need. You ain’t staying.”
Andrew wasn’t surprised at the unfriendly words. The gun he hadn’t counted on, though he probably should have. He would have to get it out of her hands before he told her what he had come for. He caught himself rubbing the cut on his arm and slowly settled his hand on the pommel.
“Miss DuBois, I’ll only keep you a moment. If you like, I’ll stay in the saddle, but I’d appreciate it if you would put the shotgun down.”
It seemed to take the girl forever to decide. Andrew was almost tempted to smile at the picture she made. The squat little soddy seemed a perfect backdrop for the ragamuffin and her long-haired dogs, which could nearly pass as coyotes. The girl’s face was hidden by the brim of the floppy hat, but he would bet she had him sighted down the barrel of the gun.
He found himself wanting to sketch the scene and mentally shook himself. It had been too long since he had indulged in his favorite hobby. How could he possibly want a picture of this scruffy trio?
Finally Cally lowered the shotgun and leaned it against the wall behind her. He knew she didn’t trust him and had a feeling she would stay within easy reach of the gun. “State your piece,” she said.
Andrew took a deep breath. “It’s your father, miss. I came to tell you he…died last night.”
Andrew watched Cally stare at him. She had gone as pale as she had in his office when she nearly fainted. “Miss?” he asked. He wanted to rush to her side, but he didn’t want to be shot.
“It…it’s not Saturday. Why? I…I don’t understand.”
The stammered words helped him make up his mind. Andrew swung off his horse and strode to her, ignoring the dog’s low growl. “I’m sorry, miss. You better sit down.”
“You better explain, mister.” Cally straightened and looked him in the eye. Andrew blinked at the change. Her face was still pale, but the green eyes gazed steadily into his. He had been inches away from taking her in his arms, prepared to comfort a weeping child. He eased back a little instead.
“We’re not sure what happened, miss. I got Dr. Briggs as soon as I knew something was wrong. Doc said he thought it might have been his heart.” The doctor had also said the old drunk might have been so used to alcohol he couldn’t live without it, but Andrew didn’t think that would be much comfort to the daughter.
Cally stared hard at him as if trying to determine if he told the truth. “I’ll drop over to the doctor’s when I’m in town. Hear what he has to say,” she said.
Andrew watched her. She was trying to be brave, but he wasn’t fooled. The poor girl shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. “You could ride into town with me.”
“I got work to do. I’ll be along later.” She was suddenly occupied with the larger of her two scruffy dogs. “Where is he?” she whispered.
“He’s laid out it the back of the Furniture House.” Andrew considered her a moment. “Miss, can I send for anyone? A friend?”
“Got none. You can leave, now. I won’t shoot you as you go.” Her voice was soft but it didn’t crack.
With a nod, Andrew walked to his horse, but turned back. “Miss, your father asked me to look out for you. I hate to leave you alone.”
“I was alone before you came. I’ve been alone for weeks.”
She spoke without looking at him. The hat brim hid her entire face, and all Andrew could see of Cally besides the ill-fitting clothes was the small rough hands that rubbed the dog’s neck.
“I’ll be out tomorrow,” he said. He wasn’t sure she had heard. He mounted and turned the mare toward town. One of the dogs barked once to encourage him on his way.
Cally didn’t look up until she knew he had left. She watched his horse become a blur as her eyes filled with tears. “We won’t need a plan now, will we, Royal?”
Royal leaned against her leg to offer comfort. She rubbed the soft warm head. “It don’t hardly seem possible, Pa’d just die.”
Cally brushed at her tears with her shirtsleeve. Turning, she lifted the shotgun and carried it inside, hanging it in its place above the door. Back outside she slumped into the rocking chair.
She stared at the ford over the creek where Haywood had disappeared. This was somehow his fault. A sheriff was supposed to take care of his prisoners, not let them die in their cells.
The tears were forming again, and she squinted her eyes to try to stop them. The realization that she wouldn’t have to leave her home came to her and she brushed it away guiltily.
Royal’s whine drew her attention. The dog slunk to her side, cautiously placing his head on her lap. She ruffled his fur and looked into the big, sad eyes. “I gotta talk to the undertaker,” she muttered. “And the doctor.” Her tears dried quickly. “Yes, I want to talk to that doctor.”
When Cally rode into Salina an hour later, she wondered if she shouldn’t have waited until evening. There was much more activity than she was used to. The little two-wheeled cart Jewel pulled bounced noisily over the rutted streets, drawing even more stares in her direction.
When she slid off Jewel’s back in front of Lafferty’s, Royal crowded her against the mule, and Cally had to push the dog out of the way before she could reach the hitching post.
The door to the feed store stood open, and Cally stepped inside. “Mr. Lafferty?”
“Would that be Cally, come to visit an old man?” Mr. Lafferty walked slowly toward her from the darkness of the back of the store.
Royal barked a cheerful greeting.
“Heard about yer papa, lass,” the old man said. “‘Twas a sorry thing.” He laid a bony hand on her shoulder and added softly, “Still, I’m glad he didna hang.”
Cally felt the tears sting her eyes and pretended it was the oat dust that caused it. “I’ve come to town to see him. Sheriff Haywood says he’s at the Furniture House.”
She was grateful Mr. Lafferty knew her well enough to realize that was a question. “It’s just three doors down from me, lass. It has the tall red sign. The carpenters are undertakers as well, y’see, and they’ll fix yer papa up nice. Would ye want me to be goin’ wi’ ye, lass?”
“No, thanks,” Cally said quickly. The fewer witnesses, the better.
Mr. Lafferty’s weak eyes narrowed, and she wondered what he was thinking. After a moment he patted her shoulder. “Ye know ye can be countin’ on me if’n ye need anythin’.”
“I know,” was all she could say before the lump in her throat choked off her voice. She touched the old hand briefly then hurried into the sunlight. The brightness brought more tears to her eyes, and she hid beside Jewel as she brushed them away.
Rubbing the mule’s nose, Cally looked up and down the street, quickly locating the tall red sign. She studied it and felt a wave of dread. Once she saw Pa’s body there could be no more hoping he wasn’t dead.
It would make more sense to talk to the doctor first, she decided quickly. Cally had been to Dr. Briggs’s home after a couple of Pa’s fights and knew it was just a few blocks away. She started down the street with Royal trying valiantly to turn her back.
“It’s all right, boy,” she murmured, patting Royal’s head. The dog relented but growled low in his throat whenever someone passed too close to his charge. Several ladies stepped clear off the boardwalk to let them pass.