Sundown (4 page)

“
Ma’am
.”  A middle-aged man with kind eyes, and a graying beard greeted her.  “My name is Cecil Bertram.  Got word you needed some help.”

“Is that right?”  She asked.  Pursing her lips, she cut him a wooden smile.  “How
expedient.”

“My wife and
I, we are caretakers of an orphanage not too far from here.  This morning I found a note attached to my front door with a sizable don
ation.  The note mentioned
you were in distress and needed some assistance.”

Arabella found it hard to say anything at all. 

Instead, she nodded her head as a sudden uneasy feeli
ng gnawed at her stomach while
slowly making its way to her chest. 

She knew she would never see him again. 

“You got any
folks?”  Cecil continued with his quizzical stare pitying her disheveled appearance.  Though the man saddled before her could have guessed her delicate predicament, he had no idea of the irony of her situation.  The sound of Luke’s silky voice echoed in the back of her mind. 

I will not make you an accessor
y …

Arabella tilted her head.  Cupping her hand above her brow, she strained her eyes and withdrew a long heavy sigh.

“My father i
s Wyeth Gentry.”  Her voice took
on a
hardedge
.  “He’s the Sheriff of some godforsaken place called Sundown.”

“Coffee’s ready.”   

Wyeth Gentry propped his hand against his forehead, while his household cook, Lena Talltree placed another cup of coffee in front of him.  She watched guardedly as he ran a nervous hand through his unruly mane.  When he looked toward the ceiling, she caught the rush of emotions, which crossed his handsome face.  To her, the reflection was nothing less than remorse. 

“Thank you, Lena.”  He garbled.

Across the table, Doctor Park
er
Hiram sipped from his
tin
, while eyeing Lena with appreciation.  Plump and middle-aged, the Indian woman nodded her head, and smiled back at him.

“You want another cup, Doc?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“All right then,” Lena nodded.  “Would you like a cinnamon bun to go with your coffee?”

“I swan, but every time I pay a visit you try to fatten me up with your delicacies.”  Doc lamented using his most charming southern drawl.  Tugging on a gray goatee, the old man smiled.  Pushing his cup forward,
he waited while she filled to the
rim.

Lena clucked her tongue and shook her head.
  Putting a hand on her hip
, she dropped her chin and issued the physician a playful sharp-eyed
glare. 

“I daresay the
huge appetite of yours has any objections.”

Doc chuckled.

“I should head out.” 
Wyeth
murmured oblivious to their lighthearted prattle.  “
Wade
’s waiting for me at the jailhouse.  I suppose after what happened yesterday folks in town have many questions that need some answering.”

“I doubt that hotheaded deputy of yours can hold down the fort by himself without causing some sort of raucous.”  Doc graveled.  “You best get on down there and set those yokels straight.  If you ask me, townsfolk only need to know
what is
important.  Y
our daughter is safe and sound.”

“Thank God.”  Lena chimed in, placing a china plate in front of him, loaded with a gooey cinnamon bun.

“Good morning.”

At the start of her voice, all three turned to find Arabella standing in the doorway with deadbeat eyes and a sheepish grin.

Crossing the kitchen floor, she took a seat next to Doc Parker, and lifted her chin.

“Lena?”  She cleared her shaky voice.  “May I have some coffee please?”

“Right away.”

“Did you sleep well?”  Wyeth inquired.

“Much better than I thought.”  She replied, studying her father’s haggard features. 
“I daresay you did
.”

“None of us
did, my dear.”  Doc spoke up
.

“I’m sorry.”  She murmured.  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault.”  Wyeth returned.  “I’ve been out all-night trekking with a posse.”

“Any luck?”

“They got away clean.”  Her father’s voice turned
stark.  “Next time, I don’t think they’ll be so lucky.”

Arabella glanced down at the table, masking her concern
.
S
he was thankful the Shelton gang got away.  Ashamed, she bit her lip, and scolded hers
elf for thinking such disloyal
notions.

“Here you go, honey.”  Lena piped, trying to head off the conversation with her usual buoyant
nature.  “I’ve breakfast warming in the oven, its biscuits and gravy for you.”

Arabella managed a thankful smile. 

Sipping her coffee, she suddenly felt the weight of her father’s green-eyed gaze on her.  Finding the courage, she lifted her chin and met with his probing stare.  Even now, at forty-five, he was an exceedingly handsome man, tall and bronzed by the years, a thatch of
crows-feet etched alongside
jaded eyes,
like her very own,
enhancing the inherent strength of his chiseled face.  Though somewhat aloof, she considered her father quite a catch for a lonely woman in a small town such as Sundown.  Given this fact, she wondered about his long-term stage of bachelorhood.  She supposed his reticence was likely because of her mother’s passing. 

She remembered twelve years before, the day her father packed his saddlebags.  Perhaps the pain was too great, or maybe he felt the need for wanderlust.  Whatever his reason, her father had abandoned her, leaving her on her Uncle’s front porch while she watched him ride away. 

For years, she yearned for his whereabouts.  It
was not
until after the close of the war
she had
finally received his letter.  How surprised
she had
been to learn he was a Sheriff, overseeing a small town in Colorado Territory. 

He had
expressed his need to reunite, also encouraging her to take on an open position as schoolmistress there.  After much thought she decided
she had
nothing to lose, taking her father up on his offer, she headed west.  Finally, months later here she sat staring back at her father with so many questions still unanswered.

“What’s the matter, Poppa?”

“I was just thinking
you look so much like your mother.”  

Arabella blushed. 

“
Flora used to say the same.” 

Wyeth hesitated.  Fiddling with his
tin
, he inquired. 

“How are John, and my sister
?”

“They bot
h are well.”  Arabella informed, referring to her
A
unt and Uncle Claymore.
  “Uncle John, he still plows the fields, and Aunt Flora, she and Cousin Aimee head a quilting bee society.”

For the first time she saw
her father smile. 

Beneath an
austere façade, she found the devastatingly handsome man she once remembered as a girl.  Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he took another swig of coffee, and then stood to his feet.

“Enjoy your breakfast.”  He cut his smile short.  Reaching in his pocket, he withdrew a badge, and pinned it to his shirt pocket.  “Lena can help you settle in while I’m at the office. 
We will
catch up later.  You ready Park?”

“Ready as I’ll ev
er be.”  Doc
grumbled, trying to finish
his cinnamon bun.  He
stood to his feet, and then winked at Lena before turning to Arabella.  “Young woman, I’ll see you later.”

A
fter
morning
breakfast, Arabella sat with Lena, helping unpack and organize her be
longings.  While doing
so, she wisely listened
as the older woman
coach
ed her
about life in
Sundown. 
She
learned the town’s population increased just yesterday thanks to her much expected arriva
l.  The tally now stood at three
-hundred and eleven, not including those who lived-in the outer lying homesteads within the territory. 

Sundown boasted two
saloons, including a gambling hall and one ho
use of impropriety,
two rivaling
mercantilists, a boar
dinghouse, a Chinese laundry
, a bank, two livery stables, a schoolhouse, a house of worship, a jailhouse which rarely stayed empty, and a post office, telegraph and freight station combined as one.  Lena
also explained
there were twice as many men living in Sundown, as there were women, and just as many children.  She smiled when the older woman covertly mentioned the town gossip, Mamie Hartley and her lovely daughter Genevieve who most townsfolk considered the catch of Sundown.

Arabella tried to soak up as much informati
on as she could before
Lena exhausted all her
facts.  With the last of her clothing put away, she turned to her father’s household help
, and posed a forward question. 

“What about your family?”

Lena stepped back outwardly startled.  Her large brown eyes turned somber as she weighed the question.  With reticent clarity, she quickly answered. 

“I have
a
son and daughter.”
  Lena replied a measure of d
isquietude suddenly replaced the woman’s usual sunny disposition.  “They live among the Cheyenne
.” 

Ara
bella lifted her eyes with
surprise. 

She had heard of these indigent people, but only read about them in romantic novellas. 
S
ensing the
woman’s sudden unease
, she dropped the subject and
expelled a sudden yawn.

“There now, Mi
ss Bella.”  Lena shook her head,
looking somewhat relieved
she need not explain further.
  “You must rest, you’re s
till exhausted
.”

“Thank You, Lena.”  Arabella placed a hand on the cook’s dress sleeve.  “You’ve been such a big help.  I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Lena chuckled.  “Your Poppa says the very same.”

Slowly, the riders approached, bearing a steady canter.  The leader draped in a floor-length slicker camouflaged himself in black from head to toe.  Tall and seemingly precarious, he dismounted with careful precision, surveying his surroundings before motioning his party to dismount as well. 

She hovered there shivering in a sheer night rail like a sallow ghost, watching the vigilant men
circle the stagecoach
.  In unison, they stepped forward.  The clang of silver spurs catching
against the hard-packed earth
echoed beneath heavy footsteps. 

Like a flash of lightening, her mind instantly knew what waited for them
in the stagecoach. 
Though she felt weak, as if her essence withered away, the fear that gripped her heart gave her a newfound strength.  Bursting forward, she screamed at the top of her lungs, warning them to turn away.
  To her dismay, she found
they did not listen.  Alarmed the end was near she knew she only had one more chance before it was too late.

“No!”  She cried.  To her astonished surprise, her own voice sounded like a banshee’s wail rushing wild upon the wind.  “For God Sake, please go back!”