Phoebe turned to share a smile with Anna, who bounced in the saddle, making the mule’s ears go flat. “Mr. Murphy said that while we were staying with you’uns, we could read his newspapers for free. And you won’t believe what we found!”
Betsy’s throat tightened and her already burning eyes went even drier. “What?”
“The most engaging article. Mother was reading to us from the Fayetteville paper after supper last night, and she came across a story that, if I didn’t know better, sounded just like Deputy Puckett. It was even set in Pine Gap. Just imagine!”
This couldn’t be. “Fayetteville? Are you sure it wasn’t the Kansas City paper?”
“We wanted to read the Kansas City paper, but someone had gone and cut it to shreds, so we took up the Fayetteville one. Besides, it had to be Fayetteville, because how would they know about the darkly handsome Texas deputy Eduardo Pickett all the way in Kansas City?” Anna squealed. “Pickett? Can you believe even their names are so close?”
“What is our deputy’s first name, anyway?” Phoebe asked. “Do you know?”
“Why would you think it’s him?” Betsy caught the bridle of their mule to hold them still. “He hasn’t saved a child from the well, has he? It can’t be him.”
Anna piped up from over her sister’s shoulder. “Your uncle is a better writer than I thought. The way he describes the Dashing Deputy, I can just see him riding that white horse—”
“Deputy Puckett’s horse is black,” Betsy interrupted.
“And wearing that big hat and boots and the shiny belt with all the bullets around his waist. And the way he smiles . . .” She frowned. “I can’t imagine him smiling like that for your uncle Fred, though.”
This was a disaster. Sure, Betsy knew what syndication was, but she hadn’t counted on the article showing up in any of the other papers her uncle got. Was her uncle the only one in Pine Gap who got that paper? She tried to remember who else had family from Arkansas. Who else would have reason to stay informed?
“We’d better get to school,” Anna said.
“Yeah, maybe at recess we’ll see him outside. See you later, Betsy,” Phoebe said. “If you see Eduardo, tell him we send our best.”
Betsy covered her forehead with a tired hand. What had she done? By dinnertime the schoolyard would be full of giggling girls all swept off their feet by the charming man she’d created. She’d made a mistake, but was it too late to keep herself from making another?
Finding her second wind, Betsy strode back to the post office. It was the work of a minute to convince Postmaster Finley to dig her envelope from the outgoing mailbag. It might be the work of an hour to get him to return it.
“Looks like you’ve had a change of heart,” he said. The envelope dangled from his fingers, just out of grasp. Act impatient and he’d be bound to take his time handing it over. Instead of reaching for it, she rubbed the back of her neck.
“I just can’t make up my mind,” she replied.
“That’s precisely what’s ailing you, Betsy. If’n you would act a bit more interested in the fellows, you might catch yourself a husband. There’s still Cross-Eyed Carl—”
As he was gesturing out toward Carl’s farm, the letter swept in front of her. Quick as a rattler, she snatched it out of his hand and eased away from the counter. “Thank you, Mr. Finley. I’m beholden to you.”
Not appreciating that he’d been bested by a woman, Finley swiped his bare hand over his counter with a petulant pout. “Just as well. That Kansas City beau was probably having second thoughts about you, too.”
Betsy was having second thoughts about everything—mostly about her own culpability in regards to Joel’s story.
Who else knew?
Chapter 31
Joel stood at the door of the jailhouse, hands folded before him, as Josiah walked out of the building, babe in arm, and helped Katie Ellen into the wagon.
“Don’t mean to run you off,” Joel said, “but having an injured man in the nursery can’t be pleasant.”
Josiah wrinkled his nose in an expression that recalled his sister. “Have you had any word from Fowler?”
“Not this morning. How about you? Have you heard from him?”
The weightiness of the question wasn’t lost on Josiah. “I was here all night, Deputy. Here with my wife and my baby. And there’s no way I’d go out toward home while leaving my ma in charge of the young’uns. If she found out I’d left her to tend them while I was gallivanting around, she’d skin me alive.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Someone was guilty, and Joel couldn’t let family connections get in the way of his investigation.
“You’re wasting your time.” Josiah looked up the road toward his uncle’s house. “Does Betsy know about Sheriff Taney?”
Holding his baby with its fragile little hand gripped around his pinky finger, Josiah was the picture of innocence. Joel would take it for what it was worth and assume that Josiah didn’t know about his sister’s nocturnal ramblings, either.
“She knows. I’m going to check on her this morning.”