Chapter 14
That question rattled around in Ben’s head for two more days, making him crazy. One moment, his anger knew no bounds, and the next, he felt inadequate for the task. However, his indecisiveness was finally pushed to a resolution when Arlo Grosspointe delivered a telegram from Judge Lemke.
“Man needs to know about what happened here,” Arlo said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“I know,” Ben grunted. “Hilda and Roseanna are both concerned I’ll burst my britches if I keep eating like I have.”
That made Arlo chuckle. “Still not sure how you are managing to keep this from Mrs. Danbury. Those fellows must be mighty quiet.”
Opening his top drawer, Ben pulled out a sheaf of paper. “They’re putting everything in words. But I’m going to have to figure out how to get Dr. Rooney over here without raising suspicion. Orville’s developed a nasty cough.”
“Don’t imagine the cellar is very warm.”
“No, and I don’t have any more blankets,” Ben replied, considering the state of affairs. When he’d decided to hide the condemned Pinkerton agents, he hadn’t thought the whole plan through. And he knew there wasn’t much time until the charade would be exposed. Either because the women realized he couldn’t possibly be eating all the food he requested, or because he’d have enough evidence to bring Simon Rassbach to trial.
Each night, he poured over the written statements that Baxter Orville and Ambrose Gilbert provided. While there wasn’t anything conclusive to establish a pattern of wrongdoing, Ben knew there was more to Simon Rassbach than met the eye. Still, his greatest take away from the agents’ affidavits was the assurance that neither man had exposed Roseanna.
Oh, the stage driver had, based on the wanted poster. But Orville and Gilbert assured Ben that they hadn’t been in a position to report the woman’s presence after the death of Arnold Danbury.
“Hey! Snap out of it,” Arlo admonished, flicking his fingers in front of Ben’s nose.
Glancing at the persistent man, Ben searched the telegraph operator’s face. “I need to get a message to the judge. And tell the doc I’d like him to look at baby Sebastian.”
“I’ll stop by Rooney’s office before I head back to my place. What do you want the telegram to Judge Lemke to say?”
Shaking his head, Ben held up one finger. “Give me a minute, and I’ll write a letter. I don’t want this information going to anyone but the judge.”
After examining all four of Roseanna’s children, Dr. Rooney stopped by Ben’s desk. “Arlo said I’d need to visit the cellar.”
“Yeah. Baxter Orville is looking peaked, and that cough of his? Well, I ain’t a doctor, but it don’t sound good to me.”
The physician moved toward the cellar door, but he stopped and turned back. “Mrs. Danbury isn’t going to be able to keep this up much longer. Not without help, Ben. She’s worrying herself sick, and after four pregnancies in as many years?”
Ben rolled his eyes, ruing the possibility of another invalid. “She taken sick, too?”
“Not yet, Sheriff. And I’d like to keep it that way, so I’ll send Cob back a little later with a sleeping draught. Make sure Roseanna uses it while Hilda’s here to lend a hand.”
Sighing, Ben gave a small nod, his gaze going toward the door between the two rooms. Then he turned when the exterior door bumped open to admit a grizzled-looking fellow. “Jenkins,” Ben greeted as the man pulled off his red and black checked hat.
“It happened again, Sheriff, and I can’t lose any more timber! I got an order due out the first of next week, or the railroad will cancel the entire contract,” Oswold Jenkins snapped.
“What did they take this time?” Ben asked as he took a clean sheet of paper from the top desk drawer.
“Nearly a thousand board feet of lumber!”
Ben's shoulders slumped. “That’s no squatter.”
“Course not! Someone brought in a wagon and a double team,” the mill owner growled. “Got tracks built up, plain as day. Ground was soft yesterday, but it got mighty cold last night. And those ruts froze right up.”
That made Ben grin. “Should be easy to follow then. Let’s go!”
“Oh, I know where they go,” Oswold Jenkins said. “Followed them all the way up the hill to Warehouse 3. Now, what you going to do about it?”
The six men he’d locked up for the robbery hurled obscenities and brawled the entire night through. However, Ben’s refusal to acknowledge the troublemakers didn’t have the desired effect until he provided Roseanna with a nice bit of ham and several eggs.
“There’s not enough here to feed all those men,” the girl said in confusion, cocking her head to the side as she surveyed the ingredients the lawman handed over.
“I know,” Ben grinned. “But now it’s our turn to make them miserable. You go ahead and cook up our breakfast. After we eat, I’ll take them the biscuits Otille brought by, along with a pitcher of water.
A tiny smile twitched the corners of Roseanna’s lips, and she quickly covered her mouth with the back of a hand. “Oh, my. You are devious, Sheriff Chauncy,” she giggled.
“I don’t want you to overdo it. I know you’re as tired as I am. But let’s give those men a reason to regret their behavior, alright?”
“I’d be happy to,” the girl cheerfully answered. “And when my overtired children start howling, I’ll open the door so the men upstairs can share the experience.”
Ben winked and smiled. “I like the way you think, Mrs. Danbury.”
Blushing to the roots of her hair, Roseanna’s bluebelle eyes went wide, and a tiny little smile twitched the corner of her lips. But she shyly offered, “Then let’s make some mischief, Sheriff.”