Cheyenne's Lady, page 33
Maria knew that was one of the many reasons men took the law into their own hands. But she clung to the hope that a man like Luke’s father could prove his son’s innocence. Still, she wouldn’t leave anything to chance. She began to catalogue all the measures that had come to her in the long, lonely hours since Luke’s departure.
“Sean, I want you to take me into town. I want to telegraph my uncles. They might know of lawyers, too. And that man Luke worked for sometimes, the Wells Fargo man? My Tío Juan seemed to be impressed with him. Would he help? Could we telegraph him?’’
“Mr. Hume? He’s a California sheriff more inclined to putter in his rose garden than to venture out in the wilderness.” Sean considered the prospect. “He’s pretty smart. There might be someone he could send. He seemed to like Luke. Let me fetch the carriage and we’ll give it a try.”
Sean was back within half an hour with the Walkers’ high-wheeled buggy. The canvas lid blocked some of the chill winter wind, and the fur blankets and warming bricks Letitia had piled in kept their feet from freezing. Maria would have preferred a horse, but even she had to admit she was in no shape to ride.
While Sean went to see the sheriff, Maria entered the telegraph office in the stagecoach station to compose her wires. It took all her strength to keep her hands from shaking as she scribbled the words to her uncles. She had to convince them that Luke was innocent and that this wasn’t just payment for past sins.
The telegrams weren’t easy to write, but she completed the task without crying and watched in awe as the young boy tapped them out over the wires. Somewhere, in faraway places she might never see, strangers were hearing her private words and writing them down. She didn’t care what they thought of her impassioned pleas if only they passed them on to the recipients intact. It seemed difficult to believe such messages would arrive in St. Louis and California simultaneously, but the boy at the telegraph machine assured her they would.
With that task completed, she returned to the street to search for Sean. She needed to beg another favor of him, a large one this time.
The man strolling toward her seemed familiar, but Maria could remember no one who walked with such a noticeable limp or carried a Malacca walking stick. The gold watch chain over his burgundy brocade vest spoke of wealth usually not known on these plains, and she turned toward the sheriff’s office before the sound of her name stopped her.
“Mrs. Walker, this is a pleasure!”
The man limped forward until she could see his face. She still had difficulty recognizing him. One side of his face seemed permanently twisted downward, and he no longer wore the full, gray beard that had hidden his weak chin. His eyes had a hard, faraway look to them, and Maria moved nervously backward a step or two as he approached.
Dallas! She didn’t know how she pulled that name from her memory. The husky, healthy rancher bent on cheating small ranchers bore little resemblance to this hollow-cheeked, twisted wreckage. Guilt struck her with a terrible pang. Had they done this to him? Sean had said he fell ill after the fire. Was this the result?
Trying to remain calm, Maria greeted him. “Mr. Dallas, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
A sly gleam swept over her awkward shape. “When I could not find you at your ranch, I met a gentleman who told me where your husband lived. A most considerate gentleman, Señor Vasquero, but he is not too fond of your husband.”
Maria’s breath froze. If Luke’s enemies had banded together, they could exert powerful sources and wealth, but surely they could do nothing here, out of their territory. She wanted to run and hide, but Luke wouldn’t do that. He would stay and find out more. So would she.
“Luke tends to support the little people, Mr. Dallas. Señor Vasquero prefers to step on them. There are differences of opinion between them.”
Dallas smiled, though the frozen downturn of his lips gave it an evil twist. “That’s a pity, Mrs. Walker. It is not sensible for one man to stand alone against the power of many. I choose to believe you are innocent of his actions, but your husband must pay the price of his beliefs. My suggestion is that you return and beg forgiveness from Señor Vasquero. I will be glad to accompany you; my revenge should be satisfied shortly.”
That sounded more like a threat than an offer, and Maria curled her fingers into fists. Seeing Sean stepping from the general store, she reacted swiftly. This evil man would not be satisfied in seeking revenge just against Luke if he could have Sean, too.
“Then I will know whom to call on should anything happen to my husband, Mr. Dallas. I am not as fast with a gun as Luke, but I’m just as accurate. Good day.” Maria whirled about and strode in the opposite direction of Sean, hoping he would recognize his enemy and duck into a doorway while Dallas glared after her.
Sean caught up with Maria down a narrow alley leading to the livery stable. She sighed in relief realizing he’d understood her message.
“Thank goodness! I was afraid Dallas would see you. He’s met the Vasqueros, Sean.” She frowned with worry. “He’s talking about revenge and Luke and telling me to go back to Manuel. It sounds like he’s not waiting around very long. I’m frightened, Sean. I don’t think he’s going to let Luke wait for a trial.”
“OK, we’re getting you back to the ranch. I don’t think you ought to be alone with that spalpeen around. I’ll take you back to Letitia and Sara. Then Matthew and I and a few others will go after Luke. If there’s going to be trouble, it will be between here and Stockton.”
Maria ached to go with him, but logic told her that was impossible. They would have to ride like the devil to catch up with the sheriff and Luke, and she would only hold them back. She had hoped to ask Sean to take her to Stockton, but now it seemed she would have to do it on her own. She nodded acceptance, and not knowing any better, Sean assumed she agreed.
The women at the Walker ranch enfolded her into the warmth of their protection. Pedro had remained there through the day, but he demanded that Sean take him to find his Uncle Luke. Maria carried him away from the men, and even Caroline offered to help entertain the little boy.
After the first few weeks Caroline had taken her unwanted pregnancy with aplomb. She played the part of expectant mother with verve once she realized it meant everyone in the household would cater to her every whim. Putting up with Pedro showed some maternal instinct.
Once Pedro was occupied, Maria paced the floor as the men rounded up horses and sent word to neighboring ranches for assistance. Joshua had insisted on riding out with them, and that cut the one thread of hope she had been harboring. Now she would have to find someone else who would take her after them—or do it alone.
Letitia ordered her to take a seat and drink some soup, but Maria couldn’t sit long enough to finish the cup. The child within her kicked restlessly, sensing her disquiet, and the impossibility of the task she had set dismayed her. Luke had ordered her to look after their child and she had every intention of doing so, but in the same town with Luke, not a hundred miles away.
Maria waited as Luke’s father and brother said their farewells. Sean bowed before the room full of women, but his glance slid to Sara’s tear-streaked face.
The horses galloped out a few minutes later, and then silence fell.
Letitia put an arm around Maria, offering solace even while she sought it for herself. The silence stretched until Maria couldn’t bear it any longer. She had been helpless when her father died. She had not even been there with Pieta when she was killed. She could not let them take Luke from her without doing something to prevent it.
As the other women began speaking of fixing supper, Maria steeled herself and approached Letitia with what she hoped was confidence. “I want to go back to our house. Is there anyone who can take me?”
Luke’s mother looked surprised. “If you need something, we can send someone back to fetch it. Maybe we should bring Rosa and Mrs. Donleavy back here. With the men gone, it might be better if we all stayed together.”
“I would appreciate it if you could take them in. They can look after Pedro so he won’t be as much of a nuisance, but I cannot stay. I simply cannot.” Maria pleaded for understanding.
“I don’t understand.” Letitia looked genuinely puzzled. “Is it Caroline? Surely you know she won’t bother you while you’re under our roof. I understand your animosity, but—”
Maria shook her head, tilting her chin stubbornly. “No. Your hospitality is welcome, but I cannot stay here while Luke is in trouble. If someone will take me back to the house, I can hitch up the buckboard and go after them. I am accustomed to looking after myself. If it weren’t for the babe, I would ride, but I can manage the wagon just fine.”
Letitia opened her mouth to protest, closed it at Maria’s stubborn expression, and gaped in horror as her daughter came to stand beside them.
“I want to go, too, Mama. Anything could happen out there. And Luke will need our support. We can’t let him suffer alone. I’ll see that Maria takes care of herself. We can take the buggy. It will be warmer and easier on Maria.”
“You are both mad!” Letitia exclaimed, but not in a tone of horror. She appeared to be thinking swiftly, her soft, plump hands kneading her apron. “Maria, you cannot travel like that. Look at what happened last time.”
“That was not the travel. I feel fine. I will feel better when I can see that Luke is all right. I will make life here miserable for everybody by staying. I must go.”
“If there’s trouble along the road . . .” Letitia’s thoughts traveled on without words.
“There won’t be,” Sara replied decisively. “Sean and Matt and Dad will stop that. We just need to get to Stockton while Maria can still travel. Luke will need her there.”
That was what needed to be said. They could not combat Indians or outlaws or any of the terrors of the trail, but they could be there when Luke walked in front of that courtroom. To think beyond that to the verdict didn’t bear considering.
And so it was decided. Instead of going alone, Maria traveled in the company of Sara and Letitia and half a dozen of the ranch hands Joshua had left behind to protect them. For the season, the weather was relatively mild, and the threat of a snow or ice storm was next to nil.
Caroline stayed behind with Pedro and the servants, much to everyone’s relief. Maria didn’t complain of her discomfort, even as the buggy bumped along the washboard roads, but Caroline had not stopped complaining since her pregnancy began.
Guides rode ahead, securing resting places in stagecoach stations or isolated farmhouses along the way. Maria was grateful not to have to face a night under the stars in this condition. To find a comfortable sleeping position in bed was difficult enough, and without Luke beside her she slept little. During the day the effort of staying cheerful kept her mind occupied, but at night all the horrible outcomes haunted her.
Maria counted her rosary and prayed. Each passing day made her more certain that Manuel and Dallas had joined together not only to seek revenge on Luke, but to gain access to the ranch. Manuel must know by now that the land was in Luke’s name and that Luke would never sell it to him. That meant the railroad would not go through the valley and all the land the Vasqueros had purchased would be as worthless as everyone had thought.
Luke stood between the Vasqueros and riches or bankruptcy.
Her fears were confirmed when they met Joshua and Matthew returning, accompanied by one of the guides. They stared in disbelief at the train of wagons and buggy.
“Lettie, what in hell is the meaning of this?” Joshua roared. “My God, woman, I thought you had more sense!”
“Or that I was too old?” Letitia inquired. “I’m not ready for the rocking chair yet, Josh, and if I hadn’t come along, these two girls were determined to go anyway. We can’t leave Luke alone at a time like this. Have you seen him? Is he well?”
Joshua cleared his throat and prepared his words carefully. “Two days out they were attacked by bandits. The sheriff got himself and Luke holed up behind some rocks. The bounty hunter turned on them and the sheriff killed the b—” he cut off the word and found another—“the coward. That’s when we rode in. The outlaws scattered before we could catch them. We got them to Stockton all right after that.”
Maria cried out in dismay and relief, letting Letitia wrap her in her arms while she shook in terror at knowing one of her fears had come to pass.
Josh’s gaze fell on the wagon with his daughter in it. “You planning on taking up residence somewhere?”
“We’re prepared to stay as long as necessary. Maria won’t be able to travel back and forth, and the weather may worsen,” Sarah explained.
Joshua raised his eyebrows as he surveyed the women and their bodyguards. “Well, I’m sure I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of that judge and jury when it comes time for Luke to stand trial,” he drawled. “Sean will be glad to see you. He and that fancy city lawyer I hired don’t see eye to eye, so he’s putting up pretty much on his own. Both them boys will be proud to see you.” His gaze returned to Maria. “You feeling all right?”
“Much better, thank you, sir. Will they let me see Luke?” she asked anxiously.
“Reckon so, but you gotta figure Luke’ll be a mite riled to see you.”
Maria straightened. “It won’t be the first time.”
After a quick conference, Joshua decided to ride with the women, leaving his son to return to the ranch and Caroline. Matthew took a couple of the cowboys from the ranch back with him. The trip from this point would be short and safe.
They rode into Stockton on the first of December, and Maria held her head high as she gazed at the wooden city that hid Luke within its confines. Fortunately, his decent, law-abiding family couldn’t read her mind as Maria cynically contemplated burning down the hastily erected cow town if it meant saving Luke.
The town had better hope they had an honest judge.
Chapter 9
The jail was little more than a tinder box with a few iron bars for looks. Unlike many of its kind, it connected to the back of the sheriff’s office and thus shared some of the warmth of the potbelly stove.
Never having familiarized herself with the interior of a jail, Maria did not appreciate the comfort. It took all her strength to hide her horror as she and Joshua were shown to Luke’s cell.
He sprawled on a narrow cot, one hand propped behind his head while he stared at the tin roof. At the sound of the door opening, he turned his unshaven face without expectation.
It took a full minute before he registered that his father had returned with Maria. Only when she whimpered did he rise and grasp the bars separating them.
Maria caressed the hair from Luke’s forehead, proving his reality. At the burning look of love and anguish in his eyes, she gazed helplessly at the man she desperately needed to hold. Joshua coughed and discreetly removed himself from the room.
When the sheriff ordered her away a few minutes later, Maria stalked out with fire in her eyes. “That room is positively icy, Sheriff. Luke will have pneumonia before he ever comes to trial. You will have to leave that connecting door open so more of the heat goes back there or install another stove. I’ll be back with some additional blankets and decent linen. Who is in charge of his meals?’’
The sheriff squirmed beneath her tirade, assuring her with as much bluster as he could that the prisoner would receive the best possible care.
“I certainly hope so, sir. It would not merely be unfortunate if an innocent man died in your care, but it would leave his unborn child without a father and a provider. My uncles have some very influential friends, and I think the town would find itself sued for the worth of every resident in it should such a travesty of justice occur. I merely state that as a friendly reminder, Sheriff. Sometimes one tends to forget that a prisoner could conceivably be innocent.”
With that amazing speech Maria swept out, leaving the sheriff and her father-in-law to stare after her. Joshua shrugged his bulky shoulders. “Better get used to it. His mother and sister are here, too.”
The sheriff sighed and settled his pudgy body into the chair. “I reckon I will. There are a few ladies in town up in arms, too. Never wanted to arrest the lad in the first place, but there are bigger men than me involved.”
The circuit judge wasn’t expected for months or longer, depending on the weather. The lawyer the Walkers hired from Abilene acquired additional assistance when a second lawyer arrived from Santa Fe and a third rode in a week later from St. Louis, compliments of Maria’s uncles.
Sean and Joshua settled on the man from Santa Fe. While the men drew up lists, and strangers came and went from the office the lawyers had established in a back room of the hotel, Maria spent as much time as she could with Luke.
His jail cell began to take on the ambiance of home as she and his mother brought in clean bedding and linens, his shaving gear and mirror, books, and even his guitar. This latter he took with gratitude as Maria presented it and their gazes met with understanding. Here was a communication they could use even when they were not together. Luke smiled and kissed her cheek before the sheriff ordered her out.
That night the empty streets filled with the haunting melody of a Spanish guitar, and Maria slept more soundly than she had in weeks.
The arrival of James B. Hume, the Wells Fargo detective, caught everyone by surprise. Stepping off the stage one cold morning, he located the sheriff without assistance and announced himself without ceremony. The sheriff gazed up at the imposing six-foot-two gentleman removing his gloves and bowler, and wondered who the hell he was, although he could easily guess who he wanted to see.
Luke leapt to his feet in welcome as the gentleman entered. Even with the door open the back room remained cold, and Luke had taken to wearing his sheepskin coat for warmth during the day. His gloves interfered with his guitar playing, so the hand he offered was bare as the stranger took it.
