Redemption, page 9
part #3 of Ladies of Larkspur Series
Concern in his voice, Mayor Smith asked, "Has she regained consciousness at all?"
Art nodded and said, "I didn't want her to sleep through the night, so I kept waking her up. Got a fire going there and examined her head as best I could. I can't say for sure how grave it is. You'll have to wait for Doc to examine her."
The three men arrived in front of Doc's office. The mayor jumped off his steed and then reached up to take Minnie.
Art handed Minnie down to her father and dismounted.
"Give me the reins," Samuel said to him. When Art glanced at him, Samuel added, "I'll go bed Mutiny down in his stall behind the sheriff's station. You can pick him up from there whenever you're ready."
With a nod of gratitude, Art said, "Make sure he's warm and give him some extra oats. He saved both our lives."
"Will do." Then Samuel turned to the mayor, who was stepping up onto the boardwalk, Minnie in his arms. "I'll let Mrs. Smith and Sarah know you're in with Doc Billingsly."
"Thank you, Samuel," the mayor said gravely.
****
Art waited in the outer room of Doc's office while Mayor Smith went into the examination room with Minnie. Mrs. Smith rushed through the door and passed by him to join her husband and daughter. Before long Sarah arrived with Ethan in her arms and Samuel on her heels. Reverend Green soon joined them as well. Less than twenty minutes had passed since they rode into town, and already Doc's waiting room was filled near to bursting.
The inner door at last opened and Doc Billingsly stepped out, ushering Mayor and Mrs. Smith into the waiting room. "Sheriff," he said, "I need to have a word with you. Could you please join me?" It was unorthodox for him to be allowed in the exam room while Minnie was still in there, but Art nonetheless stood and followed the doctor back through to the inner room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Doc Billingsly said, "I want the truth, Art. What was her condition when you found her, throughout the night, and this morning?"
Minnie, who had been lying down on the exam table sat up and dangled her legs over the edge. Speaking before Art could get any words out, she asked, "Doc, how long have you known me? Have I ever lied to you?"
Giving her a piercing look, he said, "I delivered you, Minnie, and I've never known you to be dishonest. Outlandish, yes. Dishonest, no. Now tell me what's going on."
Sighing, Minnie pushed her ebony hair back and said, "The buggy lurched to the side. That's the last thing I remember until I was on Sheriff Paulson's horse with him. I think I came to once or twice while we were looking for shelter. It's all quite fuzzy. He took us to the old Riley place rather than into town. My head hurt so much I was afraid to open my eyes. I could have sworn someone was trying to drive a stake into my skull. I couldn't even remove my own shoes because my fingers wouldn't do what I told them."
Art wished she'd left that last part off. He wasn't sure giving the doctor that particular mental image would work in their favor.
Minnie continued, "Sheriff Paulson took care of me by making sure I was warm and safe. He bandaged the wound on my head. I slept off and on most of the night. I know he woke me up at least a couple times. My head still throbs, but I do feel a lot better this morning." Her hand went to her midsection. "I'm kind of nauseated, but that might be hunger."
Art noted Doc's expression before questioning, "Why do you ask?"
Doc turned his piercing gaze on Minnie. "I couldn't even get you to sit up while your parents were in here. Why?"
This time Art jumped in before Minnie could answer, "I asked her to do that, Doc. Everything she said is correct. When I held up two fingers for her last night, she thought I was holding up three. Her speech was slurred. She was unsteady on her feet. I was pretty sure she had a concussion."
Feeling a bit like a kid being called to the front of the classroom, Art added, "I'm thankful she's doing so much better this morning, but, Doc, the truth is, if I brought her into town and she was smiling, laughing, and acting fine, we'd be getting married by the end of the day, and you know it. Neither of us did anything wrong, and I didn't think it was fair for her to be forced into marriage simply because she bounced back so well from a head injury. I'm trying to protect her. That's all."
"Sheriff Paulson was a perfect gentleman the entire time, Doc. I give you my word."
Doc Billingsly looked back and forth between the two of them. "You want me to lie for you?" His voice gave nothing away.
They both shook their heads no. "I'd never ask you to do that, Doc," Art said.
"Then what do you want?"
Minnie, who was looking worse for the wear, lay back down on the exam table. Answering the doctor, Art said, "All I'm asking is that you don't throw her to the wolves."
"Oh come now," Doc said. "Calling them wolves is a bit extreme, don't you think? They're more like hens. Peck, peck, peck."
"Follow your conscience, Doc," replied Art, certain the man understood the townsfolk as well as he did. "You've got to do what you think is proper."
****
Minnie fell back to sleep before Doc and Art exited the exam room. As they stepped out into the waiting room, Doc addressed the growing crowd and said, "I believe Minnie will make a full recovery. Miraculously, I don't see any signs of frostbite, but she does have a concussion. I need to stitch up the wound on her head, and she'll need several days at home to recuperate. It's important she get plenty of rest, so please be understanding if visitors get turned away for a spell."
Then, speaking to Mayor and Mrs. Smith, he said, "Be sure to wake her up at least twice during the night for the first few nights and make her answer simple questions – name, age, where she is. If she can't answer, come get me immediately. You'll also want to limit her food, as she's experiencing some nausea. Soup, bread, the basics. Make sure she can keep that down before you give her anything more substantial."
Still addressing the Smiths, but speaking so that everyone could hear, he said, "I'll be by again this afternoon to check on her. We want to watch for pneumonia. All I can say at the moment is that we all need to thank God for the resilience of youth." Turning his attention to Samuel, he went on to say, "There's a horse out there in need of burying and a buggy that should be retrieved to town. Perhaps you could gather up a couple men and see to it?"
Samuel nodded and slipped out the door. Turning to Art, the doctor said, "Sheriff Paulson, I'm ordering you to stay home and rest today. You can return to your duties in the morning."
With that, the aging doctor went back into the exam room with Minnie and loudly shut the door.
Art had to give him credit. The man hadn't said a single lie but hadn't given them away either.
After saying a general, "Good Day," to everyone in the room, Art stepped out through the front door and went in search of Mutiny.
He and his horse, it seemed, had both earned a day off.
Chapter Fourteen
April 1883
Art stopped by the stage office to collect his mail on the way to work. It was his day to send a telegram to San Francisco, but he wanted to check his mail first to see if he had any additional updates from Detective Wilcox. When he did indeed see an envelope from the detective, he had to resist the urge to tear it open on the spot. Taking his leave, he instead headed toward the sheriff's office so he could read it in peace.
At the mayor's request, he'd not been back to take Minnie on any additional evening walks. He keenly felt her absence but understood the request. Had he and Minnie continued to go walking out, it would have enflamed the delicate sensibilities of those townsfolk who had taken exception to their night alone in the storm.
As it was, the talk had died down. While she didn't get pneumonia, Minnie had developed a terrible cold. She was laid up for over a week after the incident. Art smiled as he thought, not for the first time, that her illness couldn't have been better timed.
Approaching the sheriff's office, he saw the door ajar. Hand on his pistol, he peeked in the edge of the window. The mayor was seated at his desk. Resnapping his holster, Art stepped into the office and said, "Good day, Mayor. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wanted to have a private word with you," the mayor answered, "and fancied stretching my legs a bit. It's good to see the sun shining again, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
"Will you join me for coffee down at the hotel?" asked the mayor.
"Of course, sir. Let me lock back up."
After Art secured the office, he and the mayor stepped out onto the boardwalk. The mayor quietly said, "I want you to keep a pleasant look on your face and act as if we're talking about the weather, okay?"
"Sir?"
"I have a problem I need to discuss with you, and I don't want to risk anyone overhearing."
"Yes, sir, it sure is good to see that sun," Art said in reply.
"Minnie asked me to alert you about some correspondence she received."
Rocks in his stomach, Art said, "Much more weather like this, and I expect Reverend Green will be planning a church picnic."
"She was going to try to sneak over to the sheriff's office to see you, but I caught her in the act and asked that she allow me to deliver a message on her behalf." Then, in a louder voice, the mayor said, "I think a picnic is what this town needs to shake off the winter doldrums."
Art asked, "Did she tell you what's in the letters?"
"No, no, I don't think it's too cold out at all."
"I need to speak to her, and I need to see those letters."
"How would you suggest we do that? Planning picnics has never been my forte."
"Why can't I come by to speak to her?"
Dropping his voice again, the mayor said, "There's a stranger in town. I've tried not to ask too many questions and raise suspicion, but I don't recognize him, and I think I've seen him watching my house on three different occasions."
Biting back an expletive, Art demanded, "And you're only now telling me this?"
"I was going to come see you today anyway, but the letters made it seem more urgent and reminded me of the wisdom to be had in discretion."
"Wise thinking, Mayor. I think that's a good choice."
Sputtering, the mayor said, "What choice?" as they arrived at the door to the hotel.
"Go in and act normal," Art told him.
Once they were seated at a corner table, their waitress brought them coffee. "What kind of pie do you have today?" asked Art.
"It's awful early for pie," was her answer.
"I've always been partial to lemon pie, but tell me what you have," Art answered, ignoring her remark.
Shaking her head, the waitress told him, "We have cherry, peach, and sugar cream pie."
"I'd love a piece of sugar cream pie with my coffee, if you don't mind," he said. "Anything for you, Mayor?"
When the mayor shook his head, the waitress excused herself to go cut the pie.
"What are you doing, Art?" the mayor asked urgently.
"Keep your attention on me while I talk. Don't let your eyes wander. Understand?" The mayor nodded, and Art continued. "There was a man on the opposite boardwalk. I didn't think anything about it until you said you'd caught someone watching your house. Right now the man is still on the opposite boardwalk across from the hotel. He's trying to look casual, leaning against the building and acting as if he belongs. Take a glance in that direction, get a look at the guy, and tell me if it's the same one you've seen outside your house."
Art stopped talking as the waitress approached with his pie. "Here you go, Sheriff. An extra big slice of sugar cream pie." Before she strolled away, the waitress winked at him and said, "One of these days you're going to need to get yourself a wife so you have someone to tell you pie's not fit for breakfast food."
Smiling at her, Art said, "I never said this was breakfast. I had flapjacks, bacon, and eggs not but two hours ago."
The waitress shook her head again, looking at Art as if he were to be pitied, and returned to the kitchen.
As soon as she was out of the room, the mayor said, "It's the same man."
"You need to have a dinner party tonight. You've invited me, and you need to invite at least one other person or family – someone who doesn't work for the city – to make it look innocent."
"My wife won't appreciate me springing that on her."
"No offense, sir, but that's the least of my worries. I need to speak to Minnie, and I need to get a look at those letters."
"Understood."
The man from the boardwalk chose that moment to cross the street. He entered the hotel's dining room and sat down at a table, maneuvering his chair so he could keep his back toward the wall. This allowed him to keep his eyes on the other diners. As the waitress approached to ask for the man's order, Art took advantage of the stranger's momentary distraction to get a better look at him.
"So how's that pie anyway?" the mayor asked.
Art lifted his hand and waggled it, saying, "Not as good as Mary's, but then that's a pretty high standard to try to live up to. It was a sad day for Samuel when Mary decided she couldn't keep up with two babies and pie orders, too."
"Tell me about it," the mayor said. "The missus used to send me over at least once a week to get an entire pie from Samuel. She never even cared what flavor, as long as Mary had been the one to make it."
Art finished off his last bite and drained his coffee cup before saying, "Thank you for the pie, Mayor, and for the invite. Looking forward to some good food and parlor games, too. I've always enjoyed charades."
"Sure thing, Art," the older man replied.
****
Art took the long way back to the sheriff's office and stopped by his house. He made sure the other documents he had, including his letters from Detective Wilcox, were locked up in his floor safe. He then opened the letter he'd collected earlier in the day and read it.
S.P.,
I have reason to believe W indeed blackmailing someone and that whatever he was using is now in M's possession. A junior detective was getting close to the heart of it when he disappeared. No body found. Yet.
Can you check further into the issue of possession? And find out what M knows about recent gubernatorial campaign.
Much obliged,
D.W.
Art read the letter through three times before putting it back into its envelope and placing it in the floor safe with everything else.
On his way back to the sheriff's office, he stopped to see Mr. Clement about sending a telegraph. When Art ambled in, the other man lifted his eyes from a book he was reading. "I wondered if I'd see you today, Sheriff. Same as usual?"
Shaking his head, Art said, "Different message. I need it to say the following: 'Letter arrived. Will inquire. Danger present.'"
"That's mighty long for a telegram, if you don't mind my saying."
"Send it as-is. And I don't need to tell you how important this is."
"Will do," Mr. Clement said with a nod. Then he looked at Art, hesitant inquiry in his eyes. "Say, Sheriff, are you ever going to tell me what this is about?"
Art tipped his hat back on his head, gave a loose smile and said, "One of these days here, Mr. Clement, this will all be a thing of the past. When the week comes that I'm not sending a telegram, you come find me. I should be able to explain it all then."
"Mark my words, Sheriff, I'll be doing exactly that."
Art stepped back out onto the boardwalk and maintained his relaxed gait as he meandered toward his destination. He tipped his hat to each lady he passed and offered a "Howdy, ma'am," and "Nice day we're havin'," every now and then, drawing the words out long and slow as though he had not a care in the world.
****
As evening approached, Art made his way over to the Smith house. His knock was answered by Mrs. Smith. "Come in, Sheriff, come in." Her voice was congenial, but her eyes showed concern and understanding as she took his coat and hung it upon the coatrack. "The others have already arrived. Please feel free to join them in the sitting room."
Art walked through the house to the sitting room and stepped across the threshold to find the mayor, Minnie, as well as Samuel, Sarah and their little one. Nodding to the men, he said, "Mayor, Samuel." Then, turning his attention to the women, he said, "Good evening, Sarah, Minnie." Ruffling Ethan's hair as he passed the tot, he said, "Hello there, young sir," before taking a seat.
Standing, the mayor said, "Now that you're here, Art, I wanted to speak with you in private about something. Can you join me in my study?"
Having hardly even had a chance to sit down, Art stood and followed the mayor back out of the room. They reached his study, and the mayor closed the door behind him. Voice quiet, he said, "The man has been following me most of the day, leaving the house and the women unwatched as far as I can tell. What have you learned?"
Shaking his head, Art said, "I went through several wanted posters and found none to resemble him, but I still have quite a few to look at. I did get a letter from a contact in San Francisco, but I want to see the letters Minnie received and discuss them with her if possible."
Nodding toward his desk, Mayor Smith said, "The letters are in the top right drawer. I'll see that Minnie joins you," and then exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.
****
"Minnie," the mayor said once he re-entered the sitting room, "I think your mother needs your help with something."
Heart racing, she said, "Please excuse me for a moment," to their guests and then stepped out into the hall. Her father had told her earlier that, when he gave her the cue, she was to adjourn to his study to speak with Art. She didn't understand the need for all the subterfuge, but she knew her father had her best interests at heart. He also probably didn't want to worry her mother or bother the Livingstons with her problems.
