Chapter 9
Chapter
By the time Deputy Paxton returned to the courthouse square, most of the crowd had dispersed.
John Meyers had come through fifteen minutes ago with tales of a trigger-happy grandma who’d nearly shot his dog.
There’d been chickens and a broken window involved somehow, and the boy seemed particularly put out by the fact that the deputy had made him leash his dog.
A few of his neighbors cheered to see the energetic pup curtailed, spouting woes of dug-up gardens, spooked horses, and chewed shoes credited to the hound’s penchant for mischief.
With their curiosity assuaged, people returned to their homes and their interrupted dinners, eager to discuss the evening’s events.
Noreen felt a similar craving for food and conversation, especially since her dinner companion would have the best details to share.
However, when he finally put in an appearance, he wasn’t alone.
A stone-faced woman in a faded red calico dress strode by his side, a travel bag in her hand.
She lifted her chin high, even if it barely reached the deputy’s shoulder, but it was the glistening film in her eyes that grabbed Noreen’s sympathy.
How many times had she worn the same expression?
Displaying a brick wall to a world that stood against her even as her heart crumbled like old mortar within her breast.
As the pair drew near, Deputy Paxton veered toward Noreen, his blue eyes void of their usual sparkle.
“Would you be willing to assist me with a delicate matter back at the jailhouse?” The intimacy of his lowered voice caused her stomach to flit, but his need of her assistance clenched her cooperation in a heartbeat.
“Of course.”
Noreen fell into step beside him, holding back the flood of questions that begged for release.
No one spoke again until they reached the jail.
The deputy ushered the older woman into the office and offered her his chair, then unlocked the gun case on the far wall and set the shotgun he’d been carrying inside.
After locking the case, he took off his hat, ran his hand over his sand-colored hair, and exhaled a heavy breath.
“Noreen O’Sullivan, meet Edna Hanover. Mrs. Hanover is going to be staying here for the next few days.”
He’d arrested her? Didn’t infractions like this usually carry a fine instead of jail time? No one had been hurt, after all. Noreen would have been affronted on the woman’s behalf had the deputy not looked so utterly miserable about the situation.
Noreen offered an uncertain smile. “Mrs. Hanover.”
The woman speared her with a sharp gaze. “You his wife?”
Noreen’s lungs seized for a moment, causing a series of coughs to erupt before she managed to recover enough to speak. “No, ma’am. I’m, uh . . .” His friend? Associate? Thorn in his side? “His cook.”
The deputy’s brows rose at her response, and the start of a smile quirked one corner of his mouth.
The man was laughing at her! Warmth heated Noreen’s cheeks, but the ire she expected to flare fizzled.
She liked seeing a spark of his good humor returned.
Liked even more the fact that she’d aided its appearance. A rather unexpected development.
“And a fine cook she is, too.” He winked at Noreen, setting off an alarming quantity of quivers through her abdomen. “Fried chicken’s on the menu this evening. Why don’t the two of you help yourselves while I fix up some proper accommodations. I’ll grab something from the café later.”
No, he would not. He’d be eating the meal she’d fixed him, and that was that.
She and Edna could get by on smaller portions.
Noreen had made enough for him to have seconds, anyway, so it should stretch for three people easily enough.
She’d not argue with him, though. He had enough on his mind at the moment.
Like how to make a barren jail cell fit for a female occupant.
Noreen gestured for Edna to take a seat at the worktable and started dishing up modest-sized portions of the chicken and fixings onto one of the tin plates.
Glancing over the lady’s head, she caught Deputy Paxton’s eye.
He tipped his head to the side in silent request for her to join him.
She placed the filled plate in front of Edna, smiled encouragement to the older woman, then excused herself to meet the deputy over by his desk.
He placed a hand on her elbow and tugged her close, bending his face near hers to murmur in her ear. The intimacy of the position had her heart beating out an irregular tattoo, but she willed her mind to concentrate on his words instead of his touch.
“Would you check her bag for me?” As he spoke, Noreen’s gaze fell to the floor next to Edna’s chair, where a battered leather travel bag sat. “I can’t let her take it into the cell without checking it for weapons, but I don’t want to embarrass her by digging through her unmentionables.”
A strange sensation permeated Noreen’s chest. Warm and pleasant and completely foreign, at least when it came to her interactions with men. He trusted her. Believed her capable. Wanted her assistance. She’d not let him down.
“Of course. Is there anything else I can assist with?”
His hand fell away from her elbow, and she immediately missed his touch. She had to fight the absurd urge to lean closer to him to replace what had been lost.
“Mrs. Hanover came with me of her own volition, so I doubt she’ll be making a run for it, but if you would keep an eye on her while I try to rig up some kind of privacy screen in her cell, I’d appreciate it.”
“Does this mean you’re deputizing me, Deputy?” Noreen teased, hoping to lighten his mood a little more.
A full-blown grin stretched his cheeks and brightened his eyes. Not even a commendation from Frances Willard could have left Noreen more gratified at that moment.
“I suppose I am. Temporarily,” he amended, his mouth straightening into a nearly serious expression that failed to knock the amusement from his gaze. “Don’t think you can go around arresting folks all willy-nilly after this.”
“Oh, there will be nothing willy nor nilly about it,” she said with a saucy smirk.
“I’ll set up shop directly outside the Salt Fork Saloon and apprehend any visibly inebriated men who emerge on a charge of public drunkenness.
I’m sure they will all respect my newly gained authority and comply without complaint.
” She laced her tone with enough sarcasm to keep Deputy Paxton from taking her seriously.
“Although, I suppose it would be unkind to burden dear Edna with foul-smelling, ill-mannered company, so maybe I’ll forgo that plan for the time being. ”
“Wise choice.” The warm humor in his gaze combined with his nearness made her heart palpitate with alarming, yet not unpleasant, rapidity.
Their gazes remained connected for a suspended moment, then released when James dipped his chin and moved away to see to his duty.
Noreen watched him round the corner and disappear into the stairwell that separated his personal quarters from the main office.
His footfalls echoed softly as he climbed the stairs to the prisoner accommodations.
Certain he was out of earshot, she returned her attention to the dangerous felon nibbling on a chicken leg at the deputy’s table.
Noreen dipped out a tin cup of water and placed it near Edna’s plate.
“Is it all right if I go through your bag? It must be checked before it can be allowed in your . . . room.” Cell was far too depressing. “Deputy Paxton thought you might prefer that a woman go through your belongings.”
“Suit yourself. Nothing in there but a change of clothes and a few personal items.”
Edna continued picking at her food as Noreen retrieved the travel bag from the floor and swiveled to place it on the sheriff’s desk.
Taking care not to rumple anything more than necessary, she felt around each corner and layer, pulling out anything she couldn’t immediately identify.
A nightdress, some underclothes, a spare skirt and blouse, brush, hairpins, and a couple of handkerchiefs filled most of the space.
A Bible lay at the bottom of the bag along with a framed photograph of a man, a woman, and two boys standing in front of a farmhouse.
Nothing that could be considered a weapon.
After packing everything away where she’d found it, Noreen joined Edna at the table, taking the seat across from her. She spooned tiny portions onto her plate to ensure plenty remained for the man scraping furniture around above their heads.
Noreen closed her eyes to offer a brief blessing over her food, then picked up a fork and smiled at the woman drawing lines through her mashed potatoes instead of eating them.
“I can warm those up for you if they’re too cold.” Noreen tried a bite herself and scrunched her nose. Not exactly the way she’d intended to serve them. They’d cooled to room temperature after sitting out for the last half hour.
“The taters are fine,” Edna ceased drawing with the tines of her fork and stabbed them into a carrot instead. However, she made no effort to lift it to her mouth. “Guess I ain’t hungry. Too much regret swimming around in my belly.”
Not sure how to reply, Noreen tore off a bit of a roll and popped it into her mouth.