By the time she finished, Margaret had left the room, and was soon back with a saddlebag stuffed with all manner of food. “This belonged to my son, Jason. There’s a canteen of water too.” She hugged Wilda. “Oh, child, I wish you wouldn’t do this, but I understand about love, I really do. What I don’t understand is how that nice young man could run off and leave such a beautiful girl as yourself.” She patted Wilda’s cheek. “Now you’ll be careful, and let us know where you land, will you?”
“Yes, I surely will. Thank you so much. Both of you. I love you.” Realizing she’d probably never see either of them again, she teared up and gave them each a hug.
“Go with God,” Rachel whispered in her ear.
“Kiss the children for me, and be happy,” she told her. “I have to go now.”
Outside, she fastened the bag behind the saddle, mounted from the boardwalk and rode off. A backward glance revealed a backlit Rachel and Margaret, standing in the door waving.
The mare’s dainty hooves splatted and sucked at the muddy street as she rode west into a rain-washed wind. She had no idea if she would ever catch up to Calder or Smith. No telling where they were headed, but when she did catch them, she was going to give Calder a serious talking to. How dare he go off and leave her when they loved each other so much?
****
Calder had no idea which direction the sheriff had gone with his posse, so it was best he just go back into the cell at the jail and wait for their return. He dare not spare a glance for Margaret’s house, nestled among the cluster of soddies and clapboard dwellings along the streets of Hays City. One look and he’d have to go back in there, grab Wilda and off they’d ride. Together. Forever.
His throat ached with sorrow, near bad as he’d felt after the death of his family during the war. Wilda should be a part of his family, of him. Instead, he would be hung and her sent back to Fairhaven. But that was better than being arrested for helping him escape and hung alongside him. That he could not face. Not ever. He would die a hundred times before he’d let that happen to her.
So, he tied Gabe out back, gave him some hay kept stacked in a small shed behind the jail, and spent a moment rubbing the velvety nose against his cheek. “You be good, ole boy. I’m gonna miss you.”
Sighing, he went inside. The cell was locked, but the key hung by the door. He let himself in, shut and re-locked the door and sat down on the stinking dirty cot to await the return of Sheriff Calumet and the posse. By morning, he’d be swinging by his neck, and his death would be the end of the Raines family.
Chapter Twenty-One
Against a silver dawn, the town of Ellis appeared like a scattering of boxes on the flat plains. The dapple mare slowed obediently with a mere touch. Wilda stretched tall in the stirrups, rubbed her back and groaned. This riding took some getting accustomed to. While Smith and Calder probably traveled the miles at a trot, she couldn’t manage that. Riding full tilt could have proven disastrous considering how clumsy she was on horseback.
She nudged the mare forward, the muffled hoofbeats the only sound along the deserted street. Night fires had been allowed to burn down and tendrils of smoke filled the air with a woodsy fragrance. No sign of Calder and Smith. Maybe they weren’t even going to Ellis and had turned off. Or they were so far ahead of her she’d missed them. There’d been no clear trails on which they could’ve turned off.
Disappointment added to her weariness.
A large red horse stood tied to a post, hipshot and sleeping. Jeb snorted and tossed her head. The horse pricked his ears and whinnied, the two of them creating quite a song of greeting in the sleepy town. Stiff from the unaccustomed riding, she slid to the ground with a loud groan and tied Jeb to a post. She sat on the edge of the raised wooden boardwalk near the mare and swung her legs, not sure what to do. Next thing she knew, she was startled awake from a curled position on the hard boards. Sunrise, and the town awakened around her. Shopkeepers approached their businesses, threw open doors. Some swept the boardwalk and placed displays of produce, clothing and leather wares outside.
If two men had come through here in the night, none of these people would know of it. Passers in the night would’ve been simply quiet shadows moving in silence along the street and off into the darkness.
A barrel of a man approached and stopped at the door of the mercantile behind her. He unlocked it, then spoke. “You waiting for me to open?”
“Not really. I was just so sore from riding so long, I thought I’d take a rest.”
“Aye. You’d be from Victoria City, I’d wager,” he said with a chuckle.
“How did you know?”
His chuckle turned to a laugh. “Couldn’t miss that accent, now could I? You ride all that way alone in the night, Lass?”
“Ah, no, I came from Hays City. I’m looking for some friends. Two men who would’ve ridden through here last night. A big, bald fellow by the name of Smith. He’s a blacksmith, and….” Perhaps it’d be better not to describe Calder. He might be known in these parts as a member of the gang who had robbed the bank in Hays City.
He obviously saw the humor in that. “Smith, the blacksmith,” he said in the brogue that was so obviously Irish. “Well, can’t say as I saw him or his friend. Was snuggled deep in bed with the Missus through the night.” His laughter rang out.
“Entertaining the ladies again, Magruder?” a lanky man said, and stopped to join the conversation, introducing himself as Jonah Larkin.
“Who else would I be entertaining, Jonah?” Magruder asked.
“You’re Irish,” Wilda said.
“And how in the world did you keen that?” Magruder said. It seemed he never spoke but what he followed the words with merriment and laughter.
“Could it be the accent?” she responded.
All three chortled as if they’d been old friends for a long while. A few others joined the group and began to visit amongst themselves.
After a while Magruder silenced them. “This lass is searching for a couple of friends who might’ve ridden through in the night. Any of you up and about, might’ve seen them?”
They all shook their heads, and he addressed Wilda. “Sorry, Lass. Could I be asking you one question?”
She hesitated to say yes, for fear of what it might be, but Magruder didn’t wait for permission.
“Where have you been finding such fine trousers as those you’re a wearing? I’ve yearned for me a belt such as that.”
This brought hearty laughter from everyone. Even she couldn’t help but grin and pirouette once. To their delight she flipped the frayed ends of the rope holding up the borrowed britches. Some clapped as if she were on a stage at a bawdy house. These people were much different from those in Victoria City and Hays, where everyone seemed morose and unfriendly.
One by one the shopkeepers drifted off to get to work, each waving farewell to her and wishing her well in her search. Magruder dragged a table onto the boardwalk and set out some housewares, then stood brooms and shovels against the front of the building.
With a rumbling stomach, she opened the saddlebag and took out a biscuit, a slice of ham and the water canteen. Sitting back in her spot, she ate every bite. Magruder cast an occasional look as he went about his morning chores. When she finished and replaced the canteen, she untied Jeb, stepped onto the boardwalk and climbed into the saddle.
Magruder stuck his head out the door. “Good luck to ye, in finding your friends, Lass. It does seem a shame, men running away from such a lovely wee gal as you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Magruder.”
“Ay, Lass, and you be careful alone on the trail.”
And alone she was. All the way through town and on down the road, the mare’s hoofs setting a soothing rhythm. How far should she go before giving up? What had possessed Calder to abandon her? Didn’t he know she loved him? That love was more important than anything else in this world? That without it we could die? Maybe he didn’t care. And if he didn’t, should she?
“Oh, Jeb, I don’t know what to do but keep going.” She rubbed the mare’s neck and stared ahead at the flat plain, stretching out forever to the distant horizon. And nowhere did she see two men on horses. Where could they be? A hole of dread opened in her chest. What a huge place this America was. What if she was lost and never found her way? Never found the man she loved.
****
The arrival of Sheriff Calumet and his posse in the middle of the night awoke Calder from a restless sleep in his jail cell. Horses with heads hanging, men slumped in the saddle, rode past the open jailhouse door, which he’d failed to close when he self-arrested himself the evening before. Wouldn’t be long now before Calumet discovered his prisoner had returned on his own. Probably wouldn’t help him a lot, where his scheduled hanging was concerned.
No one came around for most of the morning and he was beginning to think no one would show up before he starved. He was thirsty, hungry, dirty, and about ready to change his mind about the whole matter when the young deputy called Jake came strolling in, toothpick hanging out of one corner of his mouth. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a prisoner in the cell.
“Whut the thunder you doin’ here?” He grinned, showing a set of dirty, buck teeth, then backed up to the door. As if all of a sudden he’d been struck, he took off down the street hollering.
It wasn’t long before he returned, chattering at none other than the sheriff himself, who looked a bit dumbfounded. Speechless fury soon followed. Calder didn’t much blame him. After all, the man had run a posse all over hell and creation chasing after two prisoners, only to return to find one of them securely locked up in a cell.
When he could speak and make sense, Calumet said, “I don’t know what sort of trick this is, but if you think I’m gonna honor that sumbitching governor’s amnesty just cause you come in on your own, you’re crazier than my mama’s pet coon.” Hands on hips, he eyed Calder, who stood, fingers gripping the bars of his cell. When he didn’t reply, Calumet said, “Well, say something.”
“I’m hungry and I’d appreciate some water.”
Calumet threw his hat on the floor, something he seemed to like to do. “I’ll get you some water. Stick your blamed head in it till you drown. You know your gang killed an innocent woman, a mother, in my town? I ought to shoot you right here and tell the governor you died in the holdup.”
“I’m sure sorry that happened. I wasn’t with them and I never allowed any killing when I was. You know that, Sheriff, sure as you know day’s light and night’s dark. They got away from me, things got out of hand. I’d do anything to bring that poor woman back. I haven’t ever killed anyone, nor even shot anyone, except in the war.”
For a long moment Calumet watched him in silence. “Well, you done now? Finished with your mewling?”
Calder sighed and sank back onto the stinking cot. Nothing he could say would make a difference. The sheriff kicked his hat a few times, then leaned down, picked it up and screwed it on. Grumbling under his breath, he left the young deputy in charge, and before long the noise of hammering and sawing filled the air. He peered through the window slot and saw several men constructing a gallows. While he watched, the train pulled in to the depot, and Rachel and her children boarded. Margaret stood for a while waving, then she sat down on a bench to watch until the train pulled out.
Well, at least she was safely on her way. Funny the sheriff hadn’t mentioned anything about the jailbreak. Probably didn’t want to admit to two men overpowering his deputy. Poor Jake would probably never admit to the chocolate affair with Rachel. As for Wilda, she was strangely absent. No telling what she was up to.
Across the way Margaret spoke to several people, then rose and with determination stomped across the tracks and toward the men who were building the gallows. He couldn’t hear what was said, but she huffed off like a wet hen. Her footsteps thudded past the jail and on down the boardwalk, finally fading from hearing.
“Could you bring me some water, please?” he hollered to the deputy.
“Ain’t got none,” the man yelled back.
About that time, the door slammed open so hard it hit the wall and bounced. In the doorway stood Margaret. “Where’s that no account sheriff?”
The deputy sputtered and looked around, as if expecting to see the man hiding in the corner of the room. “Well, ma’am, I don’t rightly know.”
“Well, when you do ‘rightly know’ you tell him that I’ve wired the governor and told him he’s planning to hang a man who is willing to sign for amnesty. And if that doesn’t stop the hanging, then this will.” She whipped from behind her back, a huge pistol with a long barrel. She grinned and looked into Calder’s cell. “Howdy there, young man. How you feeling this morning?”
“Uh, better, ma’am. Much better.”
“Well, I’d hope so, ’cause it’s gonna take some doing to catch up with that young gal who took off from here last night chasing after you and Mr. Smith.”
Calder leaped up and grabbed the bars. “What? Wilda? When? Which way did she go?”
“Toward Ellis, I believe.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Whoa down, young man. I did the best I could. Don’t you be fussing on the woman who just saved your ornery life. I give her food, water and some money. She was riding a little dapple mare and had on the most ugliest pair of britches I ever laid eyes on. What you’re doing in here after she got you out, I don’t know. But I’d suggest you ride out and go fetch her before she gets in trouble.”
The deputy took a step forward. “Now you wait just a minute, there. He ain’t going nowhere.”
“If I was you, young man, I’d take those keys still hanging out of that lock, turn them once and let him out. He’s been pardoned by none other than Governor Andrew Thomas Osborn.” She waved the pistol, then pointed it and pulled back the hammer.
“Now, don’t get excited, ma’am.” The deputy held up both hands.
“Get me out of here,” Calder yelled. “Just don’t shoot him or we’ll both be hanged.”
“Unlock his cell, and I’ll wait here to explain to that ugly sheriff just what happened and why. I’m sure he’ll understand. If he don’t, well, I’ve always enjoyed seeing him turn purple and throw his hat around.” She grinned.