The Law and Miss Mary (11 page)

Sam swept his gaze over the waving grasses on the plain, on the band of trees he was approaching. He was free to go where he wanted—but not those kids. They were locked up in cold, dark cells away from the sunlight and fresh air. And they had done nothing wrong. Nothing to deserve such treatment. It was all because they had no parents. No one to care about them.

No one but Mary Randolph.

She had brought them toys. Things to make their days a little brighter. And what a fighter, that woman! A smile tugged at his lips. Taking on the mayor of a city to fight for kids she didn’t even know. The smile died unborn. Sam stared into the distance—saw the past. What would his life have been like if there had been someone like Mary Randolph to care enough to fight for him? And what of Daniel? Maybe Daniel would have lived if there had been someone like Mary Randolph to take him into her home and nurse him when he was so sick.

Sam’s stomach knotted. He yanked his thoughts from that path. That was a dangerous,
costly
road to travel down. The past was dead. There was no help for the boy he had been, but there was plenty of help for the man he was determined to become. Help from the mayor and Levinia, to achieve all he’d dreamed of. He tried to summon her face but Mary Randolph stayed stubbornly in his thoughts.

She was a pretty woman. He had known that from the first time he saw her laugh, but he hadn’t realized
how
pretty until today, when she came hurrying out of her house with her brown eyes sparkling, her lips curved in laughter and her dark hair shining in the sun. It was the first time he’d seen her without a bonnet. She was beautiful. And when she smiled…

Sam blew a long breath of air into the twilight and shook his head. He’d had all he could do to stop staring at her. And when she had taken his arm…She sure fit well at his side.

He scowled, turned Attila onto the path toward town and slowed him to a walk. He had no business thinking about Mary Randolph. He was going to marry Levinia Stewart—even if she seemed less admirable than he had thought. He could be wrong about her. But even if he wasn’t, he was not going to give up his plans. All he needed was the deed to the land he wanted for his house. Then he would ask for her hand.

But what about those kids?

Sam reined in the horse at the stables and dismounted. He pulled open the door and led Attila inside, the comfortable sound of the horse’s hooves thudding against the puncheon floor easing his tension. He undid the cinch strap, reached for the saddle and froze.

He narrowed his eyes and absently scratched under Attila’s mane, examining the idea that had popped into his head from all sides. The argument might hold water. Maybe there
was
a way to help those kids.

Chapter Thirteen

S
am closed the door and turned to face the portly man behind the desk. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Mayor.”

“Not at all, Captain Benton.” The mayor waved him toward a chair. “What is this meeting about?”

“These street children.” Sam winced inwardly as the mayor’s eyes narrowed. If this cost him—

“What about them?”

“Well, sir. They present a problem I did not, at first, anticipate.”

“And that problem is?”

“Sickness.” Sam removed his hat and took a seat. “It has been worrying at me ever since Ka—the girl took ill a few days ago.”

“She’s worse?” A scowl darkened the mayor’s face. “You told me you would handle the problem, Captain.”

“I did, sir. When you refused money for the nursing care the doctor ordered, I had Miss Randolph brought to the jail. She is nursing the girl.” No need to tell him that he had allowed Mary Randolph to take the girl home.

The mayor’s scowl deepened. “You would do well to keep that woman away from the jail, Captain. She is a busybody! Now, what is the problem?”

A
busybody?
Because she helped the children? Sam frowned. “Quarantine.”

“What?”
The mayor jerked forward in his chair. “The jail is under
quarantine?
”

That had got his attention. Sam shook his head. “No, sir, it is not. But I have been pondering what would happen if one of the street children we arrest has some sickness that would bring that about. Consider what would happen if the jail, and my men and myself, were all placed under quarantine.”

“Unthinkable!” The mayor stared down at his desk. His short, fat fingers drummed against the smooth mahogany surface. “That would be an impossible situation.”

Sam held his silence, let the mayor’s imagination picture the situation and the resulting chaos in the city. The man lifted his head, looking at him.

“That cannot be allowed to happen, Captain.”

“I agree, sir. That is why I came to you.” Sam tightened his grip on his hat. “The city must open an orphanage to house the children. There is a building on Spruce Street—”

“Nonsense! An orphanage costs money!” The mayor rose and strode to a window to look outside. “There are more roads to be paved. The city water works must be completed. And the courthouse is to be expanded. And the park.” He pivoted, paced back to his chair. “These are the things the finer citizens of this city expect me to provide for them, Captain. Not an orphanage for the children of emigrants who die on their way west.”

Sam’s face tightened. It was becoming harder and harder to hold his tongue. To swallow the mayor’s callous attitude. He drew a calming breath. “They also expect police to protect them from the wild and unsavory elements of this town, Mr. Mayor. And if the jail were under quarantine, that service would be halted. The boatmen and mountain men would make the levee unsafe.”

“I am aware of that, Captain Benton!”

“Then, sir, you agree the children must—”

“Do not speak to me again of an orphanage, Captain! I will not be known to the fine citizens of St. Louis as the mayor who wasted their money!”

Wasted?
Sam’s hand clenched. His hat brim curled beneath his fingers. “Then what is your solution, sir?” The question came out sharper than he intended.

The mayor narrowed his eyes. “Do I detect a spirit of insubordination, Captain?”

“Only concern, sir.” Sam rose and clapped on his hat, using the time to get his temper under control. “I am concerned that this practice of housing these street children in the jail may one day interfere with my ability to perform my job.”

“I see. Well, concern yourself no more, Captain Benton.” The mayor leaned back and smiled. “There is a simple solution that will prevent such a scenario as you present from ever happening. From this time on, you and your men shall not arrest any child that shows signs of sickness.”

Mary wielded the eraser, then chalked different numbers on the slate she had bought that morning. A lock of hair fell onto her forehead. She brushed the hair back, held the slate up for the children to see and smiled encouragement. “Three plus three equals…”

Ben scowled.

Callie looked down, her lips moving silently as she pressed the tips of her small fingers one at a time on the table. Her right hand shot into the air. “I know, Miss Mary.”

Ben’s scowl deepened. “That’s ’ cause you cheated.”

“Did not!”

“Did to! Countin’ on your fingers is cheatin’. Ain’t it, Miss Mary?”

“
Is it not.
We do not say ‘ain’t,’ Ben.” Mary looked across the table at Ben and Callie and struggled to keep a smile from her face. It had been such a short time since she had rescued them, silent and afraid, from the streets, and already they acted like brother and sister. “And we do not argue, children. It is impolite and—”

She stopped. Listened—heard Edda going to answer the knock on the door—and returned to her work with the children. “Callie, I know it is easier to count on your fingers—” Her pulse stuttered. Was that Captain Benton’s voice? She chided herself for her foolishness and focused her thoughts back on the business at hand. “But it is better if you memorize the answers to—” She glanced up as the maid came to stand in the dining-room doorway. “Yes, Edda?”

“Captain Benton to see you, miss.”

Her foolish pulse stuttered again. Picked up speed. “Thank you, Edda.” She put down the slate, then ran her hands over her hair. “I will be right back, children. You think about the answer to the problem while I am gone.”

She hurried to the front door, paused to collect herself and then opened the door. Samuel Benton stood on the porch, his big hands resting on the shoulders of the small boy who stood in front of him. She swept her gaze from the boy’s frightened, grimy face, to his scratched and dirty hands, over his ripped overalls and shirt to his dirty feet. Another arrest. Her anger flared. She looked up at the captain.

He gave a slight nod. “Forgive my intrusion, Miss Randolph. I don’t mean to disturb you. But I think this boy may be ill.”

“Oh.” Concern overrode her anger. Mary leaned down and peered into the boy’s blue eyes. They were shimmering with unshed tears, but clear. She smiled. “I am going to feel your forehead for fever, young man. All right?” She stretched out her hand.

The boy jerked his head back and glared defiance at her. “I ain’t sick!”

The captain’s hands tightened on the boy’s scrawny shoulders. “Miss Randolph is only trying to help you. Let her feel your forehead, son.”

Son?
Mary shot her gaze to Samuel Benton’s face. He looked…different. She pulled her thoughts back to the boy, slipped her hand under the matted lock of hair hanging down over his grimy forehead. It felt normal. She saw no sign of illness. “Captain, I do not know why you believe—”

“I know my bringing the boy to you is an imposition, Miss Randolph. And I apologize for it.”

She glanced up, shocked by his interruption. She had never known the captain to be rude. Obstinate and heartless, but not rude.

“I had a meeting with the mayor this morning—about the possibility of an epidemic at the jail that would result in a quarantine.”

“A quarantine!” Mary shot up straight. Stared at him. “But that’s…that’s…”
Ingenious.
Why had she not thought to use that argument? And why was he telling her about his meeting? Did he think she cared if his jail were shut down? She would rejoice!

“Yes. A terrible possibility.” He shook his head. “As you can imagine, that would be an impossible situation for the city.” He stared straight down into her eyes.

Something in her stirred—went on alert. He was telling her this for a reason. “Yes. Impossible.” She struggled to follow. Where was this leading?

“Because of that possibility, the mayor decreed my men and I are
not
to arrest any children that may be sick. However, I am no judge of such things. So I brought the boy to you.”

“Oh.
Oh!
” Understanding flashed between them. A smile birthed in Mary’s heart, rose to her lips and eyes. She could have hugged the man! She leaned down and touched the boy’s forehead again. “I do not believe the boy has a fever, Captain Benton. But his eyes
are
unnaturally bright.” She straightened again, looked full into Samuel Benton’s eyes. “Perhaps it would be best if you leave him here with me—in case.” Something flickered in his eyes. Relief?

“Perhaps that would be best, Miss Randolph. With your permission I will take him inside.”

The boy leaned back, dug in his heels. “I ain’t goin’ in there!”

Samuel Benton turned the boy around, held his skinny upper arms and then squatted on his heels in front of him. “Listen to me, son. It is this, or jail. Do you want to be locked in a cell?”

Mary stared at the captain, at the look of concern and compassion on his face—the firm but gentle way he held the boy as he talked with him—and her heart got caught in her throat. What had happened to the cold, heartless policeman that did his job without regard to its consequences?

The captain looked up. Their gazes met. And held.

The boy stirred.

The captain cleared his throat and rose. “The boy is ready to go in now.”

Mary nodded and stepped aside—fought to regain her equilibrium as the captain herded the boy into the small entrance hall.

“The answer is six, Miss Mary. Three plus three is
six!
” Ben came running, slate in his hand, Callie on his heels. Both children came to a dead halt when they saw the captain…backed up a step…then another.

Mary stepped forward and placed her hand on the new boy’s thin, bony shoulder. His wiry body tensed at her touch. “Ben, would you and Callie please take this young man to the kitchen and ask Ivy to feed him? I will be along in a minute.”

Ben shot a wary glance at the captain, then nodded. “Sure, Miss Mary.” He motioned to the boy. “C’mon. Ivy’s making cookies.” He headed toward the kitchen. The boy stole a glance at the door, glanced up at the captain, then followed after Ben. Callie trailed off in their wake.

Silence fell.

Mary glanced at the captain. He was looking at her. She dropped her gaze and smoothed at her skirt feeling crowded and knowing it was foolish. How could a room get smaller? “Thank you for bringing the boy to me, Captain.” She made herself look at him and noticed he had removed his hat. “I will take good care of him.”

“I know that.” His voice was soft, low-pitched. His gaze held hers. “I’ve seen—Ben, is it?—carrying grocery baskets for the customers at Simpson’s store.” He shook his head. “Whoever would have thought such a thing would come about. I hardly recognized him, he looks so happy and well.”

“Ben is a very proud little boy and wanted to earn his keep. We let him think he is doing that.” She glanced toward the kitchen, then drew her gaze back to Samuel Benton. “It was James’s idea that he work for Mr. Simpson.” A smile played at her lips. “I thought it was poetic justice.”

He chuckled, and her stomach did that funny little flutter.

“It’s good for a boy to feel he’s helping out. From what I see, Ben looks pretty busy. Maybe this new boy can carry groceries at Simpson’s, too.”

So she was right. He had brought her the boy instead of arresting him. And he intended the boy would stay in her care. Happiness bubbled. She tamped it down. What had brought about this change in him? Was it real?

The captain slid his hat around in his hand, glancing around. “Where is Katy? Is she doing well?”

Mary nodded, as she brushed at her hair. “Katy is much better. But she still needs rest. She is upstairs napping.” She glanced up. He was staring at her again. She stiffened. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, reached toward her hair, then drew his hand back and made an awkward little gesture. “Chalk.”

Oh, no! Mary turned her hands palms up. The finger and thumb of her right hand were covered with the white powder.
That
would never happen to the elegant and beautiful Miss Stewart. But what did it matter? The captain was here on business. She brushed her hands together and forced a laugh. “We were having school.”

He nodded. “I saw the slate in Ben’s hand.” He took a step toward the door. “Well…I have to get back to my patrol. Thank you for taking the boy, Miss Randolph. Good afternoon.”

She pressed back against the wall to let him pass. “Good afternoon, Captain Benton.” She watched him tug his hat on and walk down the porch steps, then closed the door, squared her shoulders and headed for the kitchen ignoring the wobble in her legs. She had a young boy to take care of.

Now what did the mayor want? Why had he sent for him this time? What couldn’t wait until morning? Sam climbed the steps to the Stewarts’ porch, knocked on the door and stepped back as it opened.

“Captain Benton, how nice to see you again. It has been awhile.” Levinia stepped out onto the porch, dimpled up at him. “I have been waiting for you. I am afraid Father had to leave suddenly.”

“The mayor is gone?”

“Yes.” She pouted up at him. “Are you not going to greet me, Captain?”

“Yes, of course, Miss Stewart. Forgive my bad manners.” He made her a slight bow.

She smiled up at him. “You are forgiven.” She drifted toward the railing, glanced up at the sky. “What a lovely evening.”

Sam braced himself. He was beginning to recognize Levinia’s smiles. This one meant she was after something. No doubt another compliment. He was beginning to tire of the demand. The woman’s vanity was never sated. He searched around in his head and mustered something appropriate. “The beauty of the evening cannot compare to your loveliness, Miss Stewart.”

“You flatter me, Captain.” Another dimpled smile, followed by a pretty little pout. “But you seem…quiet. Father said you had a little disagreement this morning. Is it troubling you?”

Ah! So
that
was what she was after. The mayor had set Levinia to bring him to his knees. And arranged this meeting to bring that about, no doubt. Was the man inside waiting to hear if Levinia made him change his mind? “Disagreement?” Sam reached up and adjusted his hat to hide his irritation at being “handled.”