“They act like they’re trying to help people, but really they’re just looking for excitement. They want to make a name for themselves instead of letting the authorities handle the mess.”
The paper in Betsy’s waistband crinkled as she leaned forward. Do nothing out of selfish ambition. . . . But she wasn’t being selfish. If she had a job, it would help her family. Already they were short on space, short on food, and it’d only get worse as the children got bigger. And now—now she wanted to publish a serious piece that would put words to the sadness she felt. She wanted everyone to know how she felt living among people who did not value life. These people played with justice like it was a game between two teams, but as everyone kept score by their own reckoning, a clear winner would never be declared.
But would her story help or hurt? And what about Joel?
Before daylight that morning, Sheriff Taney had been delivered to his own personal cell. No reason to cart the old bachelor to his remote cabin when he’d be better served and better guarded in town.
Betsy hadn’t talked to Joel since but figured she’d be better able to cope after catching some shut-eye. While tied to the tree, she wanted nothing more than to leave Joel afoot with a pack of wolves on his trail. She also wanted to be warm in his arms and get more of that mighty fine kissing he’d been doing lately, but he perturbed her, just arbitrarily decreeing when she was allowed to go with him. Maybe he really did worry about her getting hurt. If so, then someday she might forgive him. Truthfully, if she had to be tied up, getting smooched into submission wasn’t an all-out horrible method.
Betsy walked outside, envelope now in hand. The sun glowed a weak gray from behind the thick clouds. She pulled her coat tight and hurried to the post office.
Deputy Puckett had certainly changed his tune about her. He’d gone from rude and hateful to acting like he might learn to care for her. In the time they’d been together, he was always protecting her, always sheltering her, rushing to share the latest event, talking over his plans with her. And she could tell this was something new for him. Not as if he regularly admitted women into the inner sanctum of his company.
Would that change if he knew about her articles? The envelope creased in her hand. At what point did she become beholden to him? At what point did she stand to lose more than she could gain?
She meandered to the post office with the fatigue from the night before dragging at her limbs. A year from now, what did she imagine her life would be like? She wanted her own home. She wanted to spread her wings and get out from under the shadow of her aunt, her uncle, and all the people who would continue treating her like a child. But did she want Joel? Could it be possible that her future involved a strikingly handsome deputy? Could his feelings for her be genuine? Or did he, like Eduardo, have a lady friend in every town?
Postmaster Finley lowered his cup of coffee when she entered and rapped his swollen knuckles against the counter top. “My, you’re up early this morning. Seems like everyone else is sleeping in. Must have been a busy night.” She looked for the red rim around his eyes that went with riding on clandestine missions, but found none. Of course not. Wasn’t Bullard his cousin? Then he wouldn’t be fond of the gang.
She forced a bright smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice her own bloodshot eyes. “I’ve got another letter.” No use in changing course now. Joel would never know, anyway.
He took it, held it at arm’s length, and squinted. “Another one to the Kansas City newspaper? Aren’t you writing them right often?”
Before she could come up with a good excuse for her frequent letters, he cut in.
“You do have a city beau up there working in that office, don’t you?” He waggled his curly eyebrows. “Your uncle introduced you to a real reporter and now is playing Cupid?”
“You know me, Mr. Finley. Been chasing the boys since I could walk.”
“Now you’re just pulling my leg.”
Before he could continue, she hurried outside. She’d just stepped onto the road when she heard her name called.
“Betsy! Yoo-hoo, Betsy!” Phoebe Hopkins waved with one hand over her head as she sat astride her mule. “You slept so late we gave up waiting on you.”
Betsy had to look twice because either she was seeing things or Phoebe had two heads. She really should go back to the house and get some sleep. But upon second look, she could make out Anna riding behind Phoebe with her head on her sister’s shoulder and her arms around her waist.
“Have you seen him this morning?”
Betsy came closer and straightened their lunch pail so it wouldn’t tip over as it rode strapped to the mule’s saddle. “Seen who?”
“Eduardo.”
Her heart faltered. She didn’t remember calling him that in front of the sisters. “Are you talking about Deputy Puckett?”