mouth with a shaky hand, no longer looking at him. After considering a moment, Andrew went to the desk and pulled out a flask and shot glass. He filled the glass half full and handed it through the bars to DuBois.
DuBois looked at it, licked his lips and glanced at Andrew. “Obliged,” he said, reaching for the glass. He drank it back in one swallow. “Ain’t been worth much since—”
His watery eyes turned to Andrew again. “She’s right pretty, really. Always been a hard worker and not one to complain. Cooks real good, too. If you don’t want her for yourself, you could see she hooks up with someone decent. I’d a done it afore now, but she never showed no inclination to marry and, well, I wanted her around.”
Andrew turned away from the cell. He didn’t see how he could refuse. The damnedest thing was he did feel responsible. He had arrested the old man. He was going to lead him to the gallows.
He shook his head abruptly. That little wildcat could take care of herself!
DuBois persisted. “I’d rest easier, knowin’.”
Andrew cursed himself even as he answered, “I’ll look out for her.”
The ride back to the farm had seemed long and dismal. Cally couldn’t enjoy the quiet that settled around her as she left the town behind. She couldn’t take any pleasure in the lovely sunset or the light wind that rustled the dry leaves. She had left Pa behind. She had failed again.
He had been right, of course. She had known all along that she couldn’t just bring him home if she broke him out of jail. They would both have to run. Jewel was a wonderful mule, but her running days were over. They would have to trade her for something better as soon as possible.
And Queen, Royal’s old mother, wouldn’t want to leave the farm. Every evening when Cally went to see Pa, she told the old dog goodbye and prayed someone would come by and find her and the cow and the chickens soon.
Tears were threatening again, and she bit her lip. She didn’t want to give up! Pa hadn’t meant to hurt anybody. She had promised the judge that she would watch him better if they would let her take him home. Even as she had pleaded, she had known he wasn’t listening. What was done, was done, and Pa wasn’t going to get a second chance.
The road dropped down to ford a small creek and Jewel and Royal splashed across the little trickle of water. Once they were away from the trees Cally could see the apple tree on the hill silhouetted in the distance, then the dark shape of the barn. As she rode closer the farmstead seemed to welcome her.
The little sod house Pa had built so long ago when Ma was still alive was the only home Cally could remember. She knew it wasn’t fancy or pretty, but it was the best soddy there ever was. People didn’t expect a soddy to last nearly as long as this one had. Pa had talked of building a real cabin, but she had never counted on it. This had been enough for the two of them.
The old barn had a leaky roof and the tiny chicken coop was barely tight enough to keep critters out, but this was home. This was where she was safe and happy, tending her garden and her animals, which were her only friends. That was as much as she had ever expected to do. But she had always expected Pa to be here with her.
Cally slid off Jewel’s back and led her into the barn. She had already done the chores, but she checked on Belle, the milk cow, and made sure the barn door was securely closed.
Royal was beside her as she walked to the house. Queen came to her feet at the threshold, and followed them inside. As soon as the door was closed, Queen spread herself out against the door, resuming her previous position, this time inside.
Cally moved a chair out of her way and sat down on her bunk. Its side and head were against the paper-covered dirt wall, and Pa’s bunk was across from it. The two were so close, a tall man might sit on one and rest his feet on the other. The trunk under the window barely fit between the two bunks. Clothes hung from pegs above the beds and on either side of the window.
A woodstove, table, two chairs and some crate shelves filled the rest of the house. Once in a while Cally noticed how tiny and crowded it was. Not lately, though. Lately it seemed almost empty.
She shook herself and rose, quickly getting ready for bed. As soon as she blew out the lamp, Royal came to lie on the floor beside her bed. The two dogs made her feel safe, and she slept almost instantly.
Early in the morning, Cally opened the door, letting the dogs out and the fresh air in. She dressed in the same clothes she had worn the day before and started her morning chores. By the time the sun was completely over the horizon, she had milked Belle and staked her and Jewel in grass for the day. She had fed the chickens, letting them out of the little coop into the pen, and had checked the fence, as she did every morning, for any signs that a raccoon had tried to find a way in.
Her own breakfast came last. She fixed a small bowl of corn meal mush, adding fresh cream. She carried it outside and sat in the old rocker to eat it. She liked to think of the little area in front of the house as her front porch, though its floor was dirt like the rest of her yard—and house, for that matter. Pa had built a little sunshade above the door, and set out an old table. Since the house was so crowded, Cally worked outside as much as possible. She would be confined enough to the small space inside all winter.
She thought of Pa, confined to his tiny cell, and gritted her teeth. It had been weeks since his arrest, but she still expected to find him sleeping on his cot every time she stepped into the cabin.
With a sigh she looked out at her garden. That and the animals would be the hardest things to leave. She loved her garden, and it had been good to her this summer. Her vines were loaded with ripe tomatoes waiting to be picked, and she had several jars of cucumber pickles, corn and beans already stored for winter.
“Stored away for whoever finds them,” she said aloud. “‘Cause we ain’t staying.” Last night she had almost given up, but this morning she was as determined as ever to save Pa. There wasn’t anything else a daughter could do. She would go into town again toward evening.
But what weapons did she have left? The ax? The shotgun? The one knife she used to cut her food?
Royal sprawled on the ground and yawned noisily. She turned to stare at him. He twitched his ears at her scrutiny. “You wanna take on that coldhearted sheriff, boy?” she asked. She tried to picture it but couldn’t. Sure, the dog could be threatening enough if she was in danger, but she wasn’t sure he would actually attack.
Royal yawned again, giving her a good look at his sharp white teeth. The thought of them sinking into somebody’s—anybody’s—flesh made her shiver. Could Royal just scare the sheriff into letting Pa go? She remembered Haywood’s cool gaze. He was so sure of himself, she couldn’t imagine him scared. She was afraid she knew what he would do. He would shoot poor Royal, cold-blooded killer that he was.
She couldn’t put Royal in danger. She would have to think of something else. Maybe she was going about this wrong. Maybe she should burn down the sheriffs house at the edge of town to create a distraction. She shook her head. She couldn’t quite see herself being that destructive.
With a sigh, she got up to take her bowl inside. Queen raised her head, and Cally stopped to ruffle her soft brown fur. Queen let her tongue fall out of her mouth to show her pleasure.
She was about to step over Queen when Royal barked. The dog was watching a tiny figure leave the road at the creek.
“Early for company,” Cally commented, stepping over Queen and entering the soddy. She didn’t look toward the empty cot. In a moment, she stepped outside carrying Pa’s double-barreled shotgun. Pa had taught her that she could never be too careful, and she had no reason to expect friendly callers.
Cally returned in the rocking chair and laid the gun across her lap. She watched the figure become a horse and rider and eventually Sheriff Haywood on his sorrel mare. The moment she recognized him, she stood, bringing the stock to her shoulder.
Andrew pulled the mare to a stop at