The Mistaken Mail Order Bride (19 page)

After taking in all the evidence he could,
he told the women to go to town and get Walt. “Tell him to bring
his buckboard wagon and a blanket,” he concluded.

The women nodded and hurried to do as he
wished.

Meanwhile, he sat by the ravine and tried to
figure the approximate timing of her death and who had the motive
to kill her.

***

Caroline opened the door, surprised when she
saw Phoebe.

“I hope you don’t mind I stopped by,” Phoebe
said. “Abe brought in some furs and food to sell in town. My mother
went to visit with Lois, but I thought I’d come here.”

“Come on in,” Caroline invited, stepping
aside so Phoebe could enter.

Phoebe turned to someone and waved, and it
was then that Caroline noticed Abe. She waved to Abe, too, and he
returned the gesture.

“He’ll come get me when he’s done,” Phoebe
said.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Caroline replied
as she shut the door. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I was looking forward to seeing you, too,
which is why I didn’t want to visit with Lois today. Lois is nice,
and I enjoy her company. But she’s more of my mother’s friend than
mine.”

“I understand. It’s easier to relate to
someone closer to your age.”

“Exactly. So you know what I mean.” Phoebe
looked over at Caleb who was at the table, working on writing the
letter B on the small chalkboard. “That looks really good,
Caleb.”

“I just started teaching him how to write,”
Caroline told her. “We’ll start with the alphabet and then work on
the words.”

“You mean this is his first time writing
anything?”

“He told me he didn’t know how to read or
write.” Well, he hadn’t come out and stated it that way, but he’d
shaken his head when she asked him about it. “When he starts
school, I want him to be ready.”

Phoebe smiled. “I have no doubt he will with
you and Eric for parents.”

Pleased by her kind words, Caroline returned
her smile. “It’s a nice day. Would you like to have some lemonade
and sit on the porch? I made lemonade from the recipe you gave me,
so it shouldn’t taste bad.”

Phoebe chuckled. “You shouldn’t be so hard
on yourself. I made some mistakes along the way while I was
learning how to cook.”

“Your meals are so delicious. I have a hard
time believing you ever made mistakes.”

“It’s true. I’ll tell you all about them
while we sip our lemonade on the porch. But first,” she added as
she closed the distance to Caroline, “I have some good news, and I
couldn’t wait to tell you. That’s why I asked Abe if he’d go into
town today instead of waiting until next week like he originally
planned.”

Picking up on her excitement, Caroline
asked, “What is it?”

“I’m in the family way!”

Caroline’s smile widened. “You are?”

She nodded. “And better yet, Abe is happy
about it. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to convince
him to marry me, so I wasn’t sure he’d be happy about having a
child. But now that I know he’s happy, I wanted to come and tell
you. Well, that is, after I told my mother.”

“That is good news.” Caroline gave her a
hug. “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

“Either one will be fine, but I think it’d
be nice if Abe had a son. He never felt close to his father. I
think he’d make it a point to be there for his son and teach him
everything he knows about hunting and taking care of the land. But
if we have a girl, I know he’ll be good to her, too.”

“
My father and brother used
to do everything together. I did more things with my mother. I
think it’s natural for boys to bond more with their fathers and for
girls to bond more with their mothers.” After a moment passed
between them, she said, “I’ll get the lemonade.” She went over to
Caleb. “Would you like to come with us?”

He set his chalk and slate aside and got
down from the chair.

Taking that as a yes, Caroline poured a
glass for all three of them and led the way outside.

When she sat in one of the chairs, Caleb
asked, “Can I sit on your lap?”

“Of course, you can,” she replied.

Phoebe grinned at her. “I suppose boys can
be close to their mothers, too.”

“And girls can be close to their fathers,”
Caroline mused.

As Phoebe sat in her chair, Caroline wrapped
her arm around Caleb and helped him get into a comfortable position
on her lap. She wondered if Caleb did this with the person who used
to take care of him. Perhaps it was his mother, and they often sat
outside together. Maybe they even drank lemonade.

Caroline took a sip of her lemonade and
realized it was a little too tart. “I think I didn’t put in as much
sugar as you told me to.”

“I think it tastes alright,” Phoebe said.
“It’s just like the kind I make. Maybe you prefer things sweeter
than I do. In that case, add more sugar next time. That’s the thing
about recipes. There is no right way to make anything. Everyone’s
tastes will vary. Adjust the recipe to what pleases you.”

At least Caroline knew she’d done the recipe
right. And now that she knew she could manipulate the recipe, she
didn’t feel quite so overwhelmed with the process of learning how
to cook.

Two ladies came running over to them, and
Caroline stiffened in the chair. Did Ida say something that upset
them? There was no doubt they didn’t look the least bit
pleased.

“Are you the sheriff’s new wife?” one asked
Caroline.

“Yes,” Caroline said, bracing herself for
the worst. “May I help you?”

“We went to the livery stable, but Walt’s
taken ill,” the lady replied as she struggled to take a breath.
“Walt’s sister said Travis Martin can help. She suggested we go to
you since you’re the sheriff’s wife, and the sheriff knows where to
find him. Did he tell you where Travis lives?”

“What do you need Travis for?” Caroline
asked.

“To help your husband with the body,” the
other lady said. “There’s been a murder.”

Caroline couldn’t believe her ears. “A
murder?” Surely, she’d heard wrong.

“Yes. Mrs. Richie is dead,” the lady
replied.

“Mrs. Richie?” This time, it was Phoebe who
asked the question. “Carl’s wife?”

“That’s the only Mrs. Richie around here,”
the lady replied.

Caroline didn’t know anything about Travis,
Carl, or Carl’s wife, but it was apparent Phoebe did.

“I know where Travis Martin lives,” Phoebe
said. “Do you have a buggy so Caroline and I can go out to his
place?”

“Yes, I do,” the lady said.

Caroline set Caleb on his feet and stood up.
“What about Abe? This could take a while.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Phoebe
admitted.

“Tell me where Travis is, and I’ll go to
him.” Caroline turned to the ladies. “Where is my husband?”

“The ravine a mile south of town,” one of
the ladies told her.

“And where is Travis?” Caroline asked
Phoebe.

“Up the road that way. Take a right at the
fork in the road and keep going up until you come to the only house
up there. He’s terribly shy around women, so you might have to run
after him to get him to listen to you.”

Caroline thought Phoebe was joking, but she
didn’t laugh. So maybe she was serious.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d go see Travis all
by myself,” the lady warned. “He’s a monster of a man.”

“He’s no such thing,” Phoebe replied. “He’s
just shy, that’s all. Abe thinks he’s a good person, and Abe is a
good judge of character.”

“You say what you want, but there are things
about him that aren’t quite right,” the other lady said. “We
wouldn’t go there without our husbands to protect us.”

“Speak for yourself,” the lady began with a
shiver. “I wouldn’t even go with my husband.”

Caroline decided she’d listen to Phoebe. “Is
there a side saddle at the livery stable?” she asked the
ladies.

“Yes,” the lady replied. Then her eyes grew
wide. “Are you really going to go out there?”

“Alone?” the other lady added, placing her
hand over her heart.

“I’ll be going with Caleb,” Caroline said.
“You don’t mind, do you Caleb?”

The boy shook his head.

“Oh, you’re a brave one,” the lady
replied.

Phoebe turned to Caroline. “Let’s go to the
livery stable and get your husband’s horse. I can put on the side
saddle for you.”

Glad for the help, Caroline quickly put the
glasses of lemonade away.

Chapter Sixteen

A
s
Caroline led the horse up to Travis’ property, she had to admit the
place did seem somewhat spooky. The cottage was hidden by trees, so
she could only guess what it looked like. The paint on the building
and barn was chipping, and weeds and vines were creeping up along
them. It almost seemed as if no one had inhabited the place for
years.

“What do you think, Caleb?” she whispered to
the boy on her lap. “Do you trust the person who lives here?” She
wasn’t sure if he could get a gut feeling without seeing the person
who lived here, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

The boy scanned the area and then
nodded.

This, coupled with Phoebe’s assurance,
helped ease her nerves. She continued leading the horse up the rest
of the way. A tall, stocky gentleman came out of the barn, carrying
a bucket. She was ready to call out a greeting when her horse
neighed.

The gentleman glanced in her direction and
bolted for the building, slamming the door behind him.

She stopped the horse. What had just
happened? Did he actually run from her and Caleb?

“He’s scared of people,” Caleb told her, as
if he knew what she was thinking.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I just do.”

It was the same thing with Ida, Lois, and
Phoebe. She got him down from the horse and then slid off the
saddle. She tied the reins to the post then took Caleb’s hand and
walked to the large building.

“Mr. Martin,” she called out. “I’m Mrs.
Johnson. The sheriff’s wife.”

She reached the door of the building and
waited for him to open it, but nothing happened. She couldn’t even
hear a peep from the other side. Well, she couldn’t be surprised.
Phoebe did warn her that she might have to chase after Travis.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the
door. “Mr. Travis, my husband asked for you. There’s a lady by the
name of Mrs. Richie whose been found dead, and he needs your help
with the body.”

This time she heard some shuffling from the
other side, and a moment later, reluctant footsteps made their way
to the door. When he opened it, she looked up at him, noting he had
his hat pulled down to his nose and his head tilted down, making it
hard to see his face.

“Mrs. Richie died?” he asked, his voice
lower than she’d expected. But, given his large frame, she supposed
his voice fit.

She cleared her throat and nodded. Then, not
sure he could see her when he didn’t seem to be looking directly at
her, she added, “Yes. My husband suspects someone killed her.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought his
expression grew dark. She gulped and stepped back. Maybe Phoebe
didn’t find anything intimidating about him, but she had to admit
the ladies were right in being apprehensive about coming out here.
The only reason she didn’t bolt for the horse was because Caleb
didn’t seem afraid.

“My husband asked if you would bring your
wagon and a blanket,” she continued. “He’s waiting about a mile
south of town, and he’s at the ravine. Do you know where the ravine
is?”

“Yes. I’ll be there.” Without another word,
he shut the door and marched to the barn.

Good. Now they were getting somewhere. She
led Caleb back to the horse and got on. After Caleb got comfortable
on her lap, they waited for Travis to come out of the barn. When he
did, he seemed surprised she was still there since he stopped his
horses and looked right at her.

It was then she saw the scars on his face
and understood why he tipped his hat so low and hadn’t made eye
contact with her.

He quickly looked away from her and snapped
the reins of his horses so they’d go forward.

In silence, she followed him, figuring it’d
make him more comfortable if she gave him adequate space.

“He’s lonely,” Caleb told her.

“Are you sure?” It seemed to her that Travis
enjoyed the solitude, given that he chose to live far from everyone
else.

“He’s afraid people won’t accept him.”

Because of the scars. Caleb didn’t have to
say it. She knew that was why. And maybe part of it had to do with
how tall he was. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall,
and he had a husky build. In some ways, he seemed as formidable as
Stonewall Jackson had been. Unmovable. Strong. Imposing.

But Caleb didn’t see those things when he
looked at Travis, and that was a curious thing. Caleb, it seemed,
had the uncanny ability to see people as they really were instead
of the way they presented themselves to the rest of the world.