“I’m responsible for myself.” She barred her arms across her chest, and Joel saw the letter again. More secrets? But he had enough on his mind today.
“Betsy, we’re in this together,” he said, “but we have different roles. You’ve got to respect the boundaries I’m setting, or else you’re really not helping. You’re just doing what you want to do with no regard for my position.”
“I know you’re a deputy, but I’m not breaking the law. You can’t force me to stay home.”
“The stakes are too high and it’s too dangerous. If you’ll respect my leadership in this, then there’ll be other adventures we’ll have together.” He bent to catch a glimpse of her down-turned face. “Other much more enticing adventures.”
The letter crinkled in her hand. “That sounds just fine for you. You’re not the one confined to another woman’s cabin, caring for another woman’s family. I need more than that.” Then with a shake of her head, she said, “I didn’t sleep last night. Normally I wouldn’t be this tetchy.” Her chin dropped. “I’m sorry.”
He took her hand, the one not holding the secret envelope. “You’re fine. Get some rest and you’ll feel better.”
She squeezed his hand before leaving. Funny how being able to offer her rest made him feel more rested. And what a paradox to find that because you loved someone, you had to send them away. But as soon as he got this settled, he’d be back.
Because a hero always came back for his lady.
Chapter 32
Since dawn the wind had picked up. Joel buttoned the lower buttons of his coat to cut down on the draft, but on second thought he decided he might want quicker access to his guns. After another night in the mountains, even he could sense that the mood in town had changed. He was tired, his horse was tired, but there didn’t seem to be any rest ahead of them.
Finley hadn’t sent the wires. Only under the threat of arrest yesterday did he finally carry out his duties. Not that Joel expected to hear news of Bullard, but he could leave no stone unturned.
With the perpetual malefactor Bullard unaccounted for, the unease in town was palpable. Sheriff Taney’s accusations against Fowler didn’t help, either. Fowler hadn’t come to town, so either he was lying low or he hadn’t heard that he’d been named. For all Joel knew, half the town might have witnessed the crime. They’d never tell.
In fact, they might all be hiding, because it was nearly noon, and the only people he saw out and about were two strangers waiting for him at the jailhouse. City men, from the looks of them.
The bruiser standing by the door was as thick as a dam and just as solid. He removed his cap and clasped it in front of him. The badge on his vest reflected dully as he came to meet Joel, who dismounted.
“I’m Officer Harrison, sent from Governor Marmaduke’s office. Are you Deputy Puckett?” The cuffs of his new police coat clung tightly to his broad hands. He must have to squeeze his jacket on.
“I am,” Joel said. “Would you like to come inside?”
“We tried to enter earlier, but the doctor refused us,” Officer Harrison said.
Telling Doctor Hopkins to keep everyone out was more for Sheriff Taney’s protection than anything else, but Joel was glad to hear that someone was listening to him. “He was just following orders.”
“Detective Cleveland,” the man seated on the bench said by way of introduction as he got to his feet. He possibly had more years on him than the officer, but he wore them better. Although not overly slim, he looked like the kind of guy who could walk through a rainstorm and not get wet. Like he knew where the next strike would fall and was quick enough to avoid it. And he hadn’t stopped taking Joel’s measure since he’d first ridden into sight. As the officer droned on with small talk about their trip from Jefferson City, the detective studied him.
Joel didn’t like being judged without knowing what the charges were. He ushered the men into the jailhouse and interrupted the officer by saying, “Have a seat.” He didn’t know what they’d come for, but he didn’t cotton to finding out before he’d sent Doctor Hopkins on his way. “I’ll sit with him for a spell,” he told the doctor, nodding at Sheriff Taney’s sleeping figure. “You go home, er . . .” Not home. Hopkins didn’t have a home anymore thanks to him. “Go to Fred’s and get some rest.”
Keeping his head down as if trying to avoid witnessing something unpleasant, Doctor Hopkins closed his bag, buckled it up, and headed straight for the door.
Joel motioned the men to the two chairs in front of his desk, hoping that what they’d come to conversate on wouldn’t wake Taney.
Officer Harrison leaned forward in his chair, anxious to get started. Detective Cleveland seemed content to sit back and observe.
Joel didn’t have time to waste. “I doubt y’all made this trip to sit and gawk at me. What can I do for you?”