by Ginny Aiken
“There ain’t one blasted thing you can do for your boy right now,” Doc Chalmers said, his voice kind, his expression full of compassion. “Best thing for both of you is for you to keep yourself busy until he wakes. And like I toldja already, pray.”
“But—”
“Go, Pete,” Doc urged. “Go fetch Adam Blair.”
With reluctance in his every move, Peter headed out of the doctor’s office. The sound of the slamming front door echoed through the silent house. At her side, Ned sucked in a breath. Emma shivered, then turned her attention back to the still figure on the table.
“Could I stay here with Robby?” she asked the doctor. “It doesn’t feel right to think of him all alone. He is a little boy.”
He studied her a moment, then nodded. “You come with me, Ned. Let’s fetch the lady a decent chair here. Looks to me like she’s likely to sleep by the boy, and there ain’t a body what will talk her out of it. Might as well get her comfortable, and all.”
Ned opened his jacket, revealing Pippa hidden inside. “Here, Miss Emma. I kept her safe fer ya, but I reckon you’ll want her to keep you company. You and Robby, I mean. He does put a great deal of stock on that little dog of ya’s, doesn’t he?”
Tears filled Emma’s eyes, and she wasn’t sure if they were of gratitude for the young outlaw’s kindness, or of sadness at Robby’s plight, or… or… she didn’t know. And she didn’t dare look too closely at the cause, since she feared it might have more to do with the man who’d just walked out than she wanted it to.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re a good man, Ned. Remember that.”
“Aw, Miss Emma. You don’t know nothing ’bout me—”
“I know enough. It’s you who doesn’t—yet. I’ll be praying for you.”
That made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t argue against prayer. Emma was glad. She would indeed pray for him, and she would insist someone step up to help him before… before she left. A sob broke in her throat at the thought of her imminent departure.
She turned and walked to Robby’s side, her steps halting. How she had come to love this child so much in such a short time, she’d never know, she only knew that she did. And she wanted the best for him. The best would have to start with restored health. She would do anything to help him. She wanted the doctor to know that. And Peter, too.
She cuddled her dog close, seeking comfort, but finding less than she would have thought. Ever since the night Sawyer attacked her, she’d thought of Peter every time she’d needed strength, reassurance, and yes, comfort, as well. A dog didn’t have the same effect, no matter how dear.
It frightened her. She couldn’t come to lean on him, to reach for his solid, dependable presence, even if only from a distance, even if with nothing more than a look. He was beyond her reach.
Besides, even though she’d somehow, inexplicably, failed to keep their engagement at the forefront of her thoughts, Emma was promised to another man. She sighed. Yes, yes, yes. A man she’d only too easily forgotten since the moment the rancher had found her in the woods.
She had to examine that phenomenon.
But she didn’t want to.
The men returned to the office carrying an upholstered chair between them. “Here we are, Miss Emma,” Ned said. “Nice and soft, too. I checked.”
The doctor chuckled. “I’ll have you know, he did just that. Wanted to make sure it was good enough for you, young lady. Even after I assured him it would do quite well.”
As the men left, she settled in, the dog in her arms, a prayer on her lips. In the shadowy dimness of the room, since the doctor considered the lowered lighting better for Robby, the minutes seemed to fly by. Before she thought it possible, the front door opened again. Hushed male voices sounded in the entrance hallway. She heard Peter introduce Ned.
Emma stood and went to join the men.
“… I found her in a cave with the two of them,” Peter was saying as she approached. “Couldn’t leave her and that excuse for a dog of hers where they were, now could I?”
“No,” Emma said, head held high. “You weren’t about to leave me there”
The marshal nodded to her acknowledgment, then turned back to Peter. “You say you caught two of them. Where’s the other man?”
“He’s dead,” Peter said evenly.
The marshal raised a brow.
“Did you tell the marshal what Sawyer tried to do to me? That he…” Emma faltered, afraid she couldn’t go on. But she knew she had to. The law had arrived. It was the right time.
“Someone killed Sawyer out there in the woods,” Peter said before she could speak. “And we don’t know who.”
Chapter 19
In short measure, after filling in the marshal with the briefest of details about the night in question, Peter found himself facing off against Adam Blair, not something a sensible man ever wanted to do.
“I will not have you drag both Colley and Wade away from the camp,” he said, digging in his heels. “I’ve fought with everything I have to get back to where I was before the weather and those blasted grasshoppers nearly ruined me. It looks as though I might turn a profit this fall and pay off the loan to the bank, but only if my flock is in top shape. It’s bad enough for me to be here instead of at the camp, but Robby’s life comes first. My ranch hand and manager won’t be coming down to town until the fall.”
Adam crossed his arms. “I ain’t one to stand between a man and his livelihood, Peter, but you just told me I have to deal with a murder now. You can’t expect me to just sit back and let things go for your convenience, you know. I’ll send my new deputy, John Griffith, on up to your land. I figger he can watch your sheep a coupla days for ya.”
Peter scoffed. “We can barely manage the three of us, and now you’re telling me one lonely lawman’s going to take care of things up at the camp by himself. How long’s he been raising sheep?”
“Well, now, of course, he hasn’t been raising sheep. But all he’d have to do is make sure they don’t go wander off that there meadow of yours, right? I mean, they eat pasture grass, and there’s that pond for water—”
“There’s more to it than watching them graze. And can he shear? All by himself?” Peter asked. “It’s been slow going with all that’s gone on, and we still have a couple of head that need shearing.”
“No, can’t say he can do that, either.”
“Then it’s final. Colley and Wade are staying put.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t see my way clear to spare one of us for bringing Emma to town when I first found her. And the only reason we’re here now”—he glanced at the door to the darkened examination room, then cleared his throat—“the only reason I came to town is Robby. I’d do anything for him.”
He paused as his emotions threatened to break him again, but he called up his determination and stiffened his backbone. “I see no need for you to rush to lock up whoever’s killed Sawyer if it means risking my ranch’s future for it. Sawyer’s dead. Nothing’s going to change that, and it’s been a couple of weeks since he died. It can all wait a while longer. You can try the guilty party in the fall.”
“That isn’t one bit the way the law works—”
“How about this?” Peter offered in a more conciliatory tone. “How about you ride up to the camp and do your questioning there? You could do a decent investigation that way.”
Adam let out a bark of a laugh. “Let me get this straight. You can’t spare your hands, but Bountiful’s supposed to spare the sheriff.”
He shrugged.
The lawman shook his head. “That’s not the way it’s going to be. I can’t leave. It’s my job to protect the town. The law doesn’t wait on you and your needs out to the ranch. This is a murder I have to investigate here.”
“If that’s your final word, then that’s the way it is. If you won’t go up to talk with them, then you can wait until September, seeing as how it’s all waited this long. I can’t—won’t—leave my son, and they won’t be abandoni
ng his future, my life’s work, so as you can ask your questions, either—”
“Gentlemen!” Emma cried out. “I’m certain we can resolve this matter somehow.” She turned to Doc Chalmers, who’d been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his weathered face. “I suspect you know everyone around these parts, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then. You’d be the one to know who might need a job, even if it would only be for a handful of days. Do any strong, reliable men come to mind?”
The doctor rubbed a hand over his bald head. “There’s always folks who could do with some decent work. Only thing is, are they the ones who’ll be willing to do the work.”
Peter coughed. “Now, wait a minute, there—”
“Don’t you go twisting your trousers there, son,” Doc said. “Didn’t say I don’t know any fellows who could do you right. I know me a few. Give me a couple hours to see if they’re available still.”
He didn’t like this plan one bit, but he wasn’t about to leave his son’s side. Neither was he willing to leave his sheep uncared-for. “Let me know what you learn, then.”
“Sure thing, son,” the doctor replied, as he headed back toward Robby. “I reckon Stephen Moore’s two boys are grown enough now and might be wanting to make some extra money. I’ll see if Livvy Whitman knows what they’re up to these days…”
“Seein’ as how Doc fixed that right up,” the sheriff said, “I reckon I better catch me some sleep. I’ll be having me some questions for all three of you soon enough. And as for you”—he turned toward Ned—“you’d best be coming along with me. You and I have us a holdup to talk about.”
Still uneasy, Peter realized there was nothing more he could do. He surrendered to the inevitable, and spoke a brief farewell to the lawman and Ned.
They left, and as soon as the door closed behind them, Emma turned to follow the doctor.
“Thank you,” he said.
She stopped, a puzzled look on her face. “For what?”
“For coming up with a solution there.”
She gave a dismissive wave. “That was nothing, but, of course, you’re welcome. I could see both of you were too intent on your own perspective to find a way out of the situation. I just made a simple suggestion.”
“But it worked. So, I take my hat off to you.” He mimicked the motion although hatless.
She gave a quick bob of her head and smiled. “You’re quite welcome, Peter. I’m thankful I could be of help.”
With that she turned back toward Robby, and the flurry of emotions that had stormed him out on the yard by the cabin returned. Who would have thought that first night that Miss Emma Crowell had it in her?
Not he.
It was no wonder she continued to surprise him on a regular basis. He was learning every day how much more there was to Emma than he’d first thought.
“Well,” Adam Blair said a few days later as he sat in the Chalmers’s tidy parlor, palms spread out on his knees. “I need me many more answers than I’m getting here. Don’t figger any one of us is going anywhere until I get ’em, either.”
Peter frowned. They had been talking for well over an hour, maybe two. “I need to see my son.”
Adam shrugged. “Boy’s in the other room. That’s the reason I decided to do this here at Doc’s place. So’s you could look after your boy. Go ahead. Take some minutes to do what you must. We can all have us a drink of water, I reckon. I’m parched from talking so much.”
“Interrogatin’s what I’d call it,” Colley muttered under her breath.
Peter shot his manager a warning look.
She lifted a shoulder, but appeared unrepentant.
Mrs. Chalmers, as tall and thin as her husband was plump and short of stature, walked in with a tray of glasses and a pitcher of water in her hands. Emma, Colley, Wade, Peter, and Ned all hurried to help themselves. Adam waited until all were served before taking the last glass.
Once the thirst was slaked all around, and Peter was satisfied that Robby’s condition hadn’t worsened, even if it hadn’t improved, Adam went back to business. From the way he shot question after question at Ned, Wade, Colley, and himself, Peter gathered the marshal was trying to narrow the field of those he considered suspects. Clearly, the man didn’t think Emma had done the dreadful deed.
Neither did Peter.
Then again, he didn’t see either of his employees harming another soul, and he knew he hadn’t killed anyone.
Before Peter knew what had happened, Adam aimed his questions almost exclusively at Emma. At one point, she fell silent. The room’s thick hush became awkward, uncomfortable. Adam did nothing to change the atmosphere, and Peter felt like shifting in his chair. He refrained.
Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on her face. Her expression made clear she was thinking back over the events of that awful night.
“It’s occurred to me,” she said after a bit, her voice quiet and thoughtful, “there are others we haven’t considered as possible culprits.”
“Really, now?” Adam leaned forward. “Do go on and tell me what you mean, Miss Crowell.”
She met his gaze with a direct look, no hint of avoidance or trickery in her expression, just concentration and intensity. “Well, sir,” she said. “Ned and Sawyer weren’t alone when they held up the carriage. From what I understand, they’d been rustling alongside two accomplices, who were with them at the hold-up. I never saw those men, since I was in the woods attending to my dog. By the time I came back to where the carriage had been before, they had evidently run off with the spoils of their crime. I only heard Ned and Sawyer talk about their partners.”
Hope rose in Peter.
“Accomplices, you say?” Adam asked.
Ned bounded up from his chair before Emma could answer. “Oh, yessir! Wouldn’t surprise me none if they come back and kilt Sawyer. They told us they’d be back, and they weren’t too friendly-like with Sawyer. Why, even a bothered rattler’s friendlier’n the two of ’em.”
“Who are the two?” Adam asked Emma.
“Why, I don’t know, sir. I never did meet them. You’ll have to ask Ned.”
Adam turned to the young outlaw. “Who are these men, Ned?”
“Tobias and Dwight, Mr. Marshal.”
The lawman narrowed his eyes. “Do you mean Hal Tobias and Dwight Smith?”
Ned shrugged. “I reckon that’s their names, sir. Always heered ’em called Tobias and Dwight. One of ’em’s tall and black-haired. Right big hulking fella, he is. An’ th’other one’s stumpy, an’ limps right bad on one leg. One of his eyes turns right to the corner, too. Looks right odd.”
“Sounds just like the two fellas I have me down to the jail right now,” Adam said. “Neither one of ’em coulda done it. They been locked up since two days after the holdup. They tried to rob the Bank of Bountiful. Didn’t get nowhere right quick, I tell you.”
The lawman returned his attention to Emma, asking her the same questions over and over again. Each time he shot one at her, his voice grew sharper, more convicting. The urge to protect her hit Peter hard.
“She swooned, Adam,” he said, struggling to keep his voice as calm and even as possible. “She was laid out cold on the ground. She couldn’t have seen what happened to that swine.”
“Swine, huh?” the marshal said, his steady stare now on Peter.
He opened and closed his fists, trying to keep his wits about him. “What else do you want me to call a man who’d do what he tried to do to her?”
Adam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes narrowed and fixed on Peter. “Tell me again everything you can remember about that day. And I do mean everything, Peter.”
With all the patience he could muster, Peter started at the beginning and went straight through to the end. When he was done, Adam came at him with more of his pointed, irksome, and repetitive questions.
“What started the argument between you and Miss Crowell?” Adam asked.
Peter called on all his patience. “Birth of a lamb.”
Adam slapped his small notebook against his thigh. “What did you do when she ran off?”
Apprehension tightened Peter’s middle. “Ran off right after her, once I was sure Colley had everything under control at the barn.”
“How long did it take you to find her?”
He looked at the graceful walnut clock on the fireplace mantel to his right. “Felt like years, but I didn’t think to stop and check a pocket watch.”
Adam tapped his notebook with a pencil. “What did you do when you did find her?”
“Grabbed Sawyer by the collar and pulled him off her.”
“All right, then. What exactly did you see when you first walked up?”
The image burst into his memory, kicking up the quality of his anger. “That animal was attacking her, Adam. He was sprawled out all over her body, wriggling himself against her, being indecent, trying to… well, you understand.”
The lawman scribbled. “What did you hear?”
He remembered her fear. “She was scared and crying, and he was… was breathing hard, and grunting.”
“What did you say to Sawyer?”
Peter frowned. “Don’t know that I can remember whether I said anything.”
Adam looked up from his notes. “What did he say to you?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know if he said anything, either.”
“Who was with you?”
Peter gestured toward the two other men in the room. “Wade and Ned were somewhere near in the woods looking for her, too.”
“What did Miss Crowell do when you found her?”
He couldn’t bear to look at her right then. “She wept. What did you want her to do, Adam? She was scared. She’d been attacked.”
“When did she swoon? When did she come to? How did she look?”
Peter’s patience began to fade away. “Aw, Adam. I’ve told you all this over and over again. It’s not getting us any farther ahead than when we started.”
Adam looked up, met his gaze. “I have me my reasons. Just answer, Peter. It’s best if you do.”
He let out a frustrated burst of breath. “I’m not sure. It all becomes a blur after I grabbed Sawyer.”