Caught in the Middle, page 1
part #1 of Sheriff's Daughters Series
Caught in the Middle
The Sheriff’s Daughters
Karen Sommers
Copyright © 2018 by Karen Sommers
All rights reserved.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Also by Karen Sommers
Prologue
Linda
1871
She was pulled once again from Sarah, who inevitably cried. The train had reached another stop and it was time to be examined again, lined up on a platform the way you’d line up cattle at auction. It was the most irritating, shaming part of the trip. Sarah needed her, and she hated being pulled like that. Linda stamped her foot, a useless gesture of childish frustration and anger, but she knew better than to say anything. She stomped to her place in a line that got a little shorter each time the train stopped. She had no intention of standing nicely, though. Arms crossed, she waited for the judgment; the inevitable excruciating examination ending in a decision that would determine her future for the rest of her life.
Excruciating. She liked that word. She’d read it in one of those dime novels someone had left behind on the train.
To her surprise, Sarah was also taken, shoved into place in line next to Mags, a girl with more freckles showing than skin. That didn’t bode well. Sarah was only five, and at least two of her fingers were in her mouth at all times. She was a thin child, sickly and weak. Linda had been living on half rations since the train left, trying to feed Sarah, who took the extra food as a right.
Amanda arrived, shoved next to her on the other side of her from Sarah. In a way, Linda was surprised they’d found her. Amanda liked being in with the boys. It was a terrible breach of rules and could get her into all kinds of trouble, but she had too much boy in her spirit. She’d spent most of the ride in spitting contests off the caboose or challenging the others to a haphazard game of marbles that usually ended with most of them rolling under the seats and getting lost anyway.
Linda reached over, grabbed Sarah’s thin arm and pulled her close to her side. Mags gave her a dirty look. Linda wanted to explain that protecting Sarah had nothing to do with anything Mags had or hadn’t done. She just wanted the little one close, where she could protect her. Mags was seven and big for her age. She was just fine on her own.
People were watching them. They always did. They would take in Sarah’s pallor, the look of hunger etched in her eyes and the ribs that protruded no matter how much she ate and figure she’d be dead in a few months' time… maybe sooner. No one wanted a sickly girl. Linda tucked Sarah in closer, willing them to see the potential rather than the problems. To see both of them as one person if possible. Sarah needed her as much as…well as much as a five-year-old needed a mommy. And Linda was it.
But already attention was waning on her side of the platform. A farm woman was exclaiming over Mags, not seeming to mind the freckles that others had, in favor of the looks of a girl sturdy enough to handle farm chores. The rest? They were after what they were always after. It was the bigger boys, the strong ones they wanted. The ones that could hold a plow, wield a shovel. The ones that would earn their keep and more besides.
But girls were in less demand. They could only cook and clean and tend other children, but none of that increased the harvest or spurred the livestock to breed. Girls were a financial burden. Little thin girls were a bad investment.
But then so too were girls like Amanda. Girls with scraped knees and cuts on their arms and hair wild from roughhousing. It wasn’t natural, she heard more than one woman murmur to another with a somber shake of the head. This had been repeatedly reinforced on the trip, the matron’s constant lamentation that had ended with Amanda’s ears boxed more than once, and a switching at the last station. They’d been told this was the end of the line and Amanda needed to shape up. They all did. Matron wasn’t taking back any children, she’d muttered darkly. This was their last chance.
Somehow the idea of Amanda being “better off learning how to knit than hit” had seemed ridiculous at the time. Now, as Linda watched the townspeople lose interest and move off in other directions, she felt fear in the pit of her stomach. They were the last three girls on the platform. What if no one took them?
A very fat man with a beard that bristled and looked like it had been neither washed nor combed stood behind the people who had come to gawk at them. Linda couldn’t stand to look at him, the feeling he had was evil, it seethed through his pores and soiled the very ground he stood on.
The crowd tsked and shook their heads at the deplorable state of the children, murmuring the same words they had in Kansas, Missouri and Illinois. “Terrible how thin and dirty, someone should do something,” before they went off to look at the boys. Anyone that made it this far wasn’t going to be the pick of the litter and Linda never felt so much like a stray kitten as she did when the train made these stops.
A boy she didn’t know was suddenly shoved from the line of children and made to stand between a stern-looking man and his angry wife. “Adopted” was the word they used, but Linda already knew that getting “adopted” wasn’t the right word. Adopted meant that you became someone’s child, that they were your father and mother. Mostly what these people wanted was someone to do the work.
The older girls had told her this before they’d disappeared at the first stops, happy enough to be going into service, as it would give them a place to live and food in their bellies. What difference did it make if you were cook and housekeeper and baby tender when those things were dealt with? Linda had told herself she would be fine with that, but sometimes…sometimes she looked at the people taking home one of the children and thought that maybe there were places out there that were something more… A home.
I hate it. I hate this stupid old orphan train.
But she didn’t. Living on the streets of New York had been worse. Never enough to eat, too cold in winter. Too many kicks and knocks to the head. She’d been a newcomer to the foundling hospital that sponsored this train, gone along with the rest when several kids on the street were rounded up and told they could have families if they would only cooperate. What taking this train truly meant was you were no longer the problem of New York City. You’d become someone else’s problem. So far, the change of address hadn’t made much of a difference.
Amanda made a little choking sound as the boy was taken off to a wagon parked not far away. Linda didn’t know the boy, but he was obviously one of the girl’s friends. The crowd, such as it was, moved on, leaving them standing alone, three girls, facing the man with the filthy beard and the air of something nasty clinging to his clothes.
“What’s wrong with her?” He spoke to the matron but was pointing at Linda.
“Nothing,” she assured him, “nothing wrong with the child at all, she’s quite the little mother, very protective, very nurturing, she’d be a good one to have to care for the sick or elderly.”
He looked at Linda more closely. “Has she bled yet?”
The matron held a splayed hand over her chest and tried her best to look horrified. “Please, Sir, keep a civil…”
“You had your first blood yet, girl?” He leaned over Linda. His breath smelled like old man Jenkens, the orphanage custodian. Linda became morbidly fascinated by a yellow glob that clung to the man’s beard.
The matron continued to look shocked as he waited for her to answer. Linda pulled Sarah closer and shook her head mutely.
“Bah…” He snorted. “I’ll take her anyway,” he said to the matron, “She can cook and clean ‘til she’s old enough to work.” Beside her, Amanda gasped and held tightly to Linda’s arm. Linda wasn’t sure what was so bad about working, that was something she’d done her whole life, and wasn’t that what they were expected to do?
Linda’s worry was for Sarah. The little girl squealed when her grip got too tight. “No!” she said, chin coming up defiant like it had at every one of the other stops when someone had expressed an interest. “Not without Sarah. Sarah needs me!”
But it was Amanda’s grip that surprised her. As though Amanda was trying to keep her from being dragged away.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too disgusting, even for you, Colton?” someone said. A large man stepped out of the shadows of the station. He was a giant, much bigger than the fat one. He wore a dusty suit. Though it had seen better days, it was still in good repair and mostly clean. He wore a huge brown duster, split up the back and his hat was the color of ivory.
“This don’t concern you, Addams” the fat man wheezed, stepping forward to take Linda’s arm, wresting her away from the others.
The newcomer turned to the matron. “You have any papers on these kids?” he asked her. The matron’s eyes boggled.
“Papers? What possible use could they have for papers? These are orphans, poor street urchins in need of good homes!”
“Or they could be kidnapped children of wealthy parents, hidden out here in the west and you might very well be a part of one of the worst child slavery rings I have ever seen!”
Linda’s eyes widened. Never had she heard such a whopper in her life.
“Well!” The matron shot Amanda a dirty look.
“Now, it might be as you say, but I swear, if you give one child to that man,” he pointed at the red-faced fat man, “I will have you and your little circus slave-show under investigation, and that means none of you lot leaves until I am satisfied that what you’re saying is true.” He smiled. Linda decided she rather liked his smile. “And that could take a Very. Looooong. Time.”
The fat man said a word that Linda hadn’t heard before, released her with a shove and stomped off.
“These children have nowhere to go,” the matron hissed through a tight jaw.
The new man knelt in front of them. He looked at Linda. “You can’t leave her?” Linda shook her head hard from side to side. “Why not?”
“She needs me,” Linda managed to say and bit her lip, knowing that even opening her mouth on the platform was a beating offense. Matron wasn’t stingy about the back end of her hairbrush.
“And what about her?” He pointed to Amanda.
Linda thought for a moment. She didn’t really know Amanda, just in passing, but she knew the girl was always getting into trouble, playing and roughhousing with the boys. Still, she was worried for her when the fat man talked about working, and Amanda’s friend was stuck here, so….
“She needs me too,” Linda said stubbornly. The matron tried to hush the girl, but the man waved her off. He looked at Linda very closely. “You like taking care of people, don’t you?”
Linda thought if she said yes, that she would be allowed to care for Sarah, so she nodded enthusiastically.
“So, who takes care of you?” he asked.
“I do.” Amanda jumped in, taking Linda’s hand again. “Don’t I?”
“You?” He smiled and looked at Amanda. “Is that shiner you got from protecting her?”
Linda turned, surprised to note that Amanda did have the slight coloring of a healing black eye.
“No,” Linda said even when Amanda started to nod. “She got that in a fight.”
Amanda scowled. Maybe it hadn’t been right to betray her, but Linda’s conscience was smiting her sorely. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be fair for Amanda to be the only one going back to New York City. “There were some boys picking on Sarah,” Linda added, uncomfortable with the way the words felt in her mouth. Lying didn’t feel right, especially not to someone that had just helped you. But then, neither did leaving Amanda behind.
“Well, girls, I could use some help. How about this.” The man paused, sweeping his hat off his head and scratching at the top of his scalp as though thinking deeply about something. “I’ll take care of all of you, but you need to help me take care of someone too. Are you willing?”
“Excuse me!” The matron huffed indignantly. “As if, asking a child if she will or she won’t. The idea!”
“Come on then.” He said, and just like that ignored Matron like she wasn’t there at all. He held an arm out, indicating for the girls to follow him. Amanda ran after him first, craning her neck to see where the boy that had been chosen before was going. Linda followed cautiously, a little uncertainly, with Sarah in tow.
“See here!” The matron cried, “It’s not so simple as all that! There are papers that must be signed! There are regulations and procedures! I shall summon the constabulary!”
The man stopped and turned around, flipping up his lapel. Something shined brightly at the matron who spluttered and coughed.
“You can find me at the Sheriff’s office. I expect anyone here can tell you the way. Come on, girls,” he said and led them off the platform.
Chapter 1
Huntington, CO
1884
It was the warmth of spring that determined the emptiness of the room. The warmer the days became, the more likely it was for the boys to stay home from school and help sow and plow and work the ground to get it ready for that summer’s growth.
The stock was sent off into pasture, and the children who had been sent to school all through the long, cold winter were now breaking the soil. Those who still came to classes dreamed of being out in the sunshine or running through the tall grass. Not that they’d get much time for play. Even those from the town proper would have work to do in their own kitchen gardens, and in helping at home.
Rachel Lee Calvert, on the other hand, still attended the school faithfully, despite the fact that she was a ranch child from out past Wilson Creek. In body alone. Her mind wasn’t off in the green fields, it was somewhere harder for others to find. As far as body, she was a very large child, the subject of general harassment and teasing. All through the winter, Linda Addams had kept an eye on her. She had a chubby face, and under all the layers of coat and shirts and skirts and mittens, it was hard to determine how much was girl and how much was insulation.
With the chill of the thin Colorado air turning warm, when the heat of the sun baked the little schoolhouse, Rachel removed several layers but lost none of the impressive girth. Linda wasn’t the only one to notice, and the girl quickly became the butt of such cruelty that Linda had more than once had to stop the lessons, even sending one of the students home in disgrace.
It was this sort of treatment that prevented the girl from ever actually being there or engaging in the discussions or memorizations. She merely sat and stared at a small spot on her desk, an etching where some previous student had carved into the soft wood.
Now, here it was the last day of school, and while the other children had left early, all but running through the fields and the little streets of the town, shrieking and making plans for the hot summer, Linda found herself closing up the little school around the last lingering child.
“Aren’t you anxious to head off, Rachel?” she asked, as she stacked books to place on the long low shelves under the window. “It’s the last day of school for a couple of months. I’d think you’d be eager to get home.”
The girl shrugged and smiled. Linda noted what a charming, sweet smile she had. It didn’t come out often enough, but the children who should have been her peers didn’t allow for much smiling. “I like it,” she pronounced solemnly, “school, I mean.”
“You do?” Linda couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “You don’t show it.”
The girl’s face fell, the sadness in her eyes seemed to take over her entire expression.
“I’m sorry… I…”
When the girl would have bolted, Linda’s quick hand caught her. “Rachel, you’re a good student and bright girl, but you don’t participate at all. even when I call on you for things you know, you remain silent.”
“It’s hard to…” the girl’s whisper was barely audible. “I try, but it’s…”
The door opened, and Rachel jumped. “Hello, father.” She stumbled to her feet, collecting her slate and pencil and losing the latter in her hurry.
“Rachel? I didn’t see you walking home and thought I’d stop by to see if you wanted a ride.” Thomas Lee Calvert stood in the doorway of the school.
He was a gorgeous man, with a slender waist, and broad shoulders that barely cleared the jamb. His smile was a trifle sad, as were his eyes. Linda wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him without that kind of dejected expression on his face. He clutched his hat in his hand, a shock of light brown hair sticking in all directions, freed from its confines. His thick arms could only be the result of many years of hard, physical labor and Linda caught her breath as she took his hand, noting the strength in his grip.
“Mr.… Calvert.” Linda said, hiding the gasp that she couldn’t quite suppress as she drew back, unsure why she suddenly found it hard to speak when he was standing so close. But when had she ever stood so close to him? He kept to himself at church, he and his daughter coming and going quickly, not staying to socialize after the service. He’d shown up at the school’s Christmas pageant, but in the crush of parents, she couldn’t remember ever having talked to him.
