The sun had moved farther to the west. Blue Sky Lake wasn’t far off, and the wagon tracks were headed in that direction. Only, there were no other hoofprints in the dirt other than the team horses in line with the trail of the wheels. Somewhere, Jesse had missed where the tall man and the men he rode with turned away from the wagon. He’d covered a lot of territory. Too much to go hunting for a needle in a haystack. Tracking was the one skill he wasn’t altogether good at, but usually, the sheriff was with him and that man was a hound dog. So Jesse’s ability wasn’t often solely relied upon.
Voices, squeaky ones, carried on the breeze. Hoots and splashing drew his attention to the water’s edge. The thin woman sat on the bank, her skirt hiked above her knees and her feet soaking in the cool wetness. It was hard not to notice that the buttons in the center of her low-hanging neckline were unfastened, exposing the sweaty flesh underneath. He swallowed hard. For a little-bitty woman, good God, she was blessed in that area. Quite a distraction, one he’d bet she knew how to use to her advantage, which could get him killed. Jesse glanced elsewhere.
The wagon was tucked under the shade of some mighty tall trees. The two team animals grazed on a patch of grass where they were tethered to a limb. No other horses. Not a surprise since he’d lost their trail, but that didn’t mean they had left her. They could return.
He pulled up reins. “Where are your friends?”
The thin woman twisted around, her eyes narrowed. “I knowed we’d be seein’ ya. All you lawmen are the same. Don’t know when to quit.” The corners of her mouth curled into a wicked grin.
This woman was evil, but Jesse had seen her be kind to Nate and she appeared to treat her kids well. What a contradiction. One person one minute, and the next, she was a heartless bitch. It could be she was just out of her damn head, plumb crazy, having moments of sanity.
“You pissed him off, my man. The next time he sees you, you’ll get a bullet in the face.” Her gun belt lay on a flat rock within reach of her right hand. At the moment, her hands were sifting through her hair, rearrange the loose bun on top of her head. “Can’t say I’d cry.” She pressed in a pin, then a second one to hold all the brown strands up.
If she didn’t want to tell Jesse where the others were, then he’d bait them. “Get up. You’re under arrest for the robbery of the Blue Star Saloon.”
Mad cackling burst out of her. She didn’t move from where her ass was planted in the dirt. “Kids, the deputy’s gonna take us to town, feed us a free meal, and y’all will get to sleep on a soft bunk tonight.” She pointed toward the baby splashing in a shallow pool. “He’s still on the tit, so don’t get any ideas ‘bout placin’ him in a home unless someone’s willin’ to wet nurse. As for the other four, they’re all skittish around folks, so have fun findin’ anyone to watch them.”
The kids had all come running. Dripping from head to heels, they all huddled around their mother, but their innocent doe eyes were on him. Nathanial had lived a similar life to these kids, and Jesse felt bad for them. Nate had lots of scars that were connected to bad memories. Jesse wouldn’t lock the mother of these kids up in front of them, and worse, that bitch knew it.
“Tell that dog of yours that I’m lookin’ for him.”
“Tell ‘im your damn self.”
Before Jesse could argue, the thin woman drew the baby into her arms, and he went to nursing.
“Go play.” She shooed the other kids.
Jesse wheeled his horse. If she had expected him to follow, then the men she’d been with probably wouldn’t show themselves, not today anyway. Especially since so many at the picnic had seen their little altercation. They’d be the first suspects if Jesse were killed. That’d be a hanging offense.
Did Jesse want to waste what time was left in the day hunting men who, as far as he knew, had stolen a gun and what probably amounted to petty cash? Pete housed a safe in his room, or so Jesse had heard tell. Hopefully, he’d stashed away any bills.
Jesse didn’t know that those fellas had anything to do with stealing women. Until he had more proof, or at least a name, to check if any of them had a record, he was at a standstill. Although, he would keep hunting them on the charge of robbery.
Jesse touched spurs to the mare. The rest of the evening belonged to his beautiful bride-to-be.
CHAPTER 15
After three kicks, a hop, and a snort, the animal’s neck was arched to buck again. Tate came flying out of the saddle, hit the ground, and got up, limping toward them. When the event was done, they met up with Kate and Constance. The kids wanted to ride the carousel again, which turned into four more times. Then they drifted through the stands and got a late lunch.
They laid out a picnic blanket in the grass near the edge of town where lots of others were doing the same. Corn on the cob, pulled pork, fish, chicken halves, cake, and slices of watermelon were being served. There was a man making popcorn and a woman selling squares of fudge and pieces of pie. Nolan had caught sight of the Fletchers a few times, but they had kept their distance. He didn’t want any more trouble with them, especially in front of Nathanial. The boy was having a good time, and Nolan didn’t want anything to ruin it.
“Pa. May I get another piece of watermelon?” Red juice dripped off Nathanial’s chin. His face was nearly buried in the rind, hands covered in the sticky liquid. He had eaten everything else on his plate.
Nolan tossed him two bits. The booth selling the slices was not far, thirty, forty feet away at most. Nolan could see the line clearly, maybe five, six people, and the Fletchers weren’t there or at least not in sight.
“Why don’t you go with him?” Kate squeezed Nolan’s hand.
“The Fletchers haven’t bothered us since the marshal warned them. I don’t want Nate thinkin’ those folks got us so scared that we can’t relax at all, or he’ll just be anxious. We’re all here to enjoy ourselves.” Nolan was worried. Fletcher had mentioned a “case.” That could only refer to one thing. Court. Was it possible they had pinpointed the wrong kid?
A whore, an outlaw, the offspring of the two … Nate’s story probably wasn’t all that uncommon. However, the fact that a notorious killer, one of the infamous Younger brothers, had fathered the boy did make him unique. That was one reason his son’s past was talked about, so well known.
“I need to tell you something.” Kate set aside her plate. “Right before the pie judging, Constance sent a wire to some of her business associates back east. She got a reply. I wasn’t sure I should say anything in front of Nathanial.” She glanced at their son standing in line, licking his lips.
“They’re from New York City, but they own an oil field down Texas way. Three of them to be exact. Lem Fletcher inherited them, old money. He also owns stock in the UP and a few other very profitable ventures. They have more money than we could ever imagine.”
What Kate was saying was that the Fletchers had immeasurable resources if this feud went on, and it likely would. They had traveled out west from a far city to find their nephew. No one endured that many miles for weeks on end to engage in a day visit.
There was no reason to doubt the information. Before becoming Constance Huckabee, the marshal’s wife was married to a man named Pierce. He’d been a very successful businessman before he died.
“Do you think they want to take Nathanial away?” Kate wrung her hands.
Nolan doubted she was really asking. It was the only logical explanation. Why else would they be following him? More so, Kate was looking to have her fear, their fear, confirmed. She glanced over her shoulder toward their son.
“Nolan!” Kate nearly screamed.
Nolan jumped to his feet. Fletcher was shoving something at the boy, and he dropped the watermelon in his hands.
Nolan ran.
“You ass!” Nate lit up with a blue streak of curses, kicking away the dirty piece of food on the ground, firing splatters at Lem Fletcher, his trouser legs catching the brunt of it.
Deloris Fletcher threw down a coin, quickly p
roducing another piece. She held it out with both hands toward Nathanial, appeasing the fiery tongue.
Nate hesitantly took the food from her.
Nolan’s boots pounded the dirt. Fletcher looked up. Their eyes clashed. One man against another. Only, their terms of engagement were very different. Nolan was charging. If he got his hands on that son of a bitch … But Fletcher snatched his wife’s arm, whirled her in the opposite direction, and quick as a blink, they disappeared into the crowd. More people had flooded the area to satisfy their hunger, inadvertently forming a hedge.
Nolan hunkered in front of Nate. “You okay?”
The child nodded, then spit a seed. He didn’t seem shaken, just concerned about eating dessert. After Nolan and Mr. Fletcher’s earlier altercation, the boy had been clingy. Not this time. Maybe because there’d been no shoving or loud words. Nolan took an easy breath.
“What did Fletcher give you?” From the picnic spot, Nolan hadn’t been able to make out exactly what the man had pushed on Nathanial.
Nate handed him the tintype that Nolan had seen earlier and a sealed letter. Nolan wasted no time tearing open the envelope. As he silently read, his blood began to boil. He was right. There would be a court hearing, a custody battle. He needed to discuss this with Kate immediately.
“What’s it say?” Nate cocked his head, staring at Nolan. “I ain’t ever seen that vein in your neck thump like that.”
“Son, this is serious.” Nolan wagged the letter. “We need to go back to the house with your ma and talk about it.”
Nathanial threw down the rind. “I don’t wanna. I didn’t get Jesse his balloon, and me and Deputy wanna ride the carousel again.”
It was hard to be upset with him when his little cheeks and all around his mouth were painted with pink juice, resembling a clown. And he had a right to be a kid. This sudden intrusion in their lives was something none of them foresaw. They’d come there to share in good times. He didn’t fault the boy for feeling slighted.
Kate appeared next to Nolan. “What did they want this time?” She pulled Nathanial into her skirt, holding him close.
The boy peeled away and looked up at his mother. “Can we stay? I don’t wanna leave the celebration.”
“Nathanial.” Nolan scowled.
His son knew better than to play his mother and father against one another. If one of them said no, then the answer was just that. He wasn’t to go to the other and try to get away with something. Nolan had already told the child they needed to take time out and discuss this new development.
“What?” Kate’s gaze flicked between them, looking lost.
Nolan handed her the letter and picture. As she scanned each line, he watched the color drain from her face.
“Do you think they can prove that?” She replaced the letter into the envelope, then stared at the photograph.
“Prove what?” Nate jetted onto his tiptoes, leaning in, staring at the picture the same as Kate.
Nolan recalled Fletcher mentioning correspondence between his wife and her late sister. Perhaps one of those letters contained Lucinda’s last will and testament. Would an old letter stand up in court when, by all accounts, it could be disputed as a false document? According to the paper he’d just read, the Fletchers were claiming she’d granted them guardianship.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“I do look like her.” Nathanial touched the image of who they believed to be his birth mother. “But I don’t really remember her. Just that we lived above a saloon and it was always noisy.” Nate was quiet for a long minute. His gaze seemed faraway, not in the present.
“Sometimes, I would have to wait in the hallway all by myself while Lucinda entertained a customer in our room. Strange men was always kissin’ her, touching her, or tryin’ to. I remember weird sounds. There was another woman. I can’t recall what she looked like, but if she saw me millin’ there in the hall, she’d take me in her room and give me a book full of sketches to look at.”
Nolan touched his son’s shoulder, wishing he could collect every bad memory and throw them so far away that Nathanial would never be troubled again. The boy stared up at being pressed. His eyes were glassy. None of them could be positive that wasn’t Nate’s birth mother. None of them had ever seen her, and Nate had only a vague inclination of her, never recalling the woman’s face to them.
“Why’d they have to find me?” He wiped a sleeve across his face.
Nolan squatted. “All that photograph proves is that this Lucinda and Deloris Fletcher were sisters … that you may have an aunt.” He hated to say it. “I want to talk to Judge Prescott. I can’t fathom that an adoption ruling could be reversed on the grounds of what some obscure relative who shows up unexpectedly after almost nine years has to say. And that is if she is actually kin. We don’t know that.”
“I hope you’re right,” Kate added.
Nathanial grinned at the two of them.
“I saw Judge Prescott with his wife earlier at the baking contest. Maybe he’s still around.” Kate’s head twisted in every direction.
“So can we stay?” Nate’s grin grew into a hopeful smile.
Nolan couldn’t help chuckling. He nodded. For now, Nate had enough details. The last thing Nolan wanted was the child getting stuck in those memories that caused him to shrink up inside himself, and as the boy’s father, he could hardly take the tears. The more Lucinda’s name was brought up, the more his son might mentally drift off to those awful times.
They returned to the picnic. Only, Nolan had lost any urge to eat.
After studying the photograph, there was no uncertainty. The Lucinda in that picture was Nathanial’s birth mother. The facial and size similarities were stunning, but a picture taken years ago … Was it enough evidence to take Nate from his folks? Nolan wished he could read the other letters, the ones supposedly from Lucinda to Deloris. He didn’t question that sisters would write one another. It was the content in those lines that had him skeptical.
After everyone ate their fill, they got balloons for the kids. Nate insisted on a red one for Jesse. Nolan couldn’t get him to understand that Jesse had been funning him about the balloon. He was too old for such things.
The afternoon passed without any more tricks from the Fletchers. The way they had gone right for Nate the moment he wasn’t close to Nolan and Kate had his senses attentive. Of course, Nolan wasn’t letting the boy wander more than a foot from his side, and both he and Kate were keeping an eye out for Judge Prescott.
The kids played a ring toss game. Then they all watched an archery event.
Evening was coming on when Nolan spotted a familiar face among the throng.
“Nolan, how are you?” Judge Prescott extended a hand. “Kate.” He greeted her with a polite nod.
The Huckabees were turned and talking with another couple. Between them, Nate, Deputy, and little Miles sat on their knees in the dirt, drawing pictures in the dust with their fingers.
“I swear, in all my born days, I ain’t seen so many people … Two in particular have caught my attention.” Nolan pulled the tintype and letter from his pocket.
Thomas J. Prescott was a hanging judge. The law was the law, and he made no exception. He was a fair man, couldn’t be bought, and freed the innocent. He’d been a high-powered attorney in Chicago. Then a close friend had been murdered while buying cattle during a trip west. It was the reason Judge Prescott landed in Birch Creek. He quickly acclimated to the climate, the breed of men around him, and took it upon himself to stay and see that enforcement of laws was brought into the territory. Few towns had a sheriff, let alone a judge. Birch Creek was lucky enough to have both, and good ones at that.
“I wouldn’t worry. Nathanial doesn’t remember his birth mother, and one photo and a few letters don’t seem like much of a case. If the letters are that old, are they legible? It could be that Mrs. Fletcher is reading into them, missing her sister more as the years pass instead of healing, wanting to hold on to a little piece of
what she lost.” Thomas patted Nolan’s shoulder. “She was a whore. I can’t imagine anything she had written about was all that pertinent. Most women in that profession, if you will, don’t want a child.” Prescott whispered over the kids’ heads. “They have their ways of taking care of such situations, but I understand she was deeply in love with Jim Younger.”
Kate, standing tight to his side, squeezed Nolan’s arm. He knew what she was thinking, and it was a mistake. Not all women were like her and loved their kids. They might have loved the men who fathered the child, deceiving themselves into believing that a baby would force his love, bring them closer. That was rarely the case, or so he’d encountered a few times. Then she’d take her hate out on that child. Kate needed to remember what Nate had said earlier. That he’d been left on his own in a dirty saloon while his so-called mother screwed men within earshot. Nolan wouldn’t call that caring. So the chances of her leaving behind a single word specifically announcing what should be done with Nathanial in the case of her death were slim to none.
Thomas Prescott looked at Kate, who kept glancing down at Nate with tears in her eyes. “Even if, say, this Lucinda did write something down about Nathanial, without a reliable witness to connect all the parts, it would really just be Mrs. Fletcher’s word. Anything of sustenance in letter form could be disputed as a forgery. For heaven’s sake, it’s been how long? Almost nine years? As a judge, I would certainly be questioning the lag of time between events. And Mrs. Fletcher would have to provide more proof than a picture as to her blood relationship with the late Lucinda in question. How do we know this is even her? Yes, she does resemble Nathanial, but all Mrs. Fletcher has that I can see is an outdated tintype and a story.”
Nolan nodded, and Kate eased up on her neck-breaking grip. Nathanial was giggling, as was Deputy. They had written Tate loves frogs in the dirt. He was glad to see his son was not allowing a few sour minutes to spoil his day.
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