Frances wrapped a towel around her hand and slid the large, heavy iron skillet to one side of the stove. Sarah, embarrassed, jumped to turn the pieces so that they would brown evenly.
Knowing that Sarah would keep after her until she answered her questions, Frances said, “He told us just before he left the train. He was going to take Eddie hostage. I stopped him.”
“My land!” Sarah exclaimed. “Weren’t you afraid?”
“Yes, I was.”
“And aren’t you afraid now that he might come back?”
Frances thought a moment. Seth was intelligent, and there had been much he’d learned as a soldier—when to hide and when to pick the right time to make his move. He wouldn’t return to Harwood for her. It would be too dangerous for him. If he came for her, it probably would be after she’d arrived back home … alone. Yes, she decided. That would be the time and the place. Frances knew this just as certainly as if she had received a mental message from Seth. Cold chills ran up her backbone, and she shivered.
“There, there, I knew you were afraid,” Sarah said with satisfaction, “but you don’t have to worry. Where else could you be safer than in the sheriff’s own home?”
Soon the Malloys’ two daughters were called inside to supper. The older, about fourteen, Frances guessed, had washed at the pump by the back door, but it was obvious that the younger, who must have been no more than seven, had settled for some hasty splashes at her face, leaving streaks of dirt.
“We’ve got company,” Sarah said. She moistened one end of a towel and scrubbed hard at her squirming daughter’s face.
As she helped carry platters of food to the sturdy table that filled one corner of the living room, Frances saw with surprise that she and Eddie weren’t the only guests for supper.
A brawny man with a gray beard slowly unwound his long legs and raised himself from a low upholstered chair to greet her.
“I’d like you to meet Sheriff Duncan, from over in Clay County, Miss Kelly,” Sheriff Malloy said. “I’ve been fillin’ him in on Seth Connally, in case he shows up in western Missouri.”
Sheriff Duncan’s voice rumbled deep within his throat. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Kelly. We’ll do our best to catch Connally. Don’t you worry none.”
“Thank you,” Frances murmured. She fumbled with the chair where Sarah directed her to sit, hoping that she wouldn’t be asked about Seth. What could she tell them? That he was a bitter, unforgiving man bent on revenge? No. There was more than that. There was still goodness within Seth. He had proved it when he had done as she’d asked and hadn’t taken Eddie.
Sheriff Malloy sniffed appreciatively at the steaming platter of fried chicken, bowed his head, and said a very quick grace.
Plates were passed to be filled, and Frances was gratified to see that Eddie began eating without hesitation. He appeared to be bouncing back from the hurt of not being chosen at this first stop. He’d be in good spirits tomorrow, she was sure.
During dinner the two men dominated the conversation. Between mouthfuls, Sheriff Duncan began talking about the robbery of the Clay County Savings Association back in February.
“It was one of the first bank robberies for Frank and Jesse James and their gang,” Sheriff Malloy added.
“Now, wait. There’s some doubt the James gang were the ones who done it,” Sheriff Duncan told him. “We’ve got witnesses that swore Frank was in Kentucky at the time and Jesse was home sick in bed.”
“Nobody on the scene recognized the James brothers?”
“Oh, sure. We got witnesses who’ll swear the boys were there. We just have to figger who’s tellin’ the truth and who isn’t.”
Eddie, obviously fascinated by what the men were saying, looked back and forth from one to the other. Frances sighed. This was not the kind of conversation an impressionable young boy should be hearing.
Sheriff Malloy chuckled. “Maybe you should get Wild Bill Hickok into it. You heard what just happened over in Springfield, didn’t you?”
“About him shootin’ somebody named Tutt who won Bill’s watch fair and square in a poker game?”
“Yeah. The way I heard it, the next day he stood at the corner of the public square, right smack in the middle of the city, and waited two hours for Tutt to come by. Called him out and shot him in the heart.”
Eddie gasped, and his mouth dropped open.
“When’s Bill going to be up for trial?”
“I don’t know, but chances are he’ll be acquitted. Tutt could have been lucky and got off the first shot.”
Frances put down her fork. “He killed a man over a watch?” she asked indignantly.