The Mistaken Mail Order Bride (20 page)

“You have a wonderful gift,” she whispered
to Caleb. “I hope you always trust it.”

***

By the time Caroline and Caleb returned to
town, a group of people had gathered around the jailhouse. She had
thought about following Travis to the ravine, but she’d decided
against it when she thought about Caleb. He didn’t need to see a
dead body.

She tightened her arm around his waist,
surprised the urge to protect him from the harsher realities of
life was so powerful. She might not have given birth to him, but
she was beginning to feel like he was her child. And what mother
wouldn’t want to protect her child from the worst life had to
offer?

She turned toward the livery stable when a
gentleman—Hank, if she remembered right—ran up to her and asked,
“Is it true? Was Mrs. Richie found dead in the ravine?”

“Oh, well…” Was it appropriate for her to
answer the question without Eric there? He was the one
investigating the matter, after all.

“I just got through saying it was Mrs.
Richie, Hank,” the lady who’d come to ask Caroline to get Travis
said, hot on his heels.

The rest of the group quickly followed her
as he turned back to Caroline and said, “Maude’s right. She did say
it. I was just making sure it’s true. The last time a woman spread
lies around here, she ended up in jail for a night.”

Caroline’s face warmed. Did the town blame
Ida’s arrest on her?

“Maybe we should leave this to my husband,”
Caroline said. “I only know what Maude and her friend told me. I
went to get Travis so he could help my husband. They should be here
soon to answer your questions.”

Another man, probably middle-aged, asked
her, “You went to get Travis all by yourself?”

Maude let out an exasperated sigh and threw
her hands up in the air. “I already told you that, Jerry.”

“But Travis eats animals raw with his bare
hands,” Jerry said. “It’s not safe for anyone to go up there
without a gun. You could have been killed.”

“Travis is a nice gentleman,” Caroline
replied. “As soon as he heard my husband needed him, he left to
help him.”

“Didn’t you see anything suspicious while
you were there?” Jerry insisted. “Like some bones in the yard? Or
animal parts strewn about?”

Oh! He was teasing her. Caroline laughed.
“You ought to stop such talk. What if you give someone nightmares?”
Then, at once, she thought of Caleb and sobered. “Also, there’s a
child present. It wouldn’t do to talk in such a way around
him.”

“Someone needs to warn you about him,”
another gentleman from the crowd called out. “That way you’ll keep
that poor, innocent child away from that place.”

“Right,” a lady agreed from the crowd. “No
one’s seen what Travis looks like and lived. They say he keeps his
face covered at all times.”

“It’s because he’s a monster,” Hank told
Caroline.

Caroline frowned as her gaze swept across
the group. “I don’t understand any of you. If you truly believed
that, then why didn’t you run and hide when he came through
here?”

“We turned our backs to him,” Hank replied.
“If you don’t look at him, he can’t hurt you.”

“I’ve never heard anything so silly in all
my life.” Truly, this was the strangest bit of nonsense she’d ever
heard. “I was there when the Union soldiers came to invade my home,
and I can tell you that not looking at them wasn’t going to stop
them from hurting me. If Travis wanted to hurt you, he would have
done it.”

“Travis isn’t like other men,” the lady
said. “He isn’t human born.”

“Of course, he is,” Caroline replied. “He’s
a human being, just like everyone here.”

“Then why haven’t we ever seen his parents?”
Hank asked.

Caroline blinked. Never before had she heard
such a ridiculous question. “I don’t know. I’m new to this town. I
barely know any of you.” Before they could say anything, she added,
“And even though I don’t know your backgrounds, I am well aware
every one of you has human parents. You all came from a lady and a
gentleman.”

An old lady came up to her. “That’s the way
of it for most, but no one here has ever seen his parents. One day,
he was here. It’s as if he appeared out of nowhere, and it happened
a year after the strange gypsy passed through this town. She said
she heard tales from the Indians that spirits abound in these
parts. Some are good, and some are bad. But all can connect with
humans. I think one of the bad spirits conceived him with a human
parent. That’s why he has the appearance of a monster. Why, I’ve
heard it said he’s missing a nose. Another said he has three eyes.
That’s why he hides his face.”

To Caroline’s surprise, a few people around
the old lady murmured their agreement. “That’s absurd. I saw his
face myself, and he looks normal. Why, look at Caleb. He’s a young
boy, and he wasn’t afraid of him. You’re spreading lies about him
like you did about me, and that’s not fair. The least you can do is
get to know people before you pass judgment on them. Quite frankly,
after talking to everyone in this group, I don’t blame Travis at
all for keeping to himself.”

Everyone grew silent, and Caroline, in her
naivety, was beginning to believe they were finally listening to
reason. But then Hank said, “Travis has bewitched you,” and
everyone was talking at once, as if they were in a panic.

“Could it be true?” one lady asked
another.

“It’s not possible for someone to bewitch
someone else, is it?” another lady asked.

“It does seem unbelievable, but what if it’s
true?” a man asked.

Caroline gave up. There was no speaking
reason to a group of people who seemed to entertain superstitious
notions some gypsy told them long ago. She led the horse around
them and continued on her way to the livery stable.

***

“So you agree that Lydia was murdered?” Eric
asked Travis as they inspected her body at the bottom of the
ravine.

“You said you found her right here?” Travis
gestured to her body.

“Yes. I haven’t moved her except to turn her
over.”

He glanced up at the top of the ravine.
“There’s no doubt about it. Someone pushed her. And if I’m guessing
right, they were either on a horse or in a wagon when it
happened.”

“I saw a hint of wagon tracks on the road up
there, and the tracks were heading out of town.”

“Then I’d say she was in a wagon, and
whoever was with her pushed her off.”

That’s what Eric had been thinking, too, but
it was good to get a second opinion. It made the chances he was
right even better. “Well, let’s get her loaded into the wagon and
take her to the doctor. He might find something we’re missing. You
bring the blanket?”

Travis nodded and went to get it.

Chapter Seventeen

I
t
was with tired steps that Eric lumbered down to the stream on Carl
Richie’s land. Carl had his back to him, and he was panning for
gold. Eric heard the area had gold and silver, but up to now, he
hadn’t heard of anyone who actually got anything. The boom seemed
to be long over. But from time to time, someone would still make an
attempt to find something.

Eric had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t
tell Carl he was wasting his time. He didn’t come here to lecture
Carl about fruitless pursuits. His mission was that of a grim
nature.

“Carl,” Eric called out as he came up to the
stream.

Carl jumped and spilled some water out of
his pan. “I think I saw some gold flakes in that one, Eric.” He
slammed the pan on the ground and put his head in his hands. “I
can’t get out of here unless I have money.”

“You have bigger problems to deal with right
now.”

“What problems?” Carl asked.

“Your wife is dead.”

Carl looked up from his hands, his eyes wide
in shock. “What?”

“Maude and Gretchen found her lying in the
ravine a mile south of town.” Eric studied Carl’s reaction but
found nothing in his expression that would indicate he’d already
known this.

“She was dead in the ravine?” His voice was
incredulous, further indicating his innocence.

“She hasn’t been dead for long,” Eric said.
“The doctor’s taking a look at her now and seeing if there’s
anything more we can learn about the situation, but at the moment,
I’d say the murder occurred late last night.” He paused then asked,
“When did you last see your wife?”

Carl jumped to his feet. “Do you think I
killed her?”

“I’m not saying that. Right now, I’m not
saying anyone killed her. My job is to ask questions and narrow
down who might have done it.”

“And I’m one of the suspects?”

“At the moment, everyone’s a suspect.”

“Except for you.”

Eric resisted the urge to laugh. “The last
time I saw your wife was at the jailhouse when she asked me to
arrest you for trying to get her into your bed. After that, I went
home, had dinner, and spent the rest of the night with my wife. The
murder happened late last night, probably around eleven or
midnight. Maybe even one. The doctor will have a better idea of the
exact time of death. But I didn’t leave the house until this
morning after breakfast, and that was around eight. There’s no way
I could have done it.”

“Well, I didn’t do it. I was asleep last
night.”

“I didn’t say you did it, Carl. I’m just
trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on. I want to start
with you since you’re her husband. Since Lydia asked me to arrest
you, it’s obvious you two were fighting.”

Carl rolled his eyes. “When are we not
fighting? I’ve been married to her for seven years, Eric. If I
wanted to kill her, I would have done it already.”

Eric was ready to remind him he’d already
said, multiple times, that he wasn’t accusing him of murder, but
then he relented. Carl was in shock. He was bound to think the
worst.

“I saw her at about four,” Eric said. “Were
you both in town, or was she by herself?”

“She was by herself. I didn’t go with
her.”

“What time did she leave?”

Carl shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t look
at the clock.”

“You must have some idea. Was it around
noon? In the morning?”

After a moment, he said, “She slept in late
through the morning again. She came down here to bother me.”

“What did she bother you about?”

“Not finding gold. Her favorite pastime is
reminding me that I’m a failure.” He paused then amended, “Or
rather, it was her favorite pastime.”

“How did the argument end?”

“It ended with her saying she’d had enough
of waiting for the gold. She wasn’t going to stay around here
anymore. She said as far as she was concerned, the whole thing was
a lost cause. She said she wasn’t going to stick around here until
I turn twenty-eight, and she sure as heck wasn’t going to have my
child so I could keep panning for nothing.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“I told her she didn’t have a choice. We
made our vows. In the eyes of God and man, it’s her duty to try for
the child whether she likes it or not.” Carl shook his head and
rubbed his eyes. “It’s the same thing we’ve been fighting about
ever since the judge was here to settle the dispute over the will
my good-for-nothing father left me.” He kicked the pan across the
ground and swore. “Are you sure Lydia’s dead?”

“I saw her with my own two eyes,” Eric
replied.

He swore again, waited for a moment, and
asked, “Is it possible she killed herself? It would be a surefire
way of denying me a child.”

“No, it wasn’t suicide. The way she fell
indicates she was pushed out of a wagon.”

“Well, that right there proves I didn’t do
it. My wagon’s broken. It needs a new wheel. You can check it for
yourself. It’s in the barn.”

“How did Lydia get to town if it was broken
yesterday?”

“She took her horse. Go on and check that,
too. It’s gone. It was brown with a white stripe along its nose.
She usually puts the thing at the livery stable when she stays in
town.”

“Approximately, what time did she take the
horse out of here?”

“I don’t know. I think it might have been
around noon.” He put his hands on his hips. “That was the last time
I saw her. She never came home last night. I went to town this
morning looking for her. See? That also proves I didn’t do it. Why
would I ask you where she was if I was the one who killed her?”

“I’m not saying you killed her. I’m just
trying to find out what happened leading up to the murder, that’s
all.”

“Are you going to ask Abe where he was last
night?”

Eric’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I do
that?”

“Because of all the people who’d want her
dead, he has the best motive. Our father’s will clearly states if I
don’t have a child by the time I’m twenty-eight, this stream goes
to him. If I don’t have a wife, I can’t have the child.” He let out
a bitter laugh. “Our father had the nerve to mandate that the child
needed to be legitimate. I mean, sure, he can go off and have a
child with his mistress, but I need to be faithful to the wife he
gave me. How’s that for fair?”