The Hope of Azure Springs Page 2

  “Even if there’s no trail of blood, there aren’t many towns around. If someone wants to find you, they will. It’d be best for all of us to be cautious. We don’t know what lengths they’ll go to in order to find you. I don’t want you leaving this house, not yet anyway. Not until those men are behind bars. I’ll enlist some men to help me keep a watch around this home, and we’ll spread the word to others to be careful.”

  Abigail jumped into the conversation again. “In another day or two we’ll give her a real bath. I’ll find her some of Eliza’s clothes to wear. A little freshening up will change her appearance. I’m certain that will help. Already she’s improving.”

  Caleb took in Em’s disheveled and ragged appearance—her hair caked with dirt and oil, a layer of filth covering her skin. Never had he seen a face so thin. The bones in her cheeks looked harsh and sharp, the skin pulled tight around them. No man would look twice at her for her beauty. But if a man were looking for the plainest, thinnest waif of a girl, she would not be hard to pick from a crowd.

  “A good bath and clean clothes couldn’t hurt, but it still won’t be hard to track her down. Half the town saw her come in on the back of that wagon. All those men would have to do is ask a few questions around Main Street and she’d be found. I’ll spread word to everyone I see, but it’s best if she stays put, away from people. Guarding one house will be easier than watching the whole of Azure Springs. I’ll get to the bottom of this and then she’ll be free to go.”

  Turning his attention from Abigail and back to Em, he said, “I know you can’t talk long today, but can you give me descriptions of the men and tell me where your place is?”

  Em’s eyes were looking weary, but she nodded. In a tired voice, she gave him details. Specifics most people would overlook came pouring out of her. He wished everyone he interviewed remembered the little things the way she did.

  “One man had a scar running along his left cheek,” she said. “It was red, like it was new. Another had red hair, deep red, and he was missing a front tooth. The third man had fair hair and bushy eyebrows. He didn’t talk much—just followed orders.”

  The images of all three of the men came alive, the details vivid, as Caleb scrambled to keep up with her, frantically writing notes.

  “I don’t know where I am now, but I know George’s place is next to Hollow Creek, about a mile south of where it meets the Eagle River. It’s tucked in the back of a little clearing. It’s not much to look at, but I think you’ll be able to find it.”

  Clutching his notes, he stood. “Thank you, Em. I’ll let you rest now. I’ll be back soon to talk. Please think hard about what these men could have been after.”

  He made his way through the house and was reaching for the handle of the front door when Abigail said, “Sheriff?”

  Caleb turned around to see her standing in the front room. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I’ve heard of a man living back along that creek. I remember the preacher saying he’d tried visiting before, but the man had sent him away without letting him in. And I think the Walkers have mentioned a strange man back there. They live out that way. It’s pretty secluded, but you know Ruth Walker, she likes knowing what’s going on. But I’ve never heard of a girl back there, not from Ruth or the preacher or anyone. And this man, George, no one really knows him.” Creased worry lines formed on Abigail’s face.

  Caleb wished he could ease her mind somehow. “I’ve never heard of anyone living on Hollow Creek. I try to know everyone, but I’ve never heard a single mention of George. I’ll head out there as soon as I can. I don’t know how the pieces will come together, but they always do. Let me know if she tells you anything else.”

  “I will.” Abigail took a few steps toward Em’s room before turning back. “I hardly know the girl. It’s strange, but already I care for her. Please stop these men. I want Em to be safe. I know she’s frightened. She hasn’t said she is, but I can sense an uneasiness. You have to stop these men. She deserves a chance.” With that she stepped back into the sickroom.

  Caleb put his hat on and left. James, the town’s land agent, would have a detailed map of the area and any land deeds. With his long arms swinging at his sides, Caleb made his way toward the land office, his mind working like the gears in a clock. Who was George and what kind of arrangement did the girl have with him? The few ideas he conjured up sickened him. He hoped for a simple, untainted explanation.

  Em was plain looking, with her stringy, straw-colored hair, freckled nose, and thin frame—no denying that. But she was quick and alert. The details she’d provided told him she had a keen mind. What’s her story? Who would shoot a girl like that? What reason could they have? Lost in thought, he was startled to hear his own name.

  “Sheriff Reynolds. Pleasure running into you.” Eliza Howell approached from the side. He stopped. Skirts swaying, she moved closer until she stood very near, smiling up at him through long lashes. He found himself staring at her perfectly rosy cheeks. He couldn’t help admiring her curled blond hair with just a hint of red. The land office did not seem so urgent now.

  Caleb stepped out of the way as several men passed by. He watched as the men’s eyes drifted to Eliza and lingered on her. Everything about Eliza turned heads, including his.

  “Miss Eliza. What has you out and about in Azure Springs?” Caleb asked the local beauty.

  “I walked in to meet Olivia. She wanted to visit Miss Caroline because she was expecting a new order of lace today. Olivia’s still looking. I think she might stay all day trying to decide which she likes best. I saw you passing by and thought a quick hello would break up the monotony of my day. Besides, Miss Caroline has already talked my ear off long enough about Mr. Norbert. Poor old maid, someday she’ll realize no one is interested in a spinster.” Eliza reached up and brushed at the shoulder of his jacket. “Seems you picked up some dust from these dry roads.”

  He offered his arm and walked her along the street toward the dress shop. “I’m glad you stopped me,” he said. “I was just over at your place. I met Em. It’s a puzzling case.” He felt the pull of his conscience at the mention of Em. “I won’t be able to visit long. I need to do some digging around and see what I can learn about her.”

  “That horrible, dirty girl is in my bed and I’m upstairs with Mae and Millicent. Have you ever seen a dirtier creature in all your life? It’s rather disgusting.” She scrunched up her nose. “I’ll have to boil the entire bed to get the smell out. Even then I’m afraid I’ll catch something she left in it. Let’s talk of other things. I’m so tired of everyone talking about Em and worrying over her.”

  Caleb stared a moment, surprised such ugly words could come from someone so beautiful. Odds were she hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. “She was a sight. I don’t think she’s had enough to eat in a long time. Gets me wondering what kind of life she was leading.” Drawn back into his reverie, he wiped his brow absently and looked off into the distance. “Whatever her story is, it’s my duty to help her. If I don’t, those men could hurt others. You, even.”

  “We all rest easier knowing you’re the sheriff. Always our valiant man in arms.” Eliza’s voice was playful, but he liked the image she painted of him. He’d been too young to fight in the war. Sheriff was the closest he could come to being a hero.

  “I know you’ll take care of us all.” She squeezed his arm a little tighter.

  Olivia stepped out of the shop just as they approached. Olivia Bingham was eighteen, a year younger than Eliza. She was dark haired and fair skinned. The two were often together. Everywhere they went the pair drew attention. More men talked about these two than any other females in the county.

  “So nice to see you, Sheriff,” Olivia said when they approached. “About time you took Eliza for a stroll. I was beginning to think you’d never ask her. Don’t stop on my account. I can turn right around and buy more lace. The shipment today is better than any other. I plan to have a new frock made just so I can trim it with ivory lace.”


  Caleb dragged his foot around in the dry dirt. “A stroll would be pleasant. To be honest, it sounds much more appealing than the day I have waiting for me. I can’t stay though. I have to see James over at the land office. But I’ll look forward to seeing your new frock. I’ll let you two go and pick out lace.” Caleb reluctantly unwound Eliza’s arm from his own, then turned and stepped away. “Good day, ladies.”

  Smiling back at the pair of them, he forced his legs into motion and headed south. A few steps later he allowed himself one more backward glance. The women had linked arms and were whispering together, smiles lighting their faces, both carefree and radiant. Spending the afternoon with them would have been enjoyable. But he had a job to fulfill, and now was as good a time as any. Being a sheriff was an honor and a responsibility he took seriously. Still, there were days he wanted to walk away from the demands. Lead the quiet life he’d once dreamed of.

  Caleb put all thoughts of Eliza from his mind as he walked to the land office. Once there, he pushed open the heavy wooden door and looked around for James. Cigar smoke filled the air, mixing with the smell of musty paper, the same smell that always greeted Caleb when he stopped by. At the sound of the door, James stood, put his half-smoked cigar down, and walked over.

  “Sheriff Reynolds, what brings you here?” James’s voice was big and hoarse, as always, and he sounded as if he had something trapped in his throat. “Can I get you something?”

  “I need you to help me dig up a claim. I want to see who owns a stretch of land.” Caleb fumbled through papers in the top drawer of an old desk. He pulled out several maps before finding the one he was looking for.

  “Hollow Creek area?” James asked after giving the map only a glance.

  Caleb nodded but didn’t look up. At last he pointed to the section he was sure was George’s land. “This bit here. I don’t know how big the claim is, but this is it. Can you tell me who owns it?”

  “It’ll take me some time. I don’t recall anyone buying up any land there for years, but I can find out for you. I’ve got the records around here somewhere. When do you need them by?” James was already shuffling through papers, his head bent low, eyes racing across faded lines of scrawled handwriting.

  Caleb wondered how he knew where anything was. There seemed to be no system, no organization. “The quicker the better. I’m going to ride out there as soon as I can. I’d go today if I could, but it’s too late. Tomorrow I have to take the Strafford boy in to the county judge. There and back will take me the whole day. I’d have someone else take him, but there’s no one.”

  Caleb scratched at his collar. “I’ll probably head out the next day before dawn. Do you think you could have it for me by then?” He knew James would find it by then, probably much sooner. Whenever he asked a favor of him, he managed to find a way to help.

  “I’ll have it before you head out. Come by tomorrow when you get back in town.” James bent over and fought the frog that seemed to live in his throat. When it was finally suppressed, he asked, “Is this about that girl? The one they brought in half dead a couple days back?”

  “Yeah. Not sure what the story is yet, but it might end up being a big one.” Caleb walked back toward the door. “Thank you, James. I’ll come by tomorrow evening and see what you’ve found.”

  Caleb opened the door and stepped outside, away from the stench of the stale cigar smoke. He felt grateful for his position and his shiny star. People were eager to help, and depending on how the next couple of days went, he might need that help. Already his gut was telling him this was no usual crime.

  Two

  Em, you look so improved. You have some color in your cheeks again. I’ve been meaning to stop in and visit with you, but I didn’t want to disturb you.” Eliza seated herself next to Em’s bed. “Are you feeling well enough to move upstairs? There is a lovely room up there. It would be perfect for you.” She spoke quickly. “You’ll just love it, I know you will. Mae and Millicent are so sweet. They would just be delighted with your company.” Her eyes darted toward the door. The two were alone for the first time, at least that Em had been conscious for.

  Studying Eliza, Em wondered if the two would become friends. Could they become friends? It seemed unlikely. Girls like Eliza had never cared much for Em. But what did she know? She had little experience with peers. “Is this your room? I didn’t realize—”

  “It is, and I haven’t minded you being here. Honest, I haven’t. But the bed upstairs is terribly uncomfortable on my back. It really would be much better for me if I could have my own bed again. When you’re ready, of course.” Eliza smiled prettily at her, her right hand rubbing her back.

  Em doubted Eliza’s back could hurt nearly as badly as the tender gunshot wound she was struggling to recover from, but living off charity kept her from saying so. “I’ll gladly sleep upstairs. I think I could manage the stairs even now. I feel up to it.”

  “Oh, thank you. You’re a gem.” Eliza squeezed her arm. “I’m certain you’ll like it. The girls are so energetic. They’ll be great company. When my mother returns, be sure to tell her that you really want to be up there.”

  Em fought the chuckle that tried to escape. “I’ll let her know that I’ll enjoy the girls’ company,” she said. She had shared a room with a little girl before—with Lucy. The thought of that sweet girl brought a new ache, different from the gunshot wound but just as real and just as tender.

  That afternoon when Abigail came to Em’s room to sit with her, one of the little girls peeked her head into the room and waved. Em waved back, motioning for her to come in. The little girl tiptoed into the room.

  “Mae, you can’t come in. You know Em must rest,” Abigail said from her seat beside the bed.

  Mae took a swift step toward the door.

  Em jumped to her rescue. “If it’s all right with you,” she said, addressing Abigail, “I’d enjoy her company.”

  Abigail looked at the girl and then back at Em. “If you’re certain.”

  “I am.” As soon as the words were out, Abigail gave a nod in Mae’s direction. The child looked more carefree now as she approached. Her brown curls bounced with each step. Mae put a hand on top of Em’s and smiled.

  “I’m Mae,” she said.

  “Hello, Mae. Thank you for visiting me. It’s been much too quiet for me in here.” Returning her gaze to Abigail, she said, “In fact, I was hoping once I was cleaned up I could move out of this room and bunk somewhere else. I feel awful having this big room all to myself. Perhaps I could move in with the girls. If that’s all right with you.”

  “Did Eliza put you up to this? Of course she did, that girl.” Abigail pursed her lips. “You don’t have to move though. This room is so quiet and there are no stairs.”

  “I’d love to be with the girls. It’s been far too long since I’ve spent time with little ones. I’d enjoy it very much. In fact, I think I would be happier there.”

  “Eliza is used to having her own space, so she’s not much fun for the girls. If you think you would be happy there, then I’ll ready the room for you. But only if you’re certain.” Em bobbed her head, prompting Abigail to continue. “The stairs are not steep, but you must promise to have assistance. I would feel just terrible if you took a fall.” She rose from her seat. “First, I’ll go and heat water for a bath. I think a good scrub in the tub will be excellent medicine. I dare say you don’t need any—you look better each time I enter this room. But a bath is soothing, and according to the doctor it couldn’t hurt as long as we are mindful of your injury.”

  A tingling sensation began near Em’s eyes. Rubbing at them with the back of her hands, she tried to fight off the feeling. But tears of joy threatened to creep from their edges. She’d not taken a bath, with warm water, since—she couldn’t remember when. George didn’t have a tub. A sponge bath or dip in the cold creek were her choices. No matter how nice it sounded, it wasn’t worth crying over, so she held the tears back. Seven years ago she had cried her last tears. Seven y
ears. Seven long years. There would be no crying today.

  Instead, she turned toward little Mae. “Miss Mae, it seems you and I are going to be bunking together.”

  “Did you share at the last place you lived?”

  “I did, but I shared a barn with a few smelly animals! Sharing a room with you and Millicent will be much more fun.”

  “Maybe the barn was better. I bet sleeping with animals would be fun. I love our horse, Nelly. I’ll have to ask Papa if I can spend a night near her.” Mae’s eyes were large and spirited. “Besides, sometimes Millicent talks when she’s supposed to be sleeping. And once, not long ago, she had a dream she was using the privy and we had to air out our mattress the next morning. But that won’t be so bad for you, since you’ll have a bed to yourself.” Mae’s voice was clear and easy to understand. She had the slightest touch of a lisp, just enough to remind those around her that she was still a child.

  “Sounds like your room is full of adventure. It’s a bit too quiet in this room for me. I think I shall prefer the upstairs bedroom.”

  “I’m going to go tell Milly that you and Eliza are switching spots. She’ll be so glad. I know she will. Eliza isn’t any fun. She just tells us to be quiet and not touch her things. You’ll be much nicer, I can tell.” With that she pranced out of the room.

  The warm, fragrant water was just as nice as Em had anticipated. Abigail let her soak and encouraged her to stay in as long as she liked. Twice Abigail brought buckets of warm water and added them to the tub. The soap smelled sweet, like flowers and well-dressed women. Very unlike the harsh lye soap she’d used before, though she’d been grateful for that since so often there’d been no soap at all.

  She scrubbed and soaked and scrubbed some more, always being mindful of her tender wound site. She washed around the bandage, doing her best to protect it and keep it clean. When she finally stood, she held her hands palms up. The skin resembled sunbaked fruit—wrinkled but fresh. Staring at her arms, she could see freckles she’d forgotten existed. With the dirt gone, they boldly proclaimed themselves once more. The water was murky and a film of oil and grime coated the edge of the tub. Yes, Abigail was right—she had needed a good soak. It was astonishing how dirty she’d become. Never would she let herself get so filthy again, not if there was any other way.