The Time-Traveling Outlaw (7 page)

Logan stood and walked toward Sheriff Hoskins, who waved him toward the office up the street.

“What are you going to do with him?” Sally said.

“Well, ma’am,” Sheriff Hoskins said. “The judge comes in on the train day after tomorrow. Reckon we’ll try him then.” He looked up at Sturgess. “In the meantime, I don’t want to see any of your boys sniffing around my jail.” He nodded at Winston. “And keep that one on a leash.”

Everything had gone to hell. 

Sturgess’s man had somehow snuck up from behind, getting the drop on them, and then he’d disarmed them both with whatever craziness he’d learned over in China. She wasn’t sure whether she was happy or not about Sheriff Hoskins stepping in when he did. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe the deadly little man Sturgess had called Winston would have killed Logan.

She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter now. Hoskins was behind Logan, walking him to the jail. She bent down to pick up her shotgun. 

“You best just leave that where it is,” Sturgess said. Winston had joined him on the porch of the brothel, and now both men looked down at her as she crouched over her gun.

Sally drew her hand back slowly. “We just came here to talk,” she said. 

“We only have one item on the agenda to discuss,” Sturgess said. “The price of your land. Your continued reluctance and outright aggression leaves me no choice but to continue to lower the offering price. I’ll give you six cents per acre.”

Sally snorted a bitter laugh. “Go to hell.” She stood up and took the reins of the horse she’d rode into town on.

“Leave the horses as well,” Sturgess said. “Those belonged to my men.”

Right, Sally thought. Everything either belongs or will belong to you, won’t it? Hot tears threatened to fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks, but she forced them back. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She turned to head for the sheriff’s office. She saw Sheriff Hoskins down the street, leading Logan up the office steps. 

She turned back around. “You know,” she said. “On the way here, Logan said something to me.”

“Oh?” Sturgess asked, mock curiosity on his face. “Do tell.”

“He said men like you always get your way. He said it’s no use standing up to you.”

“Sounds like a wise man,” Sturgess said. “Even if his actions demonstrate otherwise.”

“You’ve got your little stooge,” she said, nodding at Winston. “Along with everyone else you bought. But maybe they’ll come a time when you find out you can’t buy everybody. Maybe enough people in this town will finally have enough of you.”

Sturgess laughed wholeheartedly at that. “Yes, I’m sure that day will come,” he said. “The day when money is no good anymore. Thank you for the refreshing dose of comedy, dear girl. You have a good day now.” He turned and headed back into Abigail’s house. Winston stood for a few seconds longer, looking at her with those odd, beady eyes in a way that sent a little shiver down her spine. Then he followed his boss inside.

Sally sighed, but managed to hold back the tears. She turned back around once again and headed for the sheriff’s office.

Doctor Gleeson was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of his office, tamping a fresh wad of tobacco in his pipe.

“Good morning, Miss Macintosh,” he said.

She stopped and looked at him. He was old, though he still had a thick mane of gray hair and a bushy silver moustache to match. He sat in long sleeves and a tweed vest despite the heat and didn’t seem to mind. 

“Not especially,” she said. “You saw all that?”

“Everything,” he said. “And while I have to say I admire your temerity, I’m not quite sure I know what you meant to accomplish.”

“I guess that makes two of us,” she said. 

“A word of advice,” Dr. Gleeson went on. “Don’t try to take on a man like Camden Sturgess. But if you do, make sure next time you have a plan. He certainly will.”

“Thanks,” she said, turning to head up the road again.

“Oh,” he said, pointing his pipe at her. “One more thing. What you said about the people in this town…it may be truer than you think.”

Sally stopped again and gave him a long look as he tucked the pipe up under his moustache and lit it with a long match. She’d never really known Emile Gleeson all that well. She knew he was a good doctor, and that he liked to talk fancy. Word around Lockdale was that he’d studied over in Europe for a time, even fought in a war over there. He looked out at her serenely from under his bushy eyebrows, but she couldn’t make out exactly what his expression communicated, but she wasn’t quite interested in talking to him anymore.

So she headed back up the street, making it to the steps of the sheriff’s office just as Sheriff Hoskins was stepping back out.

“Sheriff, this ain’t right,” Sally said. “You need to let that man go.”

“Now Sally,” he said. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Like you did when they killed my husband?”

Hoskins sighed, a sadness crossing his face. He lowered his voice. “You know I’m sorry about that,” he said. “But there were no witnesses and no evidence. As far as the law is concerned, my hands are tied.”

“Well as far as I can tell, Camden Sturgess is the law around here,” Sally said. “That man in there is the only person around here with the guts to stand up for what’s right, and something tells me you mean to hang him.”

“What I mean to do is make sure he gets a fair trial.”

Sally shook her head. “Not likely,” she said.

“You best just head on home now,” Hoskins said.

Now she did start crying. She couldn’t help it, though she hated herself for it. “I ain’t got a horse nor wagon.”

Sheriff Hoskins sighed again. “All right, then,” he said. “I’ll get Tommy to take you home.” He took a white handkerchief from his shirt pocket, walked down the steps, and handed it to Sally. She took it and blowed her nose. 

“Deputy Tanner!” Hoskins yelled toward the office door. Within a few seconds, a gangly young redhead opened the door. His clothes looked too big for his body. The gun slung on his hip looked obscenely out of place. 

“Sheriff?” Deputy Tanner said, his voice soft and high.

“Go on to the stables and get the wagon,” Hoskins said. “And give Miss Macintosh here a ride back to her ranch.”

Tanner looked from his boss to Sally, his mouth open. 

“Did you understand what I said?” Hoskins asked.

“Oh,” Tanner said. “Yessir.” He trotted down the steps, looking to Sally like a puppet being jerked along on strings. He made for the stables.

“Can I see him?” Sally said to the sheriff. “Once more before I go?”

Hoskins took his hat off and rubbed his forehead. “No, ma’am,” he said. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

She nodded, tears and the anger both welling back up. She blew her nose into the handkerchief one last time, then offered it back to Sheriff Hoskins.

“Uh,” he said, “you go on and keep that.”

Deputy Tanner rode up on the wagon, pulled by two horses. The sheriff stepped forward and held out his hand to help Sally up, but she ignored the gesture, grabbing onto the seat and hauling herself up.

Sheriff Hoskins took a step back as Sally settled into the seat beside Tanner. “I’m sorry about the way things turned out, Sally,” he said. “I truly am.”

“Not as sorry as me, Willard,” she said. “Thank you for the ride, and the handkerchief.”

He tipped his hat as Tommy whipped the reins, jolting the wagon forward.

The ride back home was long and somber. Sally tried a couple of times to engage the deputy in conversation, but he didn’t seem to have much to say.

“How long have you been a deputy,” she asked him as they made it just out of town. 

He looked up and the sky, thinking for a minute. “Um, three weeks, ma’am,” he finally said.

“Why did you want to be a deputy?”

Again, a long pause. “Well,” he said. “I got four brothers and three sisters, and my pa says I ain’t worth a lick on the farm. So he told me one day to go into town and get a job. Sheriff Hoskins needed a new deputy, so there you go.”

“There you go,” Sally said. She didn't think he was too bright, but overall he seemed like a decent enough fellow. She sat the rest of the way in silence, thinking about Logan. He’d just come into her life, and now, just like that, he was likely to be taken away. Tears threatened once again, but she fought them back.

At the turn-off to her ranch, she turned to Tanner again. “Tommy?” she asked.

“Ma’am?” He shifted in his seat. He had been enjoying the quiet ride, and she could tell he didn’t like conversing too much, but she pressed on.

“Would you ever go against the Sheriff?”

He got a confused look on his face. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, ma’am.”

“Well, what if Sheriff Hoskins told you to do something that you knew was wrong?”

Tommy seemed to relax at that. “Aw, I don’t think that would ever happen,” he said. “I do everything the sheriff tells me. He’s a good man.”

“Right,” Sally said. “But what if he said to do something that you knew deep down in your heart was bad? What if he told you to do something bad to your own family?”

Tommy seemed horrified and insulted by the idea. “But he wouldn’t do that,” he said, raising his voice. 

“Okay,” Sally said. “Okay.” She wasn’t going to be able to count on Deputy Tanner if bad turned to worst. 

When they reached the house and barn, Tommy started to climb out of his seat. She put a hand on his arm. 

“It’s okay, deputy,” she said. “I can manage.” She climbed down. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

He gave her a genuine smiled. “Aw, you didn’t upset me, Miss Macintosh,” he said. 

“Good,” she said. “Thank you for the ride.”

He tipped his hat and turned the wagon around. She turned to look at what she had, which was no more than she’d had two days ago. But all of a sudden it felt like less, a lot less. 

She had told Logan he was wrong about Sturgess, that standing up was the right thing to do. And now he was in jail, a place that according to him he’d been before. But now he was likely to never get out, and she felt responsible. 

She felt like just sitting down on the ground right there and not getting up again. That would be the easy thing to do. But there were chores to be done, plenty of them. The chickens needed feeding. The horses needed tending. And why should she neglect her duties? Because she was feeling sorry for herself? 

Things looked grim, that was certain. But her mother had gone through hard times, and she’d always taken care of their home without so much as a word of complaint.

Sally took a deep breath and headed toward the barn.

She worked through the rest of that hot afternoon and into the evening, pushing herself as hard as she could, trying to drive the thoughts out of her head. She didn’t manage to do that completely, but she was able to wear herself out well enough that she thought she might actually get some sleep.

Her last chore of the day was to haul water from the well, heating some on the wood stove, and pouring herself a hot bath. As she soaked the soreness out of her muscles, sitting in the tub with the light of only two candles burning, she thought of Logan.

She wished they hadn’t gone into town this morning. But if they hadn’t, eventually Sturgess and his goons would have come to then, and the outcome likely would have been the same.

What was it Doctor Gleeson had said to her? Whenever you decide to confront a man like Sturgess, you’d better have a plan. But she was just a farm girl. What did she know of strategies and plans? Besides, the one man who could help her was tucked away in a jail cell in town.

Sally tucked her knees up against herself and hugged as tight as she could.

That night she crawled into bed and blew out the bedside candle, thinking of him as the smell of the smoke faded away. 

Sally was awoken the next morning, not by the crow of Hancock, the rooster, nor the early morning sun. Someone was banging on her front door.

She sat up straight in bed, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The shotgun was gone. They still had a hunting rifle, but it was in the other room. She could—

“Sally!” the muffled voice came through the door. It was Sheriff Hoskins. She relaxed a bit, but still wondered what he might be doing here. The sun had barely begun to poke up over the horizon. It was still mostly dark.

“Coming!” she yelled, pulling on a robe and her boots.

“Sally, you need to open this door right n—”

She swung the door open. The sheriff stood there, a grim look on his face. On either side of him stood two men. On his right was Deputy Tanner, his brow furrowed in anxious anticipation. On the left was George Simmers, a man she barely knew who worked down at the tin mine. Each man was wearing a gun.

She saw movement over Hoskins’ shoulder and saw two men working her barn door open.

“Hey!” she yelled at them. Then at the sheriff: “Just what’s going on here?”

“Save us some time, Sally,” he said in a soft voice. “Just tell us where he is.”

She rubbed her eyes and tried to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She was usually an early riser, but she had slept hard last night and they had caught her completely off-guard.

“What are you talking about, Willard?” she said.

He sighed heavily, then firmly took her by the shoulders and pushed her aside.

“Hey!” she cried out again, but the sheriff ignored her. He and his deputies, one apparently deputized just for the occasion, made their way past her and into her house.

“George, go check in that back room,” Hoskins said. “Tommy, you just look in here for the moment.”

“What are you—” then Sally stopped herself, realizing. She hadn’t had her cup of coffee yet, so it had taken her longer than it should have. Logan. They were looking for him. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He escaped?”

The sheriff stepped close to her. “Look, Sally. This’ll go better for everybody if you just tell us where he is.”

She smiled to herself, then looked up at the sheriff. “You know I wouldn’t tell you if I knew,” she said. “But honest-to-God, I don’t.” She knew they wouldn’t believe her, so why not just let them look?