Gerda's Lawman Page 5

  Frank leaned his forearms on his thighs. “I had pretty much decided there had to be two girls. That was the only way he could get away with all he did.”

  The sheriff chuckled. “The man was clever. I’ll give him that. He kept one girl in a camp quite a ways from town in an area where not many people ventured. He planned to rob the town while most everyone was at the circus. It was the first time the circus had ever come here, so it was a good plan.”

  Frank’s interest was piqued. “Then what went wrong with his plan?”

  “This is where it gets complicated.” The sheriff laughed. “Both of the Jenson brothers had a hankering for Rissa Le Blanc. It caused a lot of friction between them.”

  “I can understand that. They’re good-looking women.” Frank sat back in the chair and propped one foot on the other knee.

  “Lowell is the quieter brother. He decided to go camping to think about things and he stumbled across their camp. Le Blanc had left both girls there, which they later said was unusual. Lowell went back to the farm to get his brother. When they returned, they learned about Le Blanc’s scheme and convinced the girls to help us catch Pierre in the act.”

  “That could have been dangerous, couldn’t it?”

  “Yes, but the girls felt as if they were their stepfather’s prisoners. It was a way for them to finally be free of him.” The sheriff stood up. “So that’s why you are eight months too late. That’s when we had the trial that put Le Blanc in prison for life.”

  Frank stood up, too. “What can you tell me about the Nilssons?”

  “That’s another interesting family. Good folks. They came from Sweden, originally.” The sheriff sat on the front corner of his desk. “There are three brothers and one sister. Gustaf works the farm with his dad, August is the blacksmith in town, and Lars moved to Denver. Gerda is part owner of the Dress Emporium. She lives in an apartment above the store.”

  The door burst open, and Hank, the owner of the livery stable, came in. “Sheriff, I need to talk to you.” He stopped short when he noticed Frank. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “That’s all right.” Frank picked up his hat from the floor beside where he had been sitting. “I was just going.” He turned toward the sheriff. “I’ll buy you coffee sometime, Sheriff.”

  When Frank arrived at the hotel, everyone in the lobby looked at him as he headed toward the stairs at the back of the room. Just what he needed. Everyone in town would talk about him until something happened to take their minds off what he’d done. He hoped that event would come soon. Of course, Frank could leave town now. The Old Man might give him his badge back. Probably, the Old Man already knew about Le Blanc being in prison and was expecting Frank to come back. But he didn’t want to leave town without trying to get to know Gerda Nilsson. Frank wondered why no man had claimed her for his own. She seemed to be beautiful through and through. How could he have ever thought Gerda was a fallen woman? He was going to have to make that thought up to her somehow.

  Frank paused with his boot resting on the bottom step. He glanced at the desk clerk. Just as Frank suspected, the man was watching him. When Frank looked at him, he quickly averted his gaze to something behind the counter.

  After raking his fingers down his bristly cheek, Frank decided that what he needed most was a bath and shave. “Would you have hot water sent up to my room?”

  The desk clerk glanced up at him. “Yes, sir.”

  Frank continued up the carpeted staircase. It was a good thing the Jenson brothers found the campsite and rescued the sisters from Le Blanc’s clutches. It was a shame that their stepfather had been able to hold them in servitude. The sheriff had assured Frank that even though it had gone on so many years, the young women hadn’t become corrupted. If Frank believed in a God, he would have been sure that God had protected them all that time. But Frank had never been able to believe that a loving God would allow all the bad things he’d seen in his lifetime. He could remember his mother and grandmother praying for him when he was a little boy, but when he left home, he put all that behind him.

  After he had scraped the whiskers from his cheeks, he gathered up his clothes and went down the hall to the bathroom. At least this hotel had all the modern amenities. Some of the places Frank had stayed didn’t. In those places, the proprietor hauled up a large galvanized tub and lots of hot water for a person to take a bath in the bedroom.

  Frank immersed himself in the warm water and began to lather his arms with the lye soap. It would have been nice to have something a little kinder to his skin. Maybe he would go to the mercantile and see what they had for sale. He could buy something better to use. That was a good excuse to go to the store. What reason could he use to go into the Dress Emporium? He had never been to a circus. Maybe he could ask Gerda about it.

  ❧

  Gerda swept through the door of the sheriff’s office, glad that August accompanied her. Out on the street, everyone stared at the two of them while they walked to the Dress Emporium. She was tempted to keep the store closed. She didn’t want anyone coming in asking questions. Wasn’t it enough that they were the spectacle of the day?

  However, Clarissa and Marissa were coming to choose patterns and fabrics for Marissa’s new clothing. Gerda couldn’t turn them away.

  If she could only keep from thinking about that cowboy—that former U.S. Marshal. The gall of the man, thinking she was a criminal! How could she have ever been drawn to him? God surely had a man in mind for her, and he wouldn’t be someone who could think something like that about her. Gerda hoped she would never see the man again. Maybe he would leave town as soon as he knew the whole story. It couldn’t be soon enough for her.

  Six

  When Frank finished bathing and dressing, he went to Braxton’s Mercantile. He was pleasantly surprised to see all the merchandise the store had to offer. He had been in a lot of businesses scattered all across the country. This establishment would compare favorably with many in large cities like Chicago. He hadn’t thought he would find such an assortment of high-quality goods tucked away here in the heart of Minnesota. Frank browsed through the sundries and picked up some scented coal tar soap. He held the paper wrapping to his nose to check the fragrance. It had a nice, masculine aroma, and coal tar soap was easy on the skin. Sitting on the shelf alongside the bath soap was an assortment of shaving bars and brushes. The brush he had been using was wearing out, so he chose one with bristles that didn’t seem too soft or too stiff. Since no one else was nearby, he tested it by swirling it against his cheek. It felt good, so he added it and two bars of shaving soap to the things he was carrying and headed toward the counter at the back of the store.

  At that point, Frank realized that several other people were shopping in the large establishment. He could feel their eyes trained on him. He didn’t want to turn around and see if they were talking about him. The walk toward the man at the counter was uncomfortable. Frank didn’t like to be the center of attention, and he wondered why he hadn’t just stayed in his hotel room until everyone forgot what happened.

  Frank had been talked about before, but he didn’t like it. He held his head a little higher and continued down an aisle between shelves containing an assortment of men’s clothing. Perhaps it was time to replenish his wardrobe. He’d kept his possessions to a minimum while he was on the trail of the gang. How long had it been now? Frank didn’t want to think about the number of years that he had wasted chasing a phantom.

  He would have to make some decision soon about what to do now. He could go and ask the Old Man for his job back, but Frank wasn’t sure that was what he wanted to do. When the talk died down, Litchfield, Minnesota, might be the place for him to settle into a normal life. If it wasn’t too late for that. And gnawing at the back of his mind were the words Gerda had blurted when she was holding the gun on him. She’d felt the same strong sense of connection he had that first time he laid eyes on her in the hotel lobby.

  When he reached the counter, the man behind it s
miled at him. That’s a good sign. Frank decided to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “I’m Frank Daggett.” He set the soaps and brush on the wooden structure. The man with sandy red hair and lots of freckles had blue eyes that sparkled with friendliness.

  “Glad to meet you, Mr. Daggett. I’m Claude Dawson.” He reached for the merchandise Frank had laid on the counter.

  “This is a real nice store you have here, Mr. Dawson.” Frank turned and perused the rest of the refreshingly clean establishment while he leaned on the counter with one arm.

  “Oh, I’m not the proprietor.” The clerk shook his head. “I work for the Braxtons. Please call me Claude.”

  Frank straightened away from the counter and smiled back. “All right, Claude. If someone wanted to settle in Litchfield, what is there to do here?”

  Claude looked him up and down as if assessing his attributes. “Well, I’m just working to make enough money to move to California. I almost have enough saved, so you could take my place here. Or there are a couple of businesses for sale. What have you done before?”

  Frank decided that maybe the sheriff was a closemouthed man if word of what happened hadn’t even reached the clerk in the store. “I’ve been in law enforcement, but I want to settle down. I like the looks of the town.”

  “Claude, did you receive my shipment from Boston?” The feminine voice sounded from across the room, but it was coming closer. “I need it as soon as. . .”

  As the melodious words stopped abruptly, Frank turned and smiled. “Hello, Gerda.”

  ❧

  When had that lawman come into the store? Gerda felt flustered. She probably hadn’t recognized him because he had cleaned up since their infamous encounter earlier that morning. She couldn’t keep from staring into his blue eyes. The clear, icy color had turned warm in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his eyes. Animal magnetism. That’s what that man had. Where had she heard that term? Probably in one of those dime novels she had been reading since Anna had moved out of the apartment. The man’s body was sleek, like a cougar, all sinews and strength.

  Gerda could feel heat make its way up her neck and into her cheeks. She couldn’t just stand here and gawk at the man. Why was he still here? Didn’t the sheriff tell him what had happened?

  “No.” Claude’s voice penetrated the fog in Gerda’s brain. “The freight wagon hasn’t come from the station yet. I’m not even sure if the train has arrived. Maybe it’s behind schedule.”

  I have to get out of here. “Thank you, Claude.” She wheeled and hurried back to her own store. All the way, she could feel the cowboy’s gaze on her back. When she arrived in the workroom, she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath. Why didn’t the man just leave town? There wasn’t anything here for him. She fanned her face with her hand then pressed it to her chest to try to slow her racing heartbeat. If he left right now, it wouldn’t be too soon for her.

  ❧

  Gerda. Frank rolled her name around in his head as he headed to his hotel room with his purchases from the mercantile. Gerda Nilsson. A name that fit her Nordic beauty. If he were to settle here, maybe he could build a relationship with her. Of course, it might not be a good idea. He had experienced so much of the hard side of life, and seen even more, that he wasn’t sure he was fit to establish a relationship with a woman like her. She was the kind of woman he had dreamed about all his life, but now that he had met her, he didn’t feel worthy.

  Frank couldn’t stay cooped up in this hotel room, even if it was a nice, large one. He put on his Stetson and stepped out on the boardwalk. He had only seen this end of town and the street down to the livery. If he explored more, maybe he could work off some of his nervous energy.

  When he walked by the sheriff’s office, the man stepped out the door. After giving Frank an appraising glance, he commented, “You clean up real nice. I would hardly recognize you as the man who came into my office earlier today.”

  Frank liked the man’s wry humor. During their previous discussion, Frank had come to appreciate the older man’s thoroughness in dealing with hard topics. “I couldn’t go around town looking like I’d been on a cattle drive.”

  Sheriff Bartlett stepped back a little and gestured toward the interior of the building. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? I keep a pot on the stove. Of course, it won’t be as good as you get in the hotel, but it’s hot and black.”

  Frank followed him into the dimly lit room. The sheriff took a clean mug from the shelf on the wall near the stove. After pouring the steaming brew, he handed the white cup to Frank. He took a quick taste. It wasn’t bad at all.

  “So what are you going to do now?” the sheriff asked after he set his own cup on the desk. “Go back into the marshal service?” Bartlett sat in the chair behind his desk and crossed his booted ankles on top of the desk. He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back, looking Frank straight in the eyes.

  Frank dropped into a chair that sat near an open jail cell. “I’ve considered it.”

  “You shouldn’t have any problem getting back on. Good men are hard to find, and you are persistent,” the sheriff added with a chuckle.

  Frank glanced out the open door at a wagon that was coming down the street. A man and woman sat on the seat, and several children dangled their legs off the back. “I’ve been thinking about settling down. I was planning on walking around town. From what I’ve seen of it, Litchfield might be a good town to settle in.”

  “Yep,” the sheriff agreed. “Most of the time, it is. We don’t often have events like the Le Blanc incident.” The man dropped his feet back onto the floor with a thud. “How about if I walk along with you? I could give you a personal guided tour.”

  Frank took a big swig of the cooling beverage and looked down into the nearly empty mug. “You got some place where I can rinse this out?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Bartlett rose and reached for his hat. “The deputy will take the cups home, and his wife will wash them with her dishes.” He led the way out the door.

  The sheriff took Frank down the street in the direction he had already been. The lawman introduced him to all of the proprietors along the way.

  Soon they arrived at the barbershop. “I really could use a trim.” Frank reached up, removed his hat, and pushed some curls off his forehead. Why had he forgotten his hat?

  “Let’s go in and chat awhile with Silas.” Frank followed the sheriff as he stepped through the doorway. “I’ve brought you a customer,” he said to the man behind the chair.

  “Just have a seat over there.” The barber pointed with his scissors, then he went back to snipping and talking to the man sitting in front of him.

  By the time Silas was finished cutting Frank’s hair, Frank knew more than he really wanted to know about most of the people in town. What was it about barbers that they liked to talk so much?

  “Would you like to go into the saloon?” Sheriff Bartlett asked when they were back out on the sidewalk. “They serve lunch there, and there aren’t too many people drinking at this time of day.”

  Frank followed him through the swinging doors. It had been quite awhile since he had stepped in a saloon. He had forgotten how they smelled. No matter how much they cleaned up a bar, they couldn’t get the smell of liquor and tobacco smoke out of the wood. Frank used to like to drink, but he hadn’t had time while he was following Le Blanc. He had needed all his wits about him in case he ever found the scoundrel.

  A barmaid dressed in red satin brought a bowl of stew and some corn bread to the two men after they were seated at a round table. She smiled at Frank and leaned over farther than was necessary when she set his food down. Maybe he had been feasting his eyes on pure women long enough that she seemed tawdry and pitiful to him. He turned his attention to his companion, and the woman walked away in a huff. If Frank decided to settle down here, he knew he wouldn’t be frequenting this establish
ment. He started eating quickly, because he wanted the meal over as soon as possible. The sheriff was eating pretty fast, too.

  ❧

  Once Gerda got her heartbeat to settle down, she decided to close the shop. Anna wasn’t coming today, and Gerda had to eat lunch. She went upstairs and pulled out the bread she had made two days before. It didn’t look that inviting, but she had to eat something. While she scrambled some eggs, she grilled two pieces of bread in a buttered skillet. Some days she went to the hotel to keep from having to cook for one. August had taken her to the boardinghouse to eat with him several times, too. But today she didn’t want to be around other people. Too many things had happened to upset her. For a day that had started with so much promise, it really had deteriorated quickly. The bright part of the day had been spending time with Marissa and Clarissa.

  It was wonderful that the sisters were going to have babies. However, that thought brought a sharp pain to Gerda’s heart. The pain was followed by the image of the cowboy talking to Claude in the store downstairs. Every detail of how he looked was vivid in her mind’s eye. He was no longer dressed like a trail bum. He was even more devastatingly handsome dressed in nice clothes, although curls still fell across his broad forehead, almost reaching his eyes. What was there about him that was different from the other men she had known? They all paled in comparison to his good looks. But looks weren’t everything.

  After choking down the last of her eggs and toasted bread, Gerda went into the parlor and picked up her Bible. She clutched it to her chest and dropped her chin against it. “Father God, please help me. Please tell me that You have a man picked out for me. I have been patient, but now my desire for a husband and family has brought temptation into my life. I feel undeniably drawn to an unacceptable man. God, please take away the temptation. Father, it would be a blessing if the man would just leave town today. Help me be strong. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Gerda knew that God heard her, but the prayer seemed to hang in the air around her. She sighed. When she opened her Bible, it fell open to the sixth chapter of Second Corinthians. Soon, verses 14 through 18 jumped out at her.