The Western Chronicles
by B L Miller and Vada Foster
41 Betrayal
Rebecca’s father sat at a table in the saloon by a window that commanded a view of the Mercantile that also served as the post office for Tahlequah, Oklahoma. One hand tightly grasped the bottle of bourbon that had been his constant companion since his arrival in town three days ago, and the other methodically creased a piece of paper until it threatened to fall apart. It didn’t matter; he knew every word on that paper by heart. It was a letter that read:
Dear Katie
I wanted to write and let you know that I am well. I am traveling with Josie Hunter – yes, the outlaw we used to read books about. But believe me, she is nothing like those books make her out to be. She can be very kind and caring, and I have seen her risk her life many times to help others, including me. I can’t tell you how many times she has saved my life, and I refuse to believe that such a person is guilty of all the crimes she has been accused of. One day I hope to help her clear her name; it is the least I can do for all she has done for me.
She is taking me to Tahlequah Oklahoma to meet a real Medicine elder. I want to learn the healing arts, and the Cherokee’s, who are her father’s people, are very skilled in that area. We hope to be there in another two weeks or so, and I would love it if you would write to let me know how you are doing - you know what I mean. I will check the general delivery when we arrive in town, and as often as possible after that until I hear from you. Please don’t mention this letter to Ma, as I am afraid she will say something to Pa, and I don’t want him to know I am with Josie. He would not understand, and I am afraid he might try to do something to get me back. And much as I love you and Ma, Katie, I can never live under a roof with him again. I just pray that he does not hurt you like he hurt me, and hope you find yourself a nice fellow that will treat you with the kindness and gentleness you deserve; like Josie treats me, even though she is a woman.
I love you, little sis. Be well
Rebecca
Caleb gritted his teeth and poured another slug of whiskey into his glass. He could just picture how that bitch was treating Rebecca with "kindness and gentleness", and the image made his blood boil. He had heard about women who kept after other women, and they were an abomination in the eyes of the lord. He planned to drag Rebecca back to Chancetown – bound and gagged, if need be, but not before he collected the reward on the head of Josie Hunter. He smiled at the good fortune that caused him to go into town to collect the letter that was intended for his daughter. Normally the girl would run errands in town while he sat in the bar drinking up what little profits he was able to eke out of running the farm. But both Katie and Sarah were down with the flu when Caleb ran out of liquor, which was about the only thing he went to town for these days. At Sarah’s request he stopped in the mercantile to pick up a few items, and the proprietor had handed him the letter for Katie, knowing he was her father. From the moment he read it, he knew what he had to do. Within a couple of days he was on his way to Oklahoma, already planning how he would spend the thousand-dollar reward.
"Wait, wait, stop!" Rebecca called as their wagon rumbled almost past the mercantile. Josie reined in the horse thinking that Rebecca had seen something in the road that she was about to run over.
"What is it?" She asked, her eyes scouring the area in front of the wagon for the source of Rebecca’s excitement.
"Oh, sorry…I didn’t mean to make you think something was wrong. I just need to stop into the mercantile for something. Can you wait a minute?"
"Actually I need to pick up some grain at the feed store. You go ahead and shop and I’ll come back for you in a little while."
"Okay," Rebecca said brightly, jumping down from the wagon and hurrying into the store. Josie gave the reins a jingle and Flossy trudged down the road.
Caleb almost didn’t recognize Rebecca; she seemed taller, healthier, and more robust than the girl he remembered. Living on the road seemed to suit her; or perhaps it was the attentions of the outlaw that caused her to look so content. His nostrils flared as he visualized the two women together, and in spite of his firm belief that what they were doing was a mortal sin, he could feel himself growing aroused at the mental image. He got unsteadily to his feet; he had been drinking almost steadily for several days, and even he had a limit. Holding his hat in front of the erection he could not quite will away, he lurched out the door and across the street, praying that the outlaw would not show up too soon and spoil his plans.
"I’m looking for a letter addressed to Rebecca Cameron care of general delivery," she was saying to the gray-headed woman behind the counter. The woman smiled and turned toward a stack of mail behind her in a wooden box.
"I sure don’t recall anything with that name on it," the woman said over her shoulder, "and I usually remember when I get something for a name that’s not familiar."
"Don’t waste your time," Caleb growled from behind Rebecca, causing the young woman to jump and turn toward him. Involuntarily she brought her hands up to shield her face before she realized he was not going to strike her. Not at that moment, anyway. "There ain’t gonna be no mail there for little Rebecca, ‘cause little Katie never got her letter." He wagged the grimy creased paper in front of Rebecca’s face.
"P-Pa," she stammered, "What are you doing…"
"Never mind," he said, cutting her off in mid sentence. He grasped her arm with a grip like a steel band, and began to propel her across the floor toward the door. The hapless clerk behind the counter looked on, uncertain what to do. Clearly this was a domestic quarrel of some kind and she would do well to keep her nose out of it, her husband would say. "There’s gonna be a tall half-breed iron totin’ woman coming in here looking for this little gal. When she does, tell her that Rebecca will meet her down to the sheriff’s office. And don’t mention that you seen anyone with her, or I’ll make you right sorry you did."
"I…I…" The woman began, but before she could form a sentence, the pair were out the door.
Josie could not imagine what possible errand had taken Rebecca to the sheriff’s office. The woman in the mercantile said only that she was to meet her there. She opened the door to the office and spotted Rebecca sitting in a chair with an older man beside her. His hands were placed possessively on Rebecca’s shoulders, and Josie instinctively began to grab for her gun. At that same moment, Rebecca called out "Josie, don’t…" And a gun butt caught her at the base of her skull, causing her to sink lifelessly to the floor.
When she regained consciousness she was lying in a cell on a cot that reeked of urine and god knew what else. Her head pounded, and her exploring fingers found a substantial goose egg on her head. The fingers came away sticky with blood, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Gingerly she sat up and tried to focus on what was going on in the outer office. She could not see anyone, but she could hear voices, one of them Rebecca’s.
"…go of me! If you’ve hurt her, I swear…"
"Simmer down," said a male voice with a youthful tone to it, probably belonging to the sheriff. "I just knocked her out to keep her from killing your father. She’ll be all right." Definitely the sheriff then; the man standing with Rebecca had not been wearing a star… Suddenly it registered on Josie that the sheriff had said the older man was Rebecca’s father. The man who had beaten his daughter so bad she felt running away with a known outlaw was preferable to staying in his home. The man she had once vowed to kill if she ever found herself in the same place as him. Her face flushed with anger as she listened to the words that spewed forth from the abusive drunk.
"Shoulda killed her, sheriff. Reward’s good dead or alive, and dead is a lot safer with that one. Mean as a snake, she is. And corrupted my daughter to boot. She ain’t hardly fitten for marriage no more. I’ll end up havin’ to support the lazy…"
"Take your hands off me!" Rebecca’s voice broke into her father’s venomous diatribe. Josie’s frustration at not being able to see what was taking place in the office and intervene doubled with each moment. She paced in her tiny cell, her eyes searching for a chink in the stone so she could dig her way out, or a loose bar that she could pry free and use to…what, she thought bitterly. Bludgeon that snake to death? Not likely he would get within arms reach of her, and certainly the sheriff would do more than hit her on the head if she did what she truly wanted to do. Killing for the sake of killing was not her way. She had killed countless men, but only those who would have killed her if she had not. Or those who threatened to do harm to someone she cared about. She knew she could kill Rebecca’s father in a heartbeat and feel no remorse whatsoever. She was surprised to feel tears running down her face, tears that sprung from her fear of what would become of the woman she loved when they hung her. And she had no doubt at all that they would hang her, and this time there would be no bumbling lynch mob walking away without first making sure she was dead. Her thoughts were interrupted once again by the voices outside her range of vision.
"Mr. Cameron, I’ve got another empty cell right next to Josie I can put you in if you don’t leave this young woman alone."
"She’s my daughter. I have the right…"
"You have no rights!" Rebecca’s voice rose in anger. "Whatever rights you had you gave away when you beat me. A father should never hurt his children. A father…" Her voice trailed off, and Josie’s heart broke as she heard Rebecca begin to sob. ‘Oh, sprite, don’t let him hurt you anymore,’ she prayed.
"All right, that’s it Mr. Cameron. You take yourself on out of here and sober up. If I catch you bothering your daughter again I promise I will lock you up. Those cells are pretty small and close together and I can’t be watching Josie every minute, if you get my meaning." Josie found herself admiring this man who had clubbed her on the head. In other circumstances she was sure they could have been friends. But at least she did not need to worry quite so much about Rebecca while she was in Tahlequah, as the sheriff would protect her.
"But my reward," Caleb whined, but the sheriff cut him off.
"You’ll get your reward when they ship her back to the states," the sheriff replied. "I looked into it when you told me a few days ago she was coming to town, and Miss Hunter is not wanted for any crimes in Oklahoma Territory. Circuit judge will be here next week and will decide whether to send her back to the states or not, and you can whine at him about your reward. I’m sick of listening to you. Now move on." Josie could hear some mumbling which she assumed was Rebecca’s father protesting, but a moment later she heard the door slam and it was quiet in the office. Josie heaved a sigh and sat back down on the sagging bunk.
"Thank you, sheriff. I’m grateful for your help," Rebecca said sincerely. "Can I see Josie now?"
"Sure, Miss Cameron. Follow me." A few moments later the sheriff rounded the corner leading into the area where the cells were located with Rebecca a few paces behind him. Josie stood and walked to the front of the cell and extended her hands through the bars. Rebecca elbowed past the sheriff and ran to the cell, grasping both of Josie’s hands and kissing her quickly on the cheek.
The sheriff turned to walk out of the room. "Sheriff, wait," Josie called to him and he turned around. "Thanks. For taking care of Rebecca." Now that she could see him, she understood why she had felt an affinity for the man. He had the look of a Cherokee. Unless she missed her guess he was a half-breed like herself. And the Cherokee’s took care of their own.
"No problem," he said with a grin. "I’m just sorry I had to club you on the head when I did, but I was afraid you were going to shoot him. The man’s an ass, but I couldn’t let that happen. And you can believe that no harm will come to Miss Cameron while she’s in my town."
"I believe you. And I’m sorry you had to club me, too. My head hurts like hell." He shrugged as if to say, "what could I do?", and she couldn’t help but smile at him. "Do you suppose we could have some privacy here?" She asked, and he nodded.
"I’ll be in the office if you need anything," he said, then he turned and left the room.
Both women stood there for several moments after he left, not speaking, their fingers twined together through the bars. Then both of them began to speak at the same instant.
"Let me see…"
"Rebecca, how…"
"…your head. Turn around and let me see." Josie did as she asked, and Rebecca gasped at the size of the bump on her head.
"I’ll be all right," Josie said turning back around to see the look of horror on Rebecca’s face. "It’s stopped bleeding already. Don’t worry. Rebecca, how did he find us?"
Rebecca’s lip trembled and she looked as if she might burst into tears. Josie reached out through the bars and caressed her cheek, crooning softly as she did. "Shhh, baby, it’s all right. Don’t cry." Rather than comforting her, Josie’s words seemed to push Rebecca over the edge. Tears began to course down her face, and when she tried to speak her voice came out in ragged gasps.
"I-I…wrote…to my s-sister," she sobbed. "I told her where we were g-going. I just wanted to know…she was all right, and to let her know I was happy. Oh, Josie, I never thought he would pick up the mail. He never does. I’m so sorry, Josie…"
It had never occurred to Josie that Rebecca had betrayed her, however innocent her motives had been, and for a moment she was shocked into silence. The look of agony on Rebecca’s face pierced straight into the outlaw’s heart and pulled her from her silent contemplation. Once again she reached out to comfort the woman she loved, and Rebecca seized her hand. Josie smiled and kissed the back of Rebecca’s hand.
"Don’t blame yourself," Josie said softly. "You meant no harm."
"Oh, Josie, what are we going to do? If they send you back to the states, they’ll hang you. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I don’t want to live without you…"
"Don’t talk like that," Josie said more harshly than she had intended, and Rebecca fell silent and simply stared at her. "If something…if they do send me back, I want you to promise you’ll go to Charles’ place. You’ll be safe there, and he and Horace love you."
"I’m not leaving you," Rebecca said firmly. "If they send you back, I’m going to be right beside you. You can’t bully me, Josie Hunter. I’m in this till the end."
Josie could tell from the set of her jaw that there would be no arguing with the younger woman. Her one hope for getting out of this mess without a pine box for a bed would be if they could convince the judge not to extradite her. And Rebecca’s gift with words might just be the thing that would do the trick. "You’re a stubborn woman, Rebecca Cameron. And by God, that might be just what we need." She reached through the bars and put her hand behind Rebecca’s head, pulling her in for a kiss.
It was several hours later when Rebecca emerged from the cellblock. Josie’s headache had worsened while they were talking and she thought if she could get some sleep it might help. Almost as soon as she laid her head down she was asleep. Rebecca watched her sleep for several minutes before she tore herself away, knowing that there were many things to do before the judge arrived and nobody to do it but herself.
The sheriff was not in the office when she came out and instead a deputy sat behind the desk. He barely glanced at her as he was busy cleaning guns. It reminded her of the evenings she and Josie spent while the outlaw did that same thing, and she felt a gripping in her chest like a vice around her heart.
"Excuse me," she said to the deputy, who finally looked up from his labors and blinked a couple of times to find a beautiful young woman standing before him. "I wonder if you can tell me where the sheriff has gone?"
"Uh, yes ma’am," he said, tipping his hat in respect. "He’s gone off to get himself a bite to eat. Should be back directly, or you can find him over to Miss Lucy’s diner. He’ll be bringing something back for your…for the prisoner to eat."
"Thanks," she said with a smile. "I better go help him with his food choices for Josie. She’s…particular."
"Yes, ma’am," he said with a nod, and resumed cleaning the weapons.
The sheriff saw her walk through the door, and from the way her eyes were searching the crowd, he figured she was looking for him. He stood up and waved to catch her eye, and she smiled and walked toward him. He remained standing as she approached, pulling out the chair opposite his. "I’d be honored if you would join me," he said sincerely. Rebecca had been so concerned over Josie that she had not even realized how long it had been since she had eaten. She was indeed quite hungry, and her stomach growled loudly as he finished speaking.
"I…thank you again, sheriff. You are very kind. I believe I will." She allowed him to scoot her chair under the table and then he went to fetch the waitress before resuming his seat.
"She’ll be right here, Miss Cameron."
"Call me Rebecca, please. Just now I’m not so crazy about the name Cameron."
"All right, Miss…Rebecca," he said catching himself and smiling sheepishly. "I’m John Kenwood. I’d be pleased if you’d call me John." The waitress appeared by Rebecca’s side and ran down the list of specials available, adding that the roast beef was some of the best in the entire territory.
"That sounds good," Rebecca said with enthusiasm.
"And put together a plate of that for us to take with us," John added, then quickly turned to Rebecca and asked, "That is if you think that will meet with Josie’s approval."
"Oh it’ll meet with her approval all right. We’re used to eating what we can catch on the road, and beef is a rare treat." The waitress withdrew to give the orders to the cook, and for the first time Rebecca noticed that John’s own plate of food was sitting, cooling, on the table in front of him. "Please, John, eat your food while it’s still hot."
"Oh, I don’t mind eating my food cold. Tell you the truth, I probably prefer it. I’ll just wait until she brings your food. Maybe you can tell me a bit about how you came to be traveling with the notorious outlaw Josie Hunter while we wait."
Rebecca had sensed from her first meeting with the gentle sheriff that he was a man she could trust. She folded her hands on the table in front of her and began her story. "It all started when I was grabbed by three thugs intent on raping me. But they didn’t reckon on Josie Hunter being within hearing range of my screams…"
Rebecca pushed her plate away and politely declined the waitress’ offer of another cup of coffee. She felt as if she would burst if she took in another morsel. While they ate, she had summed up the high points of her life with Josie, highlighting the number of times the outlaw had saved her life. The only detail she left out was the fact that she and Josie had become lovers. She did not think that such a personal detail had any bearing on their current problem, which was how to avoid letting Josie be extradited for trial in the states.
When Rebecca was through with her story, John sat there for a few moments deep in thought. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I sure wish it was up to me whether Josie were to stand trial or not. She’d be sitting here with us right now, laughing and drinking coffee." Rebecca glanced toward the empty chair on her right, and felt a stab of pain that what the sheriff had just described was not the reality of the moment. "Josie is something of a…local legend, you might say," John continued. "The Cherokee will tell you that she is responsible for saving more lives than any other person they can name. The money she stole from the railroads she used to buy food and supplies for the Cherokee. According to legend, she never kept any of it for herself. She also helped the Chinamen and coloreds the railroads worked half to death for slave wages. To the white man she’s a murdering thief, but to anyone with skin other than white she is something of a hero. To tell the truth, I was surprised to see her traveling with a white woman."
"I think you should wire the sheriff in Mason’s Gulch and see if you can get him to send you a statement about how Josie saved that town from being sacked. That was an entire town full of white people Josie saved, and all she asked for in return was food for her horse and some salt pork."
"Hm. Good idea. We’re going to need all the help we can get with the judge that’s coming through next week. His family was killed during an Indian raid, and he doesn’t look too kindly on anyone with red skin, or even half red skin like Josie’s."
"Can’t we request another judge?"
He shook his head and said, "I’m afraid not. We only have two judges in the area, and the other one is laid up with a broken leg."
Rebecca lowered her voice and looked intently into the sheriff’s face. "I don’t suppose you might…accidentally leave her cell unlocked one night."
"Oh, Miss Rebecca, I’d like nothing more than to see her free. But I’m sworn to uphold the law, and that means we have to find a way to get her out of there legally." He fell silent when the waitress materialized with a basket containing the food for Josie. Handing her several coins, he rose from his chair and picked up the basket.
"I’m sorry, John. Please forget I asked that. I’m just…desperate to get her out of there. But we’ll do it your way…according to the law. Maybe we can go over the judge’s head and find someone a little more sympathetic. Or at least willing to listen to reason."
The sheriff’s face brightened, and he nodded vigorously. "You’re right. That’s exactly what we need to do, and I think I know just the man." Holding out his hand to assist Rebecca from her chair, he propelled her toward the door, all the while laying out his idea for the next steps to take.
"Josie." Rebecca’s soft voice reached into the darkness that had enveloped the gunslinger and was pulling her toward the light. The pain in her head had lessened, but she still squinted her eyes against the glare of the lantern outside the cell. "We brought you some food. And we have a plan." The enthusiasm in her voice made Josie open her eyes wider, and she was surprised to see that Rebecca was in the cell with her, kneeling on the floor by the cot. The sheriff was nowhere in evidence, but she noticed that the cell door was shut behind Rebecca, and presumably locked. Her plan probably did not include making a break for it.
Josie sat up on the edge of the cot and peeked into the basket on the floor from which the enticing aroma emanated. "Ah, I see. We’re going to blast our way out with…roast beef? Smells heavenly."
"We are not going to blast our way out. We are going to talk our way out, just as you suggested. At least that’s what I am going to try to do. And if that fails, we’re going to blast our way out."
"With roast beef," Josie finished for her. The light-hearted tone in Rebecca’s voice was contagious, and Josie found herself thinking that perhaps the determined little woman could actually pull it off, whatever her clever plan was. "Who is it you’re planning on charming on my behalf?" Josie removed the plate from the basket and began to eat as Rebecca told her about the judge and his hatred of Indians. As she listened, Josie’s spirits dropped along with her appetite, and she set her food aside. "Doesn’t sound like even you could charm a man with that much hatred in his heart," Josie said with a hint of bitterness in her voice.
"Oh, but it’s not him I’m going after. John says the governor is very sympathetic to the cause of the Indians, and he can override anything the judge says as long as we can get him here before you’re sent away. He’s supposed to be a fair and honest man, and John thinks that if we tell him how you gave the money you stole to the people who should have had it in the first place that…"
"Wait, wait," she interrupted the little blonde, placing her hand on her lips to still her. "What’s this I’m supposed to have done with the money, and who is this John who claims to know?"
"The sheriff’s name is John. Didn’t I tell you that? And he said it’s common knowledge that you gave your cut of the robberies to the Indians. Why didn’t you tell me? I always kind of wondered why you never seemed to have any money since you had stolen so much, but I never would have dreamed you…"
"Common knowledge, is it," Josie said with a wry smile. "And I took great pains to try to make sure it was kept secret."
"Why? Why would you want to hide such a kind and generous act?"
"Think about it. Would you accept a gift from someone knowing that what they were giving you was bought with stolen money? Not to mention that the more people who knew, the more likely it was the railroads would find out what had become of their money. At the very least they would take it back, and possibly even come in with guns blazing. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the death of any of my father’s people. Besides, it suited me to have people think that I was no more than a ruthless outlaw. Most people pretty much leave me alone when they find out who I am, and all evidence to the contrary, I really don’t enjoy being called out and having to kill people." She smiled a little sadly and shook her head before continuing, "It’s almost funny. I’ve been given credit for so many robberies over the years that I would have to have been ten people to do them all. Some of them were in places I have never been. I never tried very hard to convince anyone that it wasn’t me because it served my purposes. Now they’ll use those crimes against me as well. Rebecca, even if you can get to the governor, there is nothing you will be able to tell him that will make a difference with that much evidence stacked up against me."
"I refuse to believe that," Rebecca said stubbornly. "I’ll tell him about Mason’s Gulch and Deadwood and all the people you saved there."
"Rebecca, a blind person could see that you love me. How much weight do you think your testimony is going to carry? They would figure you’d lie through your teeth to save me."
"Yes, I’d lie," Rebecca said through tight lips. "I’d do anything I had to if it meant you would go free. But Josie, it’s the truth I’ll be telling, and there are plenty of other people who know it too. We just have to get hold of them. Tomorrow we’re sending out telegrams to everyone you’ve helped and asking them to send in a testimonial for you if they can’t come here themselves by next week. Then I’m going to New Hope where the governor will be dedicating the new City Hall on Thursday, and I’m going to talk to him. And if I can’t convince him, I’ll go higher. As high as I have to. Josie, I won’t let them take you…I can’t."
"The governor is as high as you can get out here in the Territories. And I know you will do as much as it’s humanly possible to do. But please," she grasped Rebecca’s hand and pulled her into an embrace, "don’t get your hopes up too high. And promise me you’ll do what I said…about going back to Charles’ farm." Rebecca opened her mouth to say something but her reply was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. By the time John appeared in front of the cell they were sitting on opposite ends of the cot, both women looking grim but determined.
"I’m sorry, Miss Rebecca, but I need to lock down the prisoner for the night. I’ll have to ask you to leave now." Faced with the prospect of separating from Josie, Rebecca’s face looked stricken. Her feet seemed weighted down with lead as she rose and crossed the tiny cell.
Suddenly her eyes lit on the empty cell next to the one Josie occupied, and she said to the sheriff, "John, can I stay in the cell next to hers? I promise I won’t be a bother."
"Oh, Rebecca, you don’t want to spend the night in a cell," Josie protested. "It’s damp and cold and…"
"If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me," Rebecca said defiantly. She turned to the sheriff and added, "Besides, my father is still out there, and I’m afraid he might try to hurt me. I’d feel safer if I were in here."
"Miss Rebecca it’s really not…" The sheriff’s refusal was dissipated like mist in the wind by the pleading look in the young woman’s face. "All right," he said grudgingly, "but if I should have to lock somebody up I’d have to ask you to leave."
"I understand," she said. "Would it be all right if I get my things from the wagon? I’ll only be a minute." Josie’s face suddenly looked stricken.
"Rebecca, I forgot all about the horses! Flossy has been standing in harness for hours, and neither of them have had food or water since this morning. I expected to be coming right back to the wagon."
"Don’t worry. I’ll see that they’re stabled and fed," Rebecca said reassuringly. John unlocked the cell and Rebecca hurried out. The sooner she attended to the horses the sooner she could be back with Josie. She turned and smiled at Josie before she rounded the corner into the outer office, blew the outlaw a quick kiss, and was out of sight. The brave smile Josie had been wearing to try to keep Rebecca’s spirits up melted from her face, and she sank down onto the cot. With her foot she pushed the plate of barely touched food toward the cell door.
"Might as well take this away. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite." John nodded and opened the door, his hand on his gun in case Josie should try something while he picked up the plate. She gave a bitter little laugh. "Don’t worry, John. I’m not going to do anything. Just promise me you’ll keep that sick bastard who calls himself her father away from her, or I’ll get out of here – whatever it takes – and kill him."
42: New Hope
Rebecca stepped down from the stagecoach and groaned as her cramped muscles protested the long hours of inactivity that had brought her to New Hope, Oklahoma. She had taken a train from Tahlequah to Tulsa where she spent the night in the train depot. Early the following morning she caught the stagecoach, which, after a few other stops, would have her in New Hope by late that afternoon. At least for the last couple of hours she had had the coach to herself and was able to stretch out and take a bit of a nap. But even so, her eyes felt gritty and she knew she must look a fright. As soon as the driver handed her bag down from the top of the coach she made her way to the saloon. A sign in the window boasted rooms to rent, bath included. A bath might make her feel human again. The dedication of the new city hall, whose clock tower was visible from where she stood, was to take place the following day. She didn’t know if the governor was in town already and would not be able to recognize him even if he were, so she planned to approach him immediately after the dedication. There was nothing for her to do until then, so she decided a bath and a good nights sleep would be the best thing in the world next to freeing Josie.
There was a festival attitude in the air the next morning when Rebecca made her way toward the new City Hall. Flags and streamers of colorful paper garlanded every building on Main Street leading up to the impressive new building. It was still several hours until the official dedication, and she decided to stop and get something to eat to stop the rumbling in her stomach. The smells from the café drew her across the street a block away from the City Hall. There was not an empty table to be had, but as she searched the room she saw a table for two with a lone occupant. It was a well-dressed woman perhaps 10 years older than she was, and she was engrossed in reading a newspaper. Rebecca wound through the tables until she was standing near the woman’s shoulder.
"Excuse me, I wonder if you would mind letting me share your table? There doesn’t seem to be another empty seat in the place." The woman looked up and smiled, and Rebecca found herself smiling back. The woman’s eyes were as green as springtime grass with laugh lines creasing the corners. She had dimples that crinkled when she smiled and a scattering of freckles across her cheeks.
"Please do. My husband has eaten and gone off to get ready for the ceremony, and I’d be glad for the company."
"Thank you," Rebecca said, dropping her bag on the floor and sliding it under the table. She held out her hand to shake the other woman’s hand as she sat down. "I’m Rebecca."
"Eugenia," the other woman said. She looked around until she spotted the waitress, and motioned for her to come over. "Would you clear away these plates please and bring a menu for Rebecca. Oh, and a little more coffee for me, please."
"Oh, me too. Coffee. Please." The waitress smiled and returned a moment later with a menu, a cup and a pot of coffee. Rebecca wrapped her hands around the steaming mug to warm them up and regarded her companion in silence for a moment. Something about her struck a familiar chord, yet she was almost certain they had never met. "This place is certainly doing a brisk business for this hour of the day. Is it always like this?"
"I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been here before; we’re in town for the dedication. Is that what brought you here?" Eugenia poured some milk into her coffee and stirred in a spoonful of sugar then sipped the steaming brew.
"No. Well, yes sort of. Actually I came to talk to the governor, but since he is here for the dedication I guess you could say that’s why I’m here too. I don’t suppose you know what he looks like? I’d like to talk to him before the ceremony, if I can."
Eugenia laughed and the sound reminded Rebecca of the ringing of a bright clear bell. "I guess I know what he looks like. He’s my husband." Rebecca nearly spilled her coffee as she banged her cup on the table.
"You’re joking."
"There have been times when I thought our marriage was a joke, but…" Her voice trailed off, and after a moment she smiled again at Rebecca and asked, "What business do you have with my husband, if you don’t mind my asking?" Rebecca decided to tell the entire story to Eugenia and see if she could get her to speak to her husband for her. What incredible luck to find herself with just the person she needed to arrange an introduction to the governor!
"My…" She stopped a second to contemplate how to refer to Josie. Friend just didn’t cover it any more. "My partner is in jail. She’s supposed to go before the circuit judge next week, and he’s going to decide whether to send her back to the states to stand trial for train robbery, among other things. But she didn’t do all those crimes, and she never killed anybody that didn’t need killing. And she gave the money back to the Cherokee’s, and…" Eugenia’s face drained of color and her eyes widened as she listened to the young woman plead for her partner. The moment she heard the word "Cherokee’s" the face across from her at the table faded away, and she was back in a barn beside her best friend as bullets flew through the air around them.
"Eugenia, are you all right?" Rebecca’s voice pierced through her trance and brought her back to the moment. The young woman was holding her hand and lightly rubbing her wrist. "You looked like you might faint there for a moment."
"No, I’m all right. Rebecca, your…partner, what’s her name?"
"Josie Hunter." Eugenia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She gasped in a few shallow breaths and then expelled them before she opened her eyes to once again regard her young companion.
"You know her." It wasn’t a question. Eugenia nodded.
Josie had never mentioned a Eugenia from her past, but then she was pretty closed mouthed about the life she led before they met. Suddenly she knew what was familiar about this woman – Josie had described her so perfectly. She was the one with the dancing green eyes and the infectious smile that had captured the heart of a teen-aged Josie. Even as the thought was forming in Rebecca’s head she realized the impossibility of it, but the words tumbled out of her mouth. "You’re Genie," she said simply.
"Yes."
She stared at Genie, her thoughts miles ahead of her ability to put words together rationally. Finally she managed to stammer, "But how…they told her you were dead."
A small sob escaped from Genie’s mouth before she could stop herself, and a tear coursed down her cheek. "They told me she was dead, too, but not until months after I had recovered from the gun shot wound. So that’s why she…I never understood why she didn’t make an effort to contact me." She scrubbed the tear off her face with the napkin she was holding and her fingers continued to twist the fabric until it was in a tight knot in her hand. She seemed not to notice even as her hands turned white from the effort, and it was not until Rebecca reached across and lightly touched her hand that she realized what she was doing. She smiled at Rebecca and continued. "I told my father what had really happened that night, and he told me she had run away. I think he was afraid I would have a relapse if he told me the truth then, and later…well later he just didn’t want me to know what a coward he was, I think. Anyway, I made sure her name was cleared, and they arrested the men who were actually responsible for the thefts. I was sure she would read about it in the papers and come back. One of the ranch hands finally told me that they - my father – had hung Josie."
Tears ran down her face again as she relieved the horror of the night she learned the truth. She had been so blinded by anger that she had taken a gun from her fathers collection, stormed into the barn where he was working, pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger. There was a hollow click as the hammer fell on an empty chamber. Before she could try to fire again the gun was wrenched from her hand by one of the men working with her father. Without a word of explanation she had turned and run from the barn, going straight to her room to pack up her clothes. She refused to speak to her father when he pounded on her door. He pled with her to tell him what was wrong, but she said nothing until she had her suitcases in hand and was ready to leave. She opened the door to see his shocked face as his eyes took in her obvious preparation for leaving.
"I know what you did," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Genie, I…"
"Don’t bother to try to deny it! You had to know she was trying to help me catch the rustlers. She was my best friend in the world…she would never have done anything to hurt me. And she was not a thief! You killed her because she was an Indian. She was the most decent person I ever knew. I have half a mind to tell the sheriff…"
"Now don’t be hasty, honey, let me ex…" She cut him off and shouldered past him.
"I’m leaving. I’m going to stay with Aunt Stell until fall and then you are going to pay for me to go to school back east. And if I never see you again that’ll be far too soon for me."
Genie took another sip of her now cold coffee. She pushed the cup aside and took a deep breath and continued. "I met William while I was at Vassar. He was a bright young man with a lot of ambition and I knew he was going to be a success. There was never any…great romance between us but he loved me and was at least willing to marry me without a dowry, which I refused to ask my father for. It was after we married that I read about Josie being arrested for robbing a train. I told William I was going to visit a sick cousin in Pennsylvania but I actually went to try to see Josie in jail. By the time I got there she had escaped, and I was never able to track her down. I always thought…if I could find her and tell her she wasn’t wanted for the rustling at my father’s ranch that I might be able to turn her away from the path she had chosen. I blamed myself for her turning to a life of crime. If I hadn’t talked her into trying to fight a bunch of murdering outlaws…"
"Don’t blame yourself, Genie. She went after the railroads because of what they did to her father and her father’s people, not because of what happened to you. There would have been nothing you could do about it."
"I could have talked her out of it. She listened to me; she believed in me."
"She loved you." Rebecca’s heart lurched in her chest as she spoke those words. For the first time it truly sunk in that the woman across from her was Josie’s first true love. The jealousy she had successfully conquered when she believed Genie to be dead reappeared and caught her off guard. She had to force herself not to bite off her next words. "She never stopped loving you."
Genie’s expression changed from one of sorrow for the past she could no longer effect to determination for the future, which she could. She didn’t notice the bitterness in Rebecca’s voice, or if she did she gave no sign of it. "She’s still the best friend I’ve ever had," Genie said sincerely, "and I promise I will help you convince my husband not to let them send her back to the states." The clock in the new City Hall pealed the hour of eleven o’clock. The ceremony was due to start at noon exactly. "We have an hour for you to fill me in on the current situation, and as soon as William is finished with his speech I’ll introduce you to him." She reached over and patted Rebecca on the hand and smiled. "Don’t worry, Rebecca. I won’t let her down this time."
Rebecca and Genie separated a half-hour later so that Genie could freshen up before taking her seat on the platform with her husband. Rebecca went to the telegraph office to send a wire to John and let him know she had succeeded in her mission. The fact that she had not yet spoken to the governor himself did not worry her. She had no doubt that Genie could talk him into pardoning Josie if she had him wrapped half as tightly around her finger as she once had Josie.
She waited in the telegraph office for a reply to her telegram, which read:
JOHN: FOUND THE GOVERNOR STOP TELL JOSIE NOT TO WORRY STOP BACK IN THREE DAYS STOP ANY PROBLEMS? STOP WAITING FOR YOUR REPLY STOP SIGNED: REBECCA CAMERON
The clock had struck twelve and Rebecca was about to walk out the door when the machine began to clatter and the clerk called out to her to stop. Excited, she rushed back to the desk while the rest of the message was received, and the clerk handed her a piece of paper.
REBECCA: JUDGE IS EARLY STOP THREE DAYS MAY BE TOO LATE STOP HAVE GOVERNOR SEND WIRE TO JUDGE STOP URGENT STOP SIGNED: JOHN KENWOOD
Rebecca had to read the message twice before the meaning truly sunk in. The paper fluttered from her fingers as she raced out the door and toward her now more important than ever meeting with the governor.
The morning sun streaming through the bars of her cell wakened Josie. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed her eyes lit on the scraps of paper she had thrown on the floor the night before. One was a wire addressed to the Sheriff from Judge Fellowes saying that his schedule had changed and that he would be stopping in Tahlequah possibly as early as the next day. The other was from Rebecca saying that she had found the governor and Josie was not to worry. John had promised he would do what he could to delay the proceedings long enough for Rebecca to return with something written in the governor’s own hand saying that Josie was not to be extradited. Or even better, if the governor himself would come. She paused in her ruminations and chided herself. According to John, Judge Fellowes was known to be one of the most mule-headed men he knew, and it was not likely he would accept anything less than the governor face to face before he would admit that his authority could be over-ridden. And that he would swiftly decide in favor of her return to the states and make arrangements for her transportation was a foregone conclusion in John’s opinion.
The sound of the door leading to the cells opening and slamming shut resounded through the small area in which she was confined, and was followed by footsteps coming down the hall. She had to smile; the Sheriff invariably made a good deal of noise before entering the room to allow his prisoner time to "get decent" in case she was using the chamber pot.
"You awake, Miss Josie?" He called before he actually came into view.
"Yes," she grumbled. "Me and everybody within a mile of this place, with all the noise you’re making."
"Sorry," he mumbled, "but I figured you’d want to see this." He stood in front of her door with another wire held in his hand. By the look on his face she could tell the news was not good. She took the paper from his hand and glanced at it, then dropped it to the floor with the rest. The judge was arriving that afternoon, and wanted to get the hearing under way immediately.
"Nothing from Rebecca or the governor?"
He shook his head. "No, but I did find out that the school is staging a pageant this afternoon. Since we use the schoolhouse as a courthouse it won’t be possible to have a hearing there. That buys us one more day anyway."
"It’s just postponing the inevitable, John. Tomorrow’s Saturday, which means no school, and no conflict with the hearing. Rebecca won’t be here before Sunday, and by then I’ll be on a train heading east."
Rebecca gazed out the window of the stagecoach where a dust devil gathered a collection of leaves and pieces of tumbleweeds only to scatter them again and move on. Since Josie had been jailed, she felt as scattered as those tumbleweeds. She lowered the flap once again and settled back on her seat. Across from her Genie sat with her head resting against the side of the coach, her eyes closed. Up until a short while before she had been knitting while the two women sat in silence but the rocking motion of the coach had apparently lulled her to sleep. Rebecca took the opportunity to study Genie as she slept. It was easy to see why Josie had fallen for her. If anything, she was prettier than Josie had described. Rebecca’s emotions warred within her. She knew that Josie would be pleased beyond words to find that her friend had survived, and she would not begrudge her that happiness. But at the same time she could not help fearing that Josie might prefer this mature sophisticated woman who once meant everything to her. She felt like a country bumpkin compared to Genie, and she wanted to hate her. But when the coach hit a rough patch of road and Genie woke up and flashed those dimples at her, she couldn’t help but like her. She smiled back.
"Penny for your thoughts," Genie said as she resumed her knitting. So skilled was she that her eyes never left Rebecca’s face, yet her fingers flew as she worked, never dropping a stitch. Genie could tell that something was bothering the younger woman more than Josie’s current plight, and from the occasional looks she saw on her face, she surmised that it had something to do with herself. She wished there was something she could say or do that would allay her fears, but she did not want to assume anything until Rebecca confirmed her suspicions.
"Wouldn’t be money very well spent, I’m afraid. My thoughts are kind of…muddled right now."
"Can I help?" The look of concern on her face and the sincerity in her voice brought tears to Rebecca’s eyes. Genie set aside her knitting and moved from her side of the coach to sit beside Rebecca, grateful that her husband had been able to arrange for a private coach to transport them to the train depot. She put her arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and gently pulled the young woman’s head down to rest on her shoulder. The act of kindness only seemed to make Rebecca cry harder, and she began to sob outright. Genie stroked her cheek with her free hand and lightly kissed her hair as she murmured softly, "Shhh, its going to be all right. Everything will be fine. We’ll get there in time; don’t worry." She continued to stroke Rebecca’s face and hold her until the sobbing stopped and Rebecca pulled away.
"I-I don’t know what I’d do if I…lost her."
"She’s not going anywhere Rebecca. William will be there as soon as he finishes his business, and he promised he wouldn’t let them extradite her before he has a chance to hear her case himself."
"That’s not…the only way to lose her," Rebecca said so softly Genie almost didn’t hear her.
"You love her very much, don’t you?" Rebecca nodded, unable to trust herself to speak without bursting into tears again. Genie took Rebecca’s hand in both of hers lightly caressing it as she spoke. "I love her too, Rebecca. She was the first person to ever make me believe that I could be and do anything I wanted to be. Remembering her strength was what allowed me to pack up and leave my father; I knew Josie would have wanted me to stand up for myself, and I did. Any time I found myself in a tough spot in my life I asked myself, what would Josie do in this situation? And I think I made some very good choices. Marrying William was one choice I was not so certain about when I did it. In my heart I was grieving for Josie, and I almost felt I was being unfaithful without even truly recognizing the feeling for what it was. But as the years went by I grew to love him, even more so after our children were born. He’s such a kind and gentle father. The girls adore him, and so do I. I am where I belong, Rebecca. I will always love Josie, but not the way you do. And if she loves you half as much as I can tell you love her, I’d say the two of you are where you belong also."
"Oh, Genie…you…. I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I feel like such a baby, but I couldn’t...stop thinking about how she looked when she told me about you. She loved you more than anything else in the world. I got jealous just listening to her, and I didn’t even know you were alive. Then I meet you and find that you’re the perfect woman…"
Genie threw back her head and laughed. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. "Perfect woman? Oh darlin’ I am so far from perfect I can’t even see it from here. But thanks for the complement. And the laugh. Thought I was going to bust a gut." Genie’s laughter was infectious and Rebecca found herself joining in. Soon they both had tears of laughter streaming down their faces, and a bond of friendship had been welded that would last through their lifetimes.
Josie formed a mental picture of the judge as she listened to him sputter and argue with the sheriff in the outer office. She pegged him for one of those balding banty roosters with a beer belly and drooping mustaches. He was the type who would cross the street to avoid passing too close to an Indian, and when forced to deal with them as human beings he would look down his long pointy nose with an attitude of superiority. She had known dozens just like that in her lifetime; Genie’s father was a prime example of the breed. The shame of it was that these little petty tyrants frequently rose to positions of authority and power where they could impose their will over people whose only crime was that their skin was not white.
"And I don’t know why you didn’t tell the teacher to cancel that damned recital when you knew I had to be out of town by Sunday," the judge thundered.
"It’s not a recital. It’s the Autumn Festival, and the children have been looking forward to it since school started. Besides, the wire from the governor says we are not supposed to…"
"To hell with that wire, man! For all I know it was sent by that half-breed’s friend." The wire from the governor had shown up no more than 15 minutes before the judge himself. It said that no action was to be taken in the case of Josie Hunter, and that he would review it upon his arrival Sunday or Monday. The judge had planned to be on his way to his next appointment by Sunday, and the thought of being held up by that Indian loving pantywaist just stuck in his craw. He truly believed that the wire had indeed come from William Howe as the sheriff claimed, but he was not about to admit it. And since he had taken the wire from the sheriff, it was his word against that half-breed that there even was such a wire. With luck he could be gone before the governor arrived, after making sure that Josie Hunter was on board the same eastbound train. "You just have the schoolhouse ready for me by 9AM tomorrow, and the first case I’ll be hearing will be Josie Hunter."
Josie heard the sound of the street door slamming followed by John’s footsteps approaching her cell. He didn’t even bother to make the noise he usually did to warn her of his approach; she couldn’t have missed the loud exchange between himself and the judge unless she was deaf as a post. He knew she would be expecting him. Sure enough she stood leaning against the bars, her face an unreadable mask.
"You heard?" She nodded. "He’s a real prince of a fellow, no doubt about it."
"I can tell. John, it doesn’t look much like the cavalry is going to come riding over the hill at the last moment, so I think we need to come up with some alternate plans." She paused and looked into his eyes for a moment and continued, "That is if you still want to keep me from getting my neck stretched."
"As long as it’s within the law, I am up for anything," he responded emphatically.
"Well then, let’s put our heads together and see if we can come up with something."
In her dream she was standing in the pouring rain watching as a group of men constructed a gallows with which to hang her. She was not bound or restrained in any way, yet she knew that running would be pointless. On the top of the platform a stout balding man pulled a lever to release a trap door, and a large sack of grain dropped through the opening and swung from the end of the rope, creaking as it moved in the buffeting wind. The bald man turned and looked at her with a malevolent gleam in his eye and said, "We’re almost ready for you, half-breed." She hadn’t seen him in years, but there was no question as to who he was - Genie’s father.
"I was only trying to help," she protested, knowing that he would not listen. He had never listened.
The man took his eyes off her and glanced toward someone she could not make out in the heavy rain, and he beckoned to the person to come to the platform. "She’s going to swing for what she did to you," he said to the distant figure. "Come and watch." As the figure drew closer she could tell that it was a woman, but she wore a heavy cloak with a hood and her face was completely in shadow. Instead of approaching the platform, the woman turned and walked toward Josie, and the closer she got the more familiar she seemed. When she was almost within Josie’s reach she stopped and took the hood off her head. Light brown curls tumbled out from under the hood, and green eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at the outlaw.
"Josie," the woman said softly as she reached out her hand.
"Genie," she answered tremulously, reaching out her own hand, only to see the landscape and the beautiful vision within it dissolve into the dirty stone walls of her jail cell. The sound of rain persisted even as the dream faded and she realized that she had incorporated the actual rain into her dream, even as she had conjured Genie from her past. But the voice had seemed so real, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she had been able to hold on to the dream for a few seconds more she would have been able to touch her…
"I’m here, Josie."
Josie twisted frantically around on her cot and saw the woman standing outside the bars of her cell. She wore a hooded cape much as the vision from her dream had worn and her face was obscured, but there was no mistaking that lilting voice. But of course that was impossible. Certainly she must still be asleep, even though she could swear she was wide awake. She swung her legs off the cot and stood up, taking the few steps required to bring her close to the bars and the specter that waited for her on the other side of them. She was in no hurry to wake up from this dream.
"I didn’t have any dinner, so you couldn’t possibly be a bit of undigested beef."
Genie laughed and pulled the hood from her head. " ‘A Christmas Carol’, she said as she removed the cape and draped it over her arm. "We took turns reading aloud from that book, remember? Your English accent was terrible."
"And yours was…" Josie’s voice trailed off and her eyes widened. She studied the face of the woman before her, and it was Genie as she would have looked today if she had lived. "You…you’re…I’m not dreaming, am I?"
"No," she said with a shake of her head, her face wreathed in a smile.
"Genie!" Josie cried, reaching through the bars to grasp Genie’s shoulders. She pulled her as close as she could with the iron in the way, and when she realized she was probably crushing her she let go of her shoulders and placed her hands on either side of her face. Without even thinking she brought her lips to Genie’s and kissed her softly. "Oh, Genie I missed you so much." Tears welled up in her eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks. Genie produced a handkerchief from her pocketbook and gently wiped the tears away.
"I wanted to die when they told me you were dead. I almost gave up the struggle when I was dangling from that rope, but I knew you would want me to live, so I fought to free myself. I can’t believe you’re really here. And now… how did you…find me?"
Rebecca watched the reunion of the two friends from the doorway leading into the cell area. She wanted to give them some time alone, even though she ached to take Josie in her arms and make her forget that there was anyone else in the world but themselves. Watching Josie kiss Genie was one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she reminded herself of what Genie had said and forced a smile to her face as she walked into the room.
"I found her. Josie, meet Mrs. William Howe, wife of the governor of the Territory of Oklahoma."
Josie turned toward the source of the voice she knew so well and her smile left no doubt in Rebecca’s mind that even though she may love Genie, her heart was committed only to herself. Josie reached through the bars and said in a husky voice, "Come here."
Rebecca grasped Josie’s fingers and the outlaw pulled her toward the bars. When her face was within reach, Josie put her hand behind Rebecca’s head and pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss she gave Rebecca made the one she gave Genie seem like the kind one might give to a visiting elderly aunt. After several moments, Genie cleared her throat and the lovers reluctantly separated.
"I hate to…interrupt, but 9 o’clock isn’t that far away, and I think we need to discuss our strategy."
"The hell with that," Josie replied. "I want to hear all about you." She raised her voice and called to the outer office, "John, how about some chairs for my guests? We should get comfortable, ladies. It’s going to be a long night."
The judge was working on his third whiskey and was just about to call it a night when the farmer approached his table. The man looked to have had more than his share of liquor, and the judge was about to brush him off as a drunken bar fly when the man spoke.
"S’cuse me, sir. Th’ bartender tole me you’re the judge that’s gonna be decidin’ whether to send Josie Hunter back to the states. Izzat true?"
"True enough," the judge allowed. No point in mentioning that the governor had effectively taken the decision out of his hands. If he could get that half-breed out of town before the governor arrived he would deal with the consequences of his actions later. "What’s your interest in the matter?"
Without waiting for an invitation, Caleb pulled out a chair and sat down across from the judge. "Well, sir, my daughter has fallen under the spell of that she-devil, and I reckon the only way to get her away from her is to make sure that bitch is locked up good and tight. Until they hang her, that is. And I’m the one told the sheriff she was coming to town and got him to arrest her, so I reckon the reward is mine." He held out his hand, which the judge grasped reluctantly; the man didn’t look as if he had bathed in months. "Name’s Caleb Cameron."
"Sounds as if you and I have a common goal, Mr. Cameron. I have no use for Indians, even the so-called "peaceful" ones. And this one is anything but peaceful." The judge twisted the strands of his long moustache as he contemplated how he might use this man to his advantage. "Suppose your daughter is the one Josie sent off to find the governor and try to get him to over-ride my decision. If she shows up in town before I get a chance to rule, I think we need to get her out of the picture."
"No problem. As long as I know I don’t have to stick around here to get my reward, I’ll just grab the girl and head on home."
"You do that, Mr. Cameron. Leave Josie Hunter to me."
When Rebecca woke to find her body spooned around a soft female form she instinctively cuddled closer, wrapping her arm tightly around her partners waist and pulling her toward her. Her nose was buried in the fragrant curls of her hair…and her eyes flew open when she realized the smell was not Josie, but Genie. When they had left the jail in the wee hours of the morning there was only one room available in the tavern, so they had to share. Hoping that the other woman still slept, she gently eased her body to the side of the bed and dropped her feet to the floor. She dressed as noiselessly as possible and after leaving a note to let Genie know she had left for the jail already, she let herself out of the room.
John was speaking to two men in a language Rebecca could not understand when she walked into his office. By the look of their clothes and the language, Rebecca assumed they were Cherokee. She smiled in greeting to them and then sat to wait for John to finish so he could unlock the door to the cells.
"Help yourself to coffee, Miss Rebecca," John said with a nod toward the pot on top of the iron stove. "I’ll only be a few minutes." Gratefully Rebecca poured herself a cup, which she held in her hands to keep the morning chill away. The rain had finally let up some time during the night, but the temperature was unseasonably cold. She stood by the stove and reveled in its warmth. John had to have been here since before dawn to get the stove going and warm up the room as much as he had. Perhaps he had not even gone home after seeing the women safely to the tavern, but had returned to the jail. She was grateful once again for the kindness of this gentle man, without whom she would not have had a prayer of getting Josie out of this mess.
After the men had left, John came to join her beside the stove and refill his own coffee mug.
"Don’t worry Miss Rebecca," he said confidently. "I have a feeling things will work out all right."
Rebecca put her hand on his forearm and gave a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for everything, John. I don’t know what we would have done without your help. If there’s anything Josie or I can do for you I hope you’ll let us know."
He looked slightly embarrassed when she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, and his eyes seemed to be glued to a spot on the floor. Rebecca poured a second cup of coffee to take in to Josie and began to walk toward the cells when John’s voice stopped her.
"Miss Rebecca, I wonder if you’d consider…that is, when this is all over, would you allow me to…call on you?"
Rebecca couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen this coming. Her preoccupation with Josie’s problems had blinded her to the look on his face that was so obvious now. John was such a sweet and kind man and Rebecca could not bear the thought of hurting him.
"Oh, John, that’s very sweet, and I’m honored that you would want to court me. But I’m not…free to see other people. My heart is committed to another."
He had been so taken with the lovely young women and felt so badly for her when her father made the remark about being stuck with her because she was tainted by the company she kept. He had assumed there was no man in her life – mistakenly, it would seem.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I…you never mentioned having a beau, so…"
"That’s because I don’t." She looked at him and said pointedly, "But I do have a lover."
His brow furrowed for a moment as he considered her words, and then comprehension showed on his face. "Oh, of course. I should have realized. I’m not the brightest candle on the tree, I reckon."
"Don’t sell yourself short. If I were in the market for a man, you are exactly the type I would be interested in. And I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who would be proud to walk on your arm."
He simply nodded and walked to the door leading into the cells and unlocked it. He swung the door open for her and stood aside to let her pass.
"I’ll be going to get some breakfast now for Miss Josie. Can I fetch you something as well?"
"I’m not really hungry," she said, surprised to note that it was true. It was rare that she was so keyed up she couldn’t think about eating, but the upcoming court appearance had her stomach tied up in knots.
"Deputy won’t be on duty for another hour or so. I’d be obliged if you would come fetch me over at Rudy’s if something comes up while I’m gone."
"Of course I will. Thanks again, John."