Chapter 32
That morning, Mary paused at her work and went to town to pick up a few things and to send her father a telegram and let him know George and James would be staying to help her for a while.
She hoped she didn’t run into that Marshal Mayfield.
She didn’t like him.
He was taking his sweet time getting after the murderers, and he had something against Conn.
His attack on Conn’s character didn’t affect her one bit. She had faith in her brother-in-law, certainly a lot more faith than she had in a lawman who talked about justice but gave bad men days to ride wherever they wanted.
But his words had clearly impacted George, who probably set to working on James as soon as she was out of earshot.
The idea that Conn might have caused all this was utter nonsense. Sadly, the world was full of Tooles, and they’d had the bad luck to run across one.
But Mayfield had planted seeds of doubt in George, who now seemed to half-believe that Conn had caused everything.
“How well do you really know him?” he’d demanded after she’d asked the marshal to leave.
“It doesn’t matter,” she’d countered. “I knew Cole, didn’t I? And he told me plenty about his brother.”
“But even Cole hadn’t seen Conn for a long time.”
George kept pushing until she told him to stop. Even then, even after she explained how things were, she could tell he was holding onto his doubts, nursing them, letting them grow.
There were a lot of people in Fairplay today. Several folks waved to her.
It was strange, all these strangers recognizing her.
She waved back and rolled on.
She parked the wagon and crossed the street, heading for the telegraph office.
Before she could go inside, however, she was stopped by Mr. Winston, the reporter who’d interviewed her for The Fairplay Flume. “Good morning, Mrs. Sullivan. Any word from Conn Sullivan?”
“Nothing yet, Mr. Winston.”
“Well, please let me know if you do hear anything. Our readers are invested in your story.”
“All right. Good morning, Mr. Winston.”
She went inside the telegraph office, and the man behind the counter greeted her by name and asked how she was holding up.
“I am doing what I can, sir,” she said. “I would like to send a telegram, please.”
“Sure,” he said. “You can do that. But first, I got a couple of telegrams for you. Well, one for you and one for your husband.”
That was a surprise. Who would have wired Cole?
“May I have them please?”
“Yes, just a second.”
A moment later, he was back.
Mary read the first telegram, which was from her father.
By now you have talked the boys into staying (stop) That’s all right (stop) Keep them all winter (stop) We are ready (stop) Real sorry about Cole (stop) He seemed like a good man (stop) If I am wrong about the boys you are welcome here always and forever (stop) Pa
Mary stared at those words, always and forever, her eyes misting with unexpected emotion.
It was the closest her father had ever come to saying he loved her.
He was a loving man in his way. He showed that love by protecting and feeding her and taking the time to teach her things. But he was not a man who spoke his feelings. That was all right.
But the telegram made her happy. She slipped it into her pocket, realizing she would cherish it forever.
Then she turned her attention to the other telegram, the one addressed to her husband.
Or so the man behind the counter had assumed.
But it wasn’t addressed to Cole. It was addressed to Conn.
She hesitated, not wanting to invade Conn’s privacy, but seeing that it was from his parents, she went ahead and read the message. After all, they might be planning a visit.
Either that, or Reverend Sullivan might try to talk his son out of pursuing vengeance.
What she read surprised her.
Blood has been shed (stop) Justice must be met (stop) Go with God’s authority not your own (stop) We lift you up ceaselessly in prayer (stop)