Sean Donovan Page 5

  “I had too. Is it still legal?”

  “Oh, yes,” the petite man assured him calmly.

  “Will you read it?”

  “I’ll read it, Lucas,” he said as he looked the taller man in the eye, “but you must know that the possibility of a response—”

  “I don’t know anything, Tom, except that you’ve got to read that proclamation,” Duncan cut him off. “I know it’s a shot in the dark, but I’m trusting God in that darkness. I don’t know how and I don’t know who—I just know you’ve got to read that paper.”

  The judge studied the sheriff’s face for a long moment. He had always respected Duncan’s faith in God. “I’ll read it Duncan; for what it’s worth, I’ll read it.”

  It was a sobering experience for Sean to hear the hammers pounding nails to form the gallows where he would meet his death. Sean’s window did not look out onto the building site, but as the sun passed its midpoint in the sky, a shadow was cast across the ground, giving a perfect outline of the tall structure that would see his execution.

  Sean’s hand rose involuntarily to his throat as he lay down on the cot. “I know Your arms are waiting to hold me on the other side, Lord, but the thought of that rope around my neck terrifies me.”

  The words were whispered, and tears stung Sean’s eyes. “Please help me to be strong. I don’t know if I’ve ever given You the glory for anything, but I want to now.”

  And such were Sean’s prayers through the long afternoon. Since he knew his system would hold nothing, he hadn’t eaten a thing since before the trial. He was, in a sense, fasting and praying, and God’s immeasurable peace had settled upon him. Duncan had come and talked to him again that morning and then prayed aloud, thanking God for the opportunity to know Sean. It had almost been the younger man’s undoing.

  Knowing that Duncan would write a kind letter to his family, Sean praised God. He tried to push the faces of his sisters and his nieces from his mind, but it did no good. He adored his nieces, and the thought of never seeing them again brought a torrent of tears.

  Having dozed off before Duncan came to get him, Sean shook his head to clear his mind and held his wrists behind his back for cuffing.

  Sean’s heart, which had been beating at normal speed, began to pound when he saw the crowd around the scaffolding. It had never occurred to him that people would care to witness such a gruesome spectacle, but there was indeed quite a crowd gathered, and it was painful to have to walk through the midst of them to his death.

  The walk up the steps of the scaffold was the longest of Sean’s life. He was momentarily surprised to see the judge waiting for him on the platform, but a second later he stepped onto the trapdoor and felt the rope tighten around his neck and all other thoughts vanished.

  The sun was in Sean’s face, and not wishing to see the faces in the crowd, he welcomed the excuse to close his eyes. The noises around him and the feel of the rope as it scraped the tender skin of his neck were all he could take.

  “It’s been recently brought to my attention that a document needs to be read at this hanging. For some of you it will be new. For others, it’ll jog your memory from many years ago. But either way I assure you, it is legal and I will hear no discussion to the contrary.”

  The judge cleared his throat and began to read. “As official of this legal hanging in the State of California, in the County of Tulare, I hereby proclaim that for the offense of bank robbery, Sean Donovan will be hanged by the neck until dead. Unless, in said case, a woman of good standing in the community, that is, not being a woman of ill repute, a child beater, or an adulteress, will hereby step forward and claim said prisoner to be her lawfully wedded spouse from this day forward.”

  The announcement was met with gasps of shock and outrage from the throng. An ominous silence followed.

  “Now, I should explain a little further, without having to read the whole thing, that this would not apply to the offense of murder. And since I know I’ve taken you all by surprise, I’ll read it one more time.”

  The judge did as he said without looking anywhere but at the paper. If he had he would have seen the condemned man staring at him, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

  Sean would have sworn that nothing but the sight of his Savior would have been able to pry open his eyes, but when the judge began reading the document, his eyes flew open and he swiveled his head as best he could to look at the man next to him.

  The judge finished reading a second later, and Sean was still so busy staring at him that he didn’t hear a woman calling from the crowd. Murmurs of “Charlie” came to his ears, but the name didn’t really register.

  Sean watched Duncan’s face in disbelief as the sheriff loosened the knot and lifted the rope from his neck. Spots danced before his eyes.

  “Don’t pass out now, Sean. Charlie has just agreed to marry you.”

  Sean’s eyes went from the grinning sheriff to the judge, who was staring down the steps of the scaffold to a woman standing below. Sean followed his gaze and saw black spots again. With Duncan’s hand gripping his arm, he was brought back to his senses just as the judge addressed him.

  “Well, son, it seems there’s been a change in the plans. Can you stay on your feet long enough to be married?”

  eleven

  Duncan stared down at the redheaded woman in front of him and tried not to smile. Charlotte Cooper, “Charlie” to the entire town, was the hardest working woman in the area. Deceptively attractive under her dusty clothes, Charlie did a good job of hiding her beauty beneath the hat she wore, the brim of which was always stubbornly pulled down to her brows.

  Charlie and Duncan were alone in the judge’s chambers where she had just become Mrs. Patrick Sean Donovan III. She didn’t appear overjoyed, and Duncan was thankful that they had tied the knot before she could change her mind. He didn’t by any means believe this was a match made in heaven, but he did believe that if God had brought Sean this far, He would see him the rest of the way.

  “I think he’ll be just fine, Charlie,” Duncan told her after Sean went to her wagon with his deputy.

  “He’d better be, Duncan,” she told him seriously, wondering again at the impulse that now had her married. “Because if he makes one move out of line, I’ll bring him back here and you can just go right ahead and hang him higher than Haman.”

  Duncan did smile then, not believing for a second that she was as indifferent as she sounded. His smile only caused Charlie to frown.

  “What are you grinning about?” she growled at him.

  Duncan didn’t answer, and Charlie shook her head and exited the courthouse.

  Sean was waiting patiently where he had been directed. He watched his wife approach and felt a state of shock settle over him. His wife. He was married! And to an absolute stranger!

  Charlie stopped in front of him and looked out under the battered hat. Her eyes were serious, and Sean wondered what she was thinking.

  “I hope you’re not afraid of hard work,” she muttered as she hitched her skirt enough to climb into the wagon unassisted. “You can sit in the back.”

  Sean did as he was told, careful not to sit on the supplies neatly stacked in the rear of the wagon. Duncan stepped to the sideboard and spoke softly.

  “I wanted to warn you about the paper I’d found, Sean, but I was afraid of getting your hopes up. Charlie will do right by you. Just follow the rules and you’ll be fine.” They shook hands, and Duncan told the still-speechless Sean that the door to his office was always open.

  A moment later the wagon was moving down the street. Sean sat still as they went into the next block. No more than 30 seconds had passed before the wagon pulled straight into the livery. The sign above the door read “COOPER’S LIVERY” in large, faded letters.

  The horse and wagon stopped inside the sturdy-looking building. Sean jumped out of the back as soon as the wagon halted and without forethought, moved to help his wife. Charlie stared at the hand extended to her and then at the owner
. Sean’s hand dropped, and he stepped back and watched as she jumped to the ground.

  Her manner was plainly suspicious, and Sean told himself he was going to have to watch his step. Feeling rather helpless, he stood back as Charlie stabled her horse and began to rub him down.

  “You don’t need to unload that wagon until tomorrow, so just push it into the big stall on the end.” It was a command and Sean was swift to do her bidding. He stood just outside the stall once the wagon was in place, waiting for his next orders. The livery in which he stood was clean, spacious, and well supplied. There were horses in five other stalls, and from where he stood, Sean thought he could see another wagon and two buggies.

  When Charlie finished with the horse, she walked to the front of the livery and pulled the double doors shut. There were double doors at the back also, but they were already closed and Sean watched as she headed toward another small door. She hesitated on the threshold.

  “I don’t suppose you know an anvil from a saddle, but my blacksmith just walked out on me. I’m finished here for the night, and my supper will be coming. You can start work in the morning.” Sean stood still as he listened to his wife, unsure if he should tell her he was an experienced blacksmith. While he was still debating whether or not to speak, Charlie left without another word.

  She walked with swift purpose to the door of her house, not turning to look behind her until her hand was reaching for the handle.

  “Now where in the world is he?” Charlie muttered to herself when she saw that Sean had not followed her. She stood still and gave a small sigh, wondering once again why she had married him. Charlie told herself quickly it was because of his size. A man that big would be worth hours of work in a livery, as soon as she taught him how to smith.

  She waited a second longer, hoping he would appear in the livery doorway, but it was not to be. Suddenly she felt very suspicious. With a mixture of fear and anger, Charlie moved back toward the livery.

  Sean glanced around at his new home and wondered in which stall he should bed down. It was early yet, but if he slept he might not notice how empty his stomach was. He stood for a moment, his hand on the tender area of his throat. His eyes slid shut as he once again felt the rope.

  “Thank you, Lord,” Sean whispered, still staggered by the fact that he was alive. He felt down his own arms and then to his legs before the vision of himself hanging from a rope sprang into his mind. His palms became damp, and he shook his head to dispel the image before beginning to walk along the stalls, desperate for something to distract his mind.

  The tack wall caught and held his interest. He was immediately impressed with the quality of halters, bridles, and saddles. He stood looking them over when his wife’s suspicious voice made him snatch his cap off and turn to face her.

  “Is there some problem?”

  “No ma’am.” Sean noticed she was frowning as she had been when she exited the courthouse.

  “Then why didn’t you follow me?”

  “I assumed you wanted me to bunk out here.”

  Something in his voice, as well as the way he held his cap in both hands, tempered Charlie’s voice as she replied.

  “Your room is in the house.” She watched him replace his cap and move carefully toward her. Her anger evaporated, and she suddenly felt a little sorry for him. After all, he was to have been executed today. But by the time Sean was close enough to see her face, she’d carefully hidden this emotion.

  “Come on,” she said and once again headed outside. Sean followed her this time and saw that she was leading him to a small house some 50 feet behind the livery.

  Stepping through the front doorway Sean found himself in the kitchen, but he wasn’t given any time to inspect his new home. “This way’s your room.”

  Charlie led him down a short hallway where Sean saw two doors. One door was straight in front of him and one was on the left side of the hall. Charlie opened the door on the left.

  “You can have this room. Oh! The bed isn’t made. I’ll get some sheets.” Charlie darted out of the room, and Sean was left alone.

  The room was not overly large, but it was more than sufficient. The bed was small, but it definitely outsized the cot in his jail cell, and for that he was thankful. Sean moved to the window. He pulled the curtains back and one of them tore. He knew a moment of panic and then noticed that they were very faded, almost transparent.

  “These are clean.”

  “The curtain tore. I’m sorry.” Sean’s voice was humble.

  Charlie’s eyes darted to the window. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was usually so rough with things, but then she remembered how old the curtains were. They had been hanging there since her grandfather was alive.

  “It doesn’t matter. Here.” She threw the sheets onto the bed. “Supper’s in half an hour.” On those words she exited, closing the door behind her.

  twelve

  Sean continued to stand next to the window, the events of the day going once again through his mind until a hunger pain tore at his stomach. The pain was impetus enough to cause him to move. Not wanting to dwell on the hours he had just lived through, he decided to make the bed.

  He found himself mentally thanking his brother-in-law, Rigg, for the months he had lived with him. Rigg had taught him to take care of himself. Prior to that, his mother, and then his aunt, had seen to everything.

  No water had been offered to Sean in jail beyond that which he’d been given to drink. So when the bed was finally made, and he noticed a pitcher and bowl on the dresser, he decided to find some water and have a quick wash. It couldn’t really compare with a bath, but it would have to suffice and would certainly make him more presentable at supper.

  Sean’s door squeaked as it opened. Carrying the pitcher, he stepped tentatively into the hallway and walked softly out to the main room of the house where he stood looking around. There was no sign of his wife.

  He noticed for the first time a large stove in the corner with wood stacked nearby. The kitchen table, appearing to be about four feet square, was made of oak and had four matching chairs.

  Sean discovered that a doorway off the kitchen led to the living room. It had a long sofa and one overstuffed chair. There was a small table stacked with a few old newspapers, and all the furniture sat on an old, braided rug.

  After a superficial inspection of both rooms, Sean looked more closely in the kitchen for a container of water. He had circled the room twice and figured he’d have to ask his wife or go without.

  He turned to head down the hall and nearly dropped the pitcher he was carrying when he found Charlie standing just inside the room watching him.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I was looking for some water.” Sean gestured with the pitcher before noticing the shotgun in her hand and changing his mind about needing water. “I was going to have a quick wash, but it can wait.”

  His voice dropped on these last words; his whole body tensed. He wanted to move past her, but she was blocking his path and he wasn’t about to do anything to make her use that gun. He stood still and waited.

  “There’s a well outside at the back of the house. I’ll show you.”

  Sean watched in some surprise as she leaned her gun against a wall and preceded him to the door. Sean noticed as they walked that she was finally without her hat, and had even removed the oversized jacket she’d been wearing. There wasn’t much to her; in fact, her frame was rather slight. She had the brightest red hair he’d ever seen.

  There was no conversation as Sean filled his pitcher. Not until they were ready to go back to the house did Sean notice a bucket sitting beside the well.

  “Charlotte,” Sean used her name for the first time. “Do you want me to fill this for the house?”

  Charlie’s head had whipped around at the sound of her name, but there was no teasing in Sean’s eyes. No one called her Charlotte, except in wisecracking, and Charlie just assumed that he was getting smart with her. She couldn’t hav
e been more wrong. His eyes were as respectful and hesitant as they had been since the two of them had stood in the courthouse and become man and wife.

  “Yeah, we’ll need it in the morning.”

  Sean proceeded to fill the bucket. Charlie stayed to watch him, although she wasn’t sure why. For a moment in the kitchen she had thought he was out there to make a run for it, but that thought was swiftly put to rest when she had looked into his eyes.

  Charlie was finally admitting to herself that his size had little to do with why she had married him. It had been his eyes. How many times were they going to get her into trouble? She had spoken up at the hanging because of those eyes and the way he’d kept them closed. Then in the kitchen, when she confronted him with the gun, it was the fear she saw in them that caused her to put the weapon down and escort him to the well.

  Charlie had been amazed to see that he was afraid of her. She found she didn’t care for that at all. She didn’t plan to get close to this man in any way. They might be married, but in her mind he was nothing more than hired help. Yet to see a man of his size and obvious strength showing fear tugged at her heart.

  Sean set down the bucket in the kitchen and took the pitcher to his room. While they had been at the well, a young girl named Ruth had delivered a plateful of food from the hotel to Charlie’s kitchen table. By the time Sean returned to eat, Charlie had carefully divided the food. He sat down in the chair across from her.

  Sean, believing he could consume five times the amount on his plate, found himself suddenly queasy. He ate slowly of the beef stew before him, and when Charlie tried to pass him half of her biscuit, he declined. Though he found himself hoping there would be more food in the future, for now he was thankful that he had no more to tackle.

  The meal was eaten in silence. By the time Charlie rose, Sean was also finished, and he watched as she put their plates in a large pan. She turned and spoke her last words of the evening.