The Lawman's Bride

“She’ll just have to get her mind right about that,” Clay replied. He glanced out at the wagon still on the street. “Know anything about animals?”

“Know a little about horses.”

“Dogs?”

“Your dog out there?”

Clay nodded.

Caleb followed him down the walkway and through the arbor trellis laden with fragrant roses to the wagon bed.

Sam raised his head with a soft whine.

Caleb petted the animal, then turned him over and put an ear to his chest. “He was probably low enough to escape most of the smoke, unless he was directly in the fire.”

Clay shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s getting up there in years, isn’t he?”

Clay nodded. “Can’t see or hear much anymore. Doesn’t move farther than a few feet on his own.”

Caleb scratched behind the dog’s ear. “His old bones probably hurt something fierce.”

“I know there isn’t a miracle for the old boy.” Clay leaned a hip against the tail gate. “Just don’t have the heart to put ‘im down.”

“An injection would do it. It wouldn’t hurt him.”

Clay absorbed the words. “You could do it?”

The doctor nodded.

“I’ll be thinkin’ on it, Doc. Thanks.”

The driver was still waiting on the seat. “She gonna be okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Clay called and offered the doc his hand. “Thanks again.” He climbed onto the wagon seat. As the driver pulled forward, Clay glanced back at the big white two-story house.

It was tough to imagine someone running into the burning jail for the sake of a dog. The impression he had of Sophie was one of a capable women. A woman sure of herself.

She claimed she’d seen the fire from the park and come to have a look. Alone in the park, an unprotected young woman on the streets of Newton at night—she was either fearless or foolish. It was his job to care which.

Ellie Chaney picked up a sleeping infant from the crib. “I’ll be right back as soon as I lie him down in my room.”

Sophie nodded. All she wanted was to sleep and with any luck escape the burning pain in her chest and throat. This kind stranger had helped her bathe and wash her hair, but the stench of smoke remained.

Ellie returned a few minutes later with a cotton night rail. “In the morning I’ll find something for you to wear home.”

“How did you know Mr. Webb’s name?”

“I used to work at the Arcade,” she replied. “Until I broke my arm. Caleb hired me to take care of his son, Nate, until I was better, and one thing led to another. Now here I am, crazy in love and married to him.”

“How old is your baby?”

She turned back the covers on the narrow bed with a smile. “Seven months. His name is David.” She paused a moment, then fluffed up a pillow. “I wasn’t sure I wanted a baby. Caleb had his own child when I married him, and we’re raising my two younger brothers. I had kind of a history, you could say.”

“I understand history.” Sophie had never said anything quite as revealing to anyone, and surprised herself by doing so. It must be because she was so tired and her chest burned so badly. She couldn’t resist asking, “What made you change your mind?”

She’d never believed she would make a good mother, so it was better that she spare a child the suffering.

“Caleb changed my mind. I didn’t know any good men before I met him. It took a while but I learned to trust him. And I learned to trust myself. Our life was good. Our marriage would have been fine just the way it was. But choosing to have a child together formed a deeper trust.”

Sophie studied the other woman, wondering what kind of history she spoke of, wondering if Ellie Chaney had a past that could even compare to Sophie’s. If she knew the people Sophie had known, she would have thought twice about bringing another child into the world. “Well, you seem very happy.”

“We are. Caleb is the kindest, most gentle man I’ve ever known.”

“You’re very fortunate.”

Ellie turned the wick on the lamp low. “I would never ask questions,” she told Sophie. “I know there are some things that can’t be shared. But if you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I want you to remember I’m here.”

Had Ellie somehow seen right through her? Sophie’s throat tightened, adding to her discomfort. Her eyes had done nothing but burn and streak tears since she’d escaped that jailhouse. The high level of tension from the evening had obviously weakened her defenses. She wasn’t an emotional person. She was stronger than this. “Thank you.”

The woman wished her a good night and closed the door on her way out. Silence wrapped around Sophie. She imagined the handsome doctor and his pretty wife in their bedroom with their baby lying between them. They were kind and compassionate, unfamiliar qualities where she’d come from. Their generosity unsettled her thinking, shook her world. Were they normal? Was this what other people were like? She compared them to Amanda and Emma and the families they’d spoken of.

How many good people like these had been victims of Sophie’s deceit in the past? She couldn’t bear to think of it.

She glanced at the window, where the parted curtain revealed a slim portion of night sky. Newton was filled with dozens of neighborhoods and rows of houses just like this one—well, not all quite as nice, but similar homes where families dwelled.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut and remembered a time many years ago, a time before her father had sold their home and bought a covered wagon, a time when she’d had older brothers—when her mother had tucked her in at night. The long forgotten memory of a rose-papered room and a small simple bed wavered at the edge of her mind. With that memory drifted the scent of lilacs on a summer night. Her mother’s perfume or fragrant bushes outside the window? She struggled to make the elusive memory clear, but it wavered and vanished.

All that was good and safe had changed along the westward trail when a Sioux war party had attacked their wagon train, and killed her father and her brothers. She and her mother had been taken captive. The chief had taken Sophie, adopted her and treated her well. Her mother had been given to a brave and had conformed to her life as a captive. She had advised Sophie to do the same. “You’re a brave girl, Sophie,” her mother had whispered. “Do whatever you must to stay alive.” Sophie had been following that advice all the years since.

They’d been in the Sioux camp five winters when her mother caught the typhus and died. In mourning her mother’s death, pain over the loss of her father and brothers surfaced, pain she’d avoided facing before. Acute loneliness had become her constant companion. To comfort her, the old chief had given Sophie her mother’s possessions, among them her mother’s gold wedding ring. Tek Garrett had taken the ring for safekeeping, that loss becoming the one regret she had in running away from him. She hadn’t dared tried to find it and suspected he kept it on him.

Sophie barely remembered family, scarcely remembered feeling loved. Her memories were distorted by time and anger. Getting up, she padded to the open window, drew aside the gingham curtain and peered into the night. The doctor’s house was one of the tallest in the neighborhood and afforded an expansive view of the neighboring rooftops.

The sky to the north was still hazy with smoke. Had the marshal bought her story? How crazy would it make him, wondering how that prisoner had been freed? The keys still hung in the lock, and the iron doors would be standing there when the marshals looked the place over tomorrow.

Damned sloppy job of making herself invisible.

Chapter Four

The next morning Ellie brought Sophie a pitcher of water and clothing. “You’re taller than I am, so I looked for the longest skirt I could find. Fortunately you’ll only be wearing it until you get to your dormitory.”

“It’s fine, thank you. Can I help you with anything this morning?”

“Just come down to breakfast. Everything will be ready in a few minutes.”

A short time later, dressed in Ellie’s fresh-smelling clothing and with her hair braided over one shoulder, Sophie found her way to the kitchen by listening to the chatter and following her nose.

The chairs around the table were nearly filled, and Ellie was carrying full plates from the stove. The enticing smells of sausage and coffee made her stomach rumble.

Ellie greeted her with a wide smile. “There you are.”

“Good morning, Miss Hollis,” the doctor said, standing.

The young men followed his lead and stood until she was seated.

Ellie rested her hand on a tall slender young man’s shoulder. “Sophie, this is my brother Benjamin.”

“How do, miss.” He was probably about seventeen, tall with bright blue eyes and fair hair.

“Benjamin.”

“And my youngest brother, Flynn,” Ellie added.

Flynn was dark complected, with brown eyes and a bashful, dimpled smile. “I’m having a birthday soon. I’m gonna be eleven!”

“Well, happy birthday,” Sophie told him.

“This little man is Nate.” The toddler hid a bashful smile in Ellie’s white apron. “And that’s David.”

The baby Ellie had carried from the room the night before was awake and sitting in a wooden high chair. He paused in drawing one stubby finger through a puddle of oatmeal on the scarred tray to give her a toothless smile.

“You have a lovely family.”

The doctor and his wife shared a smile.

Ellie handed her husband a plate of eggs; he helped himself to a couple and passed it. “After school Benjamin works with my husband. He’s going to go to medical school.”

“That’s an admirable goal,” Sophie told him.

“I been thinkin’, Ellie,” Benjamin said.

“What about?” She set a stack of pancakes on the table and Flynn immediately stabbed two.

“Guests first, little brother,” she scolded him.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I been thinkin’ about studying to be a veterinarian,” Benjamin went on. “Instead of medical school.”

His sister paused with a tray of sausage.

“It’s an animal doctor.”

Ellie smiled and handed him the tray. “I know what a veterinarian is, Ben. I think you’ll be good at whatever you set your mind to.” She touched his hair in a loving gesture, and his lean cheeks tinged pink.

He leaned away. “C’mon, Ellie.”

“I’m sure Miss Hollis isn’t shocked. She probably has brothers and sisters of her own. Don’t you, Miss Hollis?”

Sophie set down the fork she’d picked up, keeping her expression placid. “Of course I do. I have a whole family back in Pennsylvania.”

“What’s in Pennsylvania?” Flynn asked.

“Boys a lot like you,” she replied with a practiced smile.

The rasp of a cranked doorbell sounded.

“I’ll get it!” Flynn shouted and jumped up to run for the front hall.

He returned moments later with Marshal Connor.

Clay toyed with the brim of the hat he held. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning, Marshal.” Ellie rose to grab a cup. “Join us for breakfast.”

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am. Just came for Miss Hollis.”

The impact of those particular words zigzagged an alarm inside Sophie’s skull. He’d come for her? Had he learned something? Sophie studied the lawman standing in the Chaneys’ kitchen. One moment she’d been swept into the family atmosphere and the next, familiar tension crept into her muscles.

“She’s having her breakfast,” Ellie said easily. “Have you already eaten?”

He glanced at the table, his attention clearly on the food now. Sophie relaxed a degree. He’d come to escort her to the Arcade, not to jail.

The doctor got up and scooted Flynn’s chair and the baby to make more room, then reached for Clay’s hat. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Looks good,” he agreed and took a seat.

Ellie fried a few more eggs and poured him coffee.

“All the men are accounted for,” he told them.

“That’s good news,” Caleb said.

“That it is.” The marshal took a sip of his coffee. “But it sure leaves me wonderin’ how that prisoner got away. Keys were left in the cell door.”

“Do you have any idea how the fire started?” Ellie asked.

“No, ma’am. If the man had an accomplice, it would make sense that someone broke in and let him out. Someone might’ve started a fire thinkin’ there was a marshal inside and that the fire would distract him. But anyone halfway smart would’ve watched the jail and known where all my men were. Still, can’t quite picture DeWeise with a partner though. He didn’t seem the type. Just a freeloader, travelin’ from one place to the next.”

Sophie had never heard him string so many words together all at once. “Is it common practice to leave the jail unattended when there’s a prisoner locked inside?” she asked.

Marshal Connor appeared uncomfortable at her question. He used his napkin. “No, miss. That’s a mistake I take the blame for.”

“You had no way of knowing what would happen,” Ellie assured him.

“Makes no difference,” he replied. “A lawman has to be prepared.”

Ellie changed the subject by asking Sophie if she knew Goldie Krenshaw.

“Yes, of course. Her room is down the hall from mine.”

“I used to be her roommate,” Ellie said. “We’re still good friends.”

Once they’d finished breakfast, Clay picked up his hat. “Thank you kindly for everything, Mizz Chaney. Doc.”

Sophie stood and picked up her plate.

Ellie stopped her. “You run along now.”

“Thank you for your generosity. It was a pleasure meeting you and your family.”

Ellie touched her arm. “I’m sorry about the circumstances, but I’m glad we met.”

“Be waitin’ out front,” the marshal said.

Sophie glanced at his broad back in the leather vest and followed slowly. Her skirt was an inch or so too short, revealing her boot tops and stockings, and she felt awkward.

“Your clothing is in here.” Ellie handed her a bundle. “I’m afraid it smells like smoke.”

“Not a worry,” Sophie assured her. “Our laundry is done for us, as you know. I’ll instruct them to throw it away if it smells too bad.”

Dr. Chaney was standing near the front door when they reached it.

She thanked him again. “I’ll bring your payment around tomorrow.”

“No need. The marshal paid.”

She raised her gaze to his.

He shrugged. “Told him you wouldn’t be happy.”

He opened the door and she preceded him out to where the marshal waited.

Sophie glanced from the horse and buggy to the stone-faced man. “I could have walked.”

“I’m sure you could’ve, but I brought a rig so you wouldn’t have to.”

Secretly glad she wouldn’t have to parade down the busy streets of Newton with her boot tops and stockings on display, she let him assist her to the springed seat.

The Chaneys waved from the porch of their home as the buggy drew away.

“Nice folks,” the marshal said.

He had told her he would make things right with Mrs. Winters and the manager, so Sophie was going to have to let him do that.

“Breathin’ easier today?”

She nodded.

Horses and vehicles lined the street they turned onto. The wood platforms and bricked area in front of the Arcade were crowded with passengers waiting to get back onto the two trains that stood on the tracks, smoke bellowing from the stacks on the black steam engines.

“Looks like we’ll have to leave the buggy here and walk,” Clay said. He stopped and helped her down.

The train crews had eaten and were the first allowed back into the cars. Passengers crowded in close behind them.

Clay took Sophie’s hand and blazed a path through the tight gathering. “Looks like you just missed a big rush.”

“Undoubtedly there’s plenty of cleanup before the next arrival,” she replied.

He said something else, but loud voices distracted her. In a language Sophie understood perfectly, two braves were arguing with a man in a black jacket and a bowler. She identified the man right off as a fakir, a man who picked pockets and sold worthless tickets and land deeds to unsuspecting travelers.

The plains Indians were drawing attention from the crowd.

“That man…the one there.” She pointed him out to Clay. “He doesn’t look like a passenger, does he?”

“Which one?”

“The one with the hat who’s arguing with those Sioux.”

Clay maneuvered them closer. The Indians were talking among themselves now. Clay shrugged. “There does seem to be an argument.”

Shit, shit, shit, Sophie thought. Why wasn’t he picking up on what was going on? Convinced he’d catch on in a minute, she bit her tongue. The Indians were digging into their pouches now, and Sophie couldn’t waste another minute. “He’s one of those men who sell fake vouchers to the passengers.”

Clay shouldered his way through the crowd to confront the man she spoke of. He spotted Clay, slapped his hand on his bowler, and turned to flee. Clay waded through the crowd, but the man had disappeared, impossible to find.

Before he returned Sophie quickly explained to the dark-skinned brave who wore a flannel shirt with fringed deerskin pants that they shouldn’t trade their money for papers. There wasn’t a word in their language for lie. “No food vouchers. You buy food with your coins.”

“Did you give him any money?” Clay asked, coming up to them.

The man replied, but Clay only frowned. Another Indian beside him added something as well.

“No money was exchanged,” Sophie told Clay. “You chased him off before he got their money.” She pointed to the pieces of paper in their hands. “No good,” she said with a hand gesture and took the papers. “The marshal will take these.”

The Indians spoke among themselves and Sophie drew Clay away.

“How did you know what was going on?” he asked.

“I’ve seen that man out here before.” She hadn’t of course, but she knew his kind.

A woman placed her hand on Sophie’s arm. “Kathryn? Kathryn Fuller?”

Sophie recognized her immediately as someone with whom she’d had dealings in another city. Shit, shit, shit! Her pulse increased at the surprise, even as she shrugged off the woman’s touch. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“But I was certain. You look just like the woman. Your hair is different…and your eyes now that I look more closely. Look, Robert, isn’t she the spitting image of Mrs. Fuller?”

The tall thin man at her side peered at Sophie through gold-rimmed spectacles. Sophie heart hammered. Would he recognize her, whip a poster from his pocket, scream “aha!” and ruin her new life? She concentrated on appearing bored and inconvenienced.

“There is perhaps a vague similarity.”

Relief flooded over Sophie. Perspiration had formed under her clothing.

“Come dear, our train will be leaving shortly.”

“Excuse us now.” Clay took Sophie’s arm and led her away.

That had been another close call. Sophie was like a cat with nine lives, but the stress was wearing and those lives were quickly getting used up. When she showed up in the busy dining hall with the marshal, all attention diverted to them. Mrs. Winters quickly whisked them away from the prying eyes of customers and employees. Minutes later they stood in Harrison Webb’s office, the small wood-paneled room smelling of lemon wax.

“A night away without a pass is cause for immediate suspension, Miss Hollis.” Mrs. Winters wore her haughtiest look. “It’s inappropriate behavior for one of Mr. Harvey’s employees. Especially if you are in some sort of trouble with the law.”

“Hold your horses.” Clay stopped her cold, then turned to Harrison. “How’re you doing?”

“Not complaining,” the man replied with a nod.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Winters stiffened. “We have an errant girl here.”

“You heard tell of the fire at the jail last night?” Clay went on.

“I did,” Harrison replied.

“What does that have to do with my employee?” Mrs. Winters asked.

Clay gave them an explanation of the previous night’s events. “Miss Hollis ran into the burnin’ building in search of lives.” His deep voice and solemn inflections made the story even more dramatic. He told of Sophie’s role in saving old Sam’s life and her consequent night at the doctor’s home.

“Thank you for looking after Miss Hollis,” Mr. Webb said. “And for coming in like this to explain.”

“Miss Hollis risked her neck. There could’ve been an injured deputy in there for all she knew. Or prisoners.”

“Er. Wasn’t there a prisoner?” the hotel manager asked. He knew all about DeWeise.

“Got away during the excitement,” Clay answered.

Mr. Webb grimaced. “Mr. Harvey won’t be happy about that.”

Clay turned his hat by the brim as he spoke. “None of us are real happy about that.”

“Heard the jailhouse is burned clear to the ground.”

“We’re settin’ up temporary quarters in a building across the street from where we were. Liveryman used the old bars to put together a couple o’ cages. They’ll do for cells while a new building is built.”

With a nod, the marshal excused himself and Mrs. Winters marched away, clearly displeased.

Sophie was left facing the manager. “I don’t know whether what you did was brave or foolish, Sophie,” he said.

“I couldn’t not do it.”

He nodded, his face a study of concern. “I must insist you keep a far less public profile from now on. None of us can afford for you to bring this much negative attention to yourself. Harvey Girls have a strict standard to uphold. Your record must be impeccable.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Are you up to performing your duties today?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well.” He gave her a stern look. “See that you stay in Mrs. Winters’s good graces.”

That had always been her intent, she thought, leaving his office.

The bundle Ellie had sent was still in the hallway where Sophie had left it. She carried it up the back stairs and emptied the pockets of her smelly skirt. Adding her clothing to the nearest laundry bag in the hall, she took time to include a note.

Back in her room, she dressed in a clean pressed uniform, dabbed lilac water on her wrists and throat and arranged her hair. She paused with the folded papers in her palm. She needed to destroy these posters. Hiding them wasn’t good enough.

It was easy to slip down to the overheated bustling kitchen, slide aside a stove lid, and drop the papers into the fire. Pleased with herself, she stepped back. The whole task had taken a turn down a dirt road last night, but she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. Now no one was going to run across those drawings and connect her to her past.

She could truly breathe easy again.

After a long blistering meeting with the city and county officers and an exchange of telegrams with the county seat, Clay met with George Lent, a mason, and a carpenter named Frank Prouty to create a list of supplies. He then sent a wire to Topeka ordering brick.

Al Greene pushed a stack of telegrams across the counter toward him. “All these came this afternoon. I knew you’d be back so I didn’t send a runner.”

Clay thanked him and took the messages.

Standing in the shade of the roof over the boardwalk, he thumbed though the papers. He read a couple of follow-up notes regarding the construction of the new jailhouse followed by replies to his queries to neighboring counties and states.

None of the lawmen had information about anyone meeting Morgan’s description. So far the news didn’t flesh out his instincts. He stuffed the messages into his pocket and reached to unloop his horse’s reins from the hitching rail. He still had a full day of getting a temporary office put together ahead, and he had yet to visit the gunsmith and the hardware store.

Mounting, he headed toward north Main. The same group of plains Indians he’d seen earlier were loading supplies into the back of a wagon with the help of one of the mercantile owner’s hired men.

Clay nodded to the men and tipped his hat to the women. The females greeted him with smiles. “No paper,” one of the women said to him.

“No paper,” he agreed, with a grin.

Odd how Sophie had spotted that con going on right there on the platform with so many people crowded together. But then Newton was the place for it, the railroad hub, and everyone who came through by rail passed that station. The people who worked at the Arcade probably saw more than anyone else.

He found himself wondering if he’d have a chance to visit the dining hall with all he had going on. Eating there had become much more appealing of late.