Deadman's Fury (The Deadman Series Book 2)

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Deadman's Fury (The Deadman Series Book 2) Page 13

by Linell Jeppsen


  Glancing outside again, she walked through the swinging door to the hotel’s main lobby and into the telegraph booth. The machine was ready so it took no time at all to send the message. Then she hurried back into the kitchen, threw the scratch paper into the woodstove and removed the coffee pot just as it began to boil.

  Chapter 20

  A Secret Vow

  Iris was helping Abby put away books and papers from the day’s classroom activities when Samuel ran in the back door of the schoolhouse. He clutched a brownish-yellow envelope in his right fist and blurted, “Ma! Pa sent a telegraph!”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she knew her cheeks flushed red. Lord, she thought, when is my passion for that man going to fade? Taking three long steps towards her eldest son, Iris snatched the paper out of his hand and ripped it open. She read Matthew’s words while her children watched her face anxiously.

  Most of the message was straightforward: Mattie needed her to board a train and come west to the town of Gold Bar. Once there, she was supposed to escort a young Indian woman back home to Walla Walla. That was simple enough, Iris knew, but the last line in the message made her heart pound with dread.

  Years ago, when she and Matthew first married, they were both still reeling from the attack on their hometown by the outlaw known as Top Hat. Many of their friends and family members had perished as the gang took over their town in retaliation against the young sheriff. Matthew and the town’s citizens were ultimately triumphant but at great personal cost.

  A week before Matthew and Iris tied the knot, he came out to her farm and asked to speak with her alone. Shooing the children away, Iris stared at her groom-to-be as he gazed up at the setting sun. There was such sorrow in his green eyes, she wondered if Matthew was about to call off the wedding entirely. Heart aching in her chest, Iris had clasped her hands together in her lap and waited.

  Matthew turned to her and said, “You know I’m not cut out to be a farmer, right?”

  Iris couldn’t help but smirk. Matthew was certainly capable of farming…she had never met a more intelligent or canny man. He just didn’t want to do it and that was fine with her. She had two good, steady farmhands already and enough money to sell—even at a loss—if that’s what Matthew wanted to do.

  Still, realizing the seriousness of his question, she nodded and said, “I know that, Mattie, and I’ve never asked you to farm this land. Why is that fact bothering you now?”

  His eyes locked on hers and he said, “The town fathers have asked me to stay on as sheriff here in Granville and, eventually, they want to put my name up as a Washington State Marshal. I guess old Steve McChord is fixing to retire in the next few years and they want me to replace him when he goes.”

  Iris frowned. “Are you telling me something new, Mattie? I knew going in you were going to be a lawman for as long as you’re able.”

  Matthew leaned over and kissed her. Then he sat back and said, “We’re entering into a new, modern age, Iris. It’s an exciting time to be alive but also a perilous time—especially for lawmen. Used to be a sheriff could chase a bunch of outlaws down with a decent posse and a good team of horses.” He sighed. “Some outlaws were worse than others though…and you know about that.”

  Iris nodded in agreement.

  “But, for the most part, the outlaws operated under the same principles as those who chased them—a good horse, a hidey-hole, and a fast gun. Things are different now.” Matthew sat up straight. “Trains are here and telegraph machines…things move quicker than they used to for both the good guys and the bad.

  “If you still want to marry me, knowing what my chosen profession is, then you and I need to have a code. Some sort of secret warning system in place so you and the kids and everyone else in this town will never be taken by surprise again.” Matthew’s eyes looked deeply into hers and he clasped both of her hands tightly in his own.

  Iris had thought her young husband was erring toward the side of caution. After all, she mused silently, what are the odds of another outside attack? Especially since Top Hat is dead and gone, along with the rest of his gang?

  She watched as Matthew pulled a piece of paper out of his pants pocket and listened as he started reciting some phrases he thought suitable. There were quite a number of key words on his list but she liked the one that said, “Remember our secret vow.”

  Reading those words now, Iris realized the only reason she had chosen that phrase over the others was because she had thought of nothing else for weeks but her marriage vows to Matthew. Just that morning, before Matthew showed up at the farm, she had scratched out one line and added another to the little poem she would read to him during their wedding the following week.

  Five years later, she studied the telegraph again. Dear Iris>Stop. Please board the train to Gold Bar>Stop. Roy will meet you>Stop. Escort the young woman, Sarah, back home to Walla Walla>Stop. Dicky and I will follow Amelia’s trail into Seattle>Stop. I love you and miss you more than I can convey. Remember our secret vow> Stop.

  “What is it, Ma?” Abigail’s frightened voice penetrated her concentration and Iris stared at her children’s faces.

  “Your father is okay but I have to leave town.” Iris’s mind was awhirl with everything she needed to do before the train arrived at 7:00 tomorrow morning. First and foremost, though, was keeping her family safe.

  It hardly mattered why she had originally agreed to the wording of Matthew’s secret code, the message now was loud and clear: They were in danger. The outlaws Matthew chased were cunning and ruthless, and Iris needed to inform the authorities about the situation as this meant the posse was compromised.

  Iris’s brown eyes flashed and she said, “Sammy, you and Abby need to pack up a few things and get some clothes and toys gathered up for Chance, too. You’re going to stay with Auntie Louise for a few days. Won’t that be nice?”

  “But Ma!” all three kids cried in near perfect unison.

  “No buts!” Iris knew that if her children had their way, they too would ride along to try and help but there was no way she would let that happen. “I want to see your bags packed and loaded in the wagon within the hour. I also want to see all three of you in the back of that wagon when I show up or I’ll have your pa give you a whippin’ when he gets back home!”

  The children managed to keep their eyes from rolling. Matthew’s whippings were notoriously easy, usually resulting in a piece of hard rock candy and a long talk rather than a hot bottom. Iris, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with when angered.

  So, within minutes of receiving Matthew’s telegraph, his family was on the move.

  ~

  Roy stepped out on the front porch of Gertie’s house and lit a stogie, something he only did when he was out of Louise’s line of sight. It had been a long morning since Matthew and Dicky left. Abner’s leg was giving him fits although he tried to deny it, and Sarah was not helping herself either, hobbling back and forth from her own room to help Gertie care for the stricken young man.

  Roy gazed up and down the street, momentarily catching the eye of the hotel proprietor, George Libby. The middle-aged man glared back at him and leaned forward, allowing a long string of spit to drizzle through his two front teeth and land on the boardwalk in front of his chair.

  Rolling his eyes in disgust, Roy acknowledged the insult with a raised middle finger and stepped back inside Gertie’s house. Seeing the old woman bustling around the long plank table with a large pot of oatmeal, he called out, “Gertie, when did you say the westbound train should arrive?”

  She set the pot down on the table and frowned in concentration. “Well, seems to me the westbound arrives about 3:30 or 4:00 every afternoon. That’s if there’s no breakdowns and the weather’s fair.”

  Checking the small clock on the mantelpiece, Roy saw that it was almost 3:00. Chances were the train would not roll in precisely on time but he figured he would get a head start. That way he’d be the first to see Iris when she stepped onto the platform. />
  “I’ll be back shortly, Gertie. Hopefully, with Sheriff Wilcox’s wife,” he said.

  Roy sauntered down the boardwalk, keeping an eye on Libby as he walked past. The man stared at him with dead, cold eyes and he wondered again if the hotel owner was somehow involved with Donnelly’s crew.

  Just as he arrived at the train station, he heard a distant whistle coming from the east. He could hardly believe it but the train was actually running ahead of schedule. Stepping up onto the wooden deck next to the rails, Roy stood behind a pallet stacked high with barrels. From the smell of them and the white crust rimming the tops of each, he figured that the containers held salted fish.

  If asked, Roy could not have told you why he hid instead of mingling with the small crowd that was starting to show up in readiness of the train’s arrival. It was a habit with him, one that had first started when he took up his deputy’s star for Spokane County. Over the years, he had found that standing back and getting the “lay of the land” before any confrontation served him well in staying alive.

  This cautious “look first” tendency was a defense mechanism that had become second nature by now. He was not a big man nor was he quick with a gun. But he had managed to keep himself and his best friend Matthew out of a few jams by approaching every situation with careful consideration. He watched as the black and gray train approached from around a tall bluff. It’s “cow-catcher” was rusty with dried blood and the smoke belching out of the stack was smelly with the acidic odor of coal.

  The train squealed against the rails and sighed to a stop in front of the station. Standing up straight and peering between the barrels, Roy watched as a number of people climbed off; men, women, children, and one old granny carrying a caged chicken in each hand. He tried looking for Iris through the windows but smoke and steam obscured his sight. Then his eyes got big and he knelt in the shadows.

  A number of men, two of whom he recognized from Wenatchee, disembarked and stood by the steps as Patrick and Margaret Donnelly made an appearance. Roy watched Donnelly look around and then focus his attention on George Libby as the man scurried up with his hat in his hands.

  Well, I was right! he thought. That son of a bitch is in on things with Donnelly. And to think Iris is on that train with the man who stole her niece. Or is she?

  Roy squinted and saw the conductor get off. Usually the last person to leave, he shook his head in dismay. What in the hell is going on here? he wondered. Where is Iris?

  The passengers were making their way slowly down the street toward the town’s hotel and restaurant. Donnelly and his sister, along with their henchmen, strolled toward the hotel as well while Libby talked a mile a minute about what had happened in town the night before. Roy could hear every word the man said and listened to him jabber until he heard the conductor shout, “Train leaves in one half an hour folks! Better be back here on time or you’ll have to catch the next westbound tomorrow!”

  After the small rush of people disappeared, Roy sat in the shadows, gritting his teeth in rage. Suddenly he understood that the telegraphs Matthew had written had never been sent and he would bet his bottom dollar that Libby’s wife was responsible.

  This meant that Matthew and Dicky were out on their own with no back-up. And he was stuck here with two injured people to care for and Iris had no clue she was needed. So, essentially, there would be no help from the governor, King County, Iris…or anyone.

  Chapter 21

  A Serious Complication

  Roy had a decision to make, but everything hinged on what that skunk Libby had to say to Donnelly about Roy’s presence here in town. Fearing that Donnelly might seize the opportunity to get rid of at least Abner, he scurried across the street and headed toward the sheriff’s office where he had earlier seen Davey sitting at his former boss’s desk.

  Stepping inside, Davey smiled and said, “Good morning, Roy. What can I do for you?”

  “You can go over to Gertie’s house and watch over Abner and Sarah for a bit while I rent a coach. And while you’re there, would you please ask Gertie to make sure those kids are ready to leave at a moment’s notice?”

  Davey looked alarmed. “Why? What’s going on now?”

  Roy shook his head. “The boss of the men who killed your sheriff and his wife just got off the train. I guess he’ll be heading on in to Seattle but I wouldn’t put it past him to eliminate anyone he feels is a threat to his plans. He brought four men with him and I want to make sure they can’t get to Abner or Sarah…or me, for that matter.”

  Davey stood up and Roy saw a remarkable transformation come over the young man’s face. He suddenly looked much older than his years and pissed as hell.

  “Damn them! I’ve had enough. This isn’t some back alley juke-house…this is my hometown! I think I’ll serve an arrest warrant while I’m there.” He reached over, grabbed his hat, a rifle, and was about to leave when Roy stopped him.

  “Deputy, please don’t do that. At least not now as Matthew and I don’t have enough solid proof yet. I fear you’ll just set yourself and your family up as targets and I don’t want to see any of you get hurt. Just stand outside on Gertie’s porch with your star showing, okay? I have a feeling that Donnelly’s boys won’t want to tangle with the law during the light of day. If they do, though, I’ll be right behind you.”

  He nodded and Roy watched as Davey walked down the street and stepped up on Gertie’s front porch. Then he turned and ran to the livery where a man and two boys were shoeing a big gelding by the side of a large barn. As he walked up, Roy saw the horse pin its ears back and nip at the boy who held its halter.

  “Gawd-dangit, Clarence, hold that hoss still!” the man barked.

  “Excuse me but do you have a buggy or a wagon to rent?” Roy called out.

  Wiping sweat from his brow, the man peered at Roy and asked, “Where you fixin’ to go?”

  “I need to get to Spokane as fast as possible. I would wait on tomorrow’s train but my fellow deputy and I are needed back home.” Roy knew he wasn’t making any sense as even the fastest carriage would travel slower than a train. Still, he didn’t want to advertise that he and his company were on the run. The livery owner was no fool though and he scratched his ear thoughtfully.

  “Listen. I got a couple of wagons I would be willing to rent but you would do better, I think, to wait for the eastbound stagecoaches. They’re part of a new outfit out of Seattle. They travel in tandem with six horses each…fastest rigs I’ve ever seen and can almost beat a train when they’re running strong. They should be rolling in about 5:00 and usually travel another fifty miles into the town of Index where there’s a pretty decent hotel.”

  Roy nodded and smiled. “Thank you kindly. I’ll do that.”

  Turning around, he frowned. Sure enough, two of the men he’d seen accompanying the Donnellys stood on the boardwalk in front of the hotel, staring across the street at Davey who glared right back with a belligerent expression on his face.

  Deciding from the stance of both parties that he’d better go give the deputy a hand, Roy walked swiftly up the street. One of Donnelly’s thugs, an older man with silver hair and fancy clothes, was fingering the pistol on his gun belt. Pulling his own revolver, he hollered, “Davey, get inside, if you please!”

  Roy came to a halt, lifted his gun and pointed it in the general direction of Donnelly’s two henchmen. Studying Roy’s face and the easy way he held his firearm, the older man held his hands out from his body. Then Donnelly came out the front door and grinned.

  “Where’s your sheriff this fine afternoon?” he asked.

  Roy glared. “That ain’t none of your damn business!”

  Donnelly shrugged, still grinning. “Well,” he drawled. “I’m sure me and my boys will meet up with him soon.”

  Davey had ignored Roy’s request and stepped up next to him. “I’d like for you and your party to leave my town right now,” he snarled.

  From the expression on Donnelly’s face, Roy figured that a gun ba
ttle was a forgone conclusion. But then the train’s whistle blew and a couple of passengers hurried out of the restaurant, followed closely by three more.

  “Train leaves in five minutes, folks!” the conductor bellowed. “All aboard!”

  Roy glanced toward the locomotive and saw a plume of black smoke rise from the stack as the engineer stoked the boiler for the last pull into Seattle. More customers began filing toward the depot and he saw Donnelly speak to his men, who started walking toward the train. A couple of minutes later—as he and Donnelly stared each other down—Margaret joined her brother.

  Tipping his hat, Patrick Donnelly winked and followed his sister down the road toward the train.

  “…and don’t come back!” Davey yelled at Donnelly’s back.

  Watching as they boarded the train, he asked, “Will you and Matthew stand witness if I call on the King County sheriff to investigate the deaths of my boss and his wife?”

  Although Roy was pissed at the kid for almost getting them into a fight they couldn’t hope to win, he replied, “Yes. Just give us a few days to get things sorted out, okay?”

  “Okay. It’ll be a couple weeks before they make it out here anyway. There’s such a population boom going on in Seattle right now, us smalltime folks are pretty much on our own but once a month when the police commissioner and a few of his deputies show up.”

  All of a sudden they heard a racket at the far end of town just as the train started chugging away from the depot. Staring, Roy saw that two coaches were approaching fast. Piled high with trunks and luggage, he could see faces peering out the window openings.

  Turning to Davey, he said, “I have to get Abner and Sarah on one of those.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some coin and asked, “Could I trouble you to purchase fare for three passengers?”

  “Sure,” Davey said and strode to where the conveyances were skidding to a stop in front of the livery.

  Roy walked back to Gertie’s home, told her what he was doing and enlisted her assistance in gathering up his two charges. He thanked the woman for all her help and scratched a hasty letter just in case Iris did show up after all. Handing the note and some extra cash to Gertie, he shook her hand and took his leave.

 

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