Chapter 12
Jarrod arrived at the ranch and was grateful Ciego was able to take Jingo. He rushed inside, setting his things down on the small table in the foyer. He didn't see anyone in the parlor and then took the stairs by twos. He walked past Emma's room, his heart sinking at the open door and her not in her bed for her usual afternoon nap. He heard Vi crying loudly and he followed the sound to his and Becca's room.
Becca was walking back and forth, trying to soothe the small child but Vi was having none of it. She continued to cry no matter what position Becca tried.
Jarrod walked into the room and Becca smiled at him tiredly.
"This one has been fussy all day. Nothing calms her down," she said.
Jarrod lifted the small baby from his wife's arms and brought her to his chest. He began to hum softly. Vi's cries continued for several more minutes until Jarrod's deep baritone voice got through to her.
"You seem to have the magic touch, Mr. Barkley," Becca said as she gave Jarrod a kiss.
"Are Audra and Emma here?" Jarrod asked.
"In the kitchen baking with Silas, I think. They were supposed to go to the orphanage today but Audra said they were going to postpone that. Emma was quite sad about it, so I let her stay up from her afternoon nap to help…"
Jarrod sighed with relief. He was glad Vi provided him with a distraction so Becca wouldn't see how worried he had been. He needed to tell her about the telegram operator in Fresno, but he didn't want to cause her any unnecessary worry. It could all just be a coincidence. He thought about waiting until he heard back from John before saying anything specific. He realized that by keeping the information from Becca he was risking the trust they were just beginning to rebuild as well as endangering them all.
Vi fell asleep in her father's arms which delighted Jarrod.
"You're back early," Becca commented as she took Vi from Jarrod, placing her in her crib. She turned back to Jarrod and he drew her close. He led her to the bed and sat them both down.
"I heard some news and I wanted to share it with you," Jarrod started.
Becca bit her lower lip, sensing the news was not good.
"What is it?" she asked, her violet eyes searching his blue ones.
"I found out yesterday that the telegram operator in Fresno was murdered," Jarrod said. Becca started to stand, and Jarrod grabbed hold of her arm to sit her back down.
"It could just be a coincidence. I sent for John with Pinkertons to go to Fresno and check things out. He's headed there now. We should hear something soon. In the meantime, we keep doing what we are doing. We stay around here where we have the hands watching for anything or anyone suspicious. The sheriff in town is aware too and he's keeping an eye out."
Becca stood and this time Jarrod let her. She paced back and forth, trying to calm herself down. Jarrod watched, hoping he had sounded confident enough to convince her he could keep them safe. He wouldn't admit it to her, but he was starting to have doubts himself.
Becca turned to him.
"Can we go back to the lodge? Now that Vi is here, we don't need a doctor nearby. We can go there and be safe," she pleaded.
Jarrod hated seeing the terror in her eyes. He walked to her and gathered her in his arms.
"I'm worried that if we leave the ranch we could be spotted before we get to the lodge. As far as we know now, Elliot doesn't know where you and Emma are. For now, let's stay put."
He felt Becca nod her head against him.
"Jarrod, I'm so afraid," she whispered as she clung to him. Elliot Thatcher was a ruthless man. He'd had his own son killed. Becca knew he wouldn't hesitate to do that or worse to her, Emma or Jarrod and his family.
"I know. I'm here, Becca. I'm here. We'll get through this. Elliot won't win," Jarrod said softly, his deep voice sounding calm and assured although inside Jarrod battling his own fears.
John Hampton stepped down from the stagecoach and looked around. The town was small and finding the sheriff wasn't going to be that difficult. He saw a deputy standing outside of the telegram office just down the way.
John walked toward the sheriff's office and was glad to find the sheriff at his desk.
"Hello," John greeted, introducing himself as he took his credentials from his pocket, showing the sheriff he worked for Pinkerton's.
"I'm Pat Carter," the sheriff replied. The sheriff stood and the men shook hands. Carter was in his mid forties. His brown eyes looked at John with curiosity.
"Just arrived in town. Was hoping to get some information."
The sheriff motioned for John to take a seat.
"Coffee?" he asked. John nodded.
"What information do you want?" Carter asked as he handed a cup of the dark, hot liquid to the other man.
"Heard you had some trouble a few weeks back. Your telegram operator was murdered?"
Carter sat down and took a sip of his coffee.
"Yep."
"I'm working on a case and it might be related. Do you have any reports…" John watched as the sheriff stood and walked over to a small cabinet. He pulled out a folder and handed it to John. To say John was impressed was an understatement. The sheriff had compiled a wealth of information.
John took a few moments to begin reading through what he had been given.
"Has anything like this ever happened before?" John asked.
"Nope. Fresno hasn't been incorporated very long. I've only been here a year. We've had three murders in less than 24 hours. All appear to be done by the same person and yet no one saw a damn thing," Carter replied, his frustration clearly shown.
John began to feel uneasy since Jarrod had told him his wife's mother lived in Fresno.
"Do you have the reports on the other murders?"
"Back of the file," Carter responded.
John flipped to the back of the file he was holding, and his heart sank. "Emmaline Porter."
"Nice lady. Kept to herself. Had a brother visiting off and on. I thought he was somehow involved but I can't figure out how. Only thing that ties them all together is Walt had delivered a telegram to Mrs. Porter the week before."
John stood and handed the file back to Carter.
"Thank you, Sheriff. I think I have all the information I need. Tell me, did you ever get a replacement for your telegram operator? I need to send a wire," John asked.
Sheriff Carter shook his head.
"Supposed to arrive tomorrow. Do you know who did this?" the sheriff asked.
John sighed. He didn't want to give away any more information than he had to. He respected the office the other man held, but given Elliot Thatcher's long reach, he had no guarantee that the man in front of him wasn't somehow involved. That was not likely, John's gut told him, but he also knew he couldn't take any chances.
"Maybe. Because of the sensitive nature of the case, I can't really share any more than that. I appreciate your time."
John and Carter shook hands. John then went to check on the times for the next stage to depart to Stockton.
John boarded the stage with one other passenger, also headed to Stockton. The men introduced themselves and chatted briefly then rode in silence the rest of the way.
Hendricks was careful to not say anything that would give him away. He decided to go back to Fresno before heading to Stockton on a hunch and that hunch paid off. He eyed the other man and knew once they reached Stockton, he'd ask John for the information he needed. If John didn't want to answer, then Hendricks would persuade him.
After Emma was tucked into bed, Jarrod and Becca met with everyone to let them know of the latest information. Nick and Heath left shortly after to speak to the ranch hands to make sure they were staying vigilant. They were going to ride over to the Wheelers and Marvin's to ask to use some of their hands to help. Jarrod didn't want to hire anyone they didn't know. However, he trusted the Wheelers and Marvin's to only send their most trustworthy crews. Jarrod also thought of another source where they could get people to help protect the ranch. He had Nick send one of the ranch hands to Pinewood with a note from Jarrod.
That night, the family had turned in except for Jarrod. He was still uneasy about the latest news and wanted to do a check of the downstairs once more.
As he was walking toward the stairs from the kitchen, he heard a knock at the front door. He took a deep breath. He looked over at the hat tree and saw his gun belt hanging and picked up his gun. He walked toward to the door just as the knock came again. He wanted to answer it before anyone else in the house heard it.
He slowly opened the door and saw Fred standing on the other side.
"Fred," Jarrod greeted and opened the door wider for the other man to enter.
"What brings you out this way this time of night?" Jarrod asked, a sense of dread filling him.
"I have bad news, Jarrod. John Hampton has been badly injured. From what I can tell, he arrived on the late stagecoach and was headed toward the hotel. Someone jumped him and pulled him into an alley. He's alive, but his injuries are bad. I thought you'd want to know."
Jarrod took a deep breath.
"Thank you, Fred. I'd like to ride back to town with you and see him. I just need to let Becca know," Jarrod said.
"Of course, Jarrod. I'll meet you outside."