by Anna Schmidt
Seth took a step forward. “Now Sheriff, no need to deny Dr. Porterfield the right to see her patients. I just came along to accompany her and her sister-in-law here and back. If you prefer, you and I can wait outside while the ladies—”
“I can’t stop the doctor, but this girlie is not coming into my jail. And neither are you, stranger.”
Amanda’s heart lurched when Addie clenched her fists and climbed the rest of the steps so she stood toe to toe with the sheriff. She could not believe her friend’s courage. After all, it was Sheriff Richter who had once arrested Addie and taken her to this very jail. Addie’s refusal to be cowed by this man made Amanda want to stand up for something—to stand up for something she believed in passionately.
Without hesitating, she took her place next to Addie and said, “We haven’t met, sir. I am the tutor Mr. Baxter hired. Dr. Porterfield is my sister-in-law, and because she has duties she must attend to in Whitman Falls, she has asked me to visit the prisoners on a regular basis and see to their needs until she can return.”
“Their needs are to make sure they obey the law and don’t end up in jail,” the sheriff snarled.
“Just let the ladies do their good work,” Seth said. Amanda noticed he had remained on the sidewalk, his hands at his sides, and yet there was something in his calm demeanor—punctuated by the glint of the polished butt of his pistol—that made her glad he had come with them. “Seems to me I read an article in the newspaper about how Dr. Porterfield’s efforts have received a good deal of support, not just from the council, but from regular voting citizens.”
His reminder that the sheriff was facing an election was so casually inserted that others might have missed it. But it was evident Richter had not. “Are you threatening me?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sheriff, step aside and let us pass.” Addie started for the door. Amanda stayed close behind, and when the sheriff made a move to block their entrance, it was Amanda who pushed past him, begging his pardon as she opened the door just enough for Addie and her to slip through. To her relief, the sheriff apparently decided not to follow.
Their leather heels echoed on the marble floors of the deserted courthouse. It was an impressive building, and Amanda thought it might be a good place to bring the Baxter twins one day for a lesson in civics. She wondered if the judge Addie had mentioned would agree to meet with them, and she began to plan a lesson focused on government and the law as she followed Addie through a series of doors to one where an older man sat reared back on a straight chair, snoring loudly.
“Good evening, Josiah,” Addie bellowed.
The man rocked the chair to all fours and stood, fumbling with a ring of keys as he did. “Evening, Doc,” he replied, giving her a shy, snaggletoothed grin as he unlocked the door, and then picked up a lantern at the top of a narrow stairway with worn wooden treads that led into darkness.
Addie and the man she’d called Josiah chatted all the way down to the row of cells as if they were out for a stroll in the park. Amanda was so focused on the dirt and cobwebs and disgusting smells rising from below that she barely heard Addie explain about her need to be away and how Amanda would take over. Josiah looked back at her, raised the lantern, and gave her that same shy smile. Amanda sorely wished that Seth had not agreed to remain outside with the sheriff.
“Doc!” A woman shouted at Addie as she pressed against the bars of the last cell.
To Amanda’s shock, Addie hurried past the other cells and grasped the woman’s hands. “Minnie! What are you doing here?”
The woman ducked her head. “Now, Doc, you know exactly why I’m here. Good to see you, though. How’s everything back home? Is that good-looking cowboy you married taking proper care of you?” She winked at Addie, and both women laughed.
Amanda cleared her throat, a reminder that she was standing not two feet away.
“Oh, Minnie, where are my manners? This is my sister-in-law and dear friend, Amanda Porterfield. My father is ill, and I’m going to be busy seeing his patients, so Amanda will take over here.”
“But you’ll be coming back,” a man in a neighboring cell stated.
“I hope I will, Johnny, but we’ll see how things work out.”
“Your pa’s pretty sick, is he?” This from another man sharing the cell with the first.
“He is.”
“Then we’ll say a prayer for him.”
“How’s that cough, Gabby?” Addie nodded to Josiah, who opened the cell so she could step inside. “And what happened to the extra lanterns we ordered?”
Josiah shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Sheriff took them away—said they were a fire hazard.”
Addie snorted. She had not brought her bag with her, but she removed her gloves and examined the man and his cell mate. She felt for fever, tapped their backs as Amanda had seen her do when she wanted to see if a person’s lungs were blocked, and had Josiah hold the lantern closer so she could look into the prisoners’ eyes.
Surely Addie didn’t expect that Amanda would carry on any such examination. She questioned what her duties would be as Addie moved to another cell. It was evident that Addie had had contact with many of these prisoners before. She knew them by name, and they obviously had come to view her with respect. The one or two she did not know—a woman sharing the cell with Minnie, and one other man—were introduced by their cell mates, and Addie was always identified as “our little angel of mercy.”
Amanda began to regret agreeing to take on this responsibility.
“The doc was in jail with me.” Amanda turned her attention back to the cell occupied by the women. “Name is Minnie Price. I work over at the Blue Parrot.” She thrust her hand through the bars, offering a handshake.
“There’s surely nothing illegal about that,” Amanda said as she took the woman’s hand.
Minnie smiled. “No, miss. But forgetting to pay for a small piece of lace and a couple of feathers from that new milliner in town—well now, that can get a girl arrested faster than you can blink.”
“Miss Jensen? That milliner?”
“Don’t rightly know the woman’s name, but it’s the only hat shop I know of in town. That woman has a suspicious nature. Oh, she watched me close the minute I walked into her store, and she just made me so durn nervous that before I knew what I was doing, I had backed my way out and not even paid attention to the fact that I was still holding that lace and them feathers I’d only been admiring, I swear.”
Minnie smelled of cheap perfume and wore a dress that exposed far too much bosom. She was hardly the sort of woman Amanda would normally associate with, and yet it struck her that a woman like Minnie might have a lot fewer choices in this life than she or Addie had. Not for the first time, she understood how truly blessed she was. After all, she had been able to leave home and come to Tucson and take a respectable position, and if none of it had worked out, she still had her family and the ranch. She had a home—a place she could go. What about Minnie? Who did she have to offer comfort and support?
Down the way, Addie continued to visit the prisoners, so Amanda pulled a small wooden stool closer to Minnie’s cell and sat down. “Tell me what the doctor has done to make life more bearable for those of you held here, Miss Price.”
“No need to stand on ceremony, honey. Minnie does fine.” The woman’s voice was filled with emotion, and she brushed away tears with the back of one hand. “Doc has made all the difference—in the food and the light, even if Sheriff Richter took it all away, and…”
“The food as well?”
Minnie nodded and leaned closer to Amanda, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s fine whenever Sheriff Richter knows Doc Addie is coming for a visit, but between times…”
Amanda mentally ran through her schedule and decided she would make it her business to visit the prisoners more often than Addie had—unannounced. Perhaps Addie could spea
k with Judge Ellis about the change in protocol. That should at least solve the issue of the food.
She shuddered as Minnie filled her in on how Addie and James Matthews, the local pharmacist, and his daughter Ginny had set up a schedule of regularly seeing the prisoners. “If somebody new comes in,” the woman continued, “Sheriff Richter is supposed to let the druggist know so he can come by. If Matthews thinks that prisoner needs medical attention, he gets word to Doc there.”
“You say the sheriff is supposed to.”
“Half the time he claims he was getting around to it, but there’s those like that boy down there at the end who could die a slow death before that lowdown, no-good varmint got them any help.”
Amanda became aware of a low moan coming from the opposite end of the row of cells. She could hear Addie speaking in soft, calm tones as she instructed Josiah to bring her fresh water and clean rags. “And then please go outside and tell our friend, Mr. Grover, to go to the home of the district attorney. My husband is meeting with him. Both men should come here at once and bring my medical bag.”
Josiah scratched his thin, lank hair. “Well now, Doc, that’s not something I can do. If I leave my post, Sheriff Richter will fire me for certain and—”
“I’ll go,” Amanda said, and she was halfway up the dark stairway before anyone could object.
She began to realize that taking on this project for Addie was exactly what she had been seeking—something bigger than tutoring the Baxter twins—something that would make a real difference for people far less fortunate than the twins. She could help her dearest friend in the bargain.
Six
Seth’s time with Sheriff Richter had been pretty much a standoff, the two of them keeping their distance, with neither abandoning his post outside the courthouse door. The clock had chimed the half hour, and dusk was settling in. Seth saw two men coming his way and recognized one as Amanda’s brother. Jess was dressed in clothes suited to riding the range while the other man was dressed formally, like a businessman, or perhaps a lawyer.
“Tarnation,” the sheriff muttered, and he stabbed out the cigar he’d lit shortly after Addie and Amanda went inside.
“Trouble?”
“Mind your own business,” Richter growled even as he pasted a fake smile on his face and descended the steps to greet the two men. “Well, if it ain’t our district attorney and Marshal Porterfield. A little out of your territory, aren’t you, son?”
Seth saw the flash of anger that passed over Jess’s face, but the man held his temper. “Good evening, Sheriff. Is my wife inside?”
“Looks like before long the whole family will be down there—your wife, your sister, you… You ain’t by chance checking up on me, are you, son?”
Richter’s constant insistence on pointing out the difference in their ages—and probably their experience—would have rattled most men. The sheriff was clearly trying to get a rise out of his opponent. But Jess stood his ground. “How’s my prisoner doing?”
“Now, Marshal, let’s understand each other—anybody locked up in this here jail is my prisoner.”
The other man placed his foot on the bottom step leading to the courthouse. “I’ve come to question the man, Sheriff. I assume that would be all right with you?”
Seth remained standing near the courthouse door, observing the scene playing out on the steps below. He had thought it the safest place to be, until Amanda came barreling through the door and nearly slammed into him. She was about to say something to him when she evidently spotted her brother.
“Jess, Addie needs her medical bag. One of the prisoners is hurt, bleeding.”
Jess Porterfield took a step closer to the sheriff. “I don’t suppose this might be the young man I delivered to your care not two hours ago?”
Seth’s attention was riveted on the two men. After all, there was every possibility the kid they were discussing was Sam.
He walked down the steps until he had joined the gathering. “I could go with Miss Porterfield to get Dr. Porterfield’s medical bag, Marshal,” he said quietly, giving no indication that he and Jess had ever met.
Jess glanced at him, then at Amanda. “You know this man?”
“He lives in the boardinghouse. Please, Jess, Addie needs her bag.”
Jess hesitated, then nodded. “It’s in the buggy by that small house on the corner.” Jess pointed out the house and then headed inside the courthouse with the lawyer and Richter close on his heels.
“Stay here,” Seth told Amanda. “It’ll be quicker if I go alone.” He took off at a run, found the bag, and was back in minutes. “Let’s go,” he said as he ran up the steps and held the door for her. “Which way?”
“Down here.” She led him through a series of hallways and impressive solid wood doors with carved trim until they came to what looked like the door to a closet. It stood open, and he could see the darkness below and smell the odors of human sweat and waste.
“Stay here,” he ordered, unwilling to have her experience such filth.
“No,” she replied, and went ahead down the narrow stairway, as if it were a trip she had made a dozen times.
There was no need to seek further directions, for now the doctor, her husband, the lawyer, and the sheriff were all squeezed into a small cell where a man lay on a cot, his shirt ripped and covered in blood. Seth pushed through to reach the doctor and get a better look. If it was Sam and he was conscious, he was sure to recognize his own brother, though Seth hoped the kid would have sense enough not to reveal Seth’s true identity by crying out for help. His heart hammered with a mix of fear and rage. If Sheriff Richter had hurt Sam…
“Here,” he said, thrusting the bag at Addie. Then he steeled himself to look down at the cot.
It wasn’t Sam.
A wave of disappointment mixed with relief left him light-headed. He leaned against the cold wall of the cell.
“Steady there,” the doctor said, and he realized she was talking to him.
“I’m fine,” he muttered.
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first man to go weak in the knees at the sight of blood. Jess, I need some room here.” She positioned herself between the injured man and the three lawmen, a clear message to get out of the cell.
“Here’s the water and rags you wanted, Doc,” a scrawny old man said as he set a pan of water on a small wooden stool.
“Where did you go for it? China?” she barked. “Sorry, Josiah,” she added as she dipped a rag in the water and squeezed out the excess.
“How did this man get injured?” Richter demanded.
The deputy looked confused, but then he glanced at Richter and mumbled, “He musta fell. Musta happened right after you left him here. He was sure fine then.” His voice shook, and there was little doubt that he was lying.
Richter turned to the man wearing the suit. “As I told you, Mr. Collins, the man put up a fight when he was brought down here. The deputy and me could hardly hold him, ain’t that right, Josiah?”
Seth saw the deputy nod and then look away.
“This man did not fall,” Amanda announced. “He has been beaten. Am I correct, Addie?”
The man moaned as Addie applied iodine to his cuts. “I would have to agree,” she said, looking at her husband, who stepped back inside the cell. “He’ll be all right,” she said in a tone meant to reassure Jess.
“Can he be moved to Whitman Falls?” Jess asked.
“Now, why would you go moving him all the way there, knowing he has to come back here to face trial?” Richter asked. He snickered and shook his head as if Jess were about the dumbest man he’d ever met.
“You make a good point, Sheriff,” Jess said as he studied Seth. “Sir, I didn’t get your name.”
“Grover,” Seth replied.
“You from Tucson?”
“Just passing through.”
; Seth heard Amanda release an exasperated sigh. “He’s looking at properties for investors who are his clients, Jess. He’s perfectly…”
Jess ignored her. “Interested in making a little money on the side?”
“What do you have in mind, Marshal Porterfield?”
“Well, I’m thinking the sheriff’s deputy has about all he can handle, seeing as how all the cells down here are fully occupied. I’m wondering if maybe you’d agree to watch over my prisoner here through the night—just to be sure he doesn’t injure himself again before morning.”
It was a gift—a chance for Seth to see if he could gain more information about the Stock brothers and their plans. It was a long shot, but he was pretty sure the marshal knew exactly what he was offering. “How much?”
“Does two bits an hour suit?”
“Now just a doggone minute,” Sheriff Richter protested, but the lawyer interrupted.
“I think that’s a fine idea. From what the marshal has told me, the man lying there could very well be mixed up with the gang that’s been pulling off those robberies north of here. And if he’s not part of the gang, then maybe he’s got some idea where they could be hiding out. Seems to me this gentleman here might be able to gather some information the prisoner would be reluctant to give someone wearing a badge.”
“You’re the boss,” Richter grumbled. “But this so-called businessman here has earned himself quite a reputation at the poker table over at the Blue Parrot. From what I hear, most folks wouldn’t trust him to play a fair game of five-card stud, much less watch over a dangerous criminal. How do we know these two aren’t in cahoots?”
“Sometimes you just need to have a little faith,” Jess said, and then looked at Seth. “Deal?”
“Yes sir.” This could be the break he’d been waiting for. He only hoped the doctor was good at her work, and the man would come around before daybreak so Seth would have time to gather what information he could before Richter showed up again.