Page 27 of The Marshal's Bride
Justine took a deep breath and gave June a hug before she headed down the hallway to the cells in the back. It was time to have a long overdue conversation with the woman who had been her second mother for years.
“What do you want?” Marjorie glared at her from the cot in her cell.
Justine dragged a wooden chair across the floor and placed it in front of the bars. She settled down and got right to business. “Where were these men supposed to meet you?”
“What men? Have you lost something, Justine?” Her mouth pulled into a sour grin.
“Coy isn’t a good look for you, Marjorie. I understand that you want to punish me, but that is your granddaughter. She’s a part of Jacob. She’s out there, she’s frightened, and I want to know where she is.”
“Do not speak his name to me!” Marjorie hissed. Justine leaned back in the chair as she watched her former mother-in-law’s eyes go large and become void of color. “You are the reason that I have lost my son. You took him away from me!”
Justine could see that grief and anger had aged the other woman as deep lines framed her face, and her eyes reflected the darkness that had shrouded her.
“You are not the only one that lost Jacob!” Justine cried, leaning forward once more. “I have listened to you for months put this blame on me, and I cannot do it anymore. Your son was a husband and a father. He chose to go out that day because he could no longer deal with the crying in the house. He is the one that died and left us all because he put no one else’s wants or needs ahead of his own.”
“Stop it! He was a good boy!” Marjorie threw herself against the bars shrieking and thrashing.
“Hope is a little girl. She’s a good girl. She does not deserve to be punished because he left you! Even if she had not been ill, he wouldn’t have let me go with him.” Sobs tore at Justine’s throat, the truth revealing itself to her for the first time. “He did what he wanted. What I might have wanted made no difference to him once he set his mind on things. Now where is she?”
“Sam, hold up,” Ranger called out as they approached the stagecoach bridge. The urge to ignore him was strong, but Sam slowed his horse. “We need more bodies, and we need you to remain calm.”
Sam shook his head and released a deep breath. He knew that Ranger was right. The cowboy grew up in this area and was more familiar with the surroundings.
“What’s up?”
Ranger pointed to the ground. “These tracks here are fresh. They crossed the bridge, which takes them through or around the Hartman ranch. Can you do that whistle thing Whit does?”
“The one that could break an eardrum?” He raised a brow, and Ranger nodded. “Yeah, I can do it.”
“Get to the edge of the property and let it go. Anyone within earshot will come running.”
“Won’t gunshots do the same?”
“You don’t want them to know how close behind we are. I can go straight onto Chapman land and cross the river to meet you. No firing until we need to.”
“I hear you.”
Hoofbeats smacked the ground behind them. Someone was coming up behind them, and fast.
Ranger twisted in his saddle, looking backwards. “Whit will be here in a minute. Go! He’ll take the bank, and you go up around.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one giving orders?” A laugh burst out of him at the ridiculousness of it.
“When June and I lose a child, I’ll let you give the orders, but for now, you let me plan, and let’s go get your little girl back.” Ranger dug his heels into his horse’s sides and headed toward the Chapman’s side of the property.
Sam tugged his horse’s reins and galloped across the bridge. “Papa’s coming, Hope,” he whispered. Urging the animal faster, he knew Ranger was right and thanked the Lord for the faithful friends he’d found in Flat River.
Two short whistles chirped behind him, and Sam let loose three of his own. Ranger was right. Whit would head along the bank and south side of his family's land while he took the top side. Confidence steadied his hands on the reins, and he sat up straighter in the saddle. It was time to get his little girl and take her home to her mama.
Marriage in name only, only worked if there wasn’t love, and Sam was acutely aware of the love that flowed freely through him for these two ladies.
The fence line came into view, and he let out the shrill whistle that Whit had made sure he learned the first week he’d arrived. By the time he’d reached the fence, he saw about six riders galloping towards him. The only one Sam recognized was a woman who was Ranger’s cousin. He met her when his entire family came to church one day to meet June.
“Sam Davis,” Sam introduced himself. “I don’t have time for introductions. Whit has gone that way and I’m headed this way. A wagon came either by or through here. It was driven by at least two men. They’ve taken Hope McGuthry, and I need you to help me find her. She’s two, blondish red hair, and she-” Tightness in his throat cut off his words for a moment, “she quacks.”
“Like a duck?” one of the men asked.
“Yeah. She’s mostly nonverbal, but she does quack like a duck.”
