For the Record (Ozark Mountain Romance #3)

“You want to question me?” Doctor Hopkins said.

“No, it’s Mrs. Josiah Huckabee. She could use your assistance.”

“At the jail?” The doctor’s eyes took a mischievous gleam. “I’m on my way.”

“And don’t bother telling the deputy your troubles,” Fowler said. “I’ll find who burned your house, and I’ll do something about it.”

Joel waited until Doctor Hopkins had left before correcting Fowler. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m not asking permission. I’m just pointing out the obvious, since you seem to be a tad slow. We tried it your way. We held back and nearly got a man killed. You can’t ask us to do that again. While you’ve been playing hide-and-seek, we’ve been collecting information, and we think we know where Bullard’s been hiding. And out of the goodness of my heart, I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. You can ride with the Bald Knobbers and be there when we bring him to justice.”

Joel’s jaw worked. If there were no law on the books, if there were no governor to whom he was accountable, if the only consideration for making decisions was doing what was expedient, then he’d do it in a heartbeat. Most likely, these men would capture the culprit and possibly even produce enough evidence to convict him. The offer would allow him to save face, and in that respect, it was generous. But he couldn’t do it without breaking his convictions. What if they didn’t bring the suspect in alive? What if some of the gang got out of control?

“You aren’t the law, and Miles Bullard hasn’t stood trial.”

Fowler threw his head back and laughed. “You say some funny stuff, Deputy, but you and me both know that if I leave it up to the law, Bullard won’t ever stand trial. The Hopkins family will have to stay in hiding or leave permanently.”

If anyone knew how much leaving one’s home hurt, it was Joel. “I have rules I have to follow, Clive. They might not be expedient, and they might keep me from succeeding, but if I break those rules, then I’ve failed. While I think your offer was generous and made in good faith, I can’t accept. Doing so would be a greater failure than having a house burned down.”

“Fine words, sir. Let’s just hope your lofty morals don’t get someone killed.”

“I’m praying that with every breath,” he admitted. “But I’m not the only one who could compromise. If you know where Bullard is, I’d leave this second to find him.” Why hadn’t he heard back from his telegraphed inquiries? He hated going about this blind.

“But you wouldn’t find him. Have you considered that this might not be a one-man job?”

Joel filled his lungs. He had to stop the Bald Knobbers, especially if the possibility existed that they might be behind the outrage, as Sheriff Taney claimed. “Bringing peace to this place will require the whole community’s cooperation, that’s true. But I won’t ask anyone to put themselves in danger.”

“We’ve lived in danger since before the war. Since before you were old enough to shine those pretty pistols. It’ll always be dangerous here, and the only way to deal with it is to attack first. Why don’t you keep Leland and other drunks off the streets here in town and leave the mountains to us?”

With that he turned his horse and walked it sedately to a group of men who’d been watching the exchange with more than disinterested curiosity.

Feeling like a little boy left behind when the men went hunting, Joel climbed over the fence and headed back to town. Maybe that was all he was good for—policing family feuds, incarcerating tipsy citizens, and finding missing husbands for overwrought wives. In Texas he’d hunted down hardened criminals, so he knew he could face the challenge, but in Texas you knew who the bad guys were. In Garber, people didn’t get dressed up and go out threatening each other at night. This was more complicated than facing bad guys. It was like trying to unravel five different spools of fishing line that’d been knotted, spliced, and retied together. All while getting shot at.

But if the Bald Knobbers were on the move, then they must have information. He’d trail them—that was what he’d do. After dark he’d wait in the woods and follow one of the gang members who wasn’t very alert. Mr. Pritchard, for example.

He’d about reached the jail before he remembered that he might be waltzing into a rather embarrassing scenario. How long would this birthing take? Joel scratched his chin. Was he going to be exiled from his own office all day? Through the iron bars on the windows, he could see people moving, then a light as the back door was opened. Deciding that it might be his only chance to get news, he hoofed it around to the back and found Betsy at the water pump. The way her eyes shined up at him made him forget all the abuse he’d endured at Fowler’s hands.

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