Joel’s blood quickened at the threat. “You are staying out of this.”
“And let you handle it? Come on, Deputy. I don’t think you really want that. You know Scott needs help—help you can’t give because you’re too bound by the law and all. But not us. We can accomplish more.”
“Clive.” Joel swallowed. “We’ve been through a lot here, and so far we’ve both treated each other fair, but listen when I tell you that you cannot get involved. Not unless you want a whole troop of soldiers breathing down your neck.”
Fowler’s face hardened. He was growing more and more intense. “We have to intervene. Don’t you see what they have planned? Sheriff Taney was shot. Scott says he shot someone. What conclusion do you think they’re going to reach?”
Joel’s mind had been dancing around that possibility ever since Scott told his story. Of course that was what they’d assume, but it was more complicated than that. Scott wouldn’t burn down Hopkins’s house. Scott wouldn’t dress like a Bald Knobber.
Except he wanted to be one more than anything. Was there something more at work here? Was Scott telling the truth? What if the sheriff thought he was Fowler and tried to arrest him? What if Fowler wasn’t telling the whole story?
He really, really didn’t want to do what he was fixing to do, but he had no choice. Joel moved back a step. The chair bounced against him, and before it hit the floor, his pistol was in his hand.
“In the cell,” he said.
Fowler raised his hands but eyed him coolly. “Don’t be an idiot, Puckett. You want Scott safe as much as I do. We can get him out of here.”
“I can’t let you do that. Get in the cell.”
“You aren’t going to shoot me.” Fowler lowered his hands with a nonchalance that was convincing. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I will. I don’t want to, but I will.” He’d done it before, but not to someone he respected as much as Fowler. “I’ll nick you, right in the kneecap or maybe the foot. Give you another scar to be proud of. Whatever it takes to save your life, because that Officer Harrison, he’d just as soon shoot you as eat his next meal. Get in the cell.”
Fowler studied him, searching for weakness, but he found none. Joel believed what he said, and Pine Gap couldn’t take another loss. Finally, fuming, Fowler went to the cell. Keeping his gun on him, Joel followed and locked the padlock.
“So you’re going to offer them a sacrificial lamb, are you?” Fowler sneered. “Give them Scott and hope they go away?”
Joel didn’t answer. Fowler wasn’t voicing anything he wasn’t afraid of already.
Chapter 38
What was going on? Her pa, Uncle Fred, and Scott had sailed past the house like they had a strong wind at their backs. They didn’t even stop to explain to her and Sissy where they were going or when they’d return.
Bouncing a slobber-covered infant on her hip, Betsy rested her forehead against the windowpane. She was sick with worry. Sick with uncertainty. She wanted things to be right with Joel. She wanted to apologize over the Kansas City stories, but now she had an even bigger fear.
If only she could roll back the clock—before he knew about the articles, before she knew about the other woman—and enjoy his company. If only her thoughts of him could be unstained by guilt and untroubled by doubts. Were the accusations true? How well did she know Joel?
Sissy came in, drying her hands on a cheesecloth towel. “Dinnertime.”
Betsy bit her lip. She really didn’t want to give up her post. The town was smoldering. Any minute now a flame would flare up, and she wanted to be ready.
There. Down the hill, the two government men left the jailhouse and turned for Mayor Walters’s store. What were they up to now? And where was Fowler?
“Betsy?”
Betsy spun. There was Sissy. What was she doing? And how was it that Betsy happened to have a baby on her hip? “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Let’s eat.’”
“I’m not hungry.” Betsy deposited the baby into her mother’s arms. “Here, I’ve got to go.”
“Betsy,” Sissy warned, “you know how I feel . . .”
And living under her roof, Betsy was obliged to respect her wishes, but respect didn’t mean she had to obey.
“I’m sorry, Sissy, but this is important. You have your kids and your family to take care of. This is my duty, just the same.” While she didn’t change any diapers, she felt as protective of her town as any mother. She’d do what she could to fix this mess.