Lawfully Matched, Justified, and Redeemed Page 3
Jesse wanted to argue. He wanted to tear out of the room, mount Molly, and go in search of the robbers himself, but as he looked at the other men in the room, he realized they also had people important in their lives—wives and sons and daughters. As much as he wanted to avenge Pauline’s death, he also did not want anyone else feeling the pain he did at this moment.
“Fine,” he said with a sigh and a mental promise to never stop searching for the men responsible on his own time. “What do we do now then?”
“We take turns patrolling,” Jeb Greene, the other deputy said. He had salt and pepper streaks through his hair and a weathered face to match. Jeb was one of the Greene brothers who had been part of the original settlement of the town.
“That sounds fine,” Jesse said with a curt nod. “Where should I patrol?”
“We have a rotation,” the sheriff said, pointing to a scribbled list on the wall. “One person stays here to watch any prisoners and be ready in case anyone in town needs help. The other two patrol the town borders. We lost Josiah yesterday in the bank robbery, but with the addition of you, there are still three of us.”
Jesse glanced at the other men. In his grief over Pauline, he had forgotten Josiah had been killed as well, and these men were probably upset too.
“Jeb, why don’t you take Jesse and show him the patrol route?” the sheriff continued. “I will hold down the fort here.”
Jesse nodded, though he wondered if there were a better way as the patrols yesterday hadn’t stopped the robbery or the killings from happening. He followed Jeb out to where their horses were tied up.
With a swift motion, he untied the reins and then swung up and mounted Molly, who had been a gift from his mother the summer before she died. Pale and sickly, his mother had never fully adjusted to the rigor of the West and had caught a fever ten years ago and never recovered. While his father had been broken, Jesse had been even more so and when he was old enough, he had left the small town in east Texas and traveled further west, stopping in Sage Creek when he found a job and a possibility of owning his own land.
After a year of working with a rancher on the outskirts of town, mending his fences and wrangling his cattle, he had earned enough to buy a small piece of land of his own. A year later he had met Pauline. Pauline, who without knowing it, had inspired him to start his own ranch. It hadn’t been easy, but he now had enough livestock to make a decent living. Unfortunately, he no longer had Pauline to share that life with.
“It isn’t a perfect system,” Jeb said as he led the way out of town, “but we ride in a slow circle around the town, paying closest attention to the road to Lisbon and the road from Belleville as that is where this pack of bandits seems to come from most often. Yesterday, we rode together, but after what happened, I am going to suggest we each take half of the perimeter. Perhaps that will make it harder for them to sneak past us.”
“Alright,” Jesse said. He knew the likelihood of the men hitting again today was small, but he hoped they would be stupid enough to try it and that he’d be the one they crossed.
* * *
Jesse sat in the far corner of the saloon that night nursing a beer. He rarely drank and never frequented the saloon, but since losing Pauline yesterday, he felt lost. The patrol today had been uneventful, and while Jesse was glad to not have more violence, he could not help feeling the need to be doing something more to avenge Pauline.
“Sorry about your loss, hon.”
Jesse looked up to see a buxom blond standing over his table. Her bright red corset was cinched tight with black laces to create the illusion of a thinner waist, but all it did was send extra skin spilling over the top. Jesse dropped his eyes. These scantily clad women were only one reason he had generally avoided saloons.
“Thank you,” he mumbled into his mug.
“I could help you forget your pain,” she said in a suggestive voice as her hand touched his arm.
Jesse flung her arm away and stood up. “Don’t touch me.” The room tilted and spun as he tried to focus. Somewhere in the midst of the swaying, he saw the girl cower back before the long-haired owner rushed to her side.
“What’s the problem, Lizzie?” the owner growled. Clad entirely in black with dark eyes and a scar on his cheek, the man was a fearsome sight even when he wasn’t angry, but when irritated, his face grew red and mottled, reminding Jesse of a bull about to charge. The normally noisy establishment was now silent, watching the scene unfold, and undoubtedly waiting for a fight to breakout. Though Jesse had never participated, he had often heard the men of the town talk about the entertainment of fights at the saloon.
“It was my fault, Wyatt,” the woman said. Though still quiet, her voice held a firm resolve. “He just lost his fiancée, and I pushed him when I shouldn’t have.”
Wyatt turned to Jesse who was leaning against the wall, trying to keep from getting sick. Alcohol was another reason he didn’t frequent saloons. He never had learned to like the taste, and he hated what it did to his stomach.
“I think it is time you left for tonight,” Wyatt said. “I don’t like my ladies getting upset.”
“I was just leaving anyway,” Jesse slurred. He pulled a few coins from his pocket and tossed them on the table before staggering out of the saloon.
He should never have been in there, not as a Christian and not now that he was a deputy. It did not create the type of image he wanted to portray, and it didn’t make him feel any better; but with Pauline gone, his life was suddenly upside down, and he no longer knew which way was up. Even worse, he wasn’t sure that he cared.
He had almost made it to his horse when something caught his foot and he stumbled, falling onto the dusty ground. For a minute, he thought about simply laying his head down and sleeping off his stupor there, but before he could, a hand appeared in front of his face. Jesse raised his eyes to see Pastor Lewis staring down at him.
“I was hoping to find you, Jesse,” the pastor said. His soft, kind voice usually uplifted Jesse’s spirits, but tonight Jesse didn’t want pity. He just wanted the pain to stop.
“Why, Pastor? Why did he take her?”
The pastor took Jesse’s hand and helped him stand. “We can’t always see God’s plan, but he has one, Jesse, and we have to trust that good will come even in the midst of our trials.”
Chapter 5
Kate rubbed her eyes as the sunlight streamed through the window opposite her. She wanted to roll over and fall back to sleep, but every part of her body ached from the hard, wooden bed.
“Good morning, Kate. How did you sleep?”
Ah, yes, Ellen was the inconsiderate neighbor who had lifted her shade at whatever ungodly hour it was. “Not as well as I’d hoped,” Kate said, pushing herself into a seated position. “How do people travel on these things for days on end? I need a decent bed and a washing in the worst way.”
Ellen smiled. “I suppose when you have lived as long as I have, you will have slept on a myriad of beds, some more comfortable than others. I find I can sleep almost anywhere now because of it.”
“Did you move often?” Kate asked. She had only ever lived in the house with her parents and then the house with Robert and both had been of adequate standards. They might not have been rich, but they had actual beds and wash basins that were filled daily.
“Well, I was born in England. We moved to the Americas when I was about twenty-five. Unfortunately, my husband had a hard time finding work, and we were forced to move a few times until he could find a steady job. I didn’t mind it as much, but my daughter never adjusted to the multiple moves, and when she was old enough, she moved West with her husband in hopes of finding a permanent home. I have only been out there once before, but she seemed happy.”
“I thought you said this was your first time on a train,” Kate said, confused.
Ellen laughed and sat next to Kate. “That is true. The last time I went, I had to make the whole journey by stagecoach. It was a long journey, and I much prefer the train.”
“How long did it take by stagecoach?” Kate asked.
“Weeks,” Ellen said with a smile. “And while I’ll still have to take a stagecoach to get to Sage Creek, it will be a much shorter journey this time. I do believe there is a wash basin on board if you would like to venture with me to find it.”
“I would love that,” Kate said as she touched her hair. It was no longer in the position she had placed it yesterday before leaving, and she felt grimy.
As the other passengers in the sleeping car began to stir, the two women made their way down the aisle in search of a place to clean up.
* * *
Jesse stood a respectful distance from the gravesite. Though he wanted to be up front, after all Pauline had nearly been his wife, James had made it abundantly clear that Jesse was neither wanted nor welcome up front with the family. And so he stood, with his hat in his hands at the back, feeling very much like an outsider.
“Pauline’s life was taken far too early,” Pastor Lewis said from the front. “But we have to remember that God has a plan for everything. We often do not know why things happen, but He does. Remember that He knows of every hair on your head, and He has a purpose for everything He allows to happen. That does not mean we cannot mourn Pauline, for she was a dear sister, daughter, and friend to all of us, but we know that she is in a better place with no suffering and pain. For that we can rejoice.”
He paused and looked out over the small crowd gathered. “Is there anyone who would like to say a word on Pauline’s behalf? Or share a story from memory?”
Jesse wanted to barge his way to the front. He had so many memories of Pauline. The way she smiled at him when he entered a room. The way her laugh sounded musical like the bells they sometimes played in church at Christmas. Or the way her hand felt like the finest silk, but no one wanted to hear these memories. And if he were honest, Jesse didn’t want to share them. He wanted to tuck his memories inside and hold them close to his heart.
When Rebecca, Pauline’s childhood friend, stepped forward, Jesse knew it was time for him to go. There was nothing more he could do here and listening to other people’s memories of Pauline wouldn’t fill the hole in his heart.
Glad for once he was at the back, Jesse slipped quietly away from the grave site. He had tied Molly up to a tree out of sight, and he headed that direction. She was happily munching on some grass when he approached; blissfully unaware of the surrounding sadness.
As he rode back to his homestead, Jesse wondered about his future. Of course, he would do nothing until he avenged her death, but after that, what? He had stayed in Sage Creek for Pauline. With her gone, should he pull up roots and find a new home?
* * *
Kate was especially glad she had made a friend in Ellen when the train pulled into the final station and they were forced to switch to the stage coach. Though it was her first time as well, Ellen seemed to know what to do and who to talk to in order to make sure their trunks were pulled off the train and loaded onto the correct stagecoach. It made Kate wonder if there were some book she should have read before making the trip.
“How do you know how to do all of this?” Kate asked as her curiosity got the better of her.
Ellen laughed as she gathered her bag. “I asked a friend who made a trip a few months ago. I figured the process could not have changed that much in that short amount of time though it feels like technology is changing every day. One day I believe we will have some form of transportation even faster than a train.”
“That would be something,” Kate agreed, “though I cannot see how it would work. Even trains are expensive. How would we ever afford something faster?”
“Well, that is what I said about trains before they became more prevalent but look at me now.”
Kate nodded and followed Ellen off the train and to the platform where their trunks had been unloaded.
“Where would you ladies like these taken?” the porter asked them.
“You can place them over at the stagecoach office,” Ellen said, handing him a few coins and pointing to a smaller building off to the left that had a similar platform to the train station.
“Yes ma’am,” the man said and began hefting their trunks toward the building.
“Shall we check in?” Ellen asked.
Kate nodded, but her attention was focused on the town around her. It was very different from Boston. Everything was brown and there were not as many trees. While there were buildings, they were all single stories whereas some of the buildings back home were several stories tall.
“Kate? Are you coming?” Ellen asked, placing a black gloved hand on Kate’s arm.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” Kate stammered. “I was just struck by how different it is here.” She followed Ellen to the stagecoach office where Ellen purchased her ticket and Kate redeemed the pass she had been sent.
“Well, it looks like we have a few minutes before the coach arrives,” Ellen said. “Would you like to walk around?”
Kate nodded. Her body was not used to being in an enclosed space for such a long time. “Where might we go to look at fabric? I’d like to see what the styles are out here as I have the feeling I will be overdressed.”
“Nonsense,” Ellen said, placing her hands on her hips. “The women here aren’t that far behind us. Maybe they don’t bustle, but otherwise your dresses will be similar, though probably of a nicer fabric. However, I do love seeing the latest fashions myself, and I bet the Mercantile will have what we are looking for.”
She led the way across the dusty road and into the shop. Kate was surprised how much smaller it was than her fabric shop in Boston. The one back home was two stories and held all sorts of fabrics laid out with enough space in between that you could see each one. This shop had maybe a quarter of the selection and all the fabric was jammed together to fit in the shop.
“Can I help you find anything?” A blond woman with her hair pulled back in a knot at the nape of her neck approached them. Her grey Calico dress was simple with no bustle at the back, but it did have a row of lace around the collar and at the bottom of the sleeves.
“We are just looking to see what the current fabric might be,” Ellen said.
“We just received some lovely velvet and satin in,” the woman said, leading the way to the fabric closest to the window. “This is what most women are wearing in the winter. I know it’s a little early, but it never hurts to be prepared.”
Kate admired the dark green and sapphire blue colors of the velvet and satin fabrics as the woman continued.
“Of course, we also have some lovely cotton that just came in. This herringbone was especially popular for outerwear this last year.”
“Thank you,” Ellen said. “Might we spend some time looking around?”
The woman nodded. “My name is Mary. If you need anything, just holler.”
“Do you sew?” Ellen asked Kate as Mary walked away.
Kate dropped her eyes. “I do, but I am not very accomplished. I preferred riding to sitting in a house sewing. My mother made most of my dresses or hired the local seamstress in town. Do they have seamstresses out here?”
“I’m sure they do,” Ellen said, “but I imagine you will find sewing to be a necessary skill. You had best find a tutor when you can.”
The women spent the next hour looking through the shop, and Ellen purchased some of the deep purple velvet. Kate wanted to purchase some as well, but she had no idea what else she might have to buy and therefore wanted to make sure she had enough money in case of an emergency.
By the time they left the store, the stagecoach was pulling up to the office.
“Perfect timing,” Ellen said with a smile. “Now, we just have a few more hours on the road.”
Kate sighed at the thought. The train hadn’t been extremely comfortable, but at least they had been able to stand up and move around. The stagecoach would have no such amenities.
“You ladies have your tickets?” the driver of the stagecoach asked as
they approached.
“Yes sir,” Ellen said and handed over her ticket. Kate followed suit.
“Alright,” he said after looking them over. “Do you have any other baggage?”
“Yes, those trunks.” Ellen pointed to the baggage sitting against the wall of the stagecoach office.
The driver nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll load them up. My name is Mr. Cooper. I’m going to check and see if we have any more passengers or a shotgun messenger. We don’t often run without one.”
“Does that mean we could be stuck here?” Kate asked as Thomas stepped into the stagecoach office. She had a little extra money, but she hadn’t planned on having to stay at many inns along the way.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’ll work it out.” Ellen tried to sound brave, but Kate didn’t miss the uncertainty in her voice or the look of concern that crossed her face.
The driver re-emerged from the office with one stern woman and one mousy man following him. The man was continually pushing spectacles up the bridge of his nose. Kate hoped he wasn’t their shotgun messenger as she wasn’t sure he could hit the broad side of a barn.
“Are we not still missing one person?” Kate asked.
“No, it turns out we won’t have a shotgun messenger on this trip as we aren’t carrying a strongbox.”
Kate wasn’t sure whether that made her feel better or worse. With no strongbox, hopefully they wouldn’t be a target for robbers, but the extra protection of the shotgun rider would have been nice.
“Alright everyone, I'll load up this last baggage, and we’ll get on our way.”
“Norman, help him out, why don’t you?” the stern-faced woman said to the mousy man.
“It looks like he has it, love, and besides my back, you know?” He pushed the spectacles up again as he spoke.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Well, then help me inside.”