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Brodie's Gamble

Page 11

by Shirleen Davies


  “Appears you have all the help you need, Doc. If you don’t mind, I need to find August Fielder.”

  “You go ahead, Sheriff.” Vickery turned to look over his shoulder. “If you find anyone else who needs help, we have room for more injured.”

  Brodie clasped a hand on Doc’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

  He crossed the street, walking toward the jail. People were already picking up broken wood, sweeping shattered glass from the boardwalk, and moving smashed signs out of the way. As he stepped up to the jail door, he heard a loud, familiar whistle, his mouth tilting up at the corners.

  “Hey, lad. Do you need some help?” Quinn slid off his horse and looked around, his face somber as he surveyed the damage. “Aye, it appears you do. The others are right behind me. They stopped to help move a tree blocking the street.”

  A moment later, his brother, Fletcher, along with Blaine, Colin, Bram, Camden, and Sean rode up.

  “How is the ranch?” Brodie asked as they dismounted.

  “We could feel the earthquake, but haven’t found any damage so far.” Fletcher slapped his brother on the back. “Ma wanted me to make sure you were all right.”

  “It took all of you to do that?” Brodie glanced at each of them, a wave of emotion coursing through him.

  “Aye. There was no question about any of us staying behind.” Colin stepped beside him. “What can we do?”

  “You’re sure?”

  Colin crossed his arms, cocking a brow. “We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.”

  The others nodded, settling the matter.

  “Divide up. Check with as many people as you can to find out what help they need. I’m sure Fielder will call a meeting of the town council so they can decide what aid can be provided.” Brodie drew in a breath, wondering if his father, Ewan, a member of the town council, would ride into town. He hadn’t seen him since accepting the job as sheriff.

  “If you’re wondering about Da, he said he will be riding in today,” Fletcher said, as if reading his brother’s mind.

  Brodie nodded, hoping his father would take time to talk to him. They needed to clear the rift between them. “If you find more injuries, take them to Buckie’s. Doc Vickery has a temporary clinic there. I need to find Fielder.”

  “You go ahead. The lads and I will take care of the rest. We’ll meet you back here in two hours.” Colin turned to the others. “Quinn, take Bram and start at the far north end of town. Blaine, you and Cam check the streets around the docks. Fletcher, you’re with me.” Without another word, Colin swung up on Chieftan. “We’ll start east and work our way west.”

  Brodie watched them all ride off, his chest swelling, feeling a sense of pride in his family.

  “Sheriff, I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

  Brodie turned around to see August Fielder walking toward him. His coat had been discarded, his sleeves rolled up, his pants covered in dirt.

  “Yes, sir. Do you have time to go inside?”

  “Whatever you need.”

  To keep herself from dozing off, Gwen paced around the small examination room. Maggie hadn’t stirred the entire time, and Gwen became more concerned as each hour passed. Doc Vickery hadn’t been able to come back, although he had sent one of the ladies to check on them.

  Walking to the front, Gwen righted some chairs, then picked up a broom resting against a wall and began to sweep. The clinic had been lucky, suffering only a couple broken windows. Stepping outside, her eyes widened at the extent of the damage. A new building down the street was now a pile of rubble. She was about to turn to go back inside when a shout stopped her.

  “Colin and Fletcher. It’s good to see you boys. Are you here to help?”

  “Aye, Gwen. What are you doing here?” Colin slipped to the ground, putting his arm around her.

  “Did you hear about Maggie King?”

  “The woman Brodie arrested?” Colin’s brows drew together. “What happened?”

  She explained, ending by telling them Maggie’s current condition.

  Colin mumbled a curse as he and Fetcher followed her inside. “She seems like a nice lass. It doesn’t seem right.”

  He’d barely gotten the words out when a man walked into the clinic, walked up to Gwen, and grabbed her by the arms.

  “Where is she?”

  Colin stepped between the man and Gwen, Fletcher taking up position behind the stranger, their bodies rigid with anger.

  “Let her go. Now.” Colin pushed the man back into Fletcher’s hands. The younger cousin smiled as he shoved him outside.

  “If you have something to say to the lady, you can say it from there.” Fletcher crossed his arms, blocking the entrance.

  Gwen watched Fletcher from her spot next to Colin. One of the tallest of the MacLaren cousins at six-foot-five, Fletcher had impressively broad shoulders for a man of just eighteen. His caramel brown hair hung down his forehead, his steel gray eyes enhanced with swirls of light green and blue. They were all good-looking men, but she knew Fletcher already attracted women like flies to honey. Her mouth tilted into a slight smile.

  Colin walked up next to Fletcher. “Who are you and what’s your business here?”

  The man glared at both of them, then straightened his shoulders. “I’m Syd Stoddard. The woman in there killed my brother, and I’m going to make sure she pays for it.”

  “That’s great news, Mr. Fielder. I’m certain Maggie…I mean, Miss King will be relieved to have a man of your experience representing her.”

  Fielder watched Brodie’s expression, seeing something in his eyes he couldn’t quite define. Ignoring it, he stood. “I think we should go check on her. See if she’s come out of her coma.”

  Crossing the street, they walked toward Doc Vickery’s clinic. Brodie noted a man outside, his back to them as he talked to Colin and Fletcher. Brodie saw the hardened smile on his brother’s face, knowing the look all too well. Fletch was angry, ready to explode.

  “Colin, Fletch, what’s going on?” Brodie moved next to the man, letting his gaze wander over him.

  “This is Syd Stoddard, Sheriff.” Fletcher emphasized the word. “He’s Arnie Stoddard’s brother.”

  Brother? Brodie thought, taking a closer look at the man. “Miss King never mentioned Arnie had any kin.”

  “Miss King? Is that what she told you?” A sneer crossed Syd’s face. “She and Arnie were married.”

  Brodie moved to within inches of Syd’s face. “I assume you have proof of that, Mr. Stoddard. If not, the facts point to her being kidnapped and held against her will. Seems to me you would’ve been part of that.”

  Syd’s face twisted, his body tensing as he stepped away. “I ain’t got to prove anything to you. She killed my brother, and I’m here to see that she hangs for it.”

  “If I may.” Fielder moved between the men, facing Syd. “I’m August Fielder and I’ll be representing Miss King. You’re a man I’d like to speak with, Mr. Stoddard. It seems you may know quite a bit about what happened to your brother.”

  Syd stuttered, holding up his hands. “All I know is what I heard when I got into town. The bitc…Maggie killed him. Beat him to death is what I heard.”

  “So you weren’t there, Mr. Stoddard?” Fielder watched Syd’s eyes flicker, darting between each of them.

  “No. I ain’t seen Arnie in a couple months. I was coming through town on my way to the cabin when I heard about it.”

  “I see.” Fielder turned toward Brodie. “I’m going in to see if Miss King is able to talk.” He moved past Colin and Fletcher, leaving Syd for Brodie to handle.

  “I expect you to stick around. I’m sure Mr. Fielder will want to talk to you again, as will the judge.” He glared at Syd. “If you step within a hundred feet of Miss King, I’ll arrest you…unless you give me reason to do more.”

  Syd’s eyes blazed at the threat. “I don’t plan to go anywhere. Fact is, I’ll be happy to build the gallows myself.” He pushed past Brodie, his pace rapid as he headed up
the boardwalk.

  “Eejit,” Fletcher mumbled, then turned at the sound of a loud moan from inside.

  “Maggie.” Brodie dashed into the room to find Gwen hovering over her, a soothing hand stroking Maggie’s forehead. Fielder leaned against the wall, watching. “She awake?” He glanced at Gwen, then back at Maggie, seeing her eyes try to stay open, then flutter closed.

  “What…what happened?” Her voice was thick and rough from lack of use. Her eyes opened to slits as she tried to sit up.

  “Stay down, Maggie.” Brodie placed a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her back down. “You were in an accident.”

  “Brodie?” Her strained whisper sliced through him.

  “I’m right here.” He bent down close to her ear. “What do you need, lass?”

  “Water…”

  Gwen poured a glass, holding it to Maggie’s lips as Brodie raised her head.

  “Just a little now, lass.” Brodie swallowed the lump in his throat, noting the cuts, bruises, and swelling on her face. “That’s enough.” He glanced at Gwen, who took the glass away.

  “I hurt all over.” She tried to lift her arm, wincing.

  “Try to keep still. The doctor will explain everything when he gets back.” Brodie straightened as Maggie’s eyes drifted shut and her breathing calmed. Glancing behind him, he saw Fielder, Colin, and Fletcher watching him. Feeling his face color, he whipped around. “Don’t you two have something to do?”

  “Aye, lad, we do.” Colin smiled, a knowing look on his face Brodie didn’t like.

  “We’ll be back in a bit.” Fletcher took one more look at Maggie, then followed Colin outside.

  Fielder cleared his throat as he moved a couple paces forward. “Progress, Sheriff MacLaren. Not enough for me to speak with her yet, but progress all the same. I’ll be calling a meeting of the town council for tomorrow and I’d like you to attend.”

  “I’ve seen most of the city, and asked some men to check again. They’ll let me know what else they find and who needs help.”

  “Excellent. You can go over it at the meeting. Afterwards, I plan to ride up to the cabin and take a look around for myself. I’ll need directions.”

  “I’ll go with you, Mr. Fielder. Seems I find something new each time I walk around the place.”

  “Very well. I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but watch out for Stoddard. He had a look about him I didn’t like. There’ll be no railroading in this town, and he seems the type of man to incite people to take matters into their own hands.”

  “I agree. I’ll find out where he’s staying and have one of my deputies keep track of him.”

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Brodie watched Fielder leave before turning back to Maggie.

  “If you’re going to stay, why don’t you pull up a chair? I’ll let Doc Vickery know she woke up.”

  “Thanks, Gwen. I don’t know what—”

  “Don’t thank me, Brodie. I’d have done it for anyone and you know it. And I’d do anything for you and the boys.” She smiled, then walked toward the door.

  “I know,” Brodie whispered as she disappeared out the front door. Grabbing a chair, he sat next to the bed, reaching up to cover Maggie’s hand with his. Something about the feel of her skin comforted him in a way he’d never known. Warmth ran through his body, a sense of peace engulfing him. It was as if he belonged here with her. The entire situation confused him.

  Ever since she’d arrived in Conviction, his senses had been on alert, his body responding each time he saw or thought of her. He didn’t understand any of it. She couldn’t be more wrong for him. If he were looking for a woman, which he wasn’t, she’d be the last person he’d seek.

  She wasn’t tall enough and had little meat on her bones. He liked women with curves he could sink his fingers into, women who matched his tall, broad frame. Maggie didn’t fit into either category. Besides, within a few weeks, she might find herself on the way to San Quentin. The thought sickened him.

  Tightening his grip on her hand, he leaned forward, whispering in her ear.

  “We’ll get to the truth, Maggie. I promise we will. I’ll not let them send you away, lass.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes glassy. “Nae. As long as I draw a breath, you’ll not be going to prison.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “May I help you?” Walter held the front door of the Fielder house open, sizing up the young man standing before him.

  Joel Stoddard tightened the grip on his hat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He’d seen his brother, Syd, an hour ago at one of the many saloons in Conviction, learning August Fielder would be defending Maggie. Tensions between the brothers had worsened since their argument at the cabin and didn’t improve when Joel announced his intention to meet with the lawyer.

  “I’d like to see Mr. Fielder, if he’s available.”

  “May I tell him who’s calling?”

  “Joel Stoddard.”

  Walter’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded. “Please, come inside.” Walter walked away, returning a minute later to usher Joel down the hall.

  “Ah, another Stoddard brother.” Fielder stood, walking around his desk and extending his hand.

  “Mr. Fielder.” Joel grasped his hand, then glanced around the large room. Bookcases lined two walls, a fireplace on a third with windows overlooking a beautiful garden. “You have a beautiful home.”

  Fielder followed Joel’s gaze. “Thank you. I’m quite pleased with it. Please, sit down and tell me what I may do for you.”

  Placing his hat on his lap, Joel leaned forward. “I understand you have agreed to be Maggie’s lawyer.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “You’ve had a chance to meet my brother, Syd. I’m certain he gave you his belief she’s guilty.”

  “Yes. Your brother was quite adamant about wanting to see her hang. Do you share his thoughts?”

  “That’s why I’m here, Mr. Fielder. There isn’t much Syd and I agree on. In this instance, we couldn’t be further apart. I believe she’s innocent, and I’m offering you my help.”

  Fielder rested his arms on the desk and leaned toward Joel. “I see. And what is it you’re offering to do?”

  Joel cleared his throat. He’d learned Fielder was the wealthiest citizen in Conviction, head of their town council, an attorney, and owned several businesses. He also knew the imposing man sitting a few feet away took few cases—only those which meant something to him. And no one could remember a time the lawyer had lost.

  “I know I don’t look like much, Mr. Fielder. My brothers and I came from hard beginnings. Neither Arnie nor Syd ever saw the need for education, neither improving himself by completing school.”

  “I take it you did.”

  “Yes, sir. I never wanted to work our farm. Ma sacrificed a great deal to make sure I went as far as I could in school. When I graduated, I walked out with a law degree.” He noticed Fielder’s gaze flicker, then narrow. “I practiced a couple years before she died and I returned home. What I’m saying is, I believe in Maggie’s innocence and I’ll do whatever is needed to clear her name and find the real killer.” He held Fielder’s gaze. “My brother was not a good man. He and I had words many times about his treatment of Maggie. Did she hate him? I’m certain she did, although she never said as much. Did she kill him, leaving him rotting in a shallow grave with his face bashed in? Never.”

  Fielder leaned back in his chair, his elbows on the armrests, steepling his fingers. “Do you have an idea who killed your brother?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do my best to prove it.”

  “Have you ever worked on a murder case, Mr. Stoddard?”

  “No, sir. I did attend as many as my schedule permitted while in school and during my two years of practice. I believe I have a good feel of what needs to be done.”

  “May I ask where you attended law school?”

  “Yale, sir.”

  Standing, Fiel
der walked to a bookcase and pulled out a thick volume, handing it to Joel.

  “This, Mr. Stoddard, is the definitive book on successfully defending someone in a murder trial. I’ll expect you to have read it by the time we meet again the day after tomorrow.”

  Joel’s eyes popped wide and his jaw dropped. He stood, holding the book in a shaky hand, extending the other toward Fielder, who took it in a firm grasp.

  “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this.” Joel turned to leave.

  “A good school…Yale. I went there myself.”

  Joel stopped, glancing over his shoulder to see a grin on Fielder’s face.

  Brodie’s family left town to return to their ranch late the night before, carrying a message requesting Ewan’s attendance at a council meeting the next afternoon. Brodie had been up since four in the morning. His first stop had been the clinic to check on Maggie, who didn’t wake up during his visit. He sat by her side for an hour, holding her hand, then left for the jail to prepare a list of what would be needed to repair the town. The council meeting had been set for one o’clock, giving him enough time to ride through town and check on Maggie once more.

  Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed tired eyes, then stretched his arms above his head. Several times the night before, he’d been tempted to leave his bed, dress, and walk to the clinic to sit by Maggie’s side. He couldn’t explain his almost compulsive need to see her, and didn’t want to examine it too closely. Brodie finally drifted off to sleep well after midnight. When he woke up, the first person he thought of was Maggie, something else he didn’t want to scrutinize.

  “I thought I’d find you in here.” Sam walked in, filled a cup with the several hours old coffee, then sat across from Brodie. “I stopped by the clinic. Maggie is still asleep. Doc said to tell you she had a restless night, but never woke up.”

  “I don’t know how he does it.”

  “What? Go days without sleep?” Sam sipped his coffee, grimacing at the taste. “I don’t know. It may be one reason he asked Gwen if she’d consider leaving Buckie’s and working as his assistant.”

 

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