“Then we’ll be off,” Gary said. “I’ll act like nothing’s changed and let the law handle everything.”
Sarah didn’t like it, but she wasn’t too surprised. The man had only their word to go on, and Wallace was his boss.
“I’ll leave as soon as we’re done burying him,” Dobie said, indicating Roger’s coffin. “Expect to see the sheriff in two days.”
* * *
In actuality, it was three days before he returned. Sarah spent the time trying not to think about Mr. Wallace and the evil he’d done, trying not to worry that he might attack them again. Something had been disturbing their herd. Longhorns were never comfortable around people, but their cows had been more skittish than usual. They couldn’t discount the possibility that a wolf had moved into the area—or that Wallace was continuing his harassment.
“Dobie’s back.” It was a warm day, and Jared had been sitting on the steps in the sun shelling dried peas for supper. “He’s got somebody with him.”
Sarah didn’t stop churning. It was a treat to have enough milk to make butter again. She was planning on making a cake, the first she had made in more than a year. She had to get this done.
“Do you know where Salty went?” she asked.
Things had changed once Salty finished the extra room. Sarah had moved into it, and Ellen had moved into her mother’s old room. Deciding it was better to wait until Roger’s death had been officially cleared up, Salty had opted to share a room with Jared rather than Sarah. That enabled Arnie to move into the shed, which he would share with Dobie until they could afford to build a bunkhouse.
“Salty said he and Arnie were going out to sweep the range for more unbranded stock. They were also going to look around to see if they spotted any tracks.”
Dobie and the stranger rode up. The man accompanying Dobie introduced himself as John Willis, deputy sheriff. He appeared quite young for the job, but he gave the appearance of a man confident in his abilities.
“Did you arrest Mr. Wallace?” Jared asked.
“He’s disappeared again,” Dobie said, his expression one of disgust.
“What do you mean again?” Sarah asked. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Please come into the house. It won’t take but a few minutes to make some coffee.”
The deputy sheriff dismounted. “Thanks, but I don’t want to stop your butter making.”
“We’re going to have a cake,” Jared informed him. “Mama’s going to put blackberry jam between the layers!” Sarah felt embarrassed that something as simple as a cake should cause the boy such excitement, but she was excited, too. She was glad they were able to enjoy such a treat again.
“Sounds good,” the deputy said. “Maybe you’ll save me a piece for when I come back.”
Jared shook his head. “Salty said he was going to eat everything left over for breakfast tomorrow.”
“That’s enough,” Sarah spoke up. “It’s not kind to tease the man about what he can’t have.”
“I wasn’t teasing,” Jared protested. “I was just telling him.”
“Did you have something you wanted to tell us?” Sarah asked the deputy.
“Mr. Wallace went home two days ago.”
“He brought in a bunch of cows and ordered Gary to brand them,” Dobie spoke up. “Gary wouldn’t do it because of what we said. He didn’t know where they’d come from.”
“Some of them looked too young to be weaned,” the deputy added.
“I bet he stole them from us,” Jared said.
“One of Mr. Wallace’s men told him that you all saw him shoot your first husband who everybody thought was dead. Mr. Wallace swore it was a lie. He tried to talk his men out of believing it.”
“He told Gary he had come over here to talk to you about doing a roundup together,” Dobie inserted. “He said Salty must have seen that as an opportunity to shoot Roger and blame it on him. He said we’d been trying to steal his cows. But after that, he disappeared and no one has seen him since.”
“I can assure you there’s no truth in his accusations,” Sarah said to the deputy. “Why would he come over in the middle of the night to discuss a roundup?”
“I already told him Arnie and Salty would swear to what they saw, too,” Dobie said.
“What do you want us to do?” Sarah asked the deputy.
The deputy shook his head. “Nothing yet. Dobie has sworn out a complaint against Mr. Wallace. That’s all I need until I find him. Now, I’d better be getting along. It’s a long ride to Austin, which is where I think he went.” He mounted up. After settling into the saddle he said, “Wallace is a rich man with some powerful friends. Don’t be surprised if they try to charge your second husband with murdering your first.”
“How can they?” Sarah asked, outraged. “No one saw what happened but us. And it’s not true!”
“I don’t know what these folks might do, but…witnesses can be bought.” Willis seemed embarrassed to admit the possibility.
“I ain’t changing my story,” Dobie stated. “Not even if somebody offers me a hundred dollars.”
Salty wouldn’t face false charges if Sarah could help it. “My husband has powerful friends, too. Contact the Randolph family. They have a ranch in—”
Willis laughed. “I know where their ranch is. After the parade last year to honor their father, everybody knows the Randolphs, and that they’re friends with Richard King.”
“Salty also knows Jake Maxwell. He served with George Randolph in the war.”
Raised eyebrows showed the deputy was duly impressed. “The support of these men will stand your husband in good stead if any charges are brought,” he said. “But be prepared for Wallace to cause as much trouble as possible.” With that, the lawman turned his horse and rode off.
“They won’t put Salty in jail, will they?” Jared asked.
“Not a chance,” Dobie said. “By the time Arnie and I get through telling what we saw, they’ll be building a gallows to hang Wallace.”
Sarah doubted Wallace and his friends could succeed in sending Salty to jail, but she was concerned about the rumors that might start. Being accused of murdering Roger so that he could stay married to her would follow him like a bad smell, and she hated the idea of anything sullying his reputation. He was the finest man she knew.
“I hate Mr. Wallace,” Jared said. “If he’s really saying those things about Salty, I want him to hang.”
Sarah was upset that her son should want anyone to hang, but she didn’t know what to say. He was just seven, too young to understand the damage that hate could do. He only understood that their neighbor was trying to take away someone who was very important to him. “Mr. Wallace isn’t a nice man, but we shouldn’t hate him.”
“Why not?”
Hate was a useless and destructive emotion that would do far more damage to Jared than it could ever do to Wallace. Besides, it was hate and jealousy that had made Wallace what he was. But before she could explain that to him, Ellen came running up, still smeared with dirt from working in the garden. “Who was that man that rode away? What did he want? Did they find Mr. Wallace? Why didn’t you call me?”
“That was the deputy sheriff,” Sarah told her daughter. “He hasn’t found Mr. Wallace yet, but they’re looking for him.”
“Mr. Wallace said Salty killed Roger,” Jared told his sister. “He wants to put Salty in jail and hang him.”
Ellen turned to her mother, her eyes filled with a fear Sarah had never seen. “They can’t do that, can they?”
It was impossible to be unaware of the importance of Salty in her life and the lives of her children, but the threatened loss was pushing both her children to the edge of panic. She drew them close and promised, “No one is going to put Salty in jail, and no one is going to hang him.”
“But the deputy said—”
“He said Mr. Wallace w
ould try to cause trouble, Jared. He may try, but he won’t succeed. Salty’s friends are rich and powerful, too. But he doesn’t need them because he has the truth on his side.” She prayed that was true.
“He’ll have them anyway, won’t he?” asked Jared.
“Yes, he’ll have them anyway.”
“He’ll have Arnie and me, too,” Dobie assured the boy. “Ain’t nobody going to make us say anything against Salty.”
“Now that that’s settled, we need to get back to work,” Sarah said. “Salty is going to expect the garden to be done and supper ready when he and Arnie get back. And you,” she told Dobie, “ought to go help him.”
“I feel like I’ve been in the saddle for three weeks instead of three days,” Dobie pleaded. “My butt’s got blisters on top of blisters.”
The children giggled. Sarah was glad.
“How much of those three days did you spend chasing senoritas?”
Dobie grinned at the children. “Sympathetic senoritas are not easy to find. Deputy sheriffs are much easier.”
Sarah laughed in spite of herself. “Get going, you rascal. A few hours of honest work won’t kill you.”
“I like working for Salty better,” Dobie said. “He’s not as tough as you.” He winked before turning and heading to the corral for a fresh horse.
A short time later they were all back at their allotted chores, but the haunted look remained in Jared’s eyes. Sarah knew it wouldn’t go away until Salty was home. Maybe not even then.
* * *
For the next week Sarah lived in daily hope of hearing that Henry Wallace had been captured, but they heard nothing. The deputy returned twice, but all he could tell them was that Wallace’s attempt to accuse Salty of having killed Roger had fallen flat.
His friends had indeed stood by him. George Randolph said anybody who believed Salty could be a stone-cold killer was a fool. Rose, who’d been in Austin because George insisted she see a doctor at least once a month, was even blunter. She said anybody who accused Salty of killing Roger was a bald-faced liar.
Other good news followed: the Randolphs’ lawyer stated that he believed being officially declared dead was practically the same as a divorce, and that he could make that stick in court. That meant there wasn’t much more to fear except where Wallace was hiding.
But fear it Sarah did. The man could remain hidden only so long before he got desperate. She knew only too well that desperate people did stupid and dangerous things. She had begged Salty to promise he wouldn’t ride out alone, and she kept both children in the house unless she was with them. While Jared accepted his confinement with stoic calm, Ellen would have rebelled if Sarah hadn’t gone riding with her once a day.
She hurried to finish folding the clothes she’d been washing and putting them away. She could never enter the “boudoir” Salty had built for her without shaking her head in amazement. It was as big as the other two bedrooms combined. She felt guilty having so much space to herself, but she was looking forward to the time when the two of them would share it. Every night it got harder to watch him enter the room he shared with Jared and close the door.
She carefully folded one of the dresses Rose had given her and thought about the closet Salty had built her. It had shelves! She now had more than enough room for her few garments. She laughed to herself. They’d never fill half the closet. Still, it was nice to have the extra storage space. And the new room… Whenever she entered it, she didn’t feel quite so poor.
But she did feel lonely. The room reminded her of the one night she’d spent in Salty’s arms, and the many nights since that she’d been separated from him. Her bed looked lost in its new setting, much the way she felt without Salty. She tried to tell herself to be patient, that she wouldn’t have to wait much longer, but that only worked until she was settled in bed and had nothing to distract her mind. She would start to remember the taste of Salty’s kisses, the feel of his hands on her body, the magic of her emotional and physical awakening. Her whole body would come alive. She would start to feel his kisses on the side of her neck, feel his tongue on her breasts, feel him invade her body, and a fire would kindle inside her that would soon have her squirming. She tried to drive the images from her mind, but they were like a fire that fed itself: the more she remembered, the more she wanted to remember.
Sarah shook her head to dislodge the unsettling images. She needed to finish putting her clothes away and get back to the kitchen. Jared was shelling peas, and now that she had milk and cream again, it would be nice to make a custard for dessert. She and Ellen would have to go for eggs.
When she reached the kitchen, Jared was still working. She didn’t see Ellen. “Where’s your sister?” she asked.
“She said she was going to milk the cow.”
The girl had to be desperate to get outside to offer to milk the cow. “She knows she’s not supposed to leave the house without me!”
“That’s what I told her, but she said nothing was going to happen.”
It irritated Sarah that Ellen should go out alone, but the men had told her repeatedly that she was being overly cautious. “Wallace would never come near this house again,” Dobie had said. “He knows any one of us would shoot him.”
Sarah had wanted to err on the safe side, and Salty had backed her up. He’d supported her restrictions when Ellen complained to him. Apparently a week was the limit of her acceptance.
“How long has she been gone?” she asked.
“Just a few minutes.”
Sarah went to the front door. Through the opening in the trees that surrounded the house she could see Ellen leading their milk cow toward a spot where she had left her stool and bucket. She ought to go out and watch, but it seemed foolish to stand around when she needed to be inside starting supper. “Don’t dawdle,” she called.
Ellen waved, a big smile on her face. She was so thrilled to be outside, she was happily doing a chore she usually hated.
Sarah went back into the house. “Your sister doesn’t follow rules very well,” she muttered.
“You’ve made her stay inside all week,” Jared replied. “I’m surprised she hasn’t snuck out before.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I don’t mind.”
“Well, once they find Mr. Wallace, you can go just about anywhere you want,” Sarah promised him. Since Salty had been teaching him to ride, he’d been pushing his mother to give him a horse of his own.
“Can I ride out with Salty?”
“Maybe,” she allowed. “When you get more secure in the saddle.”
“I won’t learn by sitting inside.”
“I know. Just be patient.” It seemed she’d been saying that to Jared his whole life. Still, things were better than they’d ever been.
Sarah took a quick peek out the window. Ellen was tying the cow to the tree, so she turned back to the kitchen. Fixing supper for six people, three of them grown men, took at least an hour of hard work. She’d completely lost track of time when Jared said, “Ellen should be back by now.”
“Look out the window and see what she’s doing.” Sarah kept working on the biscuit dough.
“I see the cow, but I don’t see Ellen.”
Alarm battled with exasperation. Sarah was cleaning her hands when she heard the door open. “It’s about time you got back,” she said. “I was about to—”
“I’m not your daughter.”
Sarah turned to see Henry Wallace standing in the doorway, a gun pointed at her.
Twenty-five
Sarah’s fear was so extreme, she couldn’t think, could only ask the question uppermost in her mind. “What have you done with her?”
“She’s safe. I won’t hurt her.”
Her dread only partially allayed, Sarah’s brain started to function. Wallace had nothing to gain and everything to lose by hurting Ellen. She had t
o remain calm and find out what he wanted.
She had known Henry Wallace all her life, but she had never really looked at him until now. He had just been there, a neighbor who grew more annoying each year, whom mostly she pitied for having lost his family. But now he’d placed himself outside the law. To what further extremes would he go?
Being forced to spend a week in hiding had robbed him of his well-groomed appearance. His shirt was dirty and its collar frayed. He hadn’t shaved. She guessed he’d combed his hair with his hands, though she didn’t know why he’d bothered. His pants were dirty and creased, his boots discolored by dust. His eyes were cold and unfeeling.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“What do you want?”
“I want your men to swear I didn’t kill Roger.”
“Who would we say killed him?”
“I don’t care. A robber or a rustler. Anybody else.”
“The deputy has written statements from all of us.”
“It was dark. You could have made a mistake.”
“I don’t think the deputy would believe us.”
“It won’t matter,” Wallace said. “He can’t charge me if he has no evidence, and those statements are all the evidence he has.”
Sarah had been so focused, she hadn’t noticed Jared move. The boy was on his feet, however, and noiselessly approaching Wallace from behind. She desperately wanted to tell him to stop, that she would handle Wallace, but she didn’t want to do anything to startle Wallace. If he thought he was being threatened from behind, he might shoot before thinking.
“I suppose I can do what you want,” she said, hoping to keep his attention on her, “but it’s going to take some time.”
“Why?” He looked puzzled. “All you have to do is tell the deputy you made a mistake.”
“It won’t be easy to convince the men to change their stories. Both Arnie and Dobie dislike you.”
It was all she could do to keep her gaze on Wallace. Jared was only a few feet behind him. Her eyes pleaded with him to back up, but Jared didn’t even look up.
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