Chapter 27
Saturday, December 11, 1869
When a sleigh coasted to a stop in front of the boardwalk Saturday morning, Ben’s eyes began to shine. “Ma,” he exclaimed as he clamored out the door to meet the woman and his two youngest sisters.
George Chauncy grumbled in mock consternation, “What, not even a ‘hello’ for your only brother?”
“Hi, George. Bye, George,” Ben teased, well aware the other man was in a hurry to get back to his farm before the temperature dropped any further.
“Not so quick there, Fred. Ma and the girls are staying in town for the winter. So, I’ve gotta drop their bags over at Eulalia’s place. You’ll make sure they get there safe and sound.”
“Pshaw. Off you, ya worry wart,” Jemima Chauncy scolded. I’ve been walking these streets since before there were even streets here. You get our things to the rooming house, and then you get on home before those northern winds bring ice and snow.”
George sent a conspiratorial wink Ben’s way before grunting an acknowledgment of his mother’s suggestion. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you come spring,” he called as he urged the team forward.
With his sisters clamoring around him, Ben shoved the door to his office open and hurried them inside. The day had started in the low thirties, but if he had to guess, Ben would say they’d lost at least ten degrees since noon.
Jumping up from the second desk they’d brought in, Hilda rushed forward with her arms outstretched. “Land sakes, it feels like an eon since I saw you last,” she shrilled, catching Jemima in a crushing hug.
“You been keeping my boy in line?” the newcomer teased.
“Oh, it’s a job,” Hilda answered with a dramatic sigh. Then, a barked laugh broke free, and the women clasped each other in a joyous hug.
Lottie, the most outgoing of all the Chauncy children, approached the stove and held out her hands to warm them. But when she heard movement in the back room, she sneaked over to the doorway and peeked into the living quarters. “Who are you?” she asked when she spotted Caleb sitting in the middle of one of the beds.
“I’s Kale-ebb.”
“My name’s Charlotte, but you can call me Lottie,” the ten-year-old said. “What are you doing here?” she questioned after a minute.
The toddler held up two halves of a dried corn cob. “My press-on-ears. Theys goin’ to my Pa’s jail.”
“Who are you talking to, little bear?” Roseanna asked, peeking around the stove.
“Yottie.”
Perplexed, the curious mother repeated, “Yottie? Who’s Yottie?”
“I am, ma’am,” the girl said, stepping into the room. The candid child offered a bright smile and nonchalantly announced, “I’m nosy. Ma says I should mind my own business. But . . . here I am.”
Roseanna giggled and shoved a piece of loose hair out of her eyes. “Your brother said as much,” she admitted with a grin. “You’ve met Caleb, and the little fellow tucked into my skirts is Arthur. Can you say hello to your Aunt Charlotte, boys?”
Adamantly shaking his head, little Arthur burrowed back into the folds of his mother’s skirt.
But his older brother bolted off the bed and grabbed the surprised stranger around the legs. “HI!! I yike you,” Caleb announced before dashing away. “Pa?! They’re here. They’re here, Pa.”
Ben turned and caught the little rascal as he barreled pell-mell into the office. “I know,” he replied with a grin, swinging the child into the air before drawing him close. “Can you say hi to your granny?”
Jemima Chauncy’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide before she stuttered, “Granny? I ain’t seen you in a while, Benjamin. But I sure think I’d recall hearing about the birth of my first grandchild!”
Hilda chortled. “Just you wait, Jemima. This boy’s full of surprises these days.”
“I have tea and a few oatmeal cookies,” Roseanna shyly offered as she moved further into the room. Extending her hand, the new bride timidly greeted, “It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Chauncy.”
“My gracious me, Ben. Have you taken a wife?” his sister Jane questioned in amazement.
“A wife and a whole passel of little boys,” Hilda confirmed with a definitive nod.
Ben blanched when he noticed the look in his Ma’s eyes, and he took a step backward. “Now, Ma. Things happened mighty quick, and when you know the whole of it, you’ll understand why I didn’t send word.”
The sharp wail of an angry baby splintered the tension, and Jemima glanced toward the back room. “Good heavens! There’s another one?”
Turning away, Roseanna rushed off to tend to the crying infant. In her absence, Ben gathered Arthur to his side when the child was left adrift without his mother’s skirts to cling to.
“Three!” the new grandmother noted, wide eyes fixed on the blue-eyed cherubs.
“Better add one more, Ma,” Lottie protested, carefully cradling the youngest of the Chauncy clan in her arms. “Roseanna thought you might like to hold him.”
Utterly speechless, the awed woman took the newborn and nestled the baby close to her chest. After studying the tiny features, Jemima kissed the boy’s little fingers and sent a glowing smile toward her son. “You’ve got lots of explaining to do, Benjamin,” she softly whispered. “LOTS of explaining.”
“Sounded like one heck of a party down there,” Baxter Orville grumbled when Ben delivered their meal later that evening.
“Sorry for being late with your dinner plates, but I couldn’t get my Ma and sisters to leave. And I’m sure they’ll be back early to help Roseanna decorate for Christmas.”
“Christmas,” Gilbert grumbled. “Sure ain’t gonna be much of a Christmas in this cage.”
Orville gave a pragmatic shrug. “Coulda been worse.”
Ambrose Gilbert acknowledged the statement with a huff. “Don’t remind me.” Then he shifted gears. “Any word on who is with Matthews?”
Ben handed off the plates and drew up a chair. “Judge Lemke had to head back to Clear Water Falls for another trial, but he did receive an answer to his request for identification before he left.
“The woman isn’t part of the witness list. She was brought along to serve as Jacob’s wet nurse. But when she heard there was a newborn, she tendered her resignation. She recently had a stillborn, and I guess she can’t bear the thought of caring for Sebastian.”
“Do you think that will help your case?” Orville asked, surprised to find himself rooting for the Sheriff and the girl he’d married.
“Can’t say one way or another,” Ben sighed. “But Gilbert was correct about Kenneth Lindsay. He’s the Pinkerton agent assigned to the kidnapping case, and Matthews asked him to stay on as security during his travels.
“Judge Lemke sent the telegraph to the next county over, but he doesn’t expect Judge Dunn to receive the request until Monday. Then, the waiting game begins.
“In the meantime, I’ll get word to Kenneth Lindsay via private channels.”
“You got someone in mind, or might I make a suggestion?” Orville asked.
The Sheriff thought about it. He hadn’t understood the agents’ refusal to defend themselves in court when given the opportunity, but he was starting to.
In the few short weeks since Roseanna Sherman Danbury arrived in Roses Briar, he’d discovered something startling about himself. Oh, Ben had always known he’d do whatever needed doing to take care of his Ma and sisters. He just never expected to feel that way about anyone else.
When the silence registered against his eardrums, Ben looked up and found the imprisoned men staring at him. “What?!” he asked in confusion when he noticed their expectant looks.
“You got someone to approach Lindsay or not?” Orville prompted.
“No, not anymore. Judge Lemke was going to arrange a meeting, but he’s got to sit over a hearing in Clear Water Falls. Sounds like a pair of horse thieves will soon be meeting their Maker.”
Baxter Orville moved his mouth back and forth, the nervous action an undeniable tell.
“If you’ve got something to say man, just come on out with it,” Ben irritably grumbled.
“Just don’t like being reminded of where this is all headed,” the convicted fellow grunted, scrubbing at his neck in dread.
Ambrose Gilbert rolled his eyes and shook his head, exasperated by his partner’s morbid fascination with death. “What this clumsy galoot is trying to say is, go through the Pinkerton office in Chicago. Anything you share with them will get back to Kenneth Lindsay.”