, Senator.”

  “You have ties to this woman,” Caldwell said, surprising him. “I have it on good authority that you requested this assignment for personal reasons.”

  Everyone looked at Jedidiah.

  “That’s hardly a secret, Senator. I’m acquainted with Miss Calhoun’s family. They asked me to help if I could.”

  “So you admit that you are involved with this woman.”

  “What I admit, Senator, is that I am acquainted with this woman’s family and that I agreed to escort her safely to Denver.”

  “Something which you have yet to do!” the politician pointed out triumphantly.

  “Because your nephew kept getting in the way.” Jedidiah turned away from the senator and looked at the sheriff. “I just stopped by to check up on the prisoner, make sure everything was all right.”

  “Looks like it from my end,” MacElroy replied.

  “Don’t you turn away from me, Marshal!” the senator thundered. “I’m not finished with you!”

  Jedidiah turned his head and looked the older man in the eye. “But I’m finished with you, Senator. You put pressure on the sheriff of Silver Flats to railroad Susannah Calhoun into a murder charge. I was assigned to escort her to Denver for trial. And that is what I intend to do, despite you and your nephew.”

  The senator drew himself up. “Your superiors will hear about your impertinence, Marshal Brown. I will have your badge for this!”

  “You may get my badge,” Jedidiah shot back, “but your nephew still broke the law, and he’s still going to jail for it. I suggest you content yourself with the way things are, and get on back to Washington or Denver or wherever you were before all this happened.” He turned his back on the senator and headed for the door.

  “You get back here, Marshal Brown! I am a United States Senator, by God, and you will listen to what I have to say!”

  “Save it for your constituents,” Jedidiah replied. He slammed the door behind him, ignoring the raised voices that followed him.

  When Susannah awoke, Jedidiah was gone.

  For a moment, she panicked. Then she saw his saddlebags in the corner and his shaving things on top of the bureau, and she breathed a sigh of relief. But it didn’t last long.

  Today was the day they would reach Denver.

  She sat up in bed and buried her face in her hands. Dear Lord, she’d thought she would be strong enough to handle it. But now that the moment was at hand, she was scared down to her toes.

  Murder. At first it had seemed like an amusing joke. But after feeling that noose around her neck and almost losing her life, she realized that it was all very real.

  She wouldn’t be able to charm a jury into believing her innocent, the way she often cajoled men into carrying her bags or opening doors for her. She wouldn’t be able to simply leave the room when things became uncomfortable, and she wouldn’t be able to find comfort in Jedidiah’s arms, because Jedidiah wouldn’t be there.

  He would try. Of that she had no doubt. Though no promises had been made, he had declared his feelings for her, then followed that declaration up with a night of loving that would convince the most hard-hearted and cynical woman that she was loved. But his authority had its limits, and once he handed her over to the law in Denver, he wouldn’t be able to do much more than sit in the courtroom once the trial started.

  She would be alone—completely and utterly on her own.

  She didn’t even know her hands were shaking until she raised one to brush back a straggling lock of hair. She stared at her trembling fingers, then slipped from the bed and walked to the mirror hanging on the wall. What she saw appalled her.

  She was pale, and her eyes were huge in her face. Her hair was a mad tangle of loose curls, and her lips were pressed together in a hard line that promised wrinkles later on. And her hands shook, like those of the guilty.

  Unacceptable.

  She was Susannah Calhoun, and darn it, she was innocent! She would not go to this trial like a lamb to slaughter, but like a lioness who would feed off the carcasses of those who stood in her way. And by God, she thought, grabbing her hairbrush from atop the bureau, she would look good doing it!

  The door to the room opened, and Jedidiah stalked in. He glanced at the empty bed and stopped, then turned around until he saw her.

  She realized all of a sudden that she was naked, but she didn’t care. She lifted her chin in challenge.

  “Susannah?” he questioned.

  “I need a new dress,” she told him. “I also need a hat, and some talcum powder. I do not intend to go on trial looking like a washerwoman!”

  He grinned. “I rather like the washerwoman look, myself. If that’s the look you’ve got on right now, that is.”

  She sniffed. “Typical man.”

  “Sweetheart, there’s no need to insult me.” He closed and locked the door. “If you want a new dress for the trial, then we’ll get you one.”

  “Thank you.” As haughty as a queen, she walked across the room and scooped her clothing from the floor.

  “Have I ever told you that you’re magnificent?”

  She paused in sorting out her garments and looked back at him where he leaned against the door. He smiled at her with such pride and such love, that she softened.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Nothing gets to you. Nothing stands in your way. I love that about you,” he said, stepping away from the door. “The way you sort out all the unimportant nonsense and cut right to what matters.”

  “It’s the only thing that will get me through this.” She cleared her throat as she started to feel dangerously misty.

  “Marry me, Susannah.”

  At first she thought she had misheard him. “What did you say?” she asked, staring.

  “I said marry me.” For once the unflappable Jedidiah Brown looked positively nervous. “Now. Today.”

  “We can’t,” she replied. “What about your job? Wouldn’t that be a problem?”

  “I don’t care. I’m tired of politics anyway. Just say you’ll marry me. Let me be there for you.”

  “Oh, Jedidiah.” She closed her eyes as her heart clenched with love, and with regret. He had given her no words of love, no promises, no reassurances. And she was standing there stark naked. But it was still the most romantic proposal she had ever gotten.

  “Don’t say
no.” He came to her and took the clothing from her hands. “I want to stay with you, Susannah. For the first time in twenty years, I’m willing to take a chance on love. I want to grow old with you. I want to give you children.”

  “But what if things don’t work out that way?” She lay a hand over his pounding heart. “I am honored and thrilled that you want me to be your wife. If things were different, I would say yes without hesitation.”

  “But—”

  “Let me finish,” she said, placing a finger on his parted lips. “If we get through this, if I can prove my innocence to that jury, then I will gladly marry you. But if I can’t, I would never forgive myself if you sacrificed your career for a marriage that lasted only days. I couldn’t die knowing that you had been left with nothing.”

  “You’re not going to die.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I won’t let you die, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you.” She sniffed back the tears and held on tighter.

  “I’ll get you out of this,” he vowed. “And then you’ll be my wife.”

  “Yes, Jedidiah.” Burying her face in his chest, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed to hold back the tears. “If I get out of this, I’ll be your wife. That’s a promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jedidiah left Susannah at the mercantile, dickering over fabrics and ribbons, while he went over to the stage depot. In the excitement of arresting Wayne Caldwell and getting his arm tended, he had forgotten to ask around about Mrs. Hawkins. He needed to do that before they left for Denver. If there was a chance to find the woman, they had to take it.

  He bumped into Nate right outside the door to the mercantile.

  “I had a feeling you’d be coming this way,” Nate said, falling into step with him.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be following the senator around?” Jedidiah asked.

  “Hey, I didn’t bring him here,” Nate protested. “He came to me because I was the one who sent out the wanted posters. Then I got word that Caldwell was in custody, and he insisted on coming here. I figured I’d better come along in case you were still in the area. I thought you might appreciate a friendly face.”

  “I do, actually.” They arrived at the depot, and Jedidiah walked inside with Nate on his heels.

  “You going to hop a stage to Denver? Probably a smart thing to do with Senator Caldwell hanging around.”

  “Not exactly.” Jedidiah walked up to the ticket window. “Excuse me—”

  “Can’t help you,” the pointy-faced clerk said without looking up from his paperwork. “The stage ain’t running today.”

  “We’re not interested in the stage today—” Nate started, but Jedidiah jabbed him in the ribs and leaned forward.

  “What’s wrong with the stage?” he asked conversationally.

  “Driver’s sick. Came in two days ago and started tossing up his dinner. He ain’t been able to lift his head from the pillow, so the stage ain’t going nowhere.”

  “What about other drivers?” Nate asked.

  The clerk finally looked up, annoyance pinching his rat-like features. “Three other drivers in the same area all got the same thing. Got us an epidemic. Only one stage running through here, and that’s tomorrow. Anything else you want to know?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is.” Jedidiah casually tucked his duster aside so the clerk could see his badge—and his revolver. “So the people from Tuesday’s stage had no way of continuing on their way?” he asked politely.

  “That’s right.” The clerk glanced at the revolver and swallowed hard. “A couple of ‘em ended up sick like the driver. The doc set them up at his place.”

  “Here in town?” Excitement shot through him.

  “Yup.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Jedidiah said, then grabbed Nate’s arm and dragged him out of the depot.

  “Do you think your witness is over at the doc’s?” Nate asked.

  “We’ll see.”

  Susannah left the mercantile with a smile on her lips and several wrapped parcels. With the money Jedidiah had given her, she had bought a new dress of blue-sprigged muslin that made her look fresh and innocent, and the most adorable bonnet adorned with blue ribbons.

  If she had to go on trial for murder, at least she would look magnificent while standing in front of the jury.

  When she got back to the hotel, she immediately unpacked her purchases and held the dress up against her, standing on tip-toe to see how it looked in the mirror over the bureau. Then she tried the garment on. It fit perfectly, and she grinned, twirling in a circle.

  A knock sounded at the door. Still smiling, she went to answer it. “Who is it?” she called.

  “Sheriff MacElroy, ma’am.”

  “One moment, Sheriff.” She unfastened the locks on the door and peeked out. Sure enough, Ransom MacElroy stood in the hall, hat in hand. He was accompanied by a silver-haired gentleman.

  “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am.” MacElroy looked distinctly ill at ease. “You see—”

  “Why don’t you let me explain, Sheriff?” The tall, well-dressed gentleman pushed his way past the sheriff and into the room. “Miss Calhoun, I take it?”

  “Yes.” Uncertain, she glanced at Sheriff MacElroy. “What is this about?”

  “Where is Marshal Brown, Miss Calhoun?”

  “He’s out.”

  “Out, is it?” The silver-haired gentleman sent Sheriff MacElroy a smug look. “Do you know where he went?”

  “Would you care to explain who you are and why you care to know?” she replied in the same snooty tone he had used.

  His eyes narrowed. “Who am I, you ask? I will tell you who I am, Miss Calhoun. I am Senator Morris Caldwell, and you murdered my nephew.”

  “Senator Caldwell.” Instead of being frightened, Susannah shook with fury. This was the man who had rushed the murder investigation. This was the man who had ruined her life! “I hate to disappoint you, but I did not kill your nephew. Though your other nephew, Wayne, tried to kill me.”

  The senator looked chagrined. “Yes, so I am told. Poor Wayne was driven mad with grief, it seems.”

  “I see.” She looked from one man to the other. “Was there something else, gentlemen?”

  “Are you staying in this room with Marshal Brown?” The senator began to stroll about the room without so much as a by-your-leave. He fingered Jedidiah’s shaving cup, then picked up her hairbrush and turned it around in his hand.

  “I have to. I’m in his custody.”

  “Are you?” With a charming smile, the senator replaced her hairbrush. “I find that hard to believe. After all, the marshal is not here, yet you are. If you were in the man’s custody, would it not be more customary for you to stay in the jail rather than in the hotel room with him?”

  “I used to do just that,” she replied stiffly. “But there were problems—most notably your nephew—so Marshal Brown took to keeping me with him.”

  “But my nephew was arrested yesterday. One would think the jail would be a safe place for you now.” The senator smiled in a blatantly patronizing way. “Yet I understand you stayed the night here.”

  “I don’t like your implication, Senator,” Susannah said.

  “I haven’t implied anything, Miss Calhoun, simply stated facts. You did stay the night here with Marshal Brown, did you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Is he your lover, Miss Calhoun?”

  She drew herself up indignantly. “How dare you, sir!”

  “Sheriff, I think your duty is clear,” Caldwell said, dismissing Susannah by turning his back on her. “Marshal Brown has clearly compromised himself and his position by taking advantage of the young woman in his custody.”

  “What!” Susannah cried.

  “You know your duty, Sheriff,” the senator continued.

  MacElroy reluctantly stepped forward. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said in a low voice. “I have to take you over to the jail now. We’ll get this straightened out.”

/>   “I’m not going anywhere!” She whirled on the senator. “You have a lot of nerve accusing Jedidiah Brown of any wrongdoing!” she snapped. “I’ve never met a more dedicated, honorable lawman!”

  “I’m afraid your opinion carries absolutely no weight,” the senator informed her. “The facts speak for themselves. Sheriff?”

  “He’s right.” With a shrug of apology, Sheriff MacElroy held out his handcuffs. “I’m afraid you have to come along with me, Miss Calhoun. Senator Caldwell and his party will escort you the rest of the way to Denver.”

  “But what about Jedidiah?” she cried.

  “Jedidiah, is it?” the senator sneered. “Your lover will learn what it means to trifle with a United States Senator.”

  Her protests went unheeded as the sheriff snapped on the handcuffs and escorted her to the jailhouse.

  Doc Benson didn’t like having his patients disturbed.

  “This is completely unacceptable!” the wizened physician cried as Jedidiah and Nate attempted to climb the stairs to the rooms above his office.

  “We have no intention of disturbing your patients, Doctor,” Jedidiah reassured him. “We’re just looking for someone.”

  “You can’t just barge in here like this!” the doctor protested as Nate pushed past him to follow Jedidiah up the stairs.

  “I’m calling the law!” Dr. Benson threatened.

  “We are the law,” Jedidiah returned, then entered the sickroom.

  Neat beds lined the walls, three on each side. Four of them were occupied, and only one by a woman. Jedidiah’s heart pounded as he approached the sleeping female. She had dark hair, that much he could see, but so did many women. It wasn’t until she sighed and turned over in her sleep that he saw she was indeed Abigail Hawkins.

  “It’s her,” he said to Nate, and his low-voiced remark woke her.

  For a moment she stared at them in confusion. Then terror crossed her face. She struggled with the bedclothes as if trying to escape them, all the while whispering, “No! No! No!” in a weak, raspy voice.

  “Mrs. Hawkins, don’t be afraid.” Jedidiah pulled aside his duster so she could clearly see his badge. “I’m a U.S. Marshal. My name is Jedidiah Brown, and I’ve been looking for you.”

 

‹ Prev