The Lawman's Bride (Harlequin Historical Series)

by Cheryl St. John

  Without another word he crossed the room, picked up his hat and left.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Clay stabled his horse and strode the block and a half to the jail. Across the street the bricklayers had finished and hammers rang as carpenters worked on the roof.

  It was perfectly believable that Sophie had been there the night of the fire. The blaze could have started in any number of ways. A spark from the stove, a cigarette tossed by a careless passerby. He’d even considered the possibility that DeWeise had a partner or friend who’d lit it as a distraction. That would have been a pretty risky thing to do. Stupid, considering DeWeise would have cooked in there if Sophie hadn’t let him out.

  It made more sense that someone had picked the lock to get in earlier, then turned around to free the man from a horrible death. Why would she lie about that?

  Why not? Apparently she’d been lying about a lot of things for a good many years, and she’d lied through her teeth since she’d met him.

  When he really applied his mind to the facts about Sophie, they all came together to form a kind of warped logic, however. If she had come to Newton to start over, she would have been forced to make up a suitable background and create enough references to get her by. Then one lie led to another until she’d been buried under a mountain of them.

  It was perfectly conceivable that she’d be ashamed of what had happened to her, of what Garrett had turned her into. The way she’d told him, the look on her face testified to her humiliation. If Clay had let himself believe all of it at once, he couldn’t have let Garrett draw another breath. Clay might be a lawman but he was flesh and blood, human, fallible. Mad as hell.

  She’d been right to stop him from acting on his gut reaction. Without proof of the man’s identity or of his crimes Clay could have killed him and been arrested himself. He had to take a step back, as impossible as that seemed, and do his job. He couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that this might be another of her well-substantiated lies.

  After entering the stifling building, he left the door standing wide open. There was a large envelope lying on his desk. He read his name and ripped it open to unfold a stack of posters.

  He studied ink drawings which had been duplicated on a printing press. The names were the same as those he’d read on the telegrams. Clay pulled those from his pocket and compared.

  The poster from Denver was a drawing depicting a bald man with a mustache. When Clay covered the top of the man’s head with another paper, the eyes were Monte Morgan’s. Sophie’s claim hadn’t really surprised him. He’d had a gut reaction to the man the first time he’d seen him. He just wished he’d been more convinced before he’d seen this proof.

  Gabriella Dumont was another matter. He’d never suspected Sophie was anything other than who she claimed to be. Yes, there had been little things that he’d excused or overlooked now that he thought of it, but swallowing all of this at once was difficult. The artist had drawn the young woman as a beauty. The dark eyes were difficult to conceal, but her hair was different. Clay laid the pictures out on the floor and took a couple steps back to glance at them from another perspective.

  Recognition was unmistakable. Without a doubt Gabriella Dumont was Sophie Hollis. Fugitive from the law.

  Confidence shark.

  Accomplice to murder.

  Was he once again falling for a story? Had she been a willing partner? Her lack of emotion when she shared those things that she’d supposedly endured made her seem cold or insincere…or what? Definitely detached. Was that how she survived? How she kept her heart and her head from being torn apart? How did he know for sure she hadn’t been a willing partner in those crimes? She could be playing a part in a long line of cons. But to what purpose?

  If she’d wanted to convince Clay of a lie, she was an accomplished actress. She could have feigned a display of emotion to draw his pity. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t asked for or expected any sympathy.

  But he credited himself with being a good judge of character, and he’d never had the least suspicion she wasn’t who she claimed. She’d matter-of-factly wanted to tell him those things—first so he wouldn’t be shocked or disappointed in her lack of innocence, and later because she thought she needed to protect him and Amanda.

  Amanda did need protection, that was for sure. Clay could take care of himself.

  The proof was right in front of him; he had to believe this final story. But what was he going to do about it? Arrest them both and let them be taken back to Colorado for trial? He wouldn’t have any control over the situation, and she could be sentenced and…hung. He’d seen men hung, and it was a disturbing practice. His imagination wanted to soar and picture Sophie with a noose lowering around her neck, but he banished those dark thoughts from his head.

  Sophie had revealed Garrett for what he was. She’d given Clay everything he needed to set up the man. Catching him red-handed in one of his schemes would be rewarding. If Clay wanted to do that, how much more must Sophie want to see it happen?

  Judging by the dates on some of those papers, she’d been a child when Garrett had gotten her in his clutches. Would a judge and jury see that she’d been too young and too afraid, that she’d feared for her life if she hadn’t gone along?

  He would check into her story of making restitution in several of those cases. That would go a long way to show her good intent.

  Clay hadn’t wanted to believe her involvement because he’d fallen for her. He couldn’t deny her confession and this proof, but he couldn’t arrest Garrett without arresting her, too. He imagined putting her in a cell himself, and his gut clenched.

  He couldn’t let either of them go free, but neither could he risk the chance that she might fall into Garrett’s clutches again. She’d have no choice but to go back to what she’d been before.

  He was being ripped in two different directions. His thoughts had jumped around so much he didn’t know what was logic anymore. Guilty and playing him? Innocent and needing him? Neither. Both. It all came down to the fact that he wanted to believe her. He had to.

  She had a crazy plan. A plan to catch Garrett red-handed. If Clay caught him in a crime right here in his town, he’d have more authority to influence Sophie’s fate before the law.

  And Sophie could prove herself by helping trap the man. Maybe her assistance would keep her from being tried and convicted in Colorado.

  Clay picked up the posters, buried them along with the telegrams in his desk drawer and headed back out.

  What choice did he have really? He loved her. He would never look at the world or meet a day without wanting to share it with Sophie. He would go along with her plan. Now he had telegrams of his own to send.

  Sophie was going to try the same tactic with Amanda that she’d used with Clay. Proof. She feared the girl would refuse to speak with her, but she sent a note with a young boy and waited at a table inside the front window of Almira Wheeler’s cozy pastry shop where tea was served of an evening.

  She remembered the schedule well enough to know Amanda would be finished with her duties for the day. At six the blonde stepped through the doorway and glanced around.

  Sophie waved to her, and, without a smile, Amanda joined her at a table.

  “Thank you for coming. I didn’t know if you would.”

  Amanda didn’t say anything. She looked uncomfortable being there and didn’t meet Sophie’s eyes.

  “I guess you were just curious about what I wanted.”

  Amanda’s gaze finally rose, and Sophie recognized hurt and betrayal. “I’m hoping you want to apologize.”

  Sophie took a breath. “All I ask is that you listen.” She took posters from her reticule and flattened them out on the tabletop. “I know you don’t want to believe me. I understand. Garrett is convincing and can be as charming and attentive as he needs to be. But this is him.”

  She pointed to the wanted papers she’d received that day. “And this is me.”

  Amanda looked from the drawings to
Sophie’s face with disbelief.

  “I’m not going to ask you to forgive me or beg you to understand and be my friend. I’m pleading with you to spare yourself any further danger.”

  She gave Amanda a brief explanation of how she’d come to know Garrett and the way he’d controlled her. Amanda needed to know enough so that she would believe he was dangerous and that her safety was at risk.

  Amanda’s expression showed that the explanation was sinking in and making sense. She raised her fingers to her temple and rubbed as though the thought process gave her a headache. “This is so hard to believe.”

  “I know. All I want is for you to be safe, and you’re not safe while he’s still here.”

  “So you traveled with Monte? Ever since you were how old?”

  “About eleven or twelve,” Sophie answered.

  “He took care of you?”

  “I ate well, had nice clothing, studied with tutors if that’s what you mean. He never behaved like a parent. I was like a dog trained to fight or a horse raised to win races. I was like a pet who made money for him.”

  Amanda was obviously taking it all in. “Are you turning yourself in so that he’ll be caught?” she asked.

  Maybe down deep Amanda had suspected that Sophie was telling the truth, but she hadn’t been able to accept it. “I’ve already confessed everything to the marshal,” Sophie told her. “I want to set a trap to catch Garrett, but you have to be gone. You can travel free, and Mr. Webb knows you’ve been waiting to go to your cousin Winnie when her baby comes. He’ll accommodate you taking a leave to see your family. I know he will.”

  “I’ve been hoping to hear something any day,” Amanda said, the subject distracting her.

  “You didn’t go early because you couldn’t afford to lose the pay.” Sophie took an envelope from her reticule. “Take this. Don’t worry, it’s not stolen, it’s the money I earned giving dance lessons. You’ve sent most of your pay home, and I’ve been saving mine. I won’t need it where I’m going.”

  Amanda frowned and then recognition dawned. She blinked in surprise. “You’re going to jail?”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Amanda stared at the envelope. Tears welled in her eyes. “This is all true, Sophie? You weren’t trying to get Monte for yourself?”

  “His name isn’t Monte,” she replied. “You don’t have any reason to trust that I wouldn’t do something like that to you. But he has an evil heart and you have to trust me on that for your own good. I’ve wanted nothing more than to get away from him since I was twelve years old.” She covered Amanda’s hand on the table. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing him because we made a deal, but if you do, you mustn’t tell him you know anything or that I told you.”

  “I’m going to talk with Mr. Webb as soon as I get back to the Arcade,” Amanda said. “I’ll get my ticket and be out of here by tomorrow.”

  Sophie felt as though a boulder had been lifted away from her.

  Amanda raised her hand to squeeze Sophie’s. “I’m sorry I got so angry.”

  Sophie shook her head. “No apologies. I would have been thinking the same way if I’d been in your place. Don’t sell yourself short, Amanda. You’re going to meet someone deserving of you.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I feel so stupid. What’s wrong with me to get caught up with a phony like him?”

  “There’s nothing stupid about you,” Sophie assured her. “He’s a master at using people. You want to be loved and needed, and he zeroed right in on that need. He’s good at what he does, so don’t ever think differently or feel like it was your fault. It wasn’t.”

  Amanda took a lace-edged handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes and nose.

  They ordered cups of tea and Amanda filled her in on the latest gossip and shared details about Mrs. Winters’s cranky attitude the last few days. Finally, Amanda gave Sophie a hug. As though reluctant to let go, she held Sophie’s hand as she backed away, then released her and headed back to the Arcade.

  A burden had been lifted, but there was much to happen yet. She couldn’t imagine where she’d be six months from now. The thought was daunting…frightening. But she had her mind set to do the right thing from here on out. She intended to enjoy her last days of freedom and see Garrett get what he deserved.

  That evening most of the lights in the buildings along Main Street had been extinguished, but several remained bright. Late guests were arriving at a hotel across the street, and Sophie enjoyed her new vantage point from her window. She could still hear the train whistles and the bursts of steam as the engines halted in front of the depot, but she couldn’t see the crowds or hear the voices.

  She’d enjoyed another quiet dinner alone in the hotel dining room. The manager and the staff treated her well. A man in a gray serge suit had asked if he could join her for dinner, but she’d politely declined.

  Telling Clay the whole truth and withstanding his reaction had been a torturous mix of relief and disappointment. Either he refused to believe her or he was angry with her. Or both. Since she hadn’t seen or heard from him, he was obviously disappointed. And disgusted. His hasty rejection hurt, but she understood.

  She didn’t have many choices left. She’d taken her best shot in confiding in him and coming up with a plan. She was finished lying and she was done running. After tomorrow Amanda would be safely out of Newton, so if Sophie didn’t hear from Clay by then, she would go to the jail and turn herself in to Marshal Vidlak.

  Garrett would be their problem after that. She’d be tucked away in a cell. She’d never allowed herself all these raw emotions before. She’d never dealt with feelings. Even though she’d been alone for most of her life, she was now experiencing loneliness in a new and acute way. Sophie needed someone to talk with.

  Pulling on her walking shoes, she exited her room and locked the door. It was a fair distance to the doctor’s home, but she remembered the streets and enjoyed the walk. Lights shone from the windows of the two-story house as she approached. The home, she corrected. The sound of a child’s laughter reached her and found a place inside that remembered family. Dredged up a long-lost feeling of security.

  It had been many years since she’d felt safe. Never once since the day she and her mother had been captured.

  She’d never felt more like an outsider than she did standing at the gate in front of the Chaney home. She didn’t know what she’d come here for. There was no magic cure for what ailed her.

  “Hey! Miss Hollis!” Out of the darkness, a small figure dashed from beside the house and ran to where she stood. She recognized Ellie Chaney’s youngest brother as he drew close holding a jar filled with flickering lightning bugs. “I ’member you. Come in. Ellie will be glad to see you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to bother her. I was just out walking.”

  “At night? C’mon. She made cinnamon buns today.”

  She let him lead her toward the house and up the porch stairs. He set down his jar, then opened the screen door with a creak of hinges.

  “Ellie! Miss Hollis is here!”

  The doctor’s wife entered the foyer from the comfortably furnished room at front of the house. “Sophie! How nice to see you. Please, come in.”

  “I was just out walking. I don’t want to interrupt your evening.”

  “Don’t be silly. Come in and have a seat.” Behind her the doctor was playing on the carpeted floor with the baby. He called a greeting to her.

  “Hello, Dr. Chaney,” she said, then more softly to Ellie, “Really, I was just passing by.”

  Ellie touched her arm. “Don’t move. Stay right there.”

  She spoke to her husband a moment, then took Ellie’s arm and led her out the front door and around the side of the house.

  In the darkness, Sophie made out a wooden swing on a frame in the side yard.

  “Have a seat,” Ellie told her.

  Sophie sat and Ellie perched beside her before setting the swing in motion.

  “Did
everything work out all right at the Arcade?” Ellie asked.

  “I got myself fired.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “On purpose.”

  “Why?” Ellie’s question held a note of compassion.

  “It’s quite a long story. And it probably doesn’t have a happy ending.”

  “Caleb will put the children to bed. You have my undivided attention. I promise you can’t shock me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Your hair might stand on end.”

  “Sophie.” Ellie took a deep breath. “My mother was a drunk and a prostitute. We lived in a shack with no heat. My brothers and I had no clothing or food except what we stole or the church ladies gave us. After Flynn was born whenever my mother had a baby, she buried it. Once I saw a dog dig one up.”

  Sophie stared at the other woman. “Oh, Ellie.”

  “Still think you can shock me? I can’t remember how old I was when my mother took money to let a man have sex with me.”

  Sophie felt the helpless urge to cry.

  “When I found out I was pregnant I tried to hide it from her. I gave birth to a baby girl alone and was terrified for her life. I ran out in the night and left her on a back porch. I stayed hidden until the couple came to the door and I saw them take her in.”

  Sophie’s chest ached and tears welled in her throat.

  “When my mother died, I tried to take care of the boys, but the state took them and put them in a foster home where they suffered another kind of abuse.”

  “What happened?” Sophie managed.

  “I got a job as a Harvey Girl to earn enough to get them back and take care of them, but I broke my arm and couldn’t work. Caleb doctored me and asked me to take care of Nate. Caleb was recently widowed. He taught me to trust. He showed me love and care, but it took a long time. My past was a wall around my heart. He even took me to see my little girl so I’d know she was happy and well-cared for.”

  “And she is?”