True to the Law (29 page)

“And then you put him in the Coltranes’ rooms. He probably thought he was someone special right off.”

“He
is
.”

“He’s someone rich and that just makes him rich, not special. Anyway, I thought you and Renee were still scrappin’ over Cobb Bridger. What happened there?”

“The marshal’s all right, I guess, but Mr. Mackey is real easy on my eyes.”

Snorting, Mrs. Sterling added two more hotcakes to Cil’s platter. “Take these out to Harry Sample. Syrup, too.”

Cil grabbed the pitcher of syrup on her way out. When she saw Andrew Mackey seated at the table by the window, she forgot all about Harry Sample.

He smiled warmly when she set the pancakes and syrup in front of him. “You are looking very well this morning,” he said to her.

Cil blushed.

His voice dropped to an intimate pitch that only carried as far as Cecilia’s ears. “I didn’t hear you leave. The next time, wake me.”

Chapter Eleven

“Morning, Walt,” Cobb said. He held the Pennyroyal’s front door open for Walter so the other man could get outside with his broom and bucket and rags. “Isn’t it a little early for outside cleaning?”

Walter shrugged his broad shoulders. “Early for some things.” He gave Cobb a significant, speculative look. “Late for others.”

The yawn Cobb forced for show became quite real before it ended. “I slept in the office. Actually, above it.”

“Now, why’d you go do a fool thing like that when you can bed down here?”

“There was a little disturbance last night around the Stillwell place. By the time I finished up with that, it was late. Stopped in the office and never left.”

Walt set his bucket down and leaned on his broom. “What kind of disturbance? We got reason to be worried?”

“No, no reason. I was either chasing shadows or children. Couldn’t catch either.”

“Probably Rabbit and Finn.”

“That’s what Evelyn said. I didn’t get a good enough look.”

“I’ll have a talk with the boys,” said Walt. “No reason to mention it to their granny or pap.”

“I’m not saying it
was
the boys.”

Walt nodded. “Just the same, it never hurts to have a talk with them. The Stillwells are right next door to Miss Morrow. Could be they were making mischief for their schoolteacher. Boys will do that.”

By the time he left Walter to his chores, Cobb was feeling a little sorry for Rabbit and Finn. He was feeling a little guilty, too. He decided he would find a way to make it up to them. Maybe new whittling knives would salve his conscience.

Cobb intended to go straight to his room to bathe, change his clothes, and beg for his breakfast afterward. He passed the entrance to the dining room without glancing in and had a foot at the bottom of the staircase when he heard his name. He had no difficulty recognizing the voice behind it. Swearing under his breath, Cobb backed up until he could see into the dining room. Andrew Mackey was half out of his chair, waving him over.

Cobb went.

“Join me, Marshal,” Mackey said.

Cobb noted that although Mackey was smiling, there was more command than invitation in his tone. Mackey was already pushing out a chair as Cobb approached. Cobb put up a hand to stop him. “I was on my way to my room, Mr. Mackey. I’m going to eat later.”

“They won’t take breakfast to you. I learned that. Eat now or go hungry.” He nudged the chair with his toe. “Have a seat. The pancakes are good.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cobb could see there was some attention being paid to this exchange. He elected to sit. When Cil appeared carrying a pot of coffee, Mackey waved her over before Cobb could stop him.

“Pancakes for the marshal,” said Mackey. “Coffee, too.”

Feeling contrary, Cobb said, “No cakes. Steak and eggs.” He pushed his empty cup toward Cil. “I’ll take that coffee though.” She tipped the pot over his cup.

“More for you, Mr. Mackey?”

Andrew nodded, thanked her. When she was gone, he said, “That young woman is very accommodating.”

“She’s kind to everyone.”

“Yes, I’m not surprised that’s your perspective.” He cut another triangle out of his stack of hotcakes and dragged it through the syrup at the edge of his plate. “When I didn’t see you earlier, I asked that rather large gentleman who works here where I could find you. He said you hadn’t come down yet, but I could tell he didn’t know where you were.”

“It’s not one of Walt’s jobs to keep track of the guests.”

“But you’re not precisely a guest any longer, are you? I thought as marshal that you would be more accountable to the people you serve.”

Cobb chose not to engage Mackey in a senseless argument. He decided to force his hand. “Why did you call me over? What do you want?”

“Certainly not the pleasure of your company.” He set his fork down, wiped his lips with his napkin, and then picked up his coffee cup. “I wondered if you’d thought anymore about what I said last night. You seem to be relatively reasonable. It occurred to me that you might have reconsidered.”

“Reconsidered what exactly?” He watched Mackey’s lips thin in annoyance. “You said a number of things.”

“Do you really want to try me, Mr. Bridger?”

“I don’t work for you any longer. I remember that quite clearly.”

“I admit to having no influence here,” said Mackey. “But if it’s your intention to work in Chicago again, I think you’ll want to tread more carefully.”

“Already making a note of it.”

Mackey frowned slightly. There was more meaning in the silence that followed Cobb’s response than in the answer itself. “You
do
intend to take up work in Chicago, don’t you?”

“I like it here.”

“Then you’re not leaving?”

“Not now. I believe I said that last night.”

“Even if Miss Morrow leaves?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Exactly what I said.”

“Are you under the impression that she has something to do with my decision to stay?”

“Doesn’t she?”

“She’s the reason I have this job,” said Cobb, shrugging. “I owe it to her to stay put for a while.”

“And if she goes?”

“I don’t see that it matters.”

Mackey’s study was shrewd. “And I don’t believe you.”

“All right.” Cobb raised his hands to take his warm plate of steak and eggs from Cil. “No more coffee,” he told her, setting the plate down. “Smells good. Be sure to tell Mrs. Sterling I said that. I keep getting on the wrong side of that woman’s good humor.”

“Oh, that’s just Ida Mae, Marshal. She likes you fine.” She started to leave, stopped, and spun on her heels to face Cobb again. “I forgot. I saw Mrs. Stillwell on my way to the Pennyroyal this morning. She mentioned there was a little excitement at her place last night. Were you chasing someone?”

“I thought I was.”

“She wouldn’t say who, but I figure she was talking about Rabbit and Finn.”

“I can’t say. I don’t have any proof.”

“Just the same, I wanted you to know I agree with Mrs. Stillwell that it’s real nice having someone like you looking out for the town. Even if it was just the boys, it’s still nice to know.”

“Thank you, Cil. Do you suppose she’s going to be telling everyone that today?”

“Most likely. Why?”

“Because people will suspect the Collins boys, same as you, and I don’t think that’s fair to them.”

Cil dimpled as she smiled. “If it’s proof you want, I guess you’re just going to have to run faster next time.”

Chuckling, Cobb waved her off.

Andrew Mackey’s stare followed her all the way to the kitchen door before coming back to Cobb. “Is she always so friendly with you?”

Cobb did not look up from cutting his steak. “Asked and answered. Miss Ross is always friendly. Period.”

“She seemed something more than merely sociable.”

“I didn’t notice.” He put a bite of steak in his mouth. “Is there a particular reason you thought it was important to comment on it twice?”

“I wondered if she was yet another reason why you are set on staying.”

Cobb swallowed and stabbed one of the sunny egg yolks on his plate with his fork. Tearing off a corner from a heel of bread, he swabbed the yolk with it. “How long do you expect to be in town, Mr. Mackey?”

“As long as it takes to conclude my business.”

“Do you intend to press charges?”

“Pardon?”

Cobb glanced up sharply. He did not doubt that Mackey had heard him, so what was it about the question that had caught him off guard? “Charges,” he said again. “For the theft of your property.”

“I haven’t decided.”

“That
is
your business, isn’t it? Taking back what Miss Morrow stole from you?”

“It is.”

“Well, you might want to reconsider trying to run me off. I’m the only one in Bitter Springs with the authority to arrest her.” He returned his attention to his meal. “And I’m going to need something more than your say-so to do that. Not only will you have to produce whatever it is that you say she took, you will have to prove to my satisfaction that it belongs to you.”

Andrew Mackey knuckled his neatly trimmed beard. “And if I decide I don’t want to have Miss Morrow charged?”

“You still have to claim your property. I suppose you could steal it back and sneak right out of town. That’d create the least amount of fuss. If Miss Morrow wanted it returned, the burden of proving ownership would rest with her.” He looked up again, thoughtful. “But then I’m telling this to someone who knows all about the law. I’ve been studying Wyoming Territory law myself since I took this job, right along with the town ordinances. I would imagine that most of it would be familiar to you. Women have more rights here, of course, but you probably were already aware of that.”

Mackey nodded. “Suffrage.”

“That’s one of them.” Cobb finished off the last of his steak. “You could make this easier if you’d tell me what Miss Morrow is supposed to have taken. If you don’t tell me, it’s more difficult to support your claim.”

“I don’t care about difficult. I care about confidences.”

Pushing away his plate, Cobb asked, “What did Miss Morrow have to say?”

“Say?”

“When you asked her about the—” He stopped. “Oh. I see. You haven’t confronted her. That’s probably wise.”

“I think so, but why do you?”

“You want to lull her. Catch her unaware. Patience always serves a predator.”

“I’m not sure I care for the characterization.”

“If the sheep’s clothing fits.”

Mackey frowned deeply. “How is that again?”

Cobb waved the question aside as he stood. “Good day, Mr. Mackey. It’s unlikely that we won’t see each other around, but unless you have a crime to report, keep in mind that I’m not at your beck and call.”

* * *

Snow started falling in the afternoon around the time the children were being released from school. Cobb stepped out of his office to see if he could catch Rabbit and Finn before they headed home, but they were either staying after school with Tru or had been among the first to race off. He heard from no fewer than five people after Cil had spoken to him about what was now being referred to as the ruckus at the Stillwell place. Cobb was not confident that the boys weren’t running home to trouble.

He was debating whether he wanted to walk over to the school to see if they were still there when he saw Andrew Mackey, head down and shoulders huddled against the cold, hurrying in that direction. He stayed outside long enough to verify that Mackey’s destination was the school and not the bank or the hardware store. When Mackey stepped inside the schoolhouse, Cobb returned to his desk, dragged the heavy law book he was reading onto his lap, and tipped his chair back on its rear legs. He was not entirely convinced that doing nothing was the same as doing the right thing, but he did know that Tru would not thank him for interfering at this juncture.

Glancing at his pocket watch, Cobb decided he could wait half an hour before he wandered over to the school on the pretext of looking for Rabbit and Finn.

* * *

Tru was sweeping mud from under Sam Burnside’s desk when Andrew Mackey arrived. When she looked up, he was already pulling the door closed behind him and kicking at the floor as he brushed snowflakes from his overcoat. She wished he had not come, but more than that, she wished she had asked one of her students to help her with Friday chores.

She paused, straightening, and greeted him politely if not warmly. “Andrew. How surprising.”

“A welcome one, I hope.”

“If you’re here to help, then certainly.”

Mackey glanced around. “I came by to walk you home.”

“That’s kind of you, but I’m not ready to leave.” She began to sweep again, this time more slowly.

“That’s all right. I don’t mind waiting.” He saw the hooks by the door and removed his coat and brushed felt bowler. He stuffed his leather gloves into the pockets of his coat. “Shall I get a dustpan?”

“Thank you.” Careful not to show her astonishment, Tru pointed behind her. “In the closet.”

Mackey went to get it. “Isn’t there someone else who could do this?”

“I’m not sure who that would be. The schoolhouse is my responsibility.”

He found the dustpan and carried it to Tru. When she didn’t take it from him, he hunkered in front of her and held the pan steady while she swept dust and clumps of mud onto it. “Don’t you have any troublemakers to punish with these tasks?”

“Not today.” She swept the last of the debris onto the dustpan and pointed Mackey to the front door. “Empty it outside. This is the worst of it, but I still have to sweep the rest of the classroom.”

Without a word, he did as she asked and then returned to help with the other piles of debris she accumulated from around the room. On his last trip out to empty the dustpan, he asked, “What about those two boys who drove the buckboard yesterday? The station agent’s grandsons, I believe.”