Redemption, page 3
part #3 of Ladies of Larkspur Series
The mayor pulled a stack of newspapers out of his bottom drawer and set them on his desk, pushing them toward Art. "Here are some newspapers from San Francisco. Her husband's name was William Drake. His byline was Will Drake. You'll see the voice change in his articles. We know Minnie well enough to see her writing style in there. I held onto some of the most notable examples in case there was ever a need."
"She started writing for the paper under her husband's name?" Art's voice was incredulous. Despite yesterday's events, deception wasn't something he associated with the Minnie he remembered.
The mayor shrugged. "You know Minnie's short for Wilhelmina, don't you?"
Art couldn't stop the slow smile that moved across his face. "I'd forgotten that. So, she's Will Drake then?"
The mayor nodded.
"That's good to know."
With a close eye on Art's face, Minnie's father asked, "Is there anything you can tell me about what you are doing to keep an eye on my daughter's safety?"
Art stood, casually put his hat back on his head, and said, "I can't tell you anything of the sort. However, you may wish to know that I'll be stopping by this evening to ask your daughter to go for a walk with me. People might assume I have intentions toward her. I can't say yea or nay to that, but I will be stopping by at least a couple evenings each week to ask her to accompany me on a walk. Weather permitting, of course."
Mayor Smith stood and reached across the desk with a firm handshake. While he still had Art's hand in his grasp, he looked the younger man in the eye and said, "Art, you've proven yourself over and over again to this town. You are capable, and I trust you to do your job. She's my daughter, though, a daughter who's been gone far too long. I ask you to extend me some grace in the coming weeks if it ever seems I'm questioning your ability to do your job."
With a nod, Art said, "Turnabout's fair play, sir, and you've taught me a thing or two about grace over the years."
As Art was leaving the mayor's office, Mrs. Mugglesberry arrived. Art tipped his hat to her and started whistling as he left. He secretly thought of her as the Dragon Lady because she wouldn't let anyone near the mayor without a prior appointment, and even with an appointment she could be unpredictable. Because she was an integral part of the city government, he'd learned to work with her over the years. She'd even smiled at him one time.
Once he stepped out onto the boardwalk, Art began walking toward the stage office, which also handled the mail. He had a letter to send off. Then he needed to return to his office and go through some paperwork. A city council meeting was coming up next month, and he wanted to request funds for an additional part-time deputy. This recently developed need to spend most of his nights at the jail had to stop.
He hadn't minded at first, but back then there hadn't been a petite, black-haired beauty in need of his protection and company. The idea of tending a prisoner locked in a cell after he'd already put in a twelve or fourteen hour day didn't hold the same appeal it had when he'd first taken the sheriff's job.
Art tucked the newspapers the mayor had given him under his arm. As soon as he had a chance, he would read them. Puzzling over the mystery of Minnie Smith Drake, the sheriff kept coming back to one simple question.
What went so wrong in her life that her own parents had to hire an investigator in order to get news of her?
Chapter Five
"Minnie, oh, Minnie. Why have you stayed away so long?" Concern furrowed Sarah's brow. "I missed you so much. You've been elusive in your letters, never answering most of the questions I ask. I've been worried. Is something wrong?"
Minnie ruffled young Ethan's wispy hair. "Life in California didn't turn out quite the way I had hoped."
Sarah gave her a knowing look before shaking her head. Smiling, she said, "Then tell me about college. It sounded like you were partial to Mills Seminary. Were you?"
"I loved it!" Minnie said, enthusiasm rushing the words from her mouth. "I learned so much there and had such a wonderful time. I belonged. It was…" Her voice trailed off as she searched for the words to do it justice. "It was amazing."
"And then a man came along," Sarah said.
Rolling her eyes, Minnie said, "I got swept off my feet. I fell head-first into love and didn't realize until it was too late that the man I loved wasn't even real. He was a persona put on by a man who thought I had enough money to support him. Once we were married, and he realized that wasn't the case, he stopped pretending to be someone he wasn't. That's how I first saw what he'd been hiding from me, who he really was."
"Did he hit you?" Sarah's eyes widened as she asked the words.
Minnie shook her head. "He was terribly unkind, but, no, he didn't make a habit of hitting me." She swallowed her guilt. Her words were more true than not. Then, changing the subject, she said, "Tell me about life as a mom and wife and how wonderful it is. Any brothers or sisters for Ethan in the offing?"
For a moment Minnie was afraid Sarah would rebel against her explanation. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when Sarah gave in and said, "Life couldn't be better. There's not a more loved wife than I in the whole territory, and my son is both a terror and a delight. Life in a hotel is always interesting. There's never a boring moment with Samuel at the helm. I can't imagine ever being happier than I am at present. God is so good, Minnie. My life is more than I ever imagined it could be. All because I allowed Him to get ahold of me and take control."
Coming from anyone else, those words would have conveyed a veiled criticism. As it was, Minnie was still uncomfortable with the implication. She forced a smile. "I'm happy for you, Sarah. You've got everything you ever dreamed of, haven't you?"
"I'd love to have more children, but it took three years before Ethan came along. Doc's not sure we'll ever be able to have more."
Putting her hand on Sarah's arm, Minnie asked, "Was the delivery hard?"
Sarah laughed. "Of course it was! But it was worth every minute, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, even if it meant having another little terror. You've never seen a kid get into so much trouble before. If he can't find it, he makes it."
Minnie continued to direct the conversation by asking about people in town, not allowing Sarah a chance to question her further about her life in San Francisco. A good friend, Sarah allowed it.
"Mary and Grady have two little ones, and Mary's brothers are men now. Clive went off to Montana to work on a horse ranch. I think they said he has an apprenticeship up there. Bobby will be graduating this coming May, then he's going off to medical school. He's been working with Doc Billingsly these last few years and has become indispensable. That boy has done everything from deliver babies to set bones and help the occasional rancher whose cow or horse was acting out of sorts."
Leaning forward, Sarah lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Samuel tells me there's some quiet talk among the town's leaders. They're thinking of offering to help pay his college expenses and lock him into a contract so he'll come back here and be our town doc when he's done learning everything he needs to know. I don't think anybody's said anything to him about it yet, so mum's the word."
Ethan climbed into Minnie's lap then, interrupting the conversation. "Read!" In his pudgy hands was a book of children's fairy tales.
Minnie nodded to Sarah, acknowledging that she would keep what she'd been told quiet. Then she took the book from Ethan, cuddled his warm little body close, and with a catch in her voice, began to read. "Once upon a time…"
Selfishly, she had wanted children. William would have been a terrible father, and being saddled with him would have been a weighty plight for any child to bear. Nevertheless, on those days when loneliness had been an unmanageable burden, she had wished for a babe of her own to fill her days with love. Now, surrounded by people who cherished her, with little chance to be alone, that desire for a child should have abated. Instead, Minnie found as she held Sarah's young son, that the wish to have a growing family of her own had not been left behind in San Francisco with her dead husband.
She blinked back tears of self-pity as she read to young Ethan, filling his imagination with tales of happily-ever-after.
****
That evening as dusk approached, Art knocked at the Smith's front door and asked if Minnie could join him for a stroll. "It sure is cold out, Art. Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mrs. Smith asked in a worried voice.
"We'll keep a nice brisk pace and stay warm, ma'am. Minnie's in good hands with me. I'll make sure she's returned safe and sound, don't you worry."
"Let them go, dear," the mayor said to his wife. "I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do."
With a suspicious look at her husband, Mrs. Smith waved them out the door and admonished them to, "Keep warm!"
****
"How does it feel to be back home?" Art wanted to know.
"It's surreal. I'm not sure it's quite true yet. At least, I wasn't."
"What changed to make it feel more real?" he wanted to know.
"Baby Ethan threw up on me. That was pretty real." Her soft chuckle sounded musical to him.
They strolled on for a bit more before Art asked, "Will you continue working now that you're back in Larkspur?"
Minnie's step faltered. "How did you know I was working?"
He shrugged and said, "It makes sense. Your husband passed away what, five months ago? You'd have to have been doing something to support yourself."
They stepped over an icy patch in the road, and Art held her hand steady on his arm to make sure she didn't slip. Once they got past the ice, she answered. "I was doing some writing for a local newspaper there in San Francisco. I didn't come across the job because I wanted it, but once I had it, I discovered how much I loved it. The editor started me off with some basic reporting, but after almost a year, they moved me into writing serials. There's nothing more fun than getting to use my imagination to tell wonderful stories for the readers." Her voice radiated enthusiasm.
He kept walking. "You enjoyed it."
"That obvious, huh?" She gave a little laugh. "My editor is going to let me continue working long distance. I supplied him with a month's worth of serials before I left San Francisco. I need to get more written and mailed off as soon as I can. Writing the stories out all at once is different than how I used to do it, but I think the end product will prove to be better developed this way."
"So what newspaper are they in? I'd love to read them," Art said lightly.
Waving her hand, Minnie said, "Oh, it's a small paper back in California. It wouldn't have any relevance to anyone here in Idaho Territory."
Wishing she would trust him, Art brought them to the end of Main Street and began leading them around the community's center, known as The Green. "Is there anything you need to tell me?" he asked.
"Such as?"
"Have you received correspondence from anyone unusual? Have you noticed any strange people in town watching you? Following you?"
"Arty, you're starting to spook me." He had long ago stopped allowing anyone to call him Arty, but on her lips the name sounded musical.
"It's not my intention to spook you, Minnie, but it's important you understand I'm keeping your secret at a cost. You need to be honest with me, and you need to let me know if anything unusual happens, even if you don't think it's important. I can't watch you all day long, so I need you to be looking out for yourself and reporting to me anything you notice that's out of the ordinary."
She nodded in the dimming light and said, "Okay, I'll try. I'm not very good at trusting people."
"Who do you turn to when you need advice?" he asked.
"No one. I figure things out for myself. I've had to." Her answer rang with quiet defiance.
"I hope you'll eventually feel you can count on me," he said. She started to protest, but he stopped her. "I think I understand." He looked at her, hoping she could see how earnest he was. "Try to remember that while you may not be able to think of a person to trust, you can always trust God. He's listening all the time, and He gives great advice."
With a sigh, Minnie said, "I know. I'm afraid I've been a terrible disappointment to Him, too."
"You say 'too' as if you've got a whole slew of disappointed people to contend with."
"If you knew the whole truth, you'd be added to the list of people disappointed in me."
"I doubt that, Minnie," he said, his tone casual. "We all make mistakes, and most of those times, we're harder on ourselves than anyone else is. If you're so certain you've let down the people around you, maybe it's because you're disappointed in yourself." Minnie's look was peevish, but she didn't protest. "Give it some thought, that's all I ask."
Minnie nodded, her raven locks bouncing with the motion. "You're all grown up now, aren't you, Arty Paulson? You didn't just grow into your Adam's apple and get an adult job. You went and did some maturing on the inside, too, where it matters most."
"We all have to grow up eventually."
"Thank you for wanting to look out for me and for wanting me not to be so hard on myself. I'll give some thought to what you said."
"And you'll tell me if you see anyone unusual around town or if you get anything strange in the mail?"
"Yes, sir," she said with a mock salute.
They were back at the Smith house, and Art opened the front door to let her in. It was indeed frigid outside. He said a quick goodnight to the family before hurrying home.
He had plans to start a blazing fire in his hearth. He would enjoy the heat, but he needed the light, too. He had a collection of San Francisco newspapers to read.
Chapter Six
February 1883
Minnie settled into a routine of sorts. She walked with Art two or three times each week. When she'd first returned to town and seen him, she'd thought it would be hard to shake the memory of the gangly youth she recalled. That notion, however, had been put to rest sooner than she'd expected as she got to know him. He was far more intelligent and engaging than she'd ever given him credit for.
"So tell me, Minnie, have you noticed anything unusual going on in town the last couple of days?" Art asked as they were seated comfortably in her family's front sitting room. A snow storm had blown in during the day, making an outdoor walk both slippery and impractical.
"I haven't, Art, but thank you for asking," she said with a hint of humor in her voice.
"What has you so amused?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"You always start your interviews the same way, you know. At least, you do on the evenings we go walking. I wondered if you'd do the same tonight since we stayed in," she answered. Her grin gave her words an up-beat of humor.
"It was nice of your folks to let us have the sitting room to ourselves."
"Trying to change the subject?"
"So you think you have me all figured out?" he asked.
Minnie took him in as he sat there. His hat had been removed, and he was leaning back on the couch, relaxed. Before she could prevent the words' escape, they came out. "I enjoy seeing this side of you."
Art's eyes widened, and his pupils flared.
Caution stealing her joy, she realized how her words may have sounded. He didn't give her a seductive or lecherous smirk, though. That sort of indecent behavior had been common among the men of her husband's acquaintance.
"Like what?" His words contradicted the reaction she'd seen in his eyes, but Minnie was grateful. Being a gentleman seemed to come naturally to Arty, and for reasons she couldn't quite explain, that helped restore her joy.
Minnie couldn't help the smile spreading across her face as she answered, "I've seen you push your hat back and play the country bumpkin to try to put people at ease. Why, you did that to me my first day here. I've also seen you pull your hat forward and lightning fast change into a serious lawman. But this," she said, waving her hand in a vague motion toward him and his hat-less head, "is new. Why, I think I might now be seeing the real Arty Paulson."
"I enjoy seeing you smile, Minnie," he said. "Being home seems to agree with you."
****
He could have kicked himself as he saw the shadow cross her face. Only a moment before she'd been smiling, and he'd seen a hint of the old Minnie snap and sparkle in her eyes.
"Have they made any progress in their investigation?" she asked.
"How would I know anything about that?" he asked.
"It's nice to be back home, Art, but I have no security here. Each day, I wait for the San Francisco police to show up and say they've somehow proven I killed my husband, and to haul me off. Prison, or even execution, is on my mind a lot. Do you know what that will do to my parents?"
"Minnie…"
"Each evening when you take me out for a walk, you start by grilling me about who I've seen and what I've heard around town. Then, about halfway through the walk, you change the subject and start talking about trivial things to make me laugh and to get my mind off my problems."
"Minnie…"
"I think you're a fine sheriff, Art, and I'm sorry if I still slip up and call you Arty sometimes. The men I came into contact with in San Francisco were often uncouth. You, on the other hand, are genuine, sincere, and wholesome. The way you care about people seems to come natural. I reckon most people wouldn't think twice about asking me all their questions, then dumping me back at my front door upset and agitated, but that's not you. After you get the information you need, you go through the effort of putting me at ease so I won't walk away troubled and fearful. You're a good man, but if you spend too much time with me, I'm afraid your goodness will become tainted."
