Gerda's Lawman Read online

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-59310-250-X

  Copyright © 2004 by Lena Nelson Dooley. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  One

  April 1896

  Frank Daggett sure hoped that was a town up ahead and not a mirage. He had been in the saddle so long he felt as if it were fused to the seat of his pants. Finally, he could have a bath, a shave, a hot meal, and a real bed. In that order. But the long ride had been worth it. Although he was bone weary, he could sense that indefinable excitement he always felt when he was about to catch his prey. Pierre Le Blanc and his daughter had to be just ahead. His two daughters, if Frank had it figured right. Litchfield, Minnesota, was the end of the line. For him and for the Le Blancs—in more ways than one.

  Litchfield looked like a nice enough town, and Frank hoped it wouldn’t take very long to bring the Le Blancs to justice. He was ready to get on with his life, and he couldn’t until he had finished this one chore. Although he was only thirty years old, he felt ancient. He had seen enough to age him beyond his years. Bad people and their evil deeds had hardened him so much he hardly knew who he was anymore—certainly not the idealistic young man who became a U.S. Marshal all those years ago. He didn’t even know where he belonged. Maybe when he finished this quest he could find out. For the first time in over ten years, he could have a life of his own, complete with a home and family, like most men his age.

  Because of his obsession with catching Pierre Le Blanc and his daughters, he was no longer a marshal. The Old Man had given him a choice: Give up this pursuit or turn in his badge. The head of the U.S. Marshals taught Frank everything he knew about being a lawman. And like all of the marshals, he had tremendous respect for his superior. Frank had only disagreed with the Old Man about one thing—his decision that the U.S. Marshals would stop pursuing the Le Blancs.

  With great reluctance, Frank had removed the star. Since then, he had been on his own as he followed the trail of this confidence man and his family. It was a good thing that Frank had saved so much of his pay over the years and his needs were negligible. A lot of his money remained in a bank back East, waiting for him to get to the point where he could start living a real life. He wouldn’t have to worry about finances while he was establishing himself.

  Sometimes he had been so close to catching these criminals that he could almost taste victory. But he always arrived after they had left the vicinity. Then it would take him awhile to find their trail again. They committed crimes in such a way that no one could prove they did it. That was why Frank had finally figured out there had to be two girls. And they must be twins to look that much alike. It was the only way they could have pulled off so many seemingly perfect crimes. But Frank knew that there were no perfect crimes. It was about time this family was brought to justice, and he was the man to do that very thing.

  Frank stopped his horse in front of the first hotel he came to. He looked up at the second-story windows. They even sported curtains. It was a high-class establishment—nicer than many of the places he had stayed during this long quest. After tying the reins of his mount to the hitching post, he removed his saddlebags from the horse and slung them across his shoulder. He stepped up on the high boardwalk without bothering to go down to where steps had been built. His legs were long enough, and he was too tired to go even that much farther. The steady beat of his boots on the boards and the jingle of his spurs accompanied him through the door. His whole body itched and he was eager to remove his traveling gear and put on clean clothes.

  A young man sat behind the hotel’s front desk, writing something in a book. His head was bent forward, and Frank was sure the man didn’t even know anyone was around until Frank dropped his saddlebags on the counter.

  “I’d like a room.”

  The man looked startled as he slammed the book shut and glanced up. He stood and pulled the hotel register from a shelf under the counter. “Do you want a room that looks out on the street or one in the back where it’s quieter?”

  Frank wished he could say, “In the back,” but he needed to be able to keep an eye on the town’s comings and goings. That was the only way he could keep a lookout for the Le Blancs. He just hoped this wasn’t another town where rowdy cowboys came to drink late into the night.

  “In the front would be fine.” Frank reached for his wallet. “Do I need to pay now?”

  “How long are you staying?” The man smiled up at Frank.

  “I’m not really sure. How about if I pay you for a week, and we’ll see if I need to be here longer?”

  The man pushed the register book toward Frank, handed him a pen, and moved the ink well closer to him. “That would be fine, Mister. . .” He watched as Frank wrote his name. “Daggett. That’ll be five dollars for the week. You’re in room three.” He turned around and retrieved the key from the numbered cubbyhole behind him.

  “Where’s the best place to get a bath, a shave, and a meal?”

  ❧

  Gerda Nilsson was just putting the finishing touches on her hairdo when August knocked at the door of the apartment. She shoved one last hairpin into the style to anchor it before she answered the door.

  “I’m coming.” Thick carpet muffled her footsteps as she crossed the parlor. She opened the door and hugged her brother. “Why didn’t you just use your key?”

  August returned her hug, then stood back. “I only kept the key because you insisted. It’s a good idea for me to check on things for you when you’re out at the farm, since you’re living here alone. But I won’t use it for any other reason. You deserve your privacy, too.” He looked around the apartment that had also been his wife’s home before they married. “I like what you’ve done with the place. It really expresses your personality.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.” Gerda gave a low curtsy. She and her brother had always enjoyed a playful relationship.

  He bowed slightly and nodded. “Are you ready, milady?” August picked up her jacket from the claret-colored velvet settee. He helped her into the wrap, opened the door, and escorted her down the stairs and into the warm spring twilight.

  Gerda placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked across the street to the hotel. “It was really nice of Anna to offer to keep Gustaf and Olina’s children so we could take them out to dinner for their anniversary.”

  “She loves those two little ones. Ja, for sure. And I do, too. They come over to our house a lot, since we live so close.”

  When they entered the hotel lobby, Gerda looked around the room. She didn’t come here often, but she had always liked the friendly, yet elegant, atmosphere. The gaslights around the walls gave a warm glow to the plush carpeting and matching wallpaper. Several potted plants enhanced the décor’s sense of opulence. Whenever she came to the hotel, its air of sophistication made her feel that Litchfield was as cosmopolitan as Chicago or New York City.

  Gerda’s attention was drawn to a man beginning to descend the stairs. He was taller than any man she had ever seen. Although his body was lean, it was muscular. His face was dark and clean-shaven except for a neat mustache. He must spend a lot of time in
the sun. The top of his forehead was lighter than the rest of his tanned face, evidence that he wore a cowboy hat most of the time. He wasn’t dressed like a cowboy, but as he walked down the stairs, he had that bowlegged gait of a man who spent most of his life on horseback. His luxurious, thick dark hair looked wet and was slicked back, but separate locks were pulling into strong waves as they dried.

  For some inexplicable reason, she felt drawn to him. Her fingers tingled with the desire to brush back an errant curl that had drooped over his strong forehead. She had never felt that way about any man. For a moment, she held her breath in wonder. His most arresting feature—his eyes—were a clear, icy blue. When his gaze met hers, something passed between them that was both exciting and disturbing. Uncomfortable, Gerda quickly looked away.

  What is wrong with me? Maybe it was because all her friends had soul mates, and she wanted one, too. Why did some stranger affect her this way? Gerda was glad that Gustaf and Olina arrived at that moment, and the four of them went into the dining room. She tried to dismiss the man from her thoughts.

  ❧

  Frank stopped halfway down the stairs. What had just happened? He was going to the hotel restaurant to get something to eat, minding his own business, when a vision of loveliness entered the lobby. Her beauty almost took his breath away. He had seen those new calendars painted by the artist named Gibson. She looked as if she had just stepped out of one. She was the right size with curves in all the right places. Her delicate features proclaimed class and character. Her light blond hair was formed into a poufy style and had a cluster of curls nested in the crown. Curly tendrils brushed her cheeks and neck where he wished he could place his lips. He could just imagine what the silky strands would feel like. He would have to stop thinking like that!

  When she looked into his eyes, he had felt something he had never felt before. Something that crackled through the room, almost sucking out all the air leaving nothing to breathe. He wondered if anyone else had sensed it. He glanced around, but no one was paying either of them any attention.

  Frank wasn’t looking for a relationship yet. If he found one, or one found him, it would have to be a relationship with no strings attached, at least until his mission was over. He wasn’t ready to settle down, and that girl had strings dangling off her so long they would really hog-tie a man. Frank almost turned around and went back to his room, but just then his stomach rumbled so loudly he was sure everyone within a mile radius could hear it. He had to get something to eat. If only she and her companions hadn’t gone into the dining room.

  Frank continued toward the open doorway of the restaurant. His attention was drawn to the table where the woman and her friends were sitting. It was a good thing they were on one side of the room. He would just choose a table on the other side, and that would be the end of it. With the decision made, he looked around the room for an empty table.

  He hadn’t thought that this town would have many people staying at a hotel, but there were plenty in the restaurant. Perhaps this is why Le Blanc was here. Evidently, Litchfield had some affluent citizens. Most of these people were dressed in more expensive clothing than he’d seen in many places. Finally, he spied an empty table on the exact opposite side of the room from where the woman and her party sat. With the large dining area separating them, he could almost forget she was there.

  However, when Frank walked across the room and selected a place to sit, he chose a chair that gave him a clear view of the beauty. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until the waitress came to take his order.

  “My name is Molly.” The grandmotherly woman smiled at him. She raised her voice to be heard over the din of voices and silverware clanking against dishes in the background. “You’re new to town, aren’t you? You look like you could use a good meal.”

  Frank nodded, ignoring her question. No one needed to know his business. “What do you have?”

  While the woman recited a list of items, Frank couldn’t keep from glancing at the beauty seated across the room. When Molly stopped talking, all he could remember her saying was “pot roast.”

  “I’ll have the roast beef.” Frank looked up into her kind eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had any.”

  “We get lots of travelers through here.” Molly’s eyes twinkled as she talked. “They always appreciate a good hot meal.” She started to walk off then turned back toward him. “Our cook makes hot rolls that will melt in your mouth. And we have plenty of butter to go with them.”

  “That’ll be better than the hardtack I’ve been eating.” Frank had enough of that in the past few weeks to last a lifetime.

  When the waitress went to get him a cup of coffee, he glanced toward the table where the vision of loveliness sat. Her every move was grace itself. Her dainty hand fluttered like a butterfly on its way to pick up her glass of water. When she turned to speak to the man on her left, she cocked her head toward him, revealing a profile that looked just liked his mother’s cameo. It was the only thing he still owned that had belonged to her, and it was precious to him. He kept that cameo locked in a safe-deposit box in the bank where his savings were.

  “Here’s your coffee, sir.” Molly set the steaming china cup and its saucer in front of him. He glanced up at her, almost sorry for the interruption of his thoughts.

  “Thank you.” At least he was able to remember his manners. He picked up the cup and took a sip. He liked his coffee hot and strong, but not too strong. This coffee was just right. He set the cup down and looked back across the room.

  Why did he torture himself this way? That woman had an escort. She might be married. But somehow he didn’t think she was. He had spent too many years watching people not to know the signs. And there was no indication that the couple was married or even romantically involved. The other couple at the table was another matter. Marriage screamed from every look and touch they shared.

  When Frank glanced around the room again, his gaze stopped on a man who just had to be a banker. No one else in the room wore a waistcoat with a gold watch chain draped across it. Litchfield must have a healthy economy from the looks of this man. Just the kind of town Le Blanc preyed on. Frank wondered if these people had any idea what they were in for. He had to stop the Le Blanc gang before they destroyed any more lives.

  His attention quickly returned to the woman sitting across the room. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.

  “Here you are.” The waitress set his meal in front of him. “Some folks say we serve the finest food west of the Mississippi.”

  “That sounds good to me.” Frank smiled up at her before picking up his fork.

  Steam rose from the plate, bringing with it the pleasant aroma of roast beef. Carrots and potatoes, covered with a generous helping of a rich, brown gravy, surrounded the meat. There was nothing he liked better than a good gravy. His stomach growled again. This time louder. He hoped the group across the room couldn’t hear it.

  The first bite was heavenly. He chewed it slowly, savoring the almost forgotten flavors that reminded him of just how much he had given up to bring Le Blanc to justice. He hoped that, at last, this would be the town where he would arrest the man and his daughters.

  The waitress returned with a dish of butter and a basket of hot yeast rolls. “Don’t forget to save room for dessert. Tonight we have apple pie.”

  Could life get any better than this? Frank took his time eating. He wanted to enjoy every minute of this good food. But more than that, he decided to just relax and enjoy watching the beautiful woman. Who knew? Someday he would be ready to settle down. Someday maybe he would find a woman much like her to marry.

  ❧

  When they were seated at a table in the dining room, Gerda decided to forget what had happened in the hotel lobby and concentrate on her brothers and sister-in-law. “Well, Olina, I guess it’s nice for you to get to go out without the children.”

  Olina smiled at her. “Oh yes, it is a real treat, for sure. It was good of you and August t
o plan this little celebration.”

  “Actually, it was Anna’s idea.” August picked up his linen napkin and spread it across his lap.

  “Why didn’t she come with us?” Olina asked.

  Gerda laughed. “You mean besides the fact that she’s keeping your children for you?” Olina nodded. “I offered to keep them at the apartment, but Anna thought it would be special for Gustaf’s brother and sister to take the two of you out.”

  August picked up his fork and turned it over and over in his hands, as if he were checking its weight. “She really likes having Olga and Sven at the house.” He put the fork down and cleared his throat. “She’s hoping we’ll have a little one ourselves pretty soon. I told her that it has only been a few months since we married, and I enjoy our time together, but I want children pretty soon, too. Ja, that’s for sure.”

  Gustaf patted his wife’s hand. “Well, we have an announcement to make, and you two will be the first to hear.”

  Olina blushed and looked down at her plate. “We are going to have another baby this fall.”

  Gerda got up and went around the table to hug Olina. “I am so happy for you.” When she passed Gustaf on the way back to her chair, she hugged him, too. “And I’m happy for you, big brother.”

  The waitress came to their table. “What are we all having tonight?”

  “I think this calls for steaks.” August looked at each of them in turn. “Unless you want something else. We have a lot to celebrate.”

  When the waitress left, conversation flowed around the table, but Gerda’s attention was divided. That cowboy was sitting across the room. She could see him when she turned to talk to August. The man seemed to be enjoying his food, but every once in a while, she could feel his gaze on her. Why was he doing that? It made her very uncomfortable. Though she was glad to have this time with her relatives, she couldn’t forget the man or the impression he had made on her when they were in the lobby.

  It didn’t make any sense. She felt drawn to him, even here in the dining room. She was aware when his coffee arrived. While he ate his roast beef and hot rolls, she looked at him from time to time. He had perfect table manners, not like some of the cowboys she had seen. She didn’t want him to catch her watching him, so she peeked at him out of the corners of her eyes to make sure it wasn’t when he was looking at her.