Caleb's Rain Lily Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 1) Page 11

  Maggie handed over the water and attempted a smile. He still felt obligated to care for them. Something told her Nancy wouldn’t appreciate it if he took the same concern for them once the two of them were married.

  Chapter 20

  Unable to sleep, Maggie stared out the window. The moon hid behind the clouds, leaving the town dark. The piano was silent. Caleb had said it had taken no less than twelve shots to its wooden frame that afternoon, several pieces of it strewn throughout the big room. Bailey had already sent a telegram to have a new one delivered. He thought it would be two weeks.

  The player had been in the midst of a song when the first bullets whizzed into the instrument, and witnesses said he had barely escaped another blast of them as he dove under a nearby table and huddled with two of the girls.

  After all the complaints she muttered to herself nightly concerning the noise, she found it hard to doze off without it. Throwing back the muslin sheet, she reached for her shawl and padded in bare feet across the smooth planks to the window. Despite the heat of the day, it was beginning to cool at night and she shivered in the breeze that came through the opening.

  Lights from the saloon shone onto Main Street, but not much noise came through the open window. An occasional cheer slapped the air as someone won a hand at cards. Glancing down toward the sheriff’s office, she could see a lamp in the window. The town was on alert. And for how much longer? They were like a herd of deer, ever watchful, always expecting danger. Surely they weren’t supposed to live like this.

  Caleb had come back after he left for the night to tell them that he was going to send Rusty Hilton, a hand at the livery, to Austin, with the picture of the dead man. Joe Sikes, owner of the livery, was going to supply the rider with his fastest horse. It was possible he would be back late tomorrow, if there was any information to be had. Otherwise, he would wait for the rangers to try and find out a bit more. Or possibly bring them back with him.

  She snorted and then hiccupped. Getting the Rangers to come to Chance had been futile in the past. But if the dead man was important enough, they just might show their faces in town. It was easy to imagine the wave of relief that would pass through the population if they actually came riding into town.

  Her eyes still on the office, she watched as the door opened and Caleb stepped outside. A spasm of fear ran through her. What was he doing out alone? The door was still open behind him, and the lamplight cast a soft glow onto his shoulders. The door opened wider and another man stepped out.

  She strained to make out who he was. A flicker of recognition flashed through her before she realized that it was Job Sayer. She wrapped her fingers around the edges of her shawl and shivered. Caleb should know better than to invite that man into his office.

  She watched as they talked a moment longer, then Job turned and headed back to Bailey’s. Caleb stood and watched until the man stepped into the saloon. Then, he turned and disappeared inside the office, closing the door behind him.

  ***

  Maggie pulled the quilt over her shoulder. All this tossing around was leaving her more exhausted than she had felt when she had finally gone to bed. Downstairs, she heard the clock strike four. She closed her eyes and feigned sleep. But it was no use.

  A half hour later, the clock chimed again. Well, that was enough for her. She was wasting her time just lying around in this uncomfortable bed. Might as well be doing something productive.

  She sat up and reached for her trousers. What she needed was a strong cup of coffee. Maybe several of them if she was going to make it through the day.

  Dressed, she lit the oil lamp and walked across the room to the wash stand. Pouring the cold water into the bowl, she splashed the wetness on her face. Her breath was quick as the water touched her skin. The cotton towel Gram had placed on the stand did the job of drying her face.

  Staring at her reflection, she picked up her comb and undid the long braid. Even with her hair down, she was no match for Nancy Rollins. The woman was a natural beauty. The best that Maggie could hope for was a fellow that didn’t see too well.

  Guilt poked into her thoughts. Ian had been a handsome man, with plenty of women tagging after him, yet he had chosen her. And he had loved her, as she had him. But maybe that was a once in a lifetime thing. For her, anyway. Picking up a clasp, she pulled her hair back, fastening it securely.

  Grabbing the rifle, she headed to the stairway. A strong scent of coffee wafted up the stairs, as she paused at the top. Only Gram could make coffee smell like that. Seems no one in the house had been able to sleep.

  Downstairs, Maggie paused at the kitchen door and watched her grandmother. Reba was the only mother she had ever known. Without her, Maggie would have been left an orphan, as so many had been during the war. But God had spared her life from such loneliness and poverty, and she and Gram had made it through together.

  Dressed in her favorite blue calico, covered by a muslin apron, the older woman’s barely grey hair was done up neatly in a bun. Sleeves rolled up, she was busy adding more bacon to a skillet that was just starting to sizzle.

  “Good morning, Gram. I thought I was the early one,” she teased, as she stepped into the room. She gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek, breathing in the scent of soap and peppermint. Gram always smelled nice, like she was on her way to Sunday meeting. “You’re always a punctual five o’clock riser. What happened?”

  Reba shrugged. “It was a hard night and I couldn’t take another second of it.” She dropped another strip of bacon into the heavy skillet.

  Maggie shook her head. How the woman got bacon to cook with it layered on itself like that was a mystery to her. When she tried it, it was just a greasy mess.

  “I take it you didn’t sleep well either?” Reba asked, as she reached for a tin of flour and measured out two cups of it into a blue graniteware bowl.

  Maggie watched as she scooped in a spoonful of lard, then measured in a spoonful of baking soda, working it all together with her hands. “Not much.”

  Reba sighed. “We both ought to sleep real good tonight, granddaughter.”

  Maggie poured herself a cup of coffee and reached for the small crock of cream. That was what she was afraid of. Until things were settled up around here, she needed to be as alert as possible. “Maybe. I’m hoping for a short nap this afternoon.” She took a sip of her coffee and stirred the bacon around with a large fork. “Do you want me to go get some eggs? There ought to be a couple of fresh ones by now. You know old Bitsy always lays early, and so does that big brown one.”

  Reba shook her head. “Not until it’s daylight. I promised Caleb that neither of us would step outside in the dark.” She shot a pointed look at Maggie. “And I aim to keep that promise.”

  Maggie grinned and walked to the window. Pink light was beginning to glow in the east. “Well it won’t be long before the sun is up.” And it wouldn’t hurt to let Gram keep her promise, though the possibility of a Sayer lying in wait in the chicken coop was unlikely, she smiled to herself.

  Seating herself at the tiny table in the kitchen, Maggie rubbed her eyes and tried to force herself awake. How was it possible to feel like sleeping at the table and be wide awake in the bed? Maybe she should be drinking cold water instead of hot coffee. The steam was probably making her drowsy.

  “Looks like you need to go back to bed, girl,” Reba observed, reaching for the pitcher of buttermilk. “The both of us are going to be worn out, I’m sure.”

  “I would, if I thought it would do me any good.” Lying awake all night had done nothing but put her in a cranky mood, and she would be fighting it all day. Please help me keep my temper today, Lord.

  Reba mixed the dough, then patted it out. She removed a pan from the oven and swished around the melted lard, setting it on the counter. Cutting the dough with the end of a can, she dipped each piece in the melted fat, then flipped it over. “We’ll get through this, Maggie. We’ve put up with worse.”

  Maggie stared into her coffee, watching
the cream swirl. Gram was right. This was nothing compared to the war. At least they only had to be awake and alert for a short time. The Sayers wouldn’t let this go on for long. They had other people and towns to terrorize and rob, she was sure.

  Reba put the pan of biscuits in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. “Once those are done, I’ll start frying a couple of eggs for Caleb. I don’t want to make them too early, or he’ll have a cold breakfast.”

  Maggie yawned and glanced toward the window. She could see blue in the sky. That qualified as daylight to her. She stood and took another swig of her coffee. “I’m going to open up the front door and let some air in here.”

  She smiled at the extra latch that had been locked on the door. Gram must have come back down after their lights were out and made sure no one was coming through, or if they attempted it, the noise would awaken both of them in time to grab their guns.

  Turning the knob she pulled the door back and propped it open with the extra flat iron they kept for that purpose. The breeze was cool and refreshing after the hot air in the kitchen and she stayed in the doorway, enjoying the slight chill on her face. Leaning there, she allowed her gaze to wander toward the sheriff’s office. No one was stirring. Still, Caleb should be coming to breakfast soon.

  She clasped her hands together and pressed them against her waist. She could still feel his warm and calloused fingers wrapped around her own. If only that was where they really belonged. But his–

  Maggie jumped as a scream filled the air. Heart pounding, she dropped her thoughts and rushed to the counter. Retrieving her rifle, she headed back to the door.

  Chapter 21

  Back outside, she could see one of Bailey’s girls standing in the middle of the road, a man sprawled at her feet. As she got closer, she could see that it was Blossom Hines wailing over the man. The girl was scantily clad in a white shift, a green crochet shawl covering her shoulders. Her hand was firmly clamped over her mouth.

  Maggie arrived at her side and stared down at the body of Job Sayer. There was no need to check and see if he was still alive. His hazy blue eyes were wide with fear in response to the terror of his last moments. A large knife protruded from his stomach and the ground around him was soaked in blood. Her eyes stopped on the knife and a shiver of fear ran through her. She had seen that knife before, or one very like it.

  Swallowing back her own fear, Maggie put her arm around Blossom’s shoulders. The girl was trembling, more from fright than cold, she guessed. “Did you see what happened?”

  The dark-headed woman shook her head and pulled her hand away from her mouth. “I just stepped out here for a bit of fresh air and...and there he was. Just like that!”

  Boots pounded the solid ground and she looked away to see a hatless Caleb, rifle in hand, running toward them. His hair was uncombed and his face still showed signs of soap bubbles. No doubt, Blossom’s screaming had taken him by surprise.

  Without speaking to them, he was on his knees at once, examining the body. He looked up at Maggie. “This didn’t just happen. I’d say he’s been dead a good while.”

  She nodded in agreement. The blood was beginning to thicken and, though she hadn’t touched him, the body looked as if it was already beginning to stiffen. Which meant Job Sayer had been lying on the street for several hours. With Bailey’s Saloon open all night, it seemed impossible that no one had noticed a dead man in the street. Someone must have ridden through and seen him lying there.

  Caleb stood and first looked at Blossom. “Did you see or hear anything?”

  She trembled as she took a deep breath. “He was in the saloon, drinking, most of the night. I saw him when he left, but he was alone. I just thought he’d finally gone on home.”

  Caleb pushed for more. “Was he sitting with anyone, talking with anyone while he was in there?”

  Blossom paused a moment as she thought. “Not that I recall. Except for Bernadette. She sat with him a while. She’s gone on to bed, but you could wake her and talk to her.”

  Caleb nodded and turned to look at the faces of the townspeople that had begun to assemble around them. Reba had arrived and was taking charge of Blossom. Joe Sikes walked down from the livery and Wally Stoner ran up just then and joined the crowd of onlookers.

  Caleb cleared his throat and spoke loudly. “Did any of you see anything?”

  Arms folded, they all remained tight-lipped, until Wally Stoner stepped forward and broke the silence. “Since he was knifed, no one would have heard when it happened. I didn’t know anything until I heard Blossom scream and looked out to see Maggie running toward her.”

  Maggie watched as Caleb turned his eyes back to Job’s body. It would be easy for him to assume that someone in town, probably someone standing there that moment, had taken Job by surprise sometime early in the morning. Would that be how he handled the murder? If he spent all of his time questioning the citizens, they would start to doubt him. Still, it might be true. The murderer might be standing here with all of them. Please, Lord, don’t let it be so. They’re all good people. We just want peace. Help Caleb to find the truth, so we won’t all live in suspicion of each other. That would be worse than the fear they had endured for so long.

  “If you don’t need to talk to Blossom anymore, I’ll help her on up to her room,” Reba said to Caleb. “I think she might need to rest.”

  He nodded to the older woman. “Thank you, Reba. That will be fine. And I’ll just go on in and talk to Bailey and maybe Bernadette. See if anyone knows anything.”

  He turned to the crowd. “I need a few of you men to take the body on down to the sheriff’s office. Put him in a cell and lock him up. And somebody stay and guard the body,” he instructed as he headed toward the saloon.

  ***

  Inside Bailey’s, Caleb waited at a back table for Bernadette to come downstairs. Mark Bailey had dismissed Reba and insisted Blossom have a good swallow of whiskey to get over her shock. Caleb opened his mouth to suggest coffee, but thought better of the interference. At the moment, Blossom was upstairs waking Bernadette.

  Caleb leaned back in the chair, and let it rest against the rough board wall. He closed his eyes. His heart was still racing from the sound of that early morning scream. All that had gone through his mind was Maggie’s name, over and over. Part of him was afraid that the Sayers might come for her, blame her for the death of Hobart.

  This was the first moment to get his thoughts in order since the shriek had echoed through the street. Stepping outside, seeing Maggie in front of the Saloon with Blossom, his heart had started beating again. The relief that flowed through him when he saw her still prickled beneath his skin.

  “Can I get anything for you, Sheriff?”

  He opened his eyes to see Bailey standing over him, a long cotton towel slung over his shoulder, the front end in his hands, drying a shot glass.

  “No thanks. I just need to talk to the girl. Unless there’s something that you can tell me about last night?”

  The saloon owner shook his head. “The boy seemed quiet to me. For a Sayer, that is. Didn’t even try to get in one of the card games. ‘Course there was only a couple going on. Most won’t play if one of the Sayer’s is in town. He got up for a while and watched a game of dominoes going on in the other corner. They didn’t seem to like the attention too much,” he grinned. “Looked like a pack of jack rabbits with a hungry wolf on their tail.” His eyes narrowed and his face sobered. “Not that I blame them none.”

  Caleb nodded. “How much did he drink? I mean, was he drunk? Disrupting anything or anyone?”

  Bailey’s face scrunched and he chewed his cheek for a moment. “I won’t say he was drunk. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Those Sayers can hold a lot of whiskey. He drank most of a bottle of my best and had a few glasses of beer, as well. But no. I don’t reckon he spoke to anyone but me, when I was behind the bar, and to Bernadette. And I don’t think he was too interested in her.”

  Caleb frowned. “I don’t guess he seemed lik
e he was looking for anyone specific? You know, here to meet somebody?”

  Bailey turned and glanced as the doors swung open. Seeing it was only a boy delivering copies of the newspaper, he turned back to Caleb. “You mean like those ruffians that shot us up a few days ago?”

  Caleb put all four legs of the chair back on the floor. “I’m just fishing right now, Mark. Not much is making sense.”

  The businessman concentrated on the glass in his hand, rubbing an imaginary spot on the rim. “Mostly, he just sat back here in the back and stared into his glass. I reckon maybe he was kinda down because of losing Hobart.”

  Caleb stared. Hadn’t Maggie mentioned something about the two brothers? “I’ve heard he and Hobart didn’t get along too well.”

  Bailey nodded in agreement. “It’s true. ‘Cept when they were up to some kind of meanness. That always seemed to bring them together.”

  A door shut upstairs and both men looked to see a tall blond woman. Dressed in a white gown, hair falling loose over the ragged calico print quilt she had wrapped around her shoulders, she stared down at them for a moment, then began to descend the staircase. Her bare feet were white and snowy on the dirty wood steps. Caleb guessed her to be Bernadette.

  ***

  Maggie watched Caleb head to the saloon. She turned to see the confused faces of several of the men. “If a couple of you fellas will carry him down there, I’ll stay and watch,” she offered. That ought to sting a little. She was all but calling them cowards.

  Wally looked at Joe and motioned toward the corpse. “C’mon and help me, Joe. And I’ll stay with him,” he said, a slight nod to Maggie.

  She folded her arms in front of her and glanced at the saloon. She would have to speak to Caleb about the knife in a while. She didn’t want to arouse the curiosity of the crowd. They already had enough to think about.