Page 33 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 3

“Rion’s wanted for murder ?” Andie’s words barely sounded above the rumbling wagon wheels.

Calliope nodded. “And kidnapping and attempted murder. Will you defend him in court?”

She gawked. “I—I—He’s not guilty, is he?”

Joe glanced her way. “He’s being framed.”

“Framed?”

“He needs a good attorney.” Calliope’s weighty stare nearly chilled her to her core. “He needs you.”

“I—” Calliope had mentioned there was trouble, but Rion … wanted for murder? “Oh dear.”

At the same moment she stammered like an imbecile, Calliope’s gaze flew to some point, and she swatted Joe.

“Is that Maya Fellows?”

Joe glanced toward the cemetery on Andie’s right, and he frowned.

There, a woman atop a big horse charged along the low stone wall surrounding the graveyard, flailing one arm, trying to flag them. Joe drew the wagon to a stop, though the woman galloped on for some distance, headed straight toward a tree’s low-hanging limbs. In horror, Andie gripped the wagon bench with one hand, Calliope’s wrist with the other, as they all watched.

At the last moment, the woman faced front to see the huge obstacle, and she ducked. Her top hat flew off, and her horse slowed. Heart pounding, Andie held her breath. Surely they’d see an empty saddle or the woman badly injured. But when she emerged on the far side of the tree, the only difference in her appearance was her hat was missing and her braid had uncoiled itself from its bun.

Joe flicked the reins and moved toward the tree. “Are you all right?”

The woman faced them again, one hand over her heart. “That was nearly a disaster.”

Calliope leaned around Andie. “Are you hurt, Miss Fellows?”

“Thankfully, no. Although I’ll need to repin my hair.”

“What in heaven’s name were you doing?” Joe scowled.

The woman laughed. “Trying to get your attention. How is Rion?”

They all gaped. When Joe noticed another wagon coming in the distance, he motioned. “We’ll come talk to you so we don’t have to shout.”

At her nod, Joe wheeled the wagon in the opposite direction.

“Let’s mind what we say, Joe.” Calliope glanced at him.

“Agreed.”

“Who is this person?”

Calliope smoothed her skirt. “Maya Fellows—a former … interest … of Rion’s. When she heard he’d been arrested, she appeared at the jail, offering help.”

“Our brother’s in jail?”

Joe shook his head. “He escaped from jail. He’s on the run.”

“Oh, Lord Jesus, help.” She cradled her head in her hand. “Please start at the beginning.”

By the time they neared the cemetery entrance, another rider had approached Miss Fellows from within the cemetery and held her hat out.

That dratted long-legged cowboy—Daniel Littrick. What was he doing there?

Joe pulled through the open gate, parked, and climbed down as Miss Fellows and Mr. Littrick led their horses in their direction. While Joe assisted Callie down, Mr. Littrick chuckled at something Maya Fellows said, the sound rich and warm.

Andie crinkled her nose. The man was flirting … and Miss Fellows’ coy smiles and occasional giggles seemed to egg him on.

She glanced at her top hat and, with a perplexed look, laughed at the mangled brim. “I suppose that was much closer than I realized.”

“Like I said, it was a spectacular display of good fortune or superior skill. Not sure which. All I know is I expected we’d be rushing you to the nearest doctor for a serious head wound, but all that needs surgery is your hat brim.” Mr. Littrick touched the floppy piece, which had come unattached from the body of the hat, except for a one-inch length that still held it all together.

Again, she giggled. “Call it pure, dumb luck, Mr …?”

“Daniel Littrick, miss.”

“A pleasure, Mr. Littrick.” The woman’s smile was so sweet, if she’d held it much longer, her lips might’ve frozen as all the sugar hardened into cement.

Was Mr. Littrick a natural-born flirt, or was this some show just for her? Not that it mattered …

Joe helped Andie down then strode up to Miss Fellows. “You’re sure you’re unharmed?”

“Yes, Mr. Nesbitt. Thank you.”

She leaned closer to Calliope. “Nesbitt?”

“Play along. I’ll explain later.”

Mr. Littrick squinted Joe’s way. “You look familiar. Do I know you, Nesbitt?”

“You live up around Cambria Springs, don’t you?”

“I do.” He glanced her way, then back to Joe. “Your companion gave quite a tongue-lashing on the train. Hope she’s going easier on you than me.”

Andie stiffened. “If you’d like to continue this petty feud, I’ll oblige you, but I suspect we all have better things to do.”

That stupid smirk returned. Oh, how she’d like to wipe it from his face.

“That’s enough.” Joe held up a hand. “None of us wants trouble.”

“No,” Miss Fellows cut in. “In fact, I hope you’ll understand, Mr. Littrick, but I need to speak with Mr. Nesbitt and Miss Jarrett about my beau. Please excuse us.”

“Lu won’t appreciate her calling Rion her beau,” Callie mumbled.

“Lu?” Andie’s head swam.

“I’ll explain later.” Callie crossed to where Miss Fellows stood.

“Sure.” Mr. Littrick gave a slight bow. “Have yourself a pleasant day.” He led his paint horse away, riding down the row of graves.

“And you are?” Miss Fellows turned in her direction.

“Needing to stretch my legs. Excuse me.” Andie meandered around the wagon and made her way down the same row, reading headstones, calculating ages, and otherwise entertaining herself as she waited. As she walked, one grave draped with a brightly colored quilt caught her eye. She admired the patchwork, then read the name and dates on the headstone. Odd. The date of death was July Fourth—America’s Independence Day. The anniversary would’ve been only days ago.

“Pardon, miss!” Maya Fellows called out.

Andie turned.

“Would you bring my quilt when you come, please?”

She gathered the blanket, folding it as she paced back toward the wagon. Reaching the three, she handed off the quilt.

“Thank you.” The woman rolled it and, struggling, managed to tie its bulk behind her saddle. “All of you.” She turned specifically toward Joe and Callie. “Please, give my best wishes to Rion when you see him.”

They said their farewells, and once Joe helped them into the wagon, they departed.

“What was that about?” Andie asked once they were out of earshot.

Joe slapped the reins. “Maya Fellows is a former flame of Rion’s. The very morning he was arrested, she happened to be in Cambria Springs—so she could see the medicine show that had come through town. She offered her help—mainly her pa’s money—then regaled us with stories. Rion told her to come stay with friends in Denver. But when she saw us passing by, she had to have an update on how her beau is doing.”

“And … Lu?”

“Lucinda Peters. She’s … ah …” Callie blew out a breath. “We have so much to explain.”

“Obviously.”

What had she gotten herself into?

The sun sank behind the horizon as Daniel reached Cambria Springs, but rather than heading straight home, he stopped first at the Wells Fargo office near the town square. The door was locked tight, and the shades were drawn. However, the lamp inside was obviously still lit. He dismounted, tied Briar, and knocked.

“We’re closed!” came a familiar voice from inside.

“Hector Darden!” He called loudly enough to be heard. “It’s Daniel. Open the door.”

An instant later, Heck lifted the shade.

“You know I can’t.” His friend overenunciated his words.

“How long till you’re done?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe?”

“You hungry?”

At Heck’s nod, he motioned. “Meet me at Dutch’s Café when you’re done.”

Heck nodded. “Sounds good.”

“See you over there soon.”

It took him every bit of the twenty minutes to ride home, change clothes, get Briar settled in the livery, and make it to the café—though Heck arrived at the same time.

“How are ya?” He grinned. “You look tired.”

Daniel nodded. “Long trip. Moving Pa to Cheyenne wasn’t the pleasantest way to spend my time.”

They took a table in the corner, away from the other diners.

“He’s settled, though?”

He waved a hand. “Yeah. Seems happy to be with most of his kids. Of course, there was all kinds of pressure for me to move up there, but …” He shrugged.

“Man, you’ve got to live your own life. Not theirs.”

He chuckled. “I stopped by Ma’s grave today and came to the same conclusion.”

“Good.”

Dutch approached the table, his demeanor surlier than Daniel could ever recall. “Evenin’, fellas. All I got left at this hour is beef stew or chicken and dumplings. And a few pieces of apple pie.”

Daniel and Heck looked wide-eyed at each other.

“I’ll take the dumplings—and pie.” Daniel’s belly growled in anticipation.

Heck grinned. “I’ll take the stew. And pie.”

“Done. Have it out in a couple minutes.” The man retreated.

Daniel looked at Heck. “What’s with him? He’s usually happier than that.”

His friend’s eyebrows rose. “Reckon you haven’t heard, have you?”

“Heard what?”

“Since you’ve been gone, Sheriff Downing captured a fella what looks like the one who murdered Miss Mary, who used to wait tables here in the café, and that soiled dove.”

“Who’d he capture?”

Heck leaned nearer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial level. “You know that bounty hunter, Braddock, what comes around here from time to time?”

“Can’t say I’ve met him, but I know who you mean.” He thought a moment. “Isn’t he some kind of friend of Dutch’s?”

“Kin.” Heck leaned closer still. “Or close to it.”

“So this Braddock fella murdered Dutch’s waitress?”

“I get the sense Dutch doesn’t believe it’s him. But since you’ve been gone, Miss Hattie—you know, Mrs. Ingram’s daughter, the one with the bad legs?”

“Yeah.”

“She went missin’. And Downing arrested Braddock for it. Then Braddock escaped the jail and took another woman.”

“So he kidnapped two women?”

“The other woman—Lucinda Peters—says she wasn’t kidnapped. She’s some kind of reporter, wantin’ his story, so she rode with him to get it. And Hattie Ingram’s been found but in real bad shape. Stabbed a bunch of times, part of her hair shaved like Mary and Serafina. They say she’s on the mend, but ain’t nobody seen her except those at Mrs. Ingram’s place.”

“Thank God she’s been found! Have they recaptured Braddock?”

“Not yet. The man’s in his element out there.” He jutted his chin toward the front of the building. “From what I’ve gathered, he sleeps under the stars or in caves most nights. Always on the hunt for a bounty. Only now, he’s the hunted.”

“A fine time to leave, huh?”

“You missed a lot.”

Dutch deposited the steaming bowls and plates of warm pie as well as two glasses of water on the table and retreated.

“Word is, Braddock was injured. Posse found blood—a fair bit. But they still haven’t found him. They think he got help from another friend up the mountain, Seth Kealey, after Miss Peters and Miss Hattie were found at his place. But they’ve been back for more than a week, and nobody’s seen Braddock.”

“Is the posse still tracking him?” Daniel blew on his chicken and dumplings.

“Posse started droppin’ out and headin’ home once the women were found, leavin’ just Downing and a couple others.” Heck stirred his stew and tasted it, continuing to talk around the mouthful. “With Downing’s election later this year, he can’t afford to leave the town unprotected.”

“True.” Daniel took a bite, enjoying the warmth and the taste.

“So he called in the territorial marshal. Whole town’s on edge.”

He blew out a breath. “Guess I oughtn’t leave again if this is what happens when I do.”

“So how was the trip?” Heck washed his next bite down with water.

“Pa’s settled. Happy. Everyone’s pleased havin’ him there.”

“So nothin’ eventful.”

“Unless you count today. The train ride home was interesting … and then the time at the cemetery.”

“Train wasn’t robbed, was it?”

“Nothing like that. I sat next to a woman. Real pretty, but—” He shook his head. “About as pretentious as they come. Thing that made her interesting was, she was reading Blackstone.” He spooned up another bite of chicken.

“Blackstone?” Heck looked surprised. “As in, Sir William?”

“That’s the one. I’d have talked to her about it, but every time I tried, she insinuated I was too stupid to understand.”

“You’re only about the smartest fella in town.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” But he did have a college degree—a rarity out here.

“You tell her you aced law school?”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ace law school. I passed. And why? I’ve got nothing to prove.”

“I’d’ve told her, but—” Heck took a big bite. “What about the cemetery?”

“Strangest thing. Some woman was there, visiting a grave, sees someone on the road, and goes charging through the cemetery on horseback trying to flag the wagon down. About took her own head off when she about rode into a low-hanging tree limb. At the last possible moment, she shifted sideways and just missed it.”

“Hoo!” Heck’s eyes grew wide. “That had to be somethin’. How’d she react?”

“That’s what was so strange. She almost seemed to relish the attention.” He took a drink. “She wore this top hat, and it was a close-enough call that her hat brim got torn off, but for about that much.” He indicated the inch that had remained connected.

Heck looked even more surprised. “She loco or something?”

“Durn if I know. Turns out, she was flagging down the woman from the train and the couple that came to pick her up. Once they drove into the cemetery, I went my way.” He shrugged. “So all the excitement came today.”

“And you come home to all this.”

Daniel chuckled. “Maybe movin’ to Cheyenne has some appeal after all …”