Andrew grew very still. “You mean the drink I gave him killed him?”
“It’s possible.”
Dr. Briggs did not seem to realize how horrifying this news was to Andrew. “You didn’t mention this last night,” he said.
“Things got a little hectic last night.” The doctor seemed to finally notice Andrew’s expression. “Look, Sheriff, it’s just a theory. Even if it’s true, no one could think it was anything but an accident. Besides, the man was going to hang in a few days.”
Andrew nodded and rose to go. Sure, it was a minor detail. It wouldn’t matter to anyone—but him and Cally.
He thanked the doctor and headed back downtown, hoping his visit with the attorney would be more rewarding. He climbed the stairs to Mr. Cobb’s office and, after waiting a few minutes, was ushered into the inner office.
Cobb stood and shook his hand motioning him to a seat. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
“I need some advice,” Andrew said as he was seated.
Cobb smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“A dying man asked me to look after his daughter,” Andrew said. “What are my legal obligations?”
Cobb stared at him a moment, and Andrew wondered if this sounded foolish to the attorney. Finally Cob asked, “Were there witnesses?”
“No.” Andrew shifted forward in the seat. “I’m not trying to get out of this. I want to do right by her.”
A feral smile slowly formed on Cobb’s lips. “The DuBois girl, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “There’s a little land involved, if my memory serves. As her legal guardian you would control that.”
Andrew was too surprised to object.
Cobb pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and began making notes. “Is there family likely to come forward and challenge your right of guardianship?”
“No. You don’t—”
“How old is the girl?” Cobb didn’t look up from his notes. When Andrew didn’t answer, he prompted, “Marriageable age?”
“Perhaps. Mr. Cobb, I’m not trying to steal the girl’s land. I—”
“Of course you’re not.” Cobb finally looked up and winked. Andrew wanted to close the eye with his fist. “My suggestion is to see the girl married and demand a percentage for looking after her affairs. Forty is reasonable.”
Andrew made one last effort to explain. “I simply want to know what my responsibilities are to the girl.”
Mr. Cobb shook his head. “Not many, really. You’ll want to do a few conspicuous acts of guardianship for this to hold up in court should someone challenge it. But DuBois was poor white trash. It doesn’t take much to convince that kind you’re on their side.”
Andrew gritted his teeth. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the attorney what he thought of his advice. Swearing at attorneys—or anyone else—wasn’t his normal behavior. He took a deep breath. Perhaps the man could still be of help. “I thought, perhaps, I’d help the girl find a job.”
“Oh, that’s a good start.”
Andrew tried to ignore the interruption. “Have you heard of any openings?”
Cobb was making notes again. “You might try the saloons. Is the girl at all pretty?”
Andrew had to get out of there before he did hit the man.
“Thank you, Mr. Cobb. You’ve been very informative.”
As he rose to go, Cobb said, “I can have the papers drawn up for you and signed by a judge in just a few days.”
“Don’t bother.”
“But—”
Andrew closed the door, cutting off the attorney. He started through the outer office then turned back to the clerk, who eyed him curiously. “Are you aware of anyone looking to employ a young woman?” he asked. “Domestic help, perhaps?”
The young clerk considered a moment. “Seems like there hasn’t been much in the paper lately, except your search for a deputy.” He grinned and Andrew pictured Cally applying along with every other misfit in town.
Andrew had turned to go when the clerk spoke again. “Wait. The Gwynns. I heard them talking to Mr. Cobb some time ago. They didn’t want to advertise it, but they need a housekeeper. They’re getting on in years and the house and meals and all are too much to handle. I’m surprised Mr. Cobb didn’t mention them.”
“I’m not,” Andrew mumbled. “Thanks.” He returned the clerk’s smile and left, walking thoughtfully down the stairs. So much for learning his legal obligations. He would have to follow his own instincts. And his instincts told him a young woman, marriageable age or not, could not take care of herself on a farm two miles from town. He headed straight for the Gwynn sisters’ home.
“Why, Sheriff Haywood. What brings you here?” The short stocky Easter Gwynn had opened the door. Noella appeared behind her, looking over her sister’s shoulder.
“I understand that you ladies are interested in hiring a housekeeper.”
Easter opened the door a little wider. “Why, yes, we are. Come in. Can we fix you some tea?”
“No, ma’am.” Andrew followed the sisters into the parlor and sat on the edge of an uncomfortable but elegant chair. “I know of a girl who’s been recently orphaned. She needs to find a position.”
Easter smiled. Noella frowned. “Who is this person?” the latter asked.
Andrew almost cringed. “Cally DuBois.”
The women looked at each other. No shock or horror was visible on their faces. Andrew wondered if they might not know who Cally was. That would make it easier, he thought, then felt guilty. He shouldn’t be deceiving little old ladies.
“Isn’t that the waif that sells the pies?” Easter asked.
“I believe so,” said her sister.
“Imagine,” breathed Easter.
“How soon can she start?” Noella asked, folding her hands primly on her narrow lap.
Andrew was surprised enough to ask, “You know her?”
“We know of her,” Noella corrected.
“She’s the best cook in the county,” Easter said. Andrew was sure she started to lick her lips.
Noella spoke again. “I believe my sister asked when she could start.”
“I don’t know.” Andrew felt a need to caution the ladies. “Cally—” What did he plan to say? Cally’s a hellion? He grimaced. “Cally…hasn’t agreed to it yet.”
“Well.” Noella came to her feet. “I will show you around, and you can convince the girl for us.”
He followed the woman into a large modern kitchen, with Easter right behind him. “We will expect her to cook and clean,” Noella said. “It won’t be hard work. We’re both healthy and don’t need to be waited on hand and foot.”
“Her room will be back here,” said Easter, opening a door off the kitchen.
“It’s very nice,” he said. He had to tell them. He took a deep breath. “In fact, it’s much nicer than what she’s used to. Ladies, Miss DuBois has grown up in a soddy. I’m afraid she’s…got a few rough edges.” Did that really say what he meant?
Noella and Easter exchanged a look again. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. We’ll civilize her,” Noella asserted.