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BOOK: M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga
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Sheriff Diller noticed Lolly’s presence for the first time. “Hy, take the girl back to the doctor’s house. I want you to stand guard outside Pete’s room.”

“You think they might come back for him?” the deputy asked.

“I think we may have put him in danger when we went to talk to him.”

“Christ. Come on, Lolly. It’s time for you to go back.”

“Wait, Lolly. Come here.” Blake said.

The little girl stepped up to the cell and Blake kissed her forehead between the bars. “In case I don’t see
you again.”

Hyram hurried over to the girl and took her hand. He still didn’t like her being so close to one of their prisoners.

After they left, Blake sat down on his bunk. “Sheriff, tomorrow when you hang me, can you make sure Lolly doesn’t see me like that?”

In light of what Pete had told him, the sheriff wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Warner. “You’re not really in a position to make demands.”

“It’s not for my sake, sir.”

Several minutes passed before Blake spoke again. “You think Pete’s in danger?”

Sheriff Diller rose from his desk and slowly meandered over to the cell. “You know you got their folks killed, don’t you? They were killed because someone thought they were aiding a spy.”

Blake paled and felt nauseated.
“My God. I….” What could he say to that? “You think they’re going to come back after Pete?”

“We think they cut out his tongue to keep him from telling us who did this.”

“They can’t stay here. I know people who will take them in.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Why would we send a couple of children from the South to live among Northern jackals?”

“It’s only as far as St. Joseph. These people have money. They can take Pete to the best doctors to see if anything can be done for his speech.”

“Mister, that boy’s tongue is a good inch or two shorter than it used to be. He
ain’t never saying nothing that could be understood.”

“Then he’ll need special schools or tutors.”

Sheriff Diller narrowed his eyes at his prisoner. “You really care about these children, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Blake remembered the feeling that came over him as he rode toward Meredith’s farm. He was certain her parents had been place in his path so he would see to the safety of their children and Blake suddenly felt that sensation again. Was there a higher power at work to force him to marry her so they could be parents to Pete and Lolly? Had he been captured so he would still be in Chimeric Valley when their parents were murdered? The hair on his arms and back of his neck rose—but not from danger.

“Are you really their uncle?”

Freedom lay in Blake’s answer to that question. “We both know what Pete said,” he said ambiguously doubting he confirmed the story but not wanting to contradict him if he did.

“Yeah, he said you’re his uncle.”

That surprise Blake but he schooled his expression so the sheriff wouldn’t see. Why would the boy lie?

“Are you still going to hang me?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Blake nodded his head. “Either way, let me take responsibility for Pete and Lolly. I’ll get them out of the area so they should be safe from the men who killed their folks. It’s the least I can do if I’m responsible for this tragedy.”

“If you’re their uncle – and I’m not saying I believe it – if I let you go, are you going to ship them to your friends in St. Joseph?”

“If you let me go, I’ll be happy to adopt them
before I leave here.”

“Without consulting your wife?”

“My wife’s parents were killed a month ago by renegade Sioux. If anyone can understand what Pete and Lolly are going through, she can.”

Sheriff Harlan Diller exhaled a sigh of exhaustion. “You still haven’t told me from your own lips that you are their uncle.”

“If you don’t believe Lolly and Pete, why would you believe me?”

Harlan Diller stared at Blake expectantly. “Anna Morgan is my sister. Her real name is Lizzy. Her children are my nephew and niece.” Blake never liked lying outright like that. It just didn’t sit right with him. However, Blake knew his life was on the line.

Harlan Diller didn’t believe Blake Warner and he didn’t believe the children but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why the children were lying. It wasn’t as if Warner was given an opportunity to the convinced the children to call him Uncle Blake. Lolly had run into the jail calling him Uncle Blake and Pete had confirmed it. There was only one thing to do. He was going to release his prisoner. If he high-tailed it out of there without the children, he would place him under arrest again and hang him. Grudgingly, he had to admit, his concern for the children seemed genuine and he suspected that Pete would remain in danger if he stayed there.

Reluctantly, Sheriff Diller retrieved the keys to the cell and unlocked the door.

“You’re free to go.”

Blake sensed that the sheriff neither believed him nor trusted him but could not disprove
he was their uncle unless Pete or Lolly changed their story.

“Sheriff, I’d appreciate it if you would continue to
offer Pete protection until we leave, at least at night.”

The sheriff thought on that for a moment and nodded his head.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I suppose that’s up to the doctor,” Blake said. “I’d like to see Pete now, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. I’ll show you the way.”

Before they left the jail, the sheriff returned the possessions Blake carried on him when he was captured. And told him the rest of his belongings were at the livery with his horse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

21

 

Hy Abercrombie was startled to see the prisoner coming down the hallway in the doctor’s house. His hand was on his gun instantly.

“The sheriff released me,” Blake said holding his hands up. “I’m here to see Pete and Lolly.”

Hyram eyed him suspiciously but opened the door and let him into Pete’s room.

“Uncle Blake!” Lolly shouted and began jumping on the bed. As soon as he was within a couple of feet of the bed, she launched herself at him.

Blake hadn’t been expecting it but by reflex he caught her before she could fall to the ground. He hiked her up and she latched onto his neck.

“May I sit down,” Blake asked Pete indicating the foot of the bed ignoring the two chairs in the room.

Pete wore a guarded expression but gave a slight nod. “How are you feeling, Pete?”

As Pete stared at him, Blake regarded the small boy with stitches holding his lip and about an inch of flesh below it together. No one had mentioned in his presence the cut lip or Pete’s defensive injuries to his hands so they came as a surprise. Guilt flooded Blake’s conscience knowing this child had been hurt because of him and he knew he would spend much of the rest of his life trying to make up for it.

Blake silently cursed the deputy outside the door. Because of his proximity, Blake dared not speak candidly with him. “Pete, the sheriff believes your parents were killed because I went out to your farm. If that’s what happened, I want to tell you how truly sorry I am. If the men who did this are still out there, you’re not safe here. I want you and Lolly to leave with me when I go. I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay. If you go with
me, I can promise, you will never go to bed hungry, you will always have a warm bed to sleep in, you’ll get an education, and you and your sister will stay together. Beyond that I can’t make any promises.”

Pete looked out the window and would not look back at Blake. “You think about it. If you don’t want me to adopt you – if you want me to take you to another relative, I’ll do that, too. But for now, think about what you want.”

Blake wanted to comfort him the way he comforted Lolly but he knew the boy wouldn’t accept it from him if he believed Blake’s actions led to the murders he witnessed. “You look tired. Do you want me to take Lolly with me so you can rest?”

Pete pointed at Lolly then laid his cheek on the backside of his open hand.

“Lolly needs a nap, too?”

Pete nodded and held the covers open.

“You heard your brother,” Blake said to Lolly, a slight blush crept up his neck and his choice of words. “Into bed with you, Lolly.”

“Ah, Uncle Blake, I don’t wanna take a nap. Naps are for babies.”

“No argument. Pete knows what’s best for you and I will defer to his judgment.”

Blake placed Lolly next to Pete and pulled the sheet up to her neck. “Close your eyes and go to sleep.” He pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Sweet dreams, Lolly. Sweet dreams, Pete.”

“Uncle Blake, will you stay ‘til I go to sleep?”

Blake looked to Pete to see if he cared. Pete shrugged. “Sure sweetie, if that’s what you want.”

Blake stepped over to the window and closed the curtains then took a seat in a rocking chair next to the bed.

“Uncle Blake, would you sing a song for me?”

Like most of the things associated with his childhood, Blake had pushed the memory of children’s songs so far down that he could not remember any.

“I’m sorry Lolly, I don’t know any songs.”

Pete rolled over to face his sister and began humming a lullaby. His voice cracked at first due to lack of use but after a few seconds, Pete’s voice became pure and rich.

“’Night, Petey.”
She turned and reached out her little hand to rest on his cheek.

Blake smiled at the sight they presented and leaned his head back as he gently rocked, listening to Pete’s soft hum.

 

Blake was the first one to wake up. Quietly, he exited the room and sought out the doctor who told him everything he could about Pete’s condition. The doctor was fine with the prospect of Pete moving to the hotel but preferred he not travel until his stitches were out.

The people of the Chimeric Valley avoided Blake as he walked to the hotel to rent rooms. The desk clerk argued with Blake over the
Yankee money
he wanted to use to pay for the rooms but eventually the manager diplomatically accepted it for a twenty-five percent surcharge. In the end, Blake was able to rent two rooms across the hall from each other because they did not have any rooms with connecting doors.

Blake retrieved his remaining belongings from the livery stable, paying for his horse’s care while he was in jail and for the remainder of the week.

“Do you have any horses for sale?”  Blake asked the man who ran the place.

He shook his head. “Hasn’t been so long ago that the army came and took every horse worth taking. To be honest, I was hoping you’d swing so I might get a hold of yours.”

Blake chuckled, humorlessly. “Well, at least you’re honest about it,” he said. “I guess you heard about the Morgans. I’m taking Pete and Lolly and we can’t all ride on my mare.”

He nodded. “I think I might know someone with a little one axle gig.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need. Can you make some inquiries for me? Make sure the springs are in good condition. Pete doesn’t need to be jostled any more than necessary with his injuries.”

The hostler shook his head. “I just can’t believe
what happened out there. It makes me sick to think that someone from around here could have butchered that family the way they done. Howard Morgan may have been a son-of-a-bitch and a drunk but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. Well, he mighta but that woman and boy didn’t,” the man said. “Oh, jeez, I forgot you’re related.”

“I never met the man so I’ll trust your judgment.”

“But your sister….”

Blake shook his head. “We always suspected there was a disreputable man involved when she ran off.”

“Well, it’s good of you to take in the boy, too, since he’s not kin.”

Blake schooled his reaction. “As far as I’m concerned he’s my nephew as much as Lolly is my niece.” Blake made a mental note to find out if they were stepbrother/sister or half-brother/sister. That could be
the kind of slipup that would land him back on the gallows.

 

Blake tried to put himself in the shoes of a twelve-year-old boy when he tried to figure out the best way of getting him from the doctor’s house to the hotel. It was a full four blocks and much too far for someone recovering from a stabbing to walk but he felt certain the boy would be embarrassed to be carried that distance. In the end, Blake saddled his horse so Pete could ride to the hotel. Lolly pouted when she found out Uncle Blake had bought her brother a set of store-bought clothes but he reminded her that Pete couldn’t ride through the streets in his longjohns and he promised he would buy her new clothes as soon as they were to their new home.

BOOK: M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga
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