Page 77 of Wyoming Promises
“So?”
Jake ran a hand over his face, the bristling of his stubble mingling with the rustling leaves. “He’s not going to let her go that easily, Bridger. He’d likely come after the three of you, anyway, and you’d lose the protection of the town.”
Bridger slumped. He’d exhausted his mind racing through all these scenarios already but had hoped...and prayed...that the marshal held the key to make them workable. If the Lord took any interest in the lives He’d given folks, it provided the only hope he could latch on to. “So what do we do?”
“We tell Lola. Quietly, mind you, and let her decide. I see her as the one person in Quiver Creek strong enough to stand against Ike Tyler.”
Bridger pushed hair from his forehead and crushed the brim of his hat in the other hand. “But what if she’s not?”
“Once other businessmen realize a woman is being pressured, it might make them willing to come forward, band together,” Jake suggested.
“Don’t you think they could’ve done that already if they were willing?”
“Listen, Bridger. My chance to keep this quiet is about up. Tyler keeps close tabs on this town, and if he doesn’t suspect me yet, he soon will.”
Bridger replaced the hat on his head, rocking it back and forth to a proper tilt. “So let him. The town would at least be rid of him.”
“What about people in those other towns?” Jake stepped closer, his voice low in the shadows. “What about seeing justice for all the people Ike Tyler has hurt and robbed in the name of gaining power and wealth? Good people who tried to get where we are in this case when Ike and his associates killed them? A friend of mine died here, pulling evidence. Mr. Martin was his contact person. I suspect Pete McKenna and Cecil Anthony got too close, as well.”
Bridger groaned. The marshal didn’t fight fair. As bad as he wanted to, he’d never be able to face himself in the mirror if he didn’t do all he could to put Ike behind bars, where he belonged. And Marshal Anderson knew it.
Bridger conceded with a grim nod. “This plan of yours sounds like an awful lot of wishing and hoping to me, and not much else.”
“That’s where my faith comes into play.” Jake had the audacity to smile with a look of victory. “The only way to win this battle is to fight on our knees.”
* * *
Bridger slumped against a tree and rubbed his head in both hands. “I only have to convince her to give me the money? Do you have any idea what this will do to her, coming from me?” Not to mention what it would do to him delivering the terms of payment.
“I promise you, I’ll be there within the hour to explain everything,” Jake said. “But if we go in together, someone could see us. If I go first and she doesn’t agree to help, you go back to Tyler empty-handed. It’s got to be this way.”
Bridger knew it made more sense than any other idea they’d kicked around. It didn’t mean he had to like it.
Jake jotted some notes. “Be convincing, Bridger. I’ll take Grace along and tell her and Lola both what’s going on. If you and I can keep from crossing paths, Ike may not put it together right away, and that gives us a little time.”
“Unless he already suspects you. Toby’s barely lost sight of my backside since Ike told me to collect from Lola, Jake. I’m telling you, I don’t like this.”
Jake grinned, a little madness gleaming in his eyes. “All the more reason to conclude this case soonest.”
Bridger nodded and rubbed his neck, muscles stiff as an oak board. “All right.”
Jake climbed into the saddle, settling with a creak. “This isn’t the end for you with Lola. She’ll forgive you once she realizes why you’re doing this.”
“I hope so.”
“Sounds like you could use some faith,” Jake said. “You have until tomorrow to figure it out. I’ll be at her place by eight o’clock. You be gone by seven.”
Bridger threw a pebble into the dark ripples at the river’s edge. “I know what needs done. I just want this whole mess behind me.”
Jake trotted away from the stand of trees on his horse, leaving Bridger at the water’s edge. Having a plan of action helped but gave him no certainty as to the outcome. The entire case could fall apart at his feet.
“Lord,” he prayed, “it shames me to come to You now that I’ve made such a mess of things. Forgive me. I see where so much of this could’ve been prevented had I asked Your guidance from the start. But this is the tangle I’m in. I understand there are consequences for the way I’ve been living, turning my back on Your love and wisdom, and I’ll accept whatever You, in Your mercy, send my way. But, Lord, let it fall on me. Don’t punish Frank for my mistakes, and keep Lola safe. And please, Jesus, let this work.”