Chapter Sixteen
“I’M SO SORRY,” ABIGAIL Regis said. “I only just took on someone else to help me. I’m afraid we don’t have enough work for another person.”
“Oh.” Izzy tried not to show her disappointment. Abigail was a long-time resident of the boardinghouse, and the last thing Izzy wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.
Abigail looked at her curiously. “Aren’t you busy with work here, though?”
“I am,” Izzy admitted. “I like to stay occupied.” She didn’t dare say she needed to earn money.
“Well, if I get more laundry than I planned on, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Thank you.” Izzy left Abigail to her washing. It was early afternoon, and the kitchen was empty. Izzy leaned against the wall, trying not to give in to the desperation rising in her heart.
If only Hale had agreed to help her! She’d feared he would be angry with her for keeping her family a secret, and he hadn’t been. He’d been patient and understanding, which was more than she could have asked for.
But he didn’t believe her, not when it came to Papa.
Izzy smoothed back the hair that the wind outside had loosened from its pins. She wished there was a way to make him understand. But when her mind stilled, and she was able to push aside her feelings, she had to admit his opinions made sense.
The evidence was not in her favor.
Izzy didn’t know what the bank account was, or where the money had come from. She didn’t know who would have told the judge about it. It was entirely possible that someone had created it to use as evidence against them.
Or was that too far-fetched?
The thought that Papa had been keeping the truth from them all—that he’d shown such greed and disregard for how hard other people worked—was frightening. It didn’t fit at all with Izzy’s experience.
She had to believe Papa. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. About who she was, who her family was, or why she’d willingly agreed to help when Papa asked her to.
And then there was the not-so-small fact that she hadn’t told Hale that she was the person on that poster in the sheriff’s office.
She’d told herself it wouldn’t matter after the lawyer she hired exonerated her family .
. . But what if she couldn’t raise the money?
How could she continue concealing that from him?
She couldn’t. Not if she wanted him to trust her.
Izzy pushed herself away from the wall. She needed to move, to walk, to do something that would help her muddle her way through this.
She went back out the kitchen door, not wanting to run into Hale.
She hadn’t spoken to him since yesterday.
She’d been angry with him—and she still was to a degree, even if she did understand his reasoning.
It was easier not to say a word to him. Not until she’d figured out how to get the money on her own.
Izzy walked the length of town, passing the church, a few men already in their cups outside the saloon, the depot, and the beautiful hotel on the hill.
And then back up the other side, past the livery stable and smithy’s shop, the hardware store, the little schoolhouse, a number of houses and other shops—
She came to a sudden stop outside Edie’s home as someone stepped down from a wagon right in front of her.
“Sorry, miss,” the man said, tipping his hat at her from around the large crate he had balanced on one arm.
“Isabella!” Edie said from behind her. “What a nice surprise. Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. If you wouldn’t mind setting the crate inside the parlor, I’d be so grateful.”
Izzy stepped back next to her new friend. Distracted from her own problems for a moment, she watched the man maneuver the crate into the house.
“Dishes,” Edie said, answering Izzy’s unspoken question. “I’ve had a mismatched set, pieced together from the kind folks in town. James surprised me by ordering a new set from the general store.”
“What a nice gift,” Izzy said. If she wasn’t so worried about her own situation, she’d admit the sheriff was a good man.
“I’ll give my old ones to some other lady who is new to town. Let me know if you think of anyone who could use them.” Edie motioned at Izzy to come inside.
Glad for something else to occupy her mind, Izzy followed.
Edie gave the man with the crate a few coins and thanked him. “Would you like some tea?” she asked Izzy as she peered inside the crate. “We can drink it out of my new teacups.”
“That would be wonderful,” Izzy replied.
As Edie set the water on the stove, Izzy realized her friend might have a solution to her money problem.
“I’m looking for something to occupy my free time. Do you know of anyone in need of someone hardworking and friendly?” she asked as she took a seat at Edie’s table.
“Mrs. Canton is needing someone to help her clean the church once a week,” Edie said.
Izzy could do that easily, but she doubted there would be pay. “Perhaps something a little more frequent?”
Edie glanced at her as she wiped the teacups. “I’m surprised Tansy hasn’t come up with a hundred different things for you to do.”
“Well, yes . . .” Izzy trailed off. This was harder than she’d thought it would be. “I suppose I’m just looking to spend some time outside the boardinghouse.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Edie replied. “How are your plants faring? I have some more herbs if you’d like them.”
Izzy smiled. “Thank you. They’re doing very well.”
“Oh!” Edie perched on the chair across from Izzy. “Do you remember how I was telling you about my father?”
Izzy nodded.
“Well, after we spoke, I thought about it some more. About how you miss your family, and I decided I needed to change my own thoughts about mine. So, I sat down and wrote my father a long letter. I told him about things that had happened since he was here, and about my friends and James.”
Izzy grinned. “That’s wonderful! Do you think he’ll write you back?”
Edie made a face. “My father isn’t one for words, but he’ll probably make one of my brothers write to me for him.”
Izzy laughed. It was exactly the sort of thing Papa would have made Carter do. “I sent my letter home after you visited last.” It was anguish waiting for a reply, wondering how Papa might react to her marriage and waiting to hear if Carter was well.
And possibly waiting to hear the truth.
The thought left her insides feeling cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Now wasn’t the time to doubt her own father. She knew the kind of man he was. And he wasn’t a greedy outlaw.
“I’m sure they’ll reply soon.” Edie set a cup of steeping tea in front of her and patted her arm.
Izzy smiled up at her gratefully. She wished she’d had a friend like Edie back in Wyoming. And she wished more than anything that she could pour out her heart to Edie now. Somehow, she doubted Edie would pass judgment.
Perhaps if her friend were married to a different man, Izzy could have done just that.
“Sugar?” Edie slid a little stack of sugar cubes across the table on one of her new plates.
“Yes, thank—”
“Edie? Edie!” A male voice called from the parlor. The voice sounded urgent.
Edie stood up immediately. “We’re in the kitchen.”
Izzy set her teacup down as Sheriff Wright burst through the door, a sheet of paper in his hand. He shoved it at Edie. “This just arrived in the company of a bounty hunter.”
Edie’s mouth formed a little “o” as she looked down at the paper—just as the sheriff noticed Izzy.
“Hello, Sheriff,” Izzy said as she stood too. Any other friendly words died on her lips at the look he gave her.
Izzy swallowed. Something was wrong. She knew without a doubt it had to do with her when Edie looked up, her expression a cross between sympathy and fear.
She suddenly wished she hadn’t come here at all.
Without a word, Sheriff Wright took the paper from his wife’s hands and held it out to Izzy. She clutched the edges of it, and her throat went dry as she saw herself reflected back at her.
Someone had figured out that the missing Sutcliffe boy was a girl.
The sketch was too realistic, and the description . . . Izzy dropped a hand to the back of her chair as she went dizzy.
Edie was immediately at her side, a hand on her arm. “Do you need to sit?”
Izzy shook her head, although she should have. The words kept spinning before her eyes, but she didn’t dare move. Not until she knew exactly what was on that paper.
Miss Isabella Sutcliffe. Female, approx. 20 years of age, red hair, last seen in men’s clothing Roebuck, Wyo. Terr. Wanted for robbery. REWARD. Armed & dangerous.
A strangled laugh choked out of her throat at the last line. Izzy pressed a hand against her mouth, and the poster fluttered to the floor.
The sheriff bent to pick it up, his eyes never leaving hers. “I take it this is you,” he said as he straightened.
Izzy’s mouth opened, but her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak.
She didn’t know what she could say, anyhow.
She could hardly deny it when that sketch looked so much like her.
It was as if someone had used the photograph she’d had taken as a gift for her sixteenth birthday and transferred it with pen and ink to paper.
The photograph she’d left in the cabin in Wyoming.
She turned to Edie, in the desperate hope that her friend might know what to do now.
Edie’s face was pinched, as if she were holding back tears. “James . . .” she said, with a longing look at her husband.
“Please don’t ask me. I don’t have a choice,” he said in a short voice.
“But a bounty hunter? Can’t you or the marshal take her instead?”
“He’s within his rights. Unfortunately. He came here looking for Mrs. Darby and one of the boys, who apparently ran off.”
Izzy listened to this exchange without really hearing any of it. All she could think was that she’d failed. She’d failed her family. Hale. Herself.
Everything she’d done had been for nothing, and now she was going to lose it all.
“All I did was watch the horses,” she finally said, knowing it wasn’t an excuse.
Sheriff Wright gave her the most sorrowful look. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Darby. I promise I’ll let your husband know as soon as I can.” He sighed. “I should have guessed, with his sudden interest in the Sutcliffe gang.”
Izzy’s heart plummeted. She couldn’t imagine Hale’s reaction. How betrayed he’d feel, all over again.
“If you won’t go, then I’m coming with her,” Edie said, holding fast to Izzy’s arm.
“Not to Cheyenne,” the sheriff said.
“I am.” She fixed him with a look that could have cracked stone. “I refuse to let her go alone with that man. Who knows what sort he is?”
“Edie.” Sheriff Wright rubbed at his forehead as if he was trying to push away a headache. “Even if I allowed it, there’s no chance that bounty hunter would agree.”
“I don’t care if he agrees.”
“No.” Izzy’s voice came out stronger than she’d expected. “I won’t interrupt your life. I’ll go. Sheriff?” She extracted her arm from Edie’s hand and lifted her chin.
“Isabella—” Edie paused when she looked at Izzy. She sighed. “All right. But I’m going to fetch her husband. He’ll go with her.”
“Thank you,” Izzy said, although she doubted Hale would want to come after learning that she’d been a part of every thing Papa had done, even if it was just on the edges.
She drew up every ounce of courage she had and started toward the door, Sheriff Wright behind her.
This new, wonderful life was over. If she were lucky, she’d at least see her family again.
And she’d have her memories of Hale forever.