Big League Dreams
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“What’s wrong with you?” Joe asked. “You’ve been moping around for two days.” He leaned back on the sofa and stared down at her.
She looked up, startled. She’d thought she was hiding it from him well enough, but clearly, he saw right through her. The only way to hide anything from him would be to put a muzzle on him like the one his dog wore. It was a good thing that wasn’t possible or else she might have tried it out on him.
She hadn’t realized how bad she’d felt until this moment. But there was nothing in her life that she could change so she had no choice but to carry on. “I’m just tired is all,” she said softly.
Joe frowned.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re not eating.” He reached for the bowl of stew still on the table beside them and spooned some into his mouth. Then he held it out to her.
When he didn’t offer her any, she shook her head. She couldn’t force herself to eat more than what little she’d managed before coming here. There was too much at stake. Not knowing what the future held, she was constantly waiting for someone to try to take advantage of her lack of knowledge. If they found out about her secret, then there would be even more danger in staying.
“It’ll get better once we finish the job,” he said quietly, looking at the table again. “Then maybe I can find you another place where you can stay while you search for your mother.”
Her heart clenched at the reminder that her mother wasn’t dead as long as her father remained alive. Her father was the only person who could save her now. If he failed, then it would mean death for both of them. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “There must be something else going on here that you haven’t told me about.”
He shrugged, obviously thinking that there was nothing more important to talk about. He took a swig of whiskey and then sat back against the wall next to her, staring off toward the fire. After a few moments he reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently, but she knew he wasn’t consoling her.
She was used to people doing things like that when they cared for others, but it wasn’t necessary anymore. They were no longer together in the ways that mattered most to her.
The last two months seemed to have passed by in an instant. One night he’d walked into the saloon and told her to leave with him. She’d been afraid at first, but she was quickly reassured by his kindness and love for her.
That was when she learned of her true identity and purpose. Now she had no other option than to do what she’d been trained to do. And it would end if her father failed or was killed.
After a minute or two of sitting silently, she said, “Why don’t you tell me why we’re here?” She wanted to know more about Joe’s family and business, although she already suspected the truth behind his request.
He’d said she couldn’t leave unless he was satisfied; he had to protect his reputation as a gambler. It sounded so simple on paper, but in reality, it wouldn’t be easy to convince people she was worth the risk.
He sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “We’re here because my wife left me five years ago for one of her friends.”
She stiffened. So he was married too. Maybe the women in town weren’t interested after all. She wondered if he’d lied to his wife about having no other ties when he married her or if she’d known from the start. Either way, that explained why he was so protective of his son.
He looked directly into her eyes when he said, “But I did have one daughter—a girl named Mary Lou. My ex-wife and her lover decided to give Mary Lou to her best friend and I never saw her again until yesterday. That was when I met you.”
“And you believe your daughter is alive?” she asked, not able to stop herself from asking questions.
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I think she is.”
“How old was she when she disappeared?”
“Twenty-two months.” His voice cracked slightly as he remembered the little girl who had captured his heart almost instantly.
“Did you ever think it was strange that she went missing so soon after the baby was born? You were married less than a year before Mary Lou vanished,” she said. She tried to keep her tone even, but her anger flared when she added, “And you married another woman within three weeks of losing your daughter.
Did you ever wonder if your wife’s pregnancy might’ve made her angry enough to hurt your child?”
He stared down at their clasped hands for a moment without responding. “No,” he finally whispered.
They sat quiet again for several minutes. Then he pulled his hand away and rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand.
“I know you’re upset, but there’s nothing you can say to make this situation any worse,” he said quietly. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” she answered quickly. “If anything, I feel sorry for you, and for your son.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I can understand how you want to find your daughter. But the way you’re trying to do it is selfish. Why don’t we just go home?”
He frowned. “That’s not possible.”
She waited for him to explain, but instead, he said, “You aren’t listening to me,” and stood up abruptly. She heard a door close somewhere near the entrance of the hotel and a man’s voice shout loudly as someone walked toward them.
Joe glanced around the saloon with his head tipped back, obviously looking for someone. When he didn’t find anyone, he turned back to face her and said, “I’ll send for the sheriff tomorrow morning and ask him to arrest me on a charge of kidnapping.”
She gasped when she realized what he intended to do. “Don’t!”
“It will put an end to all of this.”
“Are you out of your mind? We still don’t know if my sister is dead or alive, much less if the men involved are guilty.”
“I don’t care if they are,” he shouted over the noise in the room. “This whole thing would be over right now if you hadn’t interfered in our investigation.”
“Interfered?” she asked incredulously. “Do you really believe I had some ulterior motive? I was only doing what you told me.”
His nostrils flared. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
He started to walk away, then stopped abruptly and turned to her again. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier, but it doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have been there. You should’ve kept your distance, stayed in camp like I instructed.”
“I did obey orders,” she said defensively, “but that doesn’t mean I agree with everything you’re doing. What happened between us isn’t important. The problem is that Joe’s actions won’t lead to finding his daughter.”
“What makes you think that?”
“There was more to the story I overheard yesterday afternoon.”
“You overheard something?” He stared at her in surprise, which made her realize she must have misheard what she’d overheard. She shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. It was nothing.”
He stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds before he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to look inside the saloon again. For the first time since they’d met, she felt a twinge of regret. There were times when she wished he could see the real person she was and not the hired investigator.
He was right about one thing, she thought, looking around the noisy saloon full of people having drinks with friends or playing cards. The atmosphere here reminded her of her own hometown in Ohio, except it seemed to be more lively.
People weren’t just coming together for conversation, but for fun. No doubt the saloon would draw crowds during the annual rodeo held every spring. And if there was a celebration, it certainly wouldn’t end without the saloon being packed with revelers.
But this was not the place for them. “Why don’t we go outside and sit in the shade for a while? It’s too loud in here,” she suggested, feeling self-conscious when she saw the disapproving stare from some of the cowboys sitting near them. “We can talk about this later, and maybe you can calm down and listen to me.”
When Joe remained silent for several minutes, she glanced at his profile and knew she’d better start talking fast if he was going to hear what she had to say.
“Joe,” she began quietly, “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night—”
“What are you two whispering about?”
Their heads snapped toward the entrance of the saloon where the sheriff strode across the floor with his arm around another man’s shoulder, and both were laughing loudly over something. They looked so different standing beside each other than they did alone, yet the similarities between them made them seem oddly familiar.
For a moment, she didn’t recognize the sheriff until he spoke her name. She nodded in recognition as she continued, “The thing is, even if you wanted to make an arrest on charges of kidnapping, I don’t think you will.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Because I talked to Sheriff Denton earlier today.”
“About what?” he demanded, sounding confused.
“A woman was murdered yesterday. Her body was dumped in the river, wrapped up like a mummy.” She paused and watched his reaction carefully. “I don’t suppose you noticed that I found her body.”
“What?” His face paled. “Are you saying someone killed her and tried to cover it up by dumping her in the river?”
“I’m afraid so,” she said, wishing that was the reason she’d come to see him. “And I have good reason to suspect that it might be related to your daughter.”
“I want you to tell me everything,” the sheriff insisted.
“Yes, I’ll tell you everything,” she agreed reluctantly. “But first, let’s get something straight. I am an independent investigator with my own firm. This case is mine—no matter who owns it, whether it’s you or that saloon owner you’ve got working for you.”
Her words seemed to take the wind out of his sails. She waited until he stopped pacing in front of her, and then she explained why she’d come to see him. When she finished, he stood there with his jaw hanging open.
“What do you think?” she asked after a long silence.
“I never thought anything could happen here,” he muttered in disbelief. “I mean, it’s a small town like any other. Why would anyone bother killing a woman?”
“It wasn’t easy to discover the connection.” She paused for a moment as she tried to sort through the information. “If you were trying to hide something, which means someone knows you’ve got a daughter named Lizzie and has a motive for killing her.”
“That’s not possible!”
“Well, it just might be true,” she said calmly. “Or it could be a coincidence, and I’m sorry for saying such things. But if it’s not a coincidence, someone here might know something that could help us find the murderer.”
She watched him closely. His shoulders slumped and he sank into a chair as he listened to the sounds of laughter drifting from the saloon behind them. “Lizzie is still missing.” He rubbed his face as if he had a terrible headache.
After a few moments, he took a deep breath and sighed. “This isn’t helping anything.” He stood and went to the window before looking back at her with a tired expression. “You need to leave now before I ask you to stay away from this investigation and go back to New York.”
She followed him to the door, hoping he would change his mind. “Sheriff,” she said quietly, “you have to let me help.”
“Do you really think I should?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t hold back her excitement, and she hoped he would understand why she felt so strongly about their chances of finding Lizzie alive. “It might give you some closure and help you cope with your loss.”
His lips pressed together, and he nodded slowly. “Okay.”
He opened the door for her, and she paused as she gazed at his profile for a long moment, realizing that she would probably never see him again. Then she stepped outside and closed the door gently behind her.
***
She’d been walking for almost an hour when she saw smoke rising above the trees and turned around to head back to the saloon. A horse grazed nearby as a lone rider galloped along the dusty road. She watched him for a while and realized that he was headed south toward the mountains.
There was a slight breeze, and the scent of sagebrush and grass rose in the air as she walked farther away from the town.
She reached the edge of town and turned north, following the fence line that ran past the train yard and then down the hill. In spite of the heat, the wind carried her thoughts back to Joe and the way he looked at her during dinner. What did it mean?
That he was attracted to her? Did it mean that he wanted her to return home and stop poking into his life? She knew how protective he was over Lizzie and hated that he didn’t trust her.
But then again, it seemed that he didn’t entirely trust himself either, because he kept insisting that it was all part of his plan for Lizzie’s protection, even though he refused to explain exactly what his plan entailed.
Maybe he was right about the danger. Maybe someone had threatened him and his family, and that’s why he felt the need to protect her. After all, she had made it clear from the beginning that she was going to investigate on behalf of her client, and he might not like what she learned. And if she found proof that Lizzie was dead, that would mean one less thing for him to worry about.
The sound of horses approaching brought her head around quickly. It was the sheriff and his deputy, accompanied by a man with a gun belt slung across his chest and wearing a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. The deputy led two other men who rode alongside each other on matching mounts.
They stopped a safe distance ahead of her as they waited patiently for her to approach them.
Sheriff Custer smiled as he approached her. “Are you lost, ma’am?”
“No.” She stopped short of their group and stared at him with a frown. “Have you seen a young woman around here?”
“Not lately,” he said with a shrug.
A chill crept up her spine. She glanced around but couldn’t spot anyone else in the area. “Is that so?” she asked skeptically. “Well, thank you for stopping. I guess I’ll be on my way.”
Sheriff Custer’s expression turned serious as he regarded her with an inquiring look. “Ma’am—”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, Sheriff!” She held out her hand, hoping to get the conversation started. “What does this have to do with you?”
His fingers touched hers briefly as he studied her. He gave her a halfhearted smile and shrugged again. “You know we don’t tolerate any sort of vagrancy. We have enough problems without allowing our town to become known as a haven for those who wish to hide from justice.”
Her stomach clenched. This wasn’t good news. “Did you catch her?”
“We did.” The deputy handed her a paper bag. She recognized the name inside the lettering.
Lizzie! A rush of relief washed over her as she tore open the top and pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper tied with twine. “Oh, God!” Her hands trembled as she untied the string, then ripped through the wrapping.
Lizzie! She unwrapped the package and lifted the shirt out of it. Tears blurred her vision as she unfolded the garment and examined its contents. She ran her fingers over the fabric, admiring the fine stitching on the collar.
“Thank you,” she whispered, unable to stop staring at the shirt. “This will keep Lizzie much cooler than that dress.” She carefully folded it up and stuffed it into her saddlebag. She could take it to her room later.
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gift.” The deputy grinned. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got other matters to attend to.”
Sheriff Custer shook his hand and waved at her as she followed the deputies down the hill. She hurried after them as they turned off the main road and headed north toward the mountains, wondering what was in store for Lizzie now that she’d been caught. If she were to guess, there wouldn’t be much left of that pretty little face.
***
They passed through several more small towns on their journey, each of which boasted a sheriff’s office to keep order and protect the law-abiding citizens. It was obvious that the officers took their duties seriously.
As they rode along, the streets were filled with people hurrying about their business, children playing in the middle of the street, women carrying laundry on hampers, and dogs barking at the passersby.
She watched as the men stopped to talk to a passing woman and child. No sooner did they turn away from them than a pair of armed soldiers appeared behind them. She assumed they were looking for outlaws.
One of them raised his rifle as he walked forward slowly, then paused and stared at her when he saw her staring back at him. She held her ground and returned his gaze until he continued walking. Then she nodded to herself as he disappeared into the crowd. It seemed the threat of violence wasn’t always necessary to deter criminals.
The men stopped at one ranch house after another, checking on the residents and asking if anyone had heard of a fugitive being seen around town recently. After the last of the ranches they entered, the deputy spoke with the landowner who owned a few acres along the road and offered to buy the property from him as long as he didn’t mind leaving the buildings standing.
Sheriff Custer and the deputy rode up to the main road where two other lawmen awaited them. They all dismounted and stood watching as a lone rider approached the group with his horse’s reins held loosely in his hands. By the time the man reached them, he’d managed to mount his steed.
He looked like a cowboy, although not a very impressive one. His hat rested crookedly atop his head as he studied the three men with a bored expression. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he greeted them. “I hope I’m not disturbing anything.”
“Not at all,” the deputy said with a quick grin. “How are you enjoying your stay here in Montana?”
“Just fine. Thank you.” He tipped his hat politely as he slid onto his horse. “My name is Jim Corbett, sirs.” He waited expectantly, but no one responded to his greeting.
“You’re Mr. Corbett?” The deputy’s tone became stern. “Are you aware you’re wanted by the law? We found this woman near Fort Lincoln who claimed you were responsible for murdering a rancher. Have you any explanation for that?”
Corbett ignored him and gazed at the sheriff with a puzzled expression. “I don’t believe you,” he finally muttered, sounding confused.
Custer drew himself up as if preparing to deliver a lecture to an unruly student. “Mr. Corbett—”
“I’m not talking to you,” Corbett snarled, turning his attention to the sheriff. “Where’s my brother?”
A muscle throbbed in Custer’s jaw as he stared at Corbett with barely contained anger. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing.” The man shrugged as he glanced at the deputy. “But I would like to speak to him myself.”
Sheriff Custer swore under his breath and glared at Corbett. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to get past the fact that his brother was suspected of murder. He hadn’t realized it before, but he suddenly remembered how often Ben had mentioned the Corbetts. Now he wondered if his father’s feud with that family was why his own brother had died.
“Well,” the sheriff muttered as he turned away from Corbett and looked up and down the road, “if you’re so eager to see your brother again, why don’t you ride over to the sheriff’s office and ask him yourself?”
With his hands gripping his horse’s reins tightly, Corbett swung a booted foot out to steady his horse as he leaned forward. “You mean he doesn’t know where he is?”
“Your brother has been hiding for quite a while. You can ask him yourself if you want.” Sheriff Custer jerked his chin toward the other two deputies. “Why don’t you go over there and fetch him? Maybe it’ll help you clear up the confusion you seem to have with our current situation.”
As soon as Corbett began riding off, Deputy Denton stepped forward and grabbed hold of him. “Stop right there!”
Corbett halted and stared down at him with a blank expression. “What’s the problem, deputy?”
The officer’s face turned grim. “You’ve just committed a crime, and we need to take you into custody.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Corbett repeated in a calm voice. “I’m simply going home to find my brother.”
The deputy’s eyes widened as he stared at Corbett with a disbelieving look on his face. He released him and turned back to the sheriff and his deputy. “Sir, you should arrest him. This man could be a dangerous killer.”
Custer shook his head. “That might be true if we didn’t know better,” he said quietly. “This man saved our lives. He’s the one who rescued us from the Indian attack.”
Deputy Denton’s brows shot upward as he eyed Corbett suspiciously. “If he’s innocent, why won’t you let me arrest him?”
Sheriff Custer’s gaze shifted away from the man he once called brother. “Because I don’t believe the charges against him. I think he knows where his brother is—and if anyone can persuade him to come out of hiding, it’ll be that man.”
***
Sheriff Custer watched Corbett ride away through the dust-filled air. “He seems to be convinced we killed the rancher.”
The deputy nodded reluctantly. “It’s possible. We found the man’s body near the ranch house.”
“But it wasn’t his ranch,” Sheriff Custer snapped. “His name was J. T. Harper, but his family owns the place now. I’m sure they’ll give up the land to the Harpers when they find out what happened. They probably won’t even charge Corbett with murder.”
Denton gave a reluctant shrug as he rubbed at the stubble on his cheeks. “We found him lying near the house,” he reminded his boss. “And he was wearing a bulletproof vest.”
Sheriff Custer cursed under his breath as he gazed after Corbett and wondered if Ben was still alive. His brother had always protected him from their father’s wrath, and now it seemed likely that both brothers were dead because of his actions. “I wish I knew what to do with this man,” he murmured. “How many more people will die before he comes back?”
“Perhaps we should tell him to return to Texas,” Deputy Denton suggested in a low voice. “That would be best for everyone.”
Sheriff Custer glanced over at his deputy. “You would suggest giving up on finding your brother?”
“Of course not.” Denton scowled angrily. “There are plenty of good men looking for him right now. If we just give him back—”
“Then he’s free to kill others?” Custer asked quietly. “No, I’d rather have him here than anywhere else.”
“But that could make things worse.” Denton lowered his voice as he spoke. “You can’t forget about what happened between the Corbetts and the Harpers. The ranchers will probably blame Ben Corbett for his brother’s death.”
“Maybe so, but there’s no proof it was my brother who shot the rancher.”
Denton studied Corbett’s face and shook his head sadly. “That man is too dangerous for us to let him go. He needs to be arrested and brought into custody.”
Sheriff Custer stared down at his deputy as he considered Denton’s words. The deputy was right. There was no reason to keep Corbett here any longer; it would only serve to confuse things further. And he did seem to know where Ben was hiding.
“You’re right,” he agreed with an uneasy sigh. “Let’s get this mess straightened out as quickly as possible. We’re going to start by taking Corbett back to Denver City to see Judge Johnson.”
“Do you really think that’s wise?” Denton asked dubiously.
“Yes,” Sheriff Custer answered firmly. “This judge has already dealt with Corbett once before, and we know he’ll listen to him.”
The deputy’s frown deepened as he looked away toward the ranch house and barns, then slowly back to the sheriff. “Judge Johnson may know where Ben is hiding, but how long do you think he’ll be willing to help?”
“For starters, he owes his life to Corbett,” Sheriff Custer replied. “He’ll do anything he can to prevent anyone else from killing Corbett again.”
“If I remember correctly, Corbett killed the rancher before the judge intervened. What makes you so confident Judge Johnson won’t turn around and order him hanged for murder?”
“Because the law doesn’t allow the judge to interfere with justice,” Sheriff Custer told him. “And if the Corbetts decide to take the matter to court, we’ll be able to prove Corbett’s innocence. That would settle the question of guilt once and for all.”
“But that wouldn’t bring Ben home,” Denton pointed out quietly. “What if Judge Johnson orders the Corbetts to let him go? What will happen if he decides the ranchers have the right to hunt him down?”
Sheriff Custer didn’t hesitate before answering. “They won’t.” He paused, searching his mind for some sort of solution to this terrible dilemma. Finally, he decided on what he felt was best for everyone.
“We need to send a message to the Harpers letting them know what happened here today. It’s obvious that the Harpers will want to find out who killed their son.” He glanced at Denton. “We should let them know that we intend to press charges against Corbett for kidnapping, and possibly murder—if we can prove he was involved in the shooting.
Then we’ll ask for their cooperation in helping us find Ben.”
A faint smile crossed Denton’s lips as he nodded in agreement. “It might work,” he said hesitantly. “Or maybe it won’t. But either way, we have no choice but to try it.”
The End