Chapter 8
Chapter
What he found was utter chaos. Following his ears and the swelling crowd of onlookers pouring out of homes and businesses, James crossed the courthouse square to Main Street and found his way to the epicenter in front of the Albany Hotel.
“Go back to your homes,” James called as he pushed through the crowd, slightly alarmed at the number of men brandishing shotguns and rifles with dinner napkins still tucked into their collars.
“If you did not witness the incident, I need you to clear the area.” He shouted to be heard above the cacophony, but only a handful paid him any mind. Curiosity proved too strong a draw.
“You heard the man,” a commanding voice called out behind him. A commanding female voice. “Back inside. You’ll learn all the details soon enough. Zeke Carlson! Yes, you. Get those two boys of yours and start herding folks back toward the square.”
“Paxton?” The local rancher met James’s gaze through the crowd. He wasn’t one to take orders from a woman, but the fellow was reliable. A good choice for crowd control. Something Noreen had obviously recognized at once, even in the midst of all the confusion.
James met Carlson’s gaze. “I could use the help.”
The rancher nodded and immediately took charge. “Brent! Leonard!” He signaled his nearly grown sons by raising a hand above his head and rotating it in a circle. “Time to turn the stampede. Drive ’em back to the square. Deputy’s orders.”
James winced a bit at the loud dismissal of Noreen’s role, but she didn’t react to the announcement. Instead, she’d worked her way over to an imposing older woman actively shooing one of the Carlson boys away from her.
“I am not a heifer to be herded, young man.”
“No, but you are a leader in this community, Miss Lockwood,” Noreen countered as she stepped in front of Brent, freeing him to round up other strays.
“Your example will be a powerful force for good. The last thing we need is for another weapon to discharge in this crowd. Think of the children. We must minimize their danger. Will you help me? Mothers will listen to you more readily than to me. Please. Deputy Paxton will soon have things in hand. Let us not add to his burden.”
Her voice faded as James wended his way through the crowd, but he glanced back into the throng once he pushed his way onto the hotel boardwalk and picked out her face from the dozens swimming through his field of vision.
Once he caught her eye, he nodded his thanks.
She dipped her chin in return even as she steered Hortense Lockwood back toward the square, a handful of other ladies following in their wake.
He’d told her to stay behind, but for once, he was glad she’d ignored his advice.
Noreen possessed steady nerves and an abundance of common sense, two critical assets in a crisis.
She’d assessed in a heartbeat what needed to be accomplished and unabashedly delegated assignments to those well-qualified to carry them out.
Undaunted by those who might discount her efforts, she waded into the fray anyway, not looking for commendation, only results.
Precisely the type of unselfish, level-headedness a man in his line of work appreciated.
What he didn’t appreciate was half a dozen people swarming him as he stepped back down into the street, all flappin’ their gums and pointin’ fingers at someone else in their hurry to justify themselves.
“His dog attacked my chickens . . .”
“. . . came out of nowhere . . .”
“Someone’s gotta pay for my busted window!”
“. . . them flutterin’ flappers spooked my . . .”
“That ain’t how it happened . . .”
“I could have been killed!”
James holstered his revolver and whistled with earsplitting precision. The people hovering around him backed away a step and fell blessedly silent.
“You will speak one at a time and not until I address you, is that understood?”
The three youngest of the bunch responded to his authoritative demand with humbled nods, but the others went right back to pleading their cases. James slashed his hand through the air like a butcher wielding a cleaver and narrowed his gaze.
“Enough!” The clamor died. “Test me again, and I’ll throw you all in the clink, where you will stay until Judge Lynch can sort out this mess.
” He drilled a look into each person, and while Mr. Gaines, the hotel manager, looked disgruntled and Mr. Freeman glowered back while clutching his blacksmith’s hammer, they all managed to hold their tongues.
“Good choice. Now, first order of business. Freeman, has anyone been injured?”
James had examined the street while being harangued upon his arrival and hadn’t noticed any obvious casualties.
Not of the human variety, anyway. Four or five crates that had once housed chickens had toppled from the back of an overloaded farm wagon and broken open.
Hens of all colors and sizes squawked and fluttered about while a pair of boys who likely belonged to the wagon ran around trying to catch them without much success.
Boards from the lumber shed lay scattered in the road in front of the carpentry shop across the street as if they’d been dropped in a hurry.
Unsettled by the chickens, the wagon’s team stomped and snorted, as did a pair of saddle horses hitched at the hotel rail.
The blacksmith met James’s gaze and shook his head. “Naw. The fool woman managed to miss anything vital.”
“The hotel’s front window is quite vital,” Mr. Gaines muttered.
James chose to ignore him. Instead, he turned his attention to the one female in their midst, a gray-haired woman who stood barely five feet tall.
Her weathered skin and chapped hands bespoke a life of hard work, and the shotgun gripped in front of her warned she’d not be one to back down without a fight.
“Ma’am? Did you discharge your weapon within city limits?”
“I did.”
“Endangering public safety in such a manner is a jailable offense, ma’am.” He extended his palm toward her. “I’m afraid I need to confiscate your weapon.”
She held tight to the gun. “Thievery’s a crime, too, ain’t it? By law, I got the right to protect my family and my belongings. That’s all I was doin’.”
“Hand me the shotgun, ma’am, then tell me what happened.”
Reluctantly, she loosened her grip on the weapon and allowed James to take possession of it.
The barrel was still warm. One shell spent, the other waiting in the chamber.
James removed the second shell and stuffed it in his coat pocket as the woman started recounting the events that led up to the shooting.
“This fella’s dog ran out into the street and startled my team.
The horses bolted, and we hit a rut that nearly threw me outta my seat.
Bounced my hen crates right outta the wagon and busted them all to pieces.
Poor birds were in a panic as it was, then that thievin’ hound come back around chasing and snapping, stirring ’em up even worse.
I hollered at him to leave them be, but he paid me no mind.
Well, I wasn’t about to let him eat my chickens.
Not with my grandchildren lookin’ on. So I grabbed my shotgun and aimed for the sky, hopin’ the boom of the gun would scare the varmint away. ”
James waited for her to continue her tale, but she offered no further explanations. Just stood stiff and defiant before him, much like another woman he knew.
“How exactly did a shot aimed for the sky end up going through the hotel window?” No one’s marksmanship was that poor.
The woman stubbornly refused to answer, so James turned to one of the young men he recognized from the M. T. Jones Lumber Company. “Reed, you see what happened?”
“Yessir.” The fellow nodded, his eyes wide as if afraid James might find a reason to haul him off to jail if he didn’t cooperate.
“One of them scared chickens landed on her head right as she was fixin’ to pull the trigger.
The dog givin’ chase rammed into the lady’s backside at the same time.
Me and Jonesy were laughin’ about it till her gun exploded, and the hotel window shattered.
That’s when we dropped our load and ran over to see if anyone had been hurt. ”
James had to fight to keep his own lips from twitching as he pictured the events unfolding. Working to keep his stern lawman facade in place, he turned to the hotel manager. “Gaines, any damage besides the window?”
“Eight terrified guests who were in the lobby at the time.” He gave a disdainful sniff in the grandmother’s direction.
“Were any of them injured by buckshot or flying glass?”
The man sniffed again, then shook his head.
“No. Thankfully, most of them had been preparing to enter the dining room and were not near the window when the shot was fired. I shudder to think what might have happened if anyone had been seated on the settee directly behind the glass. She could have killed someone with her carelessness!”
“If that dog hadn’t knocked into me, your precious window would still be in one piece!”
“My dog was just doin’ what dogs do. It was your fault for shootin’ when you had no business.
” John Meyers, who had been obediently silent up until that point, jumped in to defend his hound, who was squirming in the boy’s arms, no doubt wanting his freedom restored so he could engage in another round of chase-the-chicken.
James cleared his throat with meaningful force, not about to let this group get out of hand again.
Guilty looks accompanied closed mouths. “All right. Here’s what we’re gonna do.
Reed, grab Jonesy and help the youngsters round up the chickens.
If the crates that are busted can be fixed temporarily with a nail or two, see to it.
The sooner we get those chickens contained, the sooner things will settle down around here. ”
“Yessir.” Reed bounded away like a schoolboy who’d just been let out for recess.
“Meyers, find a length of rope for your dog and keep him tied up until the chickens are penned.”
“I got something at the smithy that’ll work,” Freeman volunteered.
James nodded. “Perfect.” He pointed a look at Meyers. “Stay close to the smithy for a while. I’ll need to get an official statement from you before I let you go. You too, Freeman.”
Both men murmured their agreement.
“Gaines, get that glass cleaned up and board your window. I’ll check back with you tomorrow to get an estimate on the damages.”
Once the men departed to take care of their assigned tasks, James turned back to the tiny, gray-haired woman in front of him.
Her posture sagged, and her already petite size seemed to shrink even further.
Gentling his voice, James leaned her empty shotgun against a nearby hitching post and pulled out a notebook and pencil from his pocket. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Edna Hanover.”
James made a note. “You kin to Elijah Hanover?”
She hugged her arms around her middle. “He’s my son. Them two boys are his nephews.” She nodded her head in the direction of the two youngsters herding hens. “Their ma and pa passed last month. Influenza. Elijah is takin’ us in.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.” Losing a child, a home.
Was it any wonder she was determined to lose nothing more, even a bunch of silly chickens?
“I’ll escort you out to your son’s place myself after I finish up here.
” If it was up to him, he’d let her go with a warning, but the law had to be administered equally.
If a liquored-up cowboy had fired his weapon in town, he’d be facing a hefty fine or three days in jail.
James couldn’t ignore the crime just because he felt sorry for the perpetrator.
“I’m afraid I will have to arrest you after we see to your grandsons, though.
Elijah can come back to town with us and pay the twenty-dollar fine.
You’ll be free to go until Judge Lynch calls your case.
He’ll render a decision about the damages owed to the hotel.
You can be home tonight before nightfall. ”
Mrs. Hanover shook her head. “Elijah can’t afford to throw away twenty dollars. He’s already taking on three new mouths to feed when he can barely feed the five he’s got. I’ll take the jail time, Deputy. How many days should I expect?”
“Three, but surely that won’t be necessary.
” Great galoshes. He did not want to be the man who locked up somebody’s grandmother in the same cells that held cattle thieves and outlaws.
What would Sheriff Adair think when he got wind of it?
“Why don’t we wait and talk to Elijah? I’m sure we can work something out. ”
“This is my problem to deal with, and I’ll decide what action needs to be taken.
” Her eyes narrowed, and James found himself reaching for the shotgun he’d set down a moment ago just in case she took it into her head to beat some sense into him.
“I know my own mind, and neither you nor my son will talk me out of it.” She pushed past him.
“Now step aside and let me have a word with my grandsons before you drag me away in irons.”
James bit back a moan as he moved out of her way.
Drag her away in irons? He prayed that turn of phrase didn’t show up in the Albany News.
He might not have to worry about Noreen O’Sullivan ruining his chances to be elected sheriff, after all.
Apparently, he was perfectly capable of blackening public opinion of his fitness for office all on his lonesome.