Winter Winds of Wyoming
Page 16
The dog lifted his head to see who’d entered but didn’t get up.
Maude pushed the door closed with her back and smiled. She was bundled in a thick coat, with gloves and scarf. Black boots poked out beneath the hem of her garments.
She gripped a basket to her chest, much like the one she’d left the other day along with a note inviting him to visit her store. More goodies for him, he presumed.
“Why, Deputy Babcock, I’m so happy to catch you here. I stopped by yesterday evening, but you were out.” She glanced at Wil Lemon, slumped in his cell.
“You’ve found me now, Maude. What can I do for you? Cup of coffee, maybe?” He really didn’t want to make small talk—especially with Maude; maybe with Thom or Albert, if they were here, but anything to keep him from dwelling on what Adaline had gone and said was welcome.
“I just wanted to bring these by.” She held out the basket. “Fresh from my oven. I’d never want you to go hungry—you being our law for now. I need to fatten you back up to your previous weight when you were in Logan Meadows before, with the train of money.”
Must she remind him every time they talked? He missed his weight as much as she did, and yes, he felt different, less effective. But in cold weather like this, when his body was using fuel to stay warm, bulking up took work.
“You look almost like a scarecrow.”
A deep chuckle came from the cell that Dalton ignored.
She brought the basket to his desk and snatched off the red-and-white-checked napkin with a flourish.
He stared down at a variety of cookies and bars. “Thank you, Maude, but there’s no need.” He stood, went to the back of the room, and retrieved her other basket, now empty of the chewy cookies he’d consumed with pleasure. “Here you go. And you best take these others as well when you go—even though I know your heart is in the right place, we wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re buttering me up.”
Her mouth dropped open at the same time she raised a hand to the neckline of her coat. “Butter you up? What on earth do you mean? I’d never do a thing like that.”
He quirked one eyebrow. “No?”
She shook her head. “What would be my aim?” She set her chin in a stubborn line.
He reached around to his back, where the dull ache he had earlier was now a full-blown pain, and pressed a thumb between his shoulder blades. “Mr. Hatfield offered me free train fare,” he said. “Frank, a hot supper. Hunter and Kendall, drinks on the house anytime I want.” He smiled, softening his words. “Need I say more?”
She gasped. “What! Those scoundrels! They’re bribing your affections. They should be…” She snapped her mouth closed and glanced at the snowflakes pattering against the window, a dark hue creeping up her wrinkled skin. “You don’t think that of me, do you, Deputy? I’m bribing you so I’ll win the Christmas display contest?”
She looked as if she were facing a walk to the woodshed. He almost smiled. “No, I’m not accusing you of anything, Maude, but you can see how this might look to others, can’t you? Two baskets in a few short days?” Lifting the sweets off the desk, he handed the basket back. “I’m sure you can find someone else who might like fresh cookies.”
“I would.”
They both looked at the jail cell.
Wil stood at the door with both hands wrapped around the bars.
A moment of pity tried to grasp Dalton but didn’t quite.
Maude glanced at him. “Can I, Deputy?”
He shook his head. “No. This fella needs to learn some respect.” Not only for the law but other people. The nasty comment about the Lings still had him fiery hot.
“Suit yourself.” Her lip turned up. “That man and Jake were furious with each other last night. If not for the bars, I think Jake might have taken his head off right here in the jailhouse.”
Shocked, Dalton cut his gaze back to Maude’s face. She was waiting for him to ask more. “What’s this about?”
She turned her back to the cell and cupped her mouth. “I’m not exactly sure, Deputy. But I stopped by last night with a plate of biscuits and gravy—” She held up a preemptive hand. “Mr. Lemon and Jake were shouting insults—one right after the other, and each more disturbing than the last. They hadn’t heard me enter. I thought I heard Courtney’s name and then Jake lunged at the bars and said if Mr. Lemon weren’t locked up, he’d kill him with his bare hands. Dwight was all eyes and ears as well, but he kept his mouth shut. You know how he’s always looking for something to use against a person. Anyway, when Jake turned and saw me, he stormed out without a word of explanation. Bad blood is simmering between the two. And if I had to guess, Courtney is the cause.”
Dalton remembered the animosity between the two in Newport. Jake had disliked the man being so much older than his sister but didn’t say too much of anything else. Like he’d be with me and Adaline. I can’t fault him for that. He’d been close-mouthed about the situation and seemed relieved when he delivered his sisters safely away on the train without any trouble. And now Lemon had showed up here unannounced, causing more strife. Dalton would be extra alert until Lemon left town.
Maude waited for his reaction.
“Why don’t you take this nice basket of cookies over to the Lings? I think they’d appreciate them. Did you know Mrs. Ling delivered last night?”
“Yes, I’ve heard! And you were there. Explains the dark circles under your eyes. You should get a little rest.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Thank you for the suggestion. I hope you’ll stop by the mercantile again soon to see what we’ve added to the display.”
With a hand on her back he ushered her to the door. “I will, Maude. I appreciate your thoughtfulness with the cookies. Under any other circumstances, I’d be more than happy to accept.” She’d taken time from her day to do something nice for him—and he did appreciate the effort. As a matter of fact, he’d enjoyed the first basket very much.
Her eyebrow spiked. “I understand, Deputy. You will not play favorites.”
A wide smile stretched across his face. “No, I won’t.”
Her speaking about the mercantile reminded him about Beth. He held nothing against her, except the disrespectful way she spoke to Mrs. Hollyhock and others. She had nominated him for the judging position. He lowered his voice. “How’s Miss Fairington? I hear she’s living in the back of your store.”
“Ahh, Beth… Yes, she is. And she’s as impertinent as ever—maybe even more since she was tossed out of the Red Rooster. I can understand Violet; I really can. But my heart does go out to Beth as well. She’s her own worst enemy. Whenever anyone warms up to her, it’s not long before she cuts them to the quick. No one is safe, not even me.” Maude’s wrinkled brow furrowed. “That poor woman can’t find an ounce of joy in anything. Not sure how long she’ll stay in town, since her one and only friend has thrown her out on the street. Sometimes I hear her muttering about teaching everyone a lesson by leaving Logan Meadows for good. Honestly, I have no idea where she’d go. I believe Violet has been her only friend for years. Like a mother to her.” She shook her head and sighed. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
Dalton opened the door and watched Maude plod away toward the laundry house in the ever-deepening snow, a route which took her past the bank.
Frank came out as she passed.
Words were shared.
After a few moments with his head bowed in her direction, he straightened and glanced back at Dalton, watching from the sheriff’s office. A none-too-happy expression marred his normally pleasant face.
Damnation. Dalton’s words had been for Maude alone, and he’d thought she knew better than to say anything. Didn’t anyone keep anything to themselves these days? He had no doubt Maude would search out each person he’d mentioned and tell them what he’d said, creating ill will right before Christmastime.
Frank turned on his heel and disappeared inside the bank.
“I’m hungry,” Wil called. “I could use some more coffee, too. Make yourself useful and brew another pot. I might as well enjoy my time off in this wonderful establishment.”
The man had already eaten a plate of ham and eggs from the Silky Hen and consumed three cups of coffee. In contrast, hunger gnawed at Dalton’s belly.
“What are you waiting for, Deputy?” A smirk twisted his mouth. “I need a smoke, too. That’s the least you can do for detaining me for no reason.”
Dalton went to the hat rack for his Stetson and coat.
“Have them throw in a piece of walnut pie.”
“I’m not going for you. You’ll eat when you get fed and not a moment before. I’m getting my breakfast, so settle back on your cot and get comfortable. You won’t get anything more before noon.” Dalton stepped into the slush, sucking in a cold breath. The town appeared quiet, but he’d learned the hard way appearances could be deceiving. The snow had stopped. As a few rays of sunlight fought through the clouds, silver-and-gold-colored trinkets glimmered on the Christmas tree. All seemed well on the surface. So why then did Logan Meadows feel like a powder keg?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Courtney hovered near the window inside Harrell’s Haberdashery, covertly watching the sheriff’s office across the street. Her stomach pinched with fear. She wasn’t sure what was worrying her the most, speaking again with Wil or meeting Tyler at the Silky Hen? She swallowed, her dry throat painful, and glanced at the sky. Clouds were gathering.
At the Lings’, she’d claimed she needed something at the mercantile she couldn’t divulge, being Christmas was right around the corner. She’d left Adaline with the others as they’d penciled out a tentative work schedule so Mrs. Ling needn’t worry about getting back to work anytime soon. As long as each woman had a little extra time on their hands, they were happy to help.
As was Courtney. If she could get this mess with Wil squared away, she’d donate all her free time to the Lings when she wasn’t watching the children for Jessie. A penance for her past indiscretions with Wil. She’d embrace each hour spent washing, ironing, and folding as a gift. One she was grateful for. If only Wil would take the money and directly leave town. She’d still have the crime of stealing to work through, but she would save every cent she could and somehow repay the Logans, even if doing so took her whole life.
“Is there something I can help you find, Courtney?” Mrs. Harrell asked from behind.
She’d been so deep in thought, Courtney hadn’t heard the woman’s approach and jumped at the sound of her voice. She raised a hand to her throat as if the shop owner could read her thoughts. “Uh, no, Mrs. Harrell. I’m just looking at all your fine things.” She glanced toward the nearest shelf of knickknacks and forced a smile. “They’re beautiful. Deciding is almost impossible.”
“But you’re not shopping. I’ve watched you stare out the window for a good ten minutes. Is something troubling you, sweetheart? You can tell me.”
Everyone knew their past, how they were parentless, and her living at the Logans’. “I’m, I’m—thinking about what to give Adaline. I don’t have but a few coins to spend.” The Logans’ eighty dollars pulled weightily on her pocket, belying her words. The sooner she concluded this business and Wil left town, the better.
A smile appeared on Mrs. Harrell’s face. “Well, you should have said something sooner. I know exactly what Adaline would love for Christmas that almost anyone could afford. Follow me, and I’ll show you a pretty scarf she’s been admiring for days. I can sell you the accessory at cost since it’s for an employee.” She gave a bright smile.
Courtney didn’t want to leave her spot at the window. She’d skirted by the sheriff’s office before coming here, noticing Dalton in the back of the room, shaking the coffeepot. Since then, she’d been at this spot, praying he’d step out before too long and give her an opportunity to sneak inside without being seen. She only needed a few seconds to dart in, convince Wil to leave with the gold eagle coins, and be gone forever. Only five minutes.
Following Mrs. Harrell would ruin her plan. This might be her only chance. She grasped the woman’s arm, pulling her to a stop. “I’m sorry. I just remembered something I must do. I’ll come back later to see the scarf. Thank you, though.”
The woman’s face fell. “But what if someone buys it first? Adaline will be disappointed…”
Courtney was halfway out the door. “I’m sorry.”
Across the street, Dalton stepped outside, turned left, and continued on his way wherever he was headed without seeing her. She let go a deep breath and pretended to admire the Christmas tree while the distance between them grew. Besides him, the street was practically empty. Without a moment to spare, she looked both ways, dashed across, and checked the boardwalk one more time. Casting her luck to the wind, she grasped the cold door handle.
The cloudy day outside made the room shadowy. One lantern flickered on the desk and one in the back of the room. She couldn’t see into the dark cells without moving closer. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The rushing in her ears drowned out every other sound. She held her breath and took one step farther into the room.
“Took you long enough, Court.” He inched closer to the cell door. “No fun spending time in jail—alone.”
She stayed several arm lengths from the bars, the coins burning a hole in her heart. His silly grin was out of character. He looked old and tired; a couple days’ worth of dark stubble covered his jaw. The way his gaze roamed up and down her body made her feel dirty. She wanted to run out the door and never return. That was a luxury she didn’t have. If she didn’t use these few minutes prudently, all might be lost. She took another deep breath. “I need to talk with you. Really talk. No more avoiding the issue.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“I have part of the money you demanded.”
“Demanded is such a harsh word.”
She steeled her nerves. “Eighty dollars. That’s all I can get.” She’d not give over the money yet—not until she had his word. “You promise to take the money and leave? I can’t get another cent.”
He just stared.
Did he want her to beg? She would, if she had to. “Please, Wil. I’m sorry for running out on you. Please forgive me.” She hated to let him off the hook for using her. She knew well enough he’d not think himself culpable at all. But she didn’t care. She’d shoulder every ounce of guilt if he’d leave Logan Meadows and never return. “What do you say?”
“I say nope. You owe me one hundred dollars, Court. And I’d say you’re getting off cheap for all the pain and anguish you caused. I aim to collect. You got the money with you now, don’t you? I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
A noise in the back of the room made her start.
Several moments later, the sheriff’s dog moseyed out from behind the woodstove, his toenails clicking on the wooden floorboards. He stopped halfway across the room.
“Just the mutt. Now, let me see the money in your pocket,” Wil demanded.
The amusement lacing his tone moments before was replaced with annoyance. A shiver inched up her spine. “I’d never carry around money like that. It’s hidden in town. A place easy for you to retrieve. Forget about us, Wil. Let go of your hatred for Jake. No one will suspect a thing.” She gave a wobbly smile. “Better this way.”
He grasped a ba
r and pushed his face closer. “Better? Better for who? If I agree, you’ll still owe me twenty dollars. How about you meet me tomorrow evening for one last hurrah? Then I’ll call us even. Eighty dollars and you for the night.”
How hateful! Her throat tightened to the point of pain. She glanced at the dog, still watching, as she thought of a way to escape. What would happen if she came clean? How would her past affect her family? She wished she knew. “That’ll never, ever happen!”
“You might feel differently tomorrow when people start whispering when you walk by. Crossing the street so you don’t taint their children.” He paused and smiled. “When I get out of here, I’ll be staying at the hotel. Come around back and wait on the old staircase. I’ll find you, Courtney, and collect on what you owe, after which I’ll disappear from your life. If you don’t come, come morning people will see you in a whole new light. I promise you that. Won’t be pretty or even my fault. You done what you done by your own free will. I never forced nothin’.” He grinned from ear to ear. “This whole mess is on your shoulders, sweetheart. When you want to hate me, just remember that.”
She inched away, heat scalding the back of her eyes. He was right. She was at fault. Unable to stand one more second with him, she turned and ran out the door, being careful to keep one arm down on her pocket to keep the coins from jangling.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The mood in the Silky Hen was festive. Talk and laughter reverberated about the room. The café was bursting with customers. But Tyler only stared at his half-full coffee cup, brooding. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Courtney. She’d suspected something this morning when he’d said he wanted to speak with her. Her eyes darkened, and she’d looked away. If he had to guess, he’d been perfectly correct with what he’d thought he’d seen the night before.