The Lawman's Bride. Cheryl St.John
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of lives.” His deep voice and solemn inflections made the story even more dramatic. He told of Sophie’s role in saving old Sam’s life and her consequent night at the doctor’s home.
“Thank you for looking after Miss Hollis,” Mr. Webb said. “And for coming in like this to explain.”
“Miss Hollis risked her neck. There could’ve been an injured deputy in there for all she knew. Or prisoners.”
“Er. Wasn’t there a prisoner?” the hotel manager asked. He knew all about DeWeise.
“Got away during the excitement,” Clay answered.
Mr. Webb grimaced. “Mr. Harvey won’t be happy about that.”
Clay turned his hat by the brim as he spoke. “None of us are real happy about that.”
“Heard the jailhouse is burned clear to the ground.”
“We’re settin’ up temporary quarters in a building across the street from where we were. Liveryman used the old bars to put together a couple o’ cages. They’ll do for cells while a new building is built.”
With a nod, the marshal excused himself and Mrs. Winters marched away, clearly displeased.
Sophie was left facing the manager. “I don’t know whether what you did was brave or foolish, Sophie,” he said.
“I couldn’t not do it.”
He nodded, his face a study of concern. “I must insist you keep a far less public profile from now on. None of us can afford for you to bring this much negative attention to yourself. Harvey Girls have a strict standard to uphold. Your record must be impeccable.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Are you up to performing your duties today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” He gave her a stern look. “See that you stay in Mrs. Winters’s good graces.”
That had always been her intent, she thought, leaving his office.
The bundle Ellie had sent was still in the hallway where Sophie had left it. She carried it up the back stairs and emptied the pockets of her smelly skirt. Adding her clothing to the nearest laundry bag in the hall, she took time to include a note.
Back in her room, she dressed in a clean pressed uniform, dabbed lilac water on her wrists and throat and arranged her hair. She paused with the folded papers in her palm. She needed to destroy these posters. Hiding them wasn’t good enough.
It was easy to slip down to the overheated bustling kitchen, slide aside a stove lid, and drop the papers into the fire. Pleased with herself, she stepped back. The whole task had taken a turn down a dirt road last night, but she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. Now no one was going to run across those drawings and connect her to her past.
She could truly breathe easy again.
After a long blistering meeting with the city and county officers and an exchange of telegrams with the county seat, Clay met with George Lent, a mason, and a carpenter named Frank Prouty to create a list of supplies. He then sent a wire to Topeka ordering brick.
Al Greene pushed a stack of telegrams across the counter toward him. “All these came this afternoon. I knew you’d be back so I didn’t send a runner.”
Clay thanked him and took the messages.
Standing in the shade of the roof over the boardwalk, he thumbed though the papers. He read a couple of follow-up notes regarding the construction of the new jailhouse followed by replies to his queries to neighboring counties and states.
None of the lawmen had information about anyone meeting Morgan’s description. So far the news didn’t flesh out his instincts. He stuffed the messages into his pocket and reached to unloop his horse’s reins from the hitching rail. He still had a full day of getting a temporary office put together ahead, and he had yet to visit the gunsmith and the hardware store.
Mounting, he headed toward north Main. The same group of plains Indians he’d seen earlier were loading supplies into the back of a wagon with the help of one of the mercantile owner’s hired men.
Clay nodded to the men and tipped his hat to the women. The females greeted him with smiles. “No paper,” one of the women said to him.
“No paper,” he agreed, with a grin.
Odd how Sophie had spotted that con going on right there on the platform with so many people crowded together. But then Newton was the place for it, the railroad hub, and everyone who came through by rail passed that station. The people who worked at the Arcade probably saw more than anyone else.
He found himself wondering if he’d have a chance to visit the dining hall with all he had going on. Eating there had become much more appealing of late.
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