Page 85 of Wyoming Promises
Grace’s eyes glazed. Then she rocked forward, face crumpled in pain. “In the buckboard! That box your father made us for our wedding present. Pete kept it locked under the seat, but I believe he kept a journal there. Sometimes if he was gone for a time, he’d share some of what he wrote with me when he returned. But he always placed it back in that box. Maybe—”
A sudden cry doubled Grace over.
“What’s wrong?” Lola moved her hands across Grace’s quivering midsection. She read the panic in her eyes in an instant and knew the truth. “Contractions?”
Grace nodded, tears escaping down her cheeks. “It’s too early, Lola. The baby—he can’t come now!”
“Shh, shh...” she soothed. “It’s not much too early, and with all you’ve been through tonight alone, it’s made him in a hurry to find what this big old world is all about.” Her insides quaked. “There’s plenty of time. I’ll go back to the jail, and Jake can fetch Doc Kendall. They’ll be here in plenty of time for that baby to come.”
Grace’s fingers dug into her arm, mouth parted in a silent cry. “Please, I can’t lose the baby. He’s all I have left of Pete!”
Lola helped her friend move to the stairway banister. “You go up and crawl in my bed.” She grabbed her shawl from the hook by the door. “I’ll be back in a jiffy and wait with you for the doctor. We’ll pray together. You and this baby will both be fine, you hear me?”
Grace managed a tremulous smile and began her waddle up the steps. Lola gave a short wave and swung the door open, then jolted.
Ike blocked her at the door. “Now, now, my dear...”
The pulse in her neck jumped and hot dread sank to her toes. “What are you doing here?”
“The marshal wouldn’t want you traipsing about, not after he established a strict curfew.” His cigar puffed in her face, adding to her irritation. “It’s my role to support the law in Quiver Creek. You know that.”
She glanced at Grace, who stood frozen at the bottom step. “We need the doctor. She’s in labor.”
Ike pushed his way past her, knocking Lola into the edge of the davenport. “I don’t think there’s any need for that yet,” he said. “Though it does make the story all the more tragic.” The gleam in his eyes did little to hide the black depths of his evil stare.
A dry throat choked off her strangled breath. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Ike said, swirling his cigar in the air. “It’s just a greater shame that the good marshal will find not only our comely undertaker, but her dearest friend, as well.”
Lola sensed his intent, but her voice slogged through the thickness in her throat to catch up. “Find us?”
“Oh, yes, he’ll find you dead soon after Bridger Jamison arrives,” Ike said. “Right on time to take the blame.”
* * *
Stars provided the only light overhead and the mountains stood a shade darker against the night sky. The rush of wind blew loud with no sounds of the town to compete.
The horse tied in front of Lola’s place caught Bridger’s eye as soon as they rounded the bend. A glance at Jake’s shadowed face told him he’d seen it, too.
“Looks a mite small to be your horse,” Bridger said.
Jake nodded. “It is. I left mine at Grace’s place. We drove to town in her wagon.”
Bridger glanced at Frank, who straggled beside them. Maybe Jake should have won the argument to leave his brother behind at the jail.
Except he’d convinced Jake Ike’s men wouldn’t be stopped by a few cell bars. Now he wasn’t so sure Frank stayed any safer by trailing along.
Jake’s pace never wavered. “Ike’s?”
“Yep.”
The marshal checked his pistol. “You wait outside.”
Bridger grabbed his arm and spun him with surprise. “Let me try first. He’ll know you’re onto him the minute he spies you, and he could hurt those ladies. I have the money from Lola. If I convince him I’m looking for my cut, we have a chance to get them out first.”
Jake pulled his hat brim low on his face. “That’s a big ‘if.’”
He threw Jake’s earlier words back at him. “Where’s your faith?”
A low huff of air whispered on the wind. “Back at the river, when we were talking about you.”
Frank scratched his head and wobbled from foot to foot. “Don’t seem like a good plan, Bridge.”
He whipped his gaze to his brother and sensed Jake’s attention shift, too. “It’s the best we have. Besides, with you and Jake both out here praying for me, backing me up, how can it not work out?”