#95
The jail was in an uproar. Deputy Kevin had his gun lying on the desk when Will got back from the hospital. Doc had come out long enough to tell Ev both mother and child were still alive. Ev sat down like he had been deflated. Will left him in good hands, Nurse Donna looked entirely capable of handling the dithering man.
Back on duty, Kevin had been suitably impressed with the quality and quantity of the prisoners Will had in the back. They were a bunch with surly attitudes and equally bad manners. Right now they were causing a ruckus over the institutional sandwiches served for lunch. Especially the big guy. He was hollering and yelling about being starved with cardboard. Kevin smirked, checked to make sure the center door was locked and watched the front door nervously. Visibly relieved when Will came through the door, he got up in a hurry so the Sheriff could have his own chair.
"I could hear them clear down the street," Will complained as he eased into his old oak swivel chair. "Any news from the state?" he asked. Will had sent word with the grader driver to have the state up here pronto. He had need of bigger guns than he had available.
"No," Kevin fingered the revolver he had slid in his holster. "Sheriff, who are those yahoo's?"
"My best guess, big city hired guns, why?" the Sheriff answered as he tapped a pencil on the blotter in front of him.
"Seems like a lot of loose ends around here, and I don't like the feeling left behind by them," Kevin said in a plain way." My hands have been itching ever since that Pete fellow got here in town. He came in with a hail of bullets, and left under the blackest cloud of suspicion. Since then, look at all the purely bad things that have been happening."
"Good deductions and reasonings Kevin," Will sighed with grudging admiration. Kevin was gaining experience and good instincts. He was a good man to have by his side.
A ground shaking rumble started vibrating the floor. The solid scraping noise growing louder and louder until the maintainer throttled back and stopped just past the Sheriff's office. Only seconds stopped and the cab already covered in snow, Will noted. Behind the grader, a parade of State Police vehicles.
Will stood as the men entered.
"Sheriff," the Captain acknowledged, stomping his feet . Snow clumped on the floor, making a slick, wet spot. "I understand you have some prisoners for us."
"Glad to have you here, I'm anxious for these people to be in your custody," Will went to unlock the door. "I've got to warn you, there are some surprises in there. Some that may make you a little spooked."
The captain arched an eyebrow, "do tell," he questioned.
"Another Sue Apperton," Will stated flatly. Beings that the Captain had been the one to haul the second Apperton woman out of the brush, he was glad the state man was here for the third.
Both eyebrows went as high as possible and Jennings McCann opened the inner door and walked down to the women's cell. Through the security window Cpt. McCann watched as Sue Apperton spit in his direction.
"Friendly as all the rest of them," he remarked as he flipped his hand cuffs on the desk, when he walked out into the office.
"I want three men to a prisoner as we transfer. Bring them out here one at a time and I want leg iron on them. Waist chains also. One prisoner to a vehicle. Any questions." he asked. There were none. The transfer went smoothly and they were out of sight following Caleb in the grader.
Jennings thought of the activity that had been happening in Evergreen. He had a fondness for Will, the man didn't try to run his county as a dictator and he asked for help when it was necessary. Some might think that a sign of weakness, but Jennings thought him a very astute lawman. If he ever went into politics, he'd look Will up as a person he wanted on his team.
Will was amazed at the relief he felt as the last vehicle disappeared into the snow curtain. He was pretty sure he had seen a wanted sheet on the big guy. A top level Mafia enforcer by the name of Big Ben. The fact that a hired gun of his caliber was here in Evergreen must have to do with Claude.
That damn Claude and damn Pete. Two unsavory people with evil ways. Will knew as soon as he ways walking home, that it wasn't over yet.
Cassy was cooking something that smelled mighty good. Oh yes it did. But, as he stooped to kiss her, boy howdy did she smell better than any supper. Taking an appreciative sniff, he stood behind her chair and closed his arms around her.
"Cassy,"
"Hummm," she purred, rubbing her cheek along Will's thickened, callused hand.
"Are you sure you want to marry me? I'm not an inside, fancy critter by any stretch of the imagination."
"Yes," was all she said. "Sunday."
Will smiled into her hair, their marriage license in his pocket. Hand delivered by Jennings with a knowing grin.
The good ladies of the cafe had a dilemma. The more they needed Brett to do things for them, the more the rascal ate. He was like fueling a tank. Unless carefully aimed, he tended to break, trample and simply trip over everything in his path. Patti had given up talking to him and Leta watched him like a hawk, acting like a GPS system for the jangly teen. Inga worked behind the grill, cooking food as the community needed it. Measuring carefully, she increased her portions by almost half and was rewarded with much appreciation from the hard working people she served.
John worked between his church and the cafe. Both needed about the same amount of attention. Hard work never hurt anyone, he kept telling himself as he ached and creaked as he swept, washed and painted. The humble country church started to shine in corners that hadn't been clean in years.
By one and twos, the people of Evergreen stopped in to greet and meet the new pastor, most of the time finding him on his knees scrubbing the floor. With every ready tea or coffee, he listened attentively to the realness of the hurt and misery the people were experiencing. John kept a list, with names and problems and the first time he was able, he spoke in confidence with Will.
Will still had the full control of the roadhouse money. What he hadn't already spent on the town, that was. He took John's list and sat with a paper and calculator. Figuring out a plan, Will now had a moral dilemma. He needed to use the money for the people, did he have the right to make people beholden to him or the town. Was free the proper way to do this business.
Will was John's last visitor. Anticipating a long session, Will brought two dinners from the cafe with him. The two men talked long into the night.
Ev sat beside Cheryl as she lay so quiet and still. Machines whirred, beeped and every half hour the blood pressure cuff automatically inflated. The bruise on Cheryl's forehead crept downward on either side of her nose, turning her eyes black and making her look like a raccoon. Ev stared at her flat stomach. Cheryl was the toughest, hardest working, no nonsense woman he had ever met.
Doc Phillips had torn a strip of hide off him, for letting Cheryl feed the cows by herself. He stood there and took the tongue lashing cause he didn't know how to reply. He didn't 'let' Cheryl do anything. Cheryl was her own woman, fully competent and totally in control of her life.
'Let her,' Ev shook his head in sadness. If his wife even suspicioned that another human was in a position to 'let her', there would be Tornado Cheryl tear through the place like a F5. It had been a long time since Everett Wilson just looked at his wife. There were wrinkles he hadn't noticed before, some grey hair at her temple and dark circles under her eyes that had nothing to do with the blow on her head. Strong and lithe, she was his perfect foil. They rest of him that he hadn't know he needed so desperately.
Helpless, he held her hand and spoke low. Urging Cheryl to gain consciousness, to come back to him, to help him get ready to be a father, cause he didn't know what to do.
For hours, Ev talked and somewhere deep in her consciousness, Cheryl heard.