Liberty Belle (35 page)

Toward safety.

Toward Wade.

Chapter 35

The night sky paled, signaling a new day. Excitement, responsibility, and maybe a small dose of fear jarred Wade out of his bedroll. Too much to do to let a moment slide by. Dressed and washed, he searched through the barn for Tobias, hoping the man hadn’t drank himself into a stupor.

Loud snores led him to the lump of worn humanity hugging the corner of one of the stalls. Wade grimaced. He didn’t know a soul with a kinder heart, but the bottle had stolen the life from the little man. Most people wouldn’t even look at him. Others only long enough to kick him.

Wade bent and gently shoved Tobias’ shoulder. “Wake up.”

Groans answered.

“Tobias?

After sitting and wiping his mouth, the worn man squinted at him. “What?”

“I’m getting married this weekend, and I need you to get Mark for me.”

“Married?”

“To Libby.”

A wide grin split his wrinkled face. “I’ll be. She’s a prize. A good woman.” He stood, swayed, and grasped Wade’s arm. “I’d be happy to fetch the boy for ya’. Let me know where he is, and I’ll light out right away.”

“Thanks.” Wade tossed him a coin. “Buy yourself some breakfast first. Here’s the map. The wedding is for Saturday, so try to be back by then.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Wade.” Stuffing the paper in his pocket, Tobias shuffled out of the barn.

Wade whistled and grinned when Fuego answered with a nicker. “We got a lot to do, boy.”

Within minutes, he had the stallion saddled.

Mr. Sweeny called out from the corral. “This early in the morning, you must have mighty important business to attend to?”

Wade regretted having to ask the livery owner for more time off. Even as deputy, he’d need the extra money he earned training horses. He took off his hat, and nodded.

“Sorry, Mr. Sweeny. I should’ve talked to you first. Libby agreed to be my wife, and I’ve got to find a place for us to live. I’ll try to work on the roan—”

“Married! Well congratulations. Don’t you worry about the stables, we’ll get along fine.”

“Thanks. The wedding is Saturday. Still have to hire a preacher.” Wade mounted his horse.

Mr. Sweeny held Fuego’s bridle. “I’m leaving in a minute. Taking the big bay to Johnson’s ranch. Should be back later today.” He patted the stallion’s neck. “I’m happy for you Wade. She’s a fine woman.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Wade nudged the stallion to the road. His heart swelled. Libby made quite an impression on his friends. He knew only too well why.

###

Libby galloped the horse as hard as she dared over the rough road.
Wade, would he be at the livery or the jail?
She wiped a hand across her face and cringed at the smell of gun powder. Afraid to see the sheriff, she skirted past the street to the lawman’s office and headed for the stables.

“Please be there.” Confusion caused her to take a couple of wrong side streets, but finally, she turned into Sweeny’s livery and rode to the barn.

“Wade! ... Mr. Sweeny! ... Tobias! ...”

No answer.

Near tears, she closed her eyes to shut out the images of Rowen yelling, grabbing the knife, and lunging at her. The echo of the pistol firing still rang in her head. A spot of red on her blouse caught her eye.
Blood?
Fear clawed at her.

The spirited horse pawed the ground as if a reminder to find help.

Had anyone she passed on the road noticed? Clutching the crimson stain, she yanked the reins and headed the horse to Flora’s. Her aunt would know what to do.

The sun, wide awake now, bathed the mountains in gold, but the strong light made her feel conspicuous. She imagined that everyone she passed on the street knew what she’d done. Their accusing glares triggered an onslaught of guilt and panic. Concern for the winded horse forced Libby to slow the mare to a walk.

Her own heart beat so loud, she wondered if others could hear? What if she’d killed Rowen? Hoping to avoid attention, she patted the animal’s sleek neck and groaned at the streaks of lather.

An old miner riding a lop-eared mule rode toward her. “What ya punishin’ that horse fer?” He grinned a toothless smile and pointed at her. “Devil gotcha on the run?” He guffawed and swayed in his saddle.

She kicked the sides of the mare and trotted past the man. How could he know? She clutched her blouse to hide the red splotch.

What have I done? Where are you, God?

Her hands trembled.

Why did Rowen try to hurt her? Why did she have to take Flora’s gun with her? Dark clouds of despair descended over her. The joy of her wedding evaporated. Would Wade turn from her?

Libby focused on the mare’s ears. She dared not look anyone in the eye. None too soon, she turned the corner to The Yellow Slipper. A couple of men looked her over, the wolfish grins evidence they didn’t know she’d shot, maybe killed, her boss. She tied the horse to the rail and bolted up the stairs.

Gasping she reached the top. Flora had to be there. Had to. She struggled to catch her breath and knocked. After what seemed like hours and her knuckles sore, the door swung open. “Libby, what are—?”

Not waiting, she charged into the room. “Flora, I need your help. It’s awful. I, I—” Sobs ended her words.

“Oh dear.” Flora wrapped her in a hug and drew her close.

The door shut, and Daisy came near and rubbed her shoulder.

“Let’s sit.” Flora guided her to the small table and into one of the chairs.

Libby cried into her hands. Too scared to say what she’d done, too ashamed to think she’d shot a man, too overcome with sorrow at her destroyed future.

Flora entwined a hanky in her fingers. “What is wrong?”

A shuddering sob stole her answer. Finally, Libby raised her head and stared into her aunt’s eyes. “I shot Mr. Rowen.”

Grasping her chest, Flora’s mouth opened and closed several times. Finally she sat into the chair next to her. “You shot him?”

Libby bent forward as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Just a flicker, but she’d seen the revulsion on her aunt’s face. Driven by a need to explain, she reached out to Flora. “I didn’t mean to, but he came at me with a knife.”

Flora pointed at the red spot on her blouse. “Are you hurt? Oh, you poor dear.”

Libby shook her head. “I’m so afraid. What if I killed Mr. Rowen.”

“There, there. We’ll see this through together.” Wrinkles creased her brow. “We must trust in The Lord.”

Soothed by her aunt’s words, Libby nodded.

Flora turned to Daisy. “Get Harley. And hurry.”

The girl hesitated. “Won’t he be asleep?”

After pushing her glasses up, Flora sighed. “Tell him we need him. Now!”

Without another word, Daisy sprinted into the hall.

The tiny amount of relief Libby had felt, fled at the urgency in Flora’s words.

###

Wade reined Fuego to the jail and cringed. First day on the job, and he was asking for time off. Taking in a deep breath, he sent a silent prayer and dismounted. He let the horse drink from the water trough and looped the reins over the post. He paused, gathered his wits, and opened the door.

The sheriff glanced up from his desk. “That’s what I like, a man up early and at ’em.”

“Well, I’m up but after something different than you have in mind.”

Bill frowned. “You change your mind about being deputy?”

“No.” Wade slipped into the chair in front of the sheriff’s desk. “Truth is, I asked my girl to marry me.”

The sheriff scooted back his chair, sifted through a drawer, and pulled a fistful of wanted posters from a file. “By that grin, I’d say, she said yes. She change your mind?”

“No. But I need time to marry her, Saturday in fact. I was wondering if you knew of any cabins for rent.”

Bill stood to his full but short height. “We do need to hunt the gang.” He scratched his head. “But you did say you thought you knew where to find ’em. Might be a good idea to let ’em think they got away. Give my leg a chance to rest. Tell you what, you take the next few days and marry your girl before she changes her mind.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“Calder, I might know of a little place.” Although he smiled, sorrow shadowed the sheriff’s eyes. “I have a cabin outside of town.” The man turned, limped to the wall, and took down his gun belt. “Used to be where my wife and I lived. She died a few months ago. I stay here in the back room. I think my Laura would be pleased to help. You and your missus can stay as long as you need.”

Wade could only grin as the lump in his throat prevented any words from getting through.

The sheriff chuckled. “Go ahead. I reckon you got lots to do.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Whoa, almost forgot.” The sheriff rummaged inside the top drawer of his desk, pulled out a badge, and threw it to him. “Pin that on your shirt.”

Wade caught the piece of tin and pinned it to his chest. He felt whole. This time he’d be different. Nothing would make him throw this badge away.

“In the sight of the Lord, do you swear to uphold the law?”

Wade held up his right hand. “Yes, sir.” The weight of the righteous duty rested on his shoulders. He patted the badge. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know, son, that’s why I gave it to you. Now, scat, and take care of that woman.”

Wade turned to leave.

Hoofbeats and shouts erupted outside. The door flew open and a wild-eyed man with a noisy crowd behind him charged into the room. The stranger pointed to a wagon. “It’s Terrence Rowen. He’s been shot dead.”

###

After a spell of hard crying, Libby snuffled in a breath. “Mr. Rowen attacked me. I can’t believe this is happening. Why now?” She turned to her aunt. “I so wanted to marry Wade.”

Flora whipped her fan, creating a nervous gust of wind. “Oh my. There’s nothing to say the wedding won’t go on. I am sure once they understand—”

The door slammed into the wall with a loud bang. Harley, face dark, entered the room and strode toward her. “What have you done? The news is all over the streets you killed Terrence Rowen. Why?”

One look at the gambler and Libby knew her trouble was not going away. “Dead? I didn’t mean to. He came at me … the gun was in my hand. What can I do?”

Angry shouts rumbled from outside.

Harley scowled. “Flora, lock the door to the stairs. Daisy, the other one.” He grabbed a chair and tipped it under the knob to the outside door and pointed at the girl to do the same.

He glared at Libby. “Too late to do much. If you’d come before the town found out, I’d have said to make a run for it. Guess we’re just going to have to count on your Deputy to keep things under control.”

Libby stood. “Run? Why would I run? I didn’t mean to—”

Harley grasped her arm, tightening his grip until she grimaced. “Your crazy desire to be independent is likely to send you to a hangman, prison at best. Rowen helped most the businesses in town. He’s given more money to make Denver a going city than anyone else. Sheriff Winters is a hard man. He and the judge won’t think twice about hanging a woman. I’d say you’re in real trouble.”

Knees weak, she sank into her chair.

The gambler released her.

She held her head. His words echoed in her mind, causing her heartbeat to sour into a ragged thump of despair. “Hangman.”

Accusing voices breached the quiet inside the room. “There’s the horse. She must be inside.” Running footsteps sounded on the stairs.

He yanked her out of the chair. “Flora, take Libby and Daisy to the far side of the bed by the wall. And stay down.”

Libby squeezed between the two women but peeked above the bed.

Harley stood guard in front of the door. A foreboding figure in his dark suit and black hat. The only bright spot was the silver weapon at his side. He looked as dangerous as the situation she was in. He drew his gun and faced the door.

Loud yells erupted from outside with louder thumps against the door until it cracked open.

Harley aimed his pistol. “First one in this room gets a bullet.”

Chapter 36

Wade followed the sheriff. Outside, the crisp air heated with angry shouts. He scanned the rabble, and his eyes lit on a wagon in the middle of the throng.

Libby’s boss dead?
Did she know? Was she safe? His stomach churned. He wanted to ride to her and make sure she wasn’t hurt or upset. He pushed through the crowd of onlookers.

Angry voices shouted for revenge.

The old feeling of hate flickered in Wade’s chest. He understood their rage. A good man killed. Taken from them. He’d heard nothing but kind words concerning Rowen.

A shot rang out.

Wade reached for his gun and relaxed.

Smoking weapon in hand, Sheriff Bill Winters climbed atop the wagon. “Break it up. You folks go on about your business and let me and my deputy sort things out. Go on, now.”

Murmuring, the gawkers left the jail but didn’t disperse. Like a gathering storm, the mob swirled amidst thunderous shouts, collecting newcomers along the way. Whoever they were after needed protection, at least until convicted and hung.

Bill jumped down and turned to the old man standing at the rear of the wagon. “Cookie, you see who did it?”

“Huh? Sorry, I don’t hear so well.”

“Did you see who killed Mr. Rowen?”

“Like I said, I was weedin’ the garden in the front of the house. Shot a couple of rattlers, too. After I finished checkin’ on the beans, I went around to the back of the house and tended the chickens, rounded the horses from the pasture and saw her riding like the devil was chasing her. I went into the house and found Mr. Rowen in his office. Dead. Shot in the head. I didn’t see anyone else around. That Libby woman must’ve done it.”

Wade’s insides went hollow. Then fury filled the vacuum. In two quick strides Wade grabbed him by the shirt. Fist raised, he glared at the startled man. “No! Why would you say Libby killed him?”

Cookie shoved a finger into Wade’s chest. “Cause I seen her runnin’ from the place. And not just runnin’ but riding on a horse that wasn’t hers.”