Trail of Golden Dreams (2 page)

“What the…?”  The front legs of the chair clattered against the
floor, rousing him from his nap. When he raised his hat with the tip of his
finger, a smile spread across his tanned face.  “Josie Hart.  If you
ain’t a sight for sore eyes.”

“Del,” she said with a curt nod.  “I understand you’re holding my
father.”  She glared at the man, not wasting time with pleasantries.

Del Emmerson rose to his feet and stretched his hand out to shake. “It’s
good to see you, Josie.  You’re looking mighty pretty today.”  He let
his eyes rake over her body.

She kept her arms firmly planted at her sides.  Swinging her head
toward the door that divided the office from the cells, she repeated, “I’ve
been told Leroy’s here.  I want to see him.”

The deputy removed his hat and scratched his head.  “Ah,
Josie.  Why put yourself through that?  He’s never done nothin’ but
cause you misery.  Do yourself a favor and ride back home.  Try to forget
Leroy was your pa.  He’s just a no-good horse thief, plus a few other
things I won’t mention, out of respect for you.”

It didn’t take much to get her ire up.  That was another trait she’d
inherited from her father.  Josie lunged across the desk and twisted the
deputy’s shirt collar into her fist.  Her face was a mere inch away from
his—so close, in fact, that she could smell on his breath the onions and
jalapenos he’d had for lunch.  In a low, even voice, she said, “Get the
keys and open that damn door so I can see my pa.”

Del grinned, exposing a tobacco-stained row of teeth.  “I’ve wanted
to kiss that smart little mouth of yours since I was twelve years old. 
Looks like I finally get the chance.” He grabbed the back of her head with a
quick, strong hand and forced his dry lips on hers. 

Grunting, she squirmed and pinched his nipple through his thin shirt,
giving it a hard twist.  When he yelped, she broke free, raised her hand
and slapped him across the face, leaving a bright pink welt on his unshaven cheek. 
Del’s eyes flashed black at first.  Then he threw back his head and
laughed.  “You squaws are full of piss and vinegar!”

Josie roughly rubbed his kiss off her lips with the back of her hand.
Behind clenched teeth she asked, “Are you gonna let me see him?  Or are
you gonna stand there all day acting like the fool that you are?”

Glowering, he pointed his finger in her face and darkly answered, “I
ain’t no fool.  And don’t you forget it.”  Slowly, he lifted the ring
of keys from a nail behind the desk and moseyed over to the dividing
door.  When he unlocked it, she scurried past him with her skirts
swishing. 

“Josephine!” Leroy rushed to the front of the cell and wrapped his
fingers around the iron bars.  Another man in the adjoining cell lay on a
cot with his hands clasped behind his neck.  She assumed this was the
Williams man Ben had mentioned.

“I’ll just leave this door open,” Del told her.  His lip curled into
a smirk.  “I hope you’re not planning on trying anything funny,
Josie.  Such as breaking your pa out of here.  You’ll end up in a
cell next to him if you do.”

Her eyes narrowed. “The last thing I’m interested in is spending any time
near you, Del.  Give us some privacy. Go back to your slumber.”  She
shooed the lanky cowboy away as if he were a pesky fly, and then turned and
stood in front of her father. The tips of her fingers skimmed his, and she
graced him with a weak smile.

Before they’d even spoken two words, the jailhouse door squeaked open and
her head swiveled. Her stomach sank when Marshal Wade Kendall stepped across
the threshold.  The man was not tall, but he was built like a brick wall
and exuded the stone-hard confidence of a person who held absolute power over
the lives of others, which of course was the case in Dry Gulch. His eyes were
beady like a rat’s, and dark as dirt.  A scar cut across his right eyebrow
and snaked down his cheek, disappearing somewhere behind his ear.  Rumor
had it he’d been a gunfighter in his younger days. 

The marshal looked past his deputy and stared at her from under the brim
of his hat. “What’s she doing here?” he grumbled.

Del stated the obvious. “Come to see her pa before we string him up, I
reckon.”

Kendall puffed his chest out, opened his black jacket and tapped the .45
holstered at his side with his gloved finger. 

He and Josie’s eyes locked, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. 

Chapter Two

Despite the man’s intimidating presence, Josie wasn’t about to show any
fear.  She glared back, unwavering.  When the marshal stepped forward
and pulled the wooden door shut, just a bit, she let out the breath she’d been
holding and turned back to her father. 

Leroy peered at her sadly.  “I’m glad you came, honey,” he
whispered.  “I couldn’t bear to die alone.  I need you here when I
go.”

She grabbed hold of the bars.  “Pa, tell me the truth.  Did you
steal a horse like they say?  Is that the real reason they’re hanging
you?”

He nodded. “You know how it is, Josephine.  Folks don’t take kindly to
horse thieves.”

She sighed deeply.  “Did they even give you a trial?”

He chuckled softly.  “Horse thieves don’t get trials, little
girl.  My luck ran out, that’s all.  It’s as simple as that. 
There’s no use fretting over what’s to be.”  He threaded his fingers
between hers. 

It had been so long since she’d felt her father’s touch.   She
squeezed his hand hard and felt her emotions bubbling to the surface.

“Josephine, there’s not much time, so I want to tell you how sorry I am
for all the years of not being a better pa to you.  I have many regrets.”

Surprised by his heartfelt words, she barely moved a muscle while
listening. 

“I didn’t raise you properly.  I never took care of you the way a
good pa should.”

“You did the best you knew how,” she replied, bowing her head.

“No.   I didn’t.  But I’m going to make it up to
you.  I’m finally going to do right by you.”  His voice choked with
genuine emotion.  “Did the Johnson boy give you something from me? 
An envelope?” he whispered.

She looked over her shoulder and noticed the sheriff stared intently at
her and Pa.  It was obvious he was eavesdropping.  He was probably
wondering what scheme they were cooking up together—as if she were stupid
enough to do something that would have her swinging next to Pa.

Josie lowered her voice. “Yes.  Ben gave me an envelope. I hurried
to get here, so I haven’t read the letter inside yet.”

 “It’s not a letter,” Leroy said.

Curiosity seeped into every bone in her body.  “What is it then?”

“Have you got the envelope with you now?” A muscle along his jaw line
twitched.

“Yes. It’s here in my saddlebags.” She patted the leather pouch hanging
over her shoulder.

“Good.  Keep it close to you.  Open it after I’m gone. 
What’s in there is going to give you the freedom to change your life. You’ll be
able to get off that God-forsaken farm and live like a real lady.  It’s my
way of making up for all the times I haven’t been around for you.” 

“Oh, Pa,” she began, feeling the breath catch in her throat.

He grew animated, though he continued to keep his voice low.  “I
finally did it, honey.  You won’t ever have to work hard again.  You
can start your life over.  Go anywhere you want.  Do anything you
please.  Maybe you can travel to San Francisco.  You’ve always wanted
to see the ocean.”

“Pa, I don’t understand. You’re not making sense.  What are you
talking about?”

“You’ll understand when you open that envelope. Until then, protect it
with your
life
.”  He patted her hand through the bars. 
“You’ve become a lovely young woman, Josephine.  I swear, you look so much
like your mama, God rest her soul.”  A single tear squeezed out from the
corner of his eye. 

Josie flinched.  She’d never seen her father cry, and her ma had
been a painful subject between them.  There had been no mention of her in
years.  Why was he bringing her up now?  Her chest grew tight, and
her lungs began to burn.

Whispering again, he ended by saying, “The trail will be a long one, but
don’t give up, no matter what happens.  Promise me you won’t give up,
Josephine.”

Her shoulders shrugged. “What trail?  I don’t understand…” 

“Promise!” he barked.  His blue eyes grew large while awaiting her
promise.

“Alright.  I promise.”  Confused, she backed away from the
bars.

 The hard features of her pa’s face relaxed then, as if a peaceful
feeling had settled upon him.  “Good luck to you, child,” he said quietly,
sinking into the shadows of his cell.

The marshal strutted into the cellblock, glaring at Josie and issuing a
threat.  “I heard you two whispering.  Best not be planning to break
him out of jail or you’ll stand on the gallows, too.”  When she didn’t
reply, he gruffly announced, “Visiting hours are over.  It’s time for a
hanging.” His pulse throbbed in his neck.

“No,” she moaned as he took a step toward her and grabbed her arm. She
wriggled out of his hold and shouted, “Pa! Pa!”

Kendall called out to his deputy.  “Emmerson!  Get this woman
out of here.  Now!”

Del strode over and put his hand around Josie’s waist and pulled her into
the office.  As she passed by the marshal, she noticed his eyes were fixed
on the saddlebags hanging over her shoulder.  She squeezed them tighter to
her body.  Del unlatched the front door and was about to escort her out of
the jailhouse when the preacher swooped through like a giant bird.

“Afternoon, preacher,” Del said, lifting his hat briefly off his head.

“Hello, son.” 

Josie jumped at the sound of his voice, which boomed like thunder. 
He waltzed past her and Del and whirled, his long black duster flapping against
his leg. She raked a gaze over him, noting his appearance with a critical
eye.  He didn’t look like a preacher man to her.  He didn’t wear a
minister’s frock or a white collar around the neck. Dressed like every other
cowboy in town, he sported pants that looked like they needed a good washing, a
dirty wide-brimmed hat, and mud-caked boots.  She guessed him to be fairly
old, in his forties at least.  His gray beard was trimmed neatly, but
she’d never seen such long hair on a man of the cloth. The white mass hung well
below his shoulders.

 “I’ve come to speak to the prisoners,” he said.  “Give them a
final chance to unload their sins.  Guilt is a terrible burden to carry
into the afterlife.”  The man’s milky eyes scanned her up and down slowly,
which gave her the shivers.  “Afternoon, miss.  Would you happen to
be Josephine Hart?”

Although shocked that he knew her by name, she didn’t let on.  “I
would,” she answered. She’d seen the preacher from a distance on the street a
few times when she came to town, but never had the opportunity to talk to him
or attend his services.  He was fairly new to Dry Gulch, having taken over
when the former minister succumbed to pneumonia the previous winter. 
There was something not right about this man.  Preacher Smith never looked
at her the way this man was now.

He grabbed her hand and pumped it up and down.  “I understand your
pa is one of the prisoners to be hung.”

“Yes, sir.”  Her voice came out small, which annoyed her, but it
couldn’t be helped.  For the first time in a long time, Josie felt
unnerved.

“I’m here to give him the opportunity to confess his wrongdoings,” the
preacher said.  “Perhaps then our Almighty Lord will forgive his sins and
let him walk through the pearly gates of Heaven.”

“Yes, sir,” she repeated, still startled by how loud his voice was.

The preacher spun on his boot heel and marched into the cellblock with
his long coat tails flying behind him.

As she was pushed by Del through the front door onto the walk, Josie
heard her father call out to her.  “Daughter, I love you!”

She strode to Traveler and rested her forehead against his thick,
comforting neck.  It was with a heavy heart when she whispered back, “I
love you, too, Pa.”

* * * *

Josie stood quietly off to the side as Leroy and Johnny Williams
dangled.  It was some time before someone cut them down.  The
preacher stood beside the bodies with a Bible in his hand, praying for their
souls the whole time. 

As the crowd began to disperse, Josie’s feet betrayed her.  They
were stuck to the ground as surely as if they’d been nailed down.  From
the middle of the muddy street, she watched as her pa and the other man were
finally carried from the gallows and stretched out in wooden boxes that lay on
the sidewalk.  Townsfolk strolled by and gawked at the dead as if they
were exotic animals.  She wanted to shoo them away.  “Have some
respect,” she shouted once.  But no one paid her any mind.

Finally, she forced herself to move so she could speak to the undertaker
about transporting her pa to the cemetery and giving him a proper burial. As
she treaded past the gallows, she detected a slight movement out of the corner
of her eye.  Raising a hand to block the burning sun from her eyes, her
gaze lifted to Cemetery Hill, and she spied an unusual sight—a big snow-white
stallion and a man all in black sitting in the saddle.  The man’s back was
ramrod straight, and his gloved hand was locked on the saddle horn.  The
pair stood perfectly still, as if they were frozen. 

When the mysterious rider’s head swung her direction, she gasped. She
swore he saw straight through her. Though he was some distance off, she could
feel the steely penetration of his dark eyes like an arrow in her head. While
returning the gaze, a hot flame seared her veins that moved down her arms and
shot out of the tips of her fingers. The breath caught in her throat. She
sensed danger in the rider.  Danger and something else.  Something
unexplainable.

She turned and picked up her skirts and tramped through the mud to the
boardwalk.  Alarmed by the sensations rocketing through her body, her
heart thumped deep inside her chest.  From up on the hill came the
piercing cry of the horse.  Josie’s jaw tightened as her neck slowly
revolved again.  The stallion reared.  It snorted, and its hooves
pawed the air as the expert horseman hung suspended, perpendicular to the
horse’s back. The sight of the magnificent animal and dark stranger sent her
senses reeling. Perspiration broke out on her forehead, and she felt it
difficult to breathe. Splaying her fingers over her heart, she could feel it
racing.