“Now that we’ve got that little misunderstanding cleared away, let me look at you,” Myra said, apparently putting the attempt to abduct Victoria out of her mind just like it never existed. She subjected Victoria to a thorough inspection. “You haven’t wasted these five years” she said, a trace of jealousy in her tone. “You have grown into an extraordinarily beautiful woman.”
“Never as beautiful as you,” Victoria said. “You’ve got to be the most beautiful woman in the world.” The tribute obviously pleased Myra. The sharp look left her eyes.
“I couldn’t believe you had come back to Bandera, not after the abominable way they treated you, but I was horrified you should have to spend the night in this cesspool.”
“I—”
“I can’t imagine what charge this fool has placed against you, but I’m certain it can be explained in no time.”
“You don’t have to—”
“You should have seen my face when Kirby told me you were in the Bandera jail.”
Kirby had just entered the jail. He stood behind his mother. Now that Victoria could get a good look at him, she saw he had grown into an extremely handsome young man, almost as handsome as his mother was beautiful. But he looked shocked, colorless, like he didn’t know what to say or do. He just stood there, staring at Victoria like his mind was paralyzed. She hoped Myra had given him a piece of her mind for his dangerous prank. If Trinity had been home, he could have gotten himself killed.
“You must leave this horrid place at once” Myra said. “I shudder when I think of you staying here, and your room at home empty all these years.”
“I couldn’t possibly go to the ranch,” Victoria insisted, finding her tongue. The Judge wouldn’t allow it.”
“He won’t know. I left him in Austin to spend several days hunting with his friends.” Myra shuddered artistically. “I hate blood sports. It’s embarrassing to have to admit, but I faint at the sight of blood. Tell her she must come with us, Kirby,” Myra said, turning to her son. “Maybe you can convince her.”
Victoria saw horror in the boy’s eyes. He’s mortified to have to look me in the eye after what he’s done she thought. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. He also knows it would be crazy to go back to the Tumbling T. The Judge would go berserk.
“I’ve got to stay here,” Victoria said. “Trinity’s gone to find Chalk Gillet, He said that once I prove I didn’t kill Jeb, the real killer might try to kill me. He said I’d be safest in the jail.”
“How horrible,” Myra said. The most awful things seem to happen to you. You must tell me if you have any idea who this killer might be. I’ll see the sheriff arrests him this instant.”
“I’ve thought about it for five years, and I can’t imagine who could have killed jeb.”
“You don’t have to have hard evidence,” Myra insisted. “Just tell me who you suspect. I’ll see they stay in jail until the Judge can get back.”
“I don’t even have any suspicions.”
“Does this Trinity Smith have any?”
“No, he’s only concerned with finding Chalk.”
That could take days, possibly weeks,” Myra said. “You can’t mean to stay here all that time.”
“I didn’t want to stay here even one night, but Trinity said he’d be back in a couple of days. And Trinity always does what he promises.”
“You think a lot of this Trinity, don’t you?” Myra observed.
The suggestion that she might be more than ordinarily interested in Trinity flustered Victoria just enough to cause her to miss the slight change in Myra’s tone.
“I suppose it’s foolish to be impressed with the man who brings you back to hang, but Trinity is no ordinary man. He promised he’d prove I didn’t kill Jeb, and he will.”
“Well, I’m overjoyed to hear that,” Myra declared. “I’ve always insisted you couldn’t have killed Jeb. You just aren’t the kind of person to shoot anybody, much less your husband. Now let me take you home.”
“No. I really can’t,” Victoria insisted. “I’d be a nervous wreck, knowing me Judge still thinks I murdered his son.”
Then come with me to the hotel. I’ll rent a room and you can stay with me until this Trinity person gets back with Chalk Gillet.”
“Thank you so very much, but I can’t.”
“Really, Victoria, it’s rather bad of you to insist upon remaining in this deplorable place.”
“I don’t mind, not really.”
“Then if you won’t think of yourself, at least think of me. How can I endure the shame of knowing my own daughter-in-law is in jail?”
“You endured it before,” Victoria said, rather too bluntly for Myra, whose eyes grew hard as agate.
“I always insisted you were innocent.”
“I know, and I’ll be forever grateful, but I have to stay here. Trinity made me swear.”
Myra was clearly furious. Victoria knew she was accustomed to getting her way, even in little things, but she didn’t mean to budge. She might have if Kirby hadn’t come to the ranch after her. He looked petrified, like he expected some terrible punishment any minute, but Victoria was no longer interested in Myra or her son. She just wanted Trinity to come back and fix everything.
“I trust you know I shall not forgive you for this,” Myra stated in her most majestic manner. “It’s humiliating.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“At least let me bring you something decent to eat,” Myra said, relenting slightly. “You can’t possibly survive on the garbage this man will give you. That way I shall at least appear to be concerned about my own family”
“I’d be delighted to let you bring me food,” Victoria said, truly grateful for Myra’s thoughtfulness. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been forced to eat during the last few weeks.”
“Don’t tell me,” Myra said, shuddering eloquently. “You will surely ruin my own appetite. I will send for my cook immediately. I can’t eat anything the hotel prepares anyway. Are you absolutely certain you won’t come with me?”
“I really can’t,” Victoria said, hoping Myra wouldn’t ask her again. She would dearly love to say yes. The thought of a decent bed, a hot bath, and getting away from the smell of her cell was almost too much for her resolution.
“It is too bad you won’t come with me, but I shall see you are made more comfortable,” Myra promised. “It will not be said that a member of the Blazer family has to live like a pig. Come with me,” she said to the sheriff as she turned to go. “You will do exactly as I say, or tomorrow morning you will be chasing cows through the brush.”
“Hello, Kirby,” Victoria said to the boy before he could follow his mother from the jail. “You’ve grown up since I last saw you. I bet the girls are glad when you come to town.”
“I think it’s rotten you have to stay in jail,” he managed to say before he hurried after his mother.
Victoria didn’t remember the boy being so bashful. He looked petrified, like he wanted to run and hide. Myra probably kept him tied to her apron strings. She was a managing female. Maybe she would invite him to come visit her and Trinity after she got out of jail. It would give him a chance to get away from his mother and develop a little self-confidence.
Victoria had to smile at herself. Wouldn’t Trinity be surprised to know she’d not only decided he was going to marry her and they would live at the Demon D, she was already making a list of people to invite to stay. But she knew he wouldn’t mind. Besides, it would help keep his mind off Queenie.
She sat down on the bunk. She ought to be thinking about what she could do to help him get over Queenie and his guilt about his father’s death. His father was dead, and nothing would bring him back. He had no idea where Queenie had disappeared to, not that Victoria could see any advantage to learning Queenie’s whereabouts. In fact, knowing where she was would be just about the worst thing she could think of for Trinity.
Maybe she would ask Myra. She had had a great deal more experie
nce with men. Maybe she would know what to do. At the least, maybe she could offer some advice on how to begin.
Victoria yawned sleepily when Sheriff Sprague interrupted her afternoon nap. Everyone seemed in league to keep her from catching up on her rest.
“There’s a visitor to see you. Says he’s a lawyer. Says your uncle hired him.”
Victoria stared curiously at the man. He seemed awfully young to be a lawyer, very clean-cut, his dark suit and boots showing no signs of the dust which always choked the streets of Bandera in the summer. Even his white shirt retained its crispness despite the heat.
In his turn, the young man stared at Victoria’s cell. It had been completely transformed.
A brass bed piled high with feather mattresses took up almost all the room in the cell. There was only a narrow passage between the bed and a pile of boxes stacked against the opposite wall, each contained a dress Victoria could no longer wear. A thick rug covered the floor, and sheer curtains billowed at the windows. A small table with a lamp, a pitcher and basin, and the dishes with the remains of her last meal stood next to the bed. The sheriff was quick to remove the dishes.
“Sheriff Sprague tells me you insist upon remaining in jail,” the man said. “I confess I couldn’t understand why until now. This must be what the inside of a Turkish harem looks like.”
Victoria chuckled delightedly. “My stepmother-in-law’s attempt to salve her conscience.” She extended her hand. “I’m Victoria Davidge.”
“David Woolridge at your service,” he said, executing a courtly bow.
“Please sit,” Victoria said, chuckling again. “And please, no more bows or remarks about harems. You’ll shock the local matrons, not to mention Myra.”
Woolridge seated himself in a chair which had been squeezed into the tiny space between the table and a stack of dress boxes.
“How is my uncle? And Buc?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know. He communicated with our office in Austin by telegram. I live in San Antonio, so I was chosen to take on your case.”
“What have you done?”
“Very little as yet. I’ve only been here a few days, but it seemed most important to get a stay of execution. Once we have that, I’ll have the leisure to investigate the evidence in the case more closely.”
Victoria held her breath. “Did you get it?”
“There are quite a few irregularities involved with this case, not the least of which is the dead man’s father acting as the presiding judge.”
“Did you get it?” Victoria demanded, impatient with his tedious narration.
“My office informs me the order has been signed.”
Victoria felt weak with relief.
“I should be receiving the official papers in a day or two. There’s really no reason for you to stay in this cell any longer.”
Victoria was overjoyed to find the shadow of the gallows no longer loomed over her head, but half her pleasure was denied because none of the people she most wanted to share the news with—Trinity, Uncle Grant, Buc, and all the men at the ranch—were here. Of course, she would tell Myra, but she wondered whether Myra was more upset or embarrassed by her daughter-in-law being in jail. Oh well, it didn’t matter. She could leave now.
But where would she go? She didn’t want to go back to the ranch without Trinity. She didn’t want to go to the hotel with Myra. She couldn’t go to the ranch with the Judge. But she couldn’t go anywhere else.
“I think I’ll stay here until Trinity gets back.”
“There really is no need. You’re in no danger.”
But Victoria wasn’t convinced of that. She didn’t know what the killer might do, but she’d be happier letting Trinity worry about that.
“Nevertheless, I’ll stay where I am.”
Mr. Woolridge looked about him and his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You’re probably more comfortable here than I am at the hotel.”
“And I don’t have to worry about visitors or social engagements.”
Woolridge stood. “I understand you had an eventful night. I’ll let you get back to your nap. I wish you had let me know you were in the area.”
“I didn’t know you were in the area,” Victoria replied. “Besides, I had meant to stay safely out of sight.”
“It would have been better.”
“Tell that to Kirby.”
“I’ve already met the young man. He seems to be thoroughly abashed at his conduct.”
“He ought to be.” Victoria couldn’t be angry any longer. She was too happy.
“A Pinkerton will be arriving any day now. He’ll probably want to talk with you.”
“You know where to find me. At the moment, my engagement calendar is entirely empty.”
“I’ll see what I can do to remedy that in the future.”
“I already have.”
Mr. Woolridge looked inquiringly at Victoria, but she declined to enlighten him. It was her secret, and she wanted to keep it to herself a little longer.
Kirby rushed past Sheriff Sprague and skidded to a stop in front of Victoria’s cell. He stared in stunned surprise through the bars. Victoria lay on the bed, her body racked by convulsions.
“What’s wrong with her?” Kirby demanded, staring at her with horror-stricken eyes.
“I don’t know,” Sheriff Sprague replied, abject fear in his voice. “She took sick just a few minutes ago. She’s been moaning something awful ever since. Every time I ask her what’s wrong, she groans even louder and gets sick all over again. What am I supposed to do? We can’t have her making all those terrible sounds. Sounds worse than if the jail was haunted.”
“Have you sent for the doctor?”
“He’s away.”
“I’ll get mother. She’ll know what to do.”
“I don’t know what caused it,” the sheriff insisted. “Maybe she’s had a heatstroke or something. It’s right hot back here in these cells.”
“You better hope that’s it,” Kirby replied, “If she dies, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Trinity was real irritated at Ward, at Kirby Blazer, at Sheriff Sprague, and at himself. He was particularly irritated with Chalk Gillet. If he could have gotten his hands on that spineless coward just now, Chalk would have had two smashed wrists to complain about.
Because of Chalk Gillet he’d been away too long and Victoria had ended up in the Bandera jail.
Ward’s disgust and shame with his own performance had prevented Trinity from working off more than a fraction of his temper on his foreman, but he was spoiling to smash something or anybody who crossed his path.
But it seemed the citizens of Bandera were in league to continue his frustration. The hot afternoon sun had driven them off the dusty streets. Even the benches on the hotel porch and the chairs set out under awnings by merchants were empty.
The town of Bandera had developed in sections. Mexicans shared the southern portion with the saloons and dance halls, frequented mostly by gamblers, cowhands, and people who didn’t want their identity or location known. The commercial district lay north of that along the main street. Behind that and along the edge of town were the homes of the merchants, prominent citizens, and some of the cowmen prosperous enough to have a house in town.
The jail straddled the line between the merchants and the saloon keepers.
Trinity was even more irritated when he walked inside and found no one there. Victoria was not to be left unguarded, not even for one second. The sooner Wylie Sprague understood that, the better. Trinity headed to the back of the jail toward the cells.
He almost burst out laughing when he saw the bed piled high with mattresses and pillows and the boxes of clothes, even the door was open. The sheriff was using his head. Giving Victoria the run of the jail as well as every possible luxury was good insurance for later. No one would be able to say he hadn’t given an innocent woman every possible consideration.
The cell was empty. Damn, that was g
oing too far. What good was it to put Victoria in jail if she had the run of Bandera? That was no protection. Judge Blazer could have her picked up off the street, and he wouldn’t send boys to do it.
On his way out again, Trinity nearly collided with Sheriff Sprague.
“What kind of jackleg sheriff are you, letting your prisoners go gallivanting all over town?” Trinity groused. “Victoria should be here where you can keep an eye on her, not prancing about in some dress shop or visiting friends. Where the hell is she?”
The sheriff’s mouth opened, but he uttered nothing more than a few strangled syllables.
“Speak up, man. I’ve got Gillet’s confession and a stay of execution in my pocket. She’s a free woman. For the first time in five years she can go anywhere she wants, do anything she likes.”
“S-she’s at the h-hotel,” the sheriff managed to stammer.
“Why did you let her go there? Anything could have happened to her. Some damned fool sheriff you are.”
“She’s sick. Myra Blazer put her in her own room.”
“What’s wrong? Did she get a queasy stomach from eating the swill you serve in this place?”
“Myra doesn’t know what’s wrong.”
Trinity had never had any respect for Sheriff Sprague, but the man’s near panic finally penetrated his scorn and irritation.
“What happened? What did you feed her?”
“Nothing. She gets her food from the hotel.”
Fear such as he had never known seized Trinity’s guts and twisted them into an agonizing knot. He grabbed Sprague by the front of his shirt and shook him so hard buttons flew off and seams ripped.
“What’s wrong with her? Tell me, you goddamned sniveling coward.”
“I don’t know. She just took sick about thirty minutes ago.”
“What have you done for her?”
“I didn’t know what to do. That’s why I sent for Kirby.”
“Is she okay? Is she better?”
“She’s dying. She’ll probably be dead by the time you get there.”
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