Chapter 37
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - August 1874
From his desk at the Sheriff's office, Kid watched a well-dressed man hesitantly navigate the town's boardwalk. The man seemed as out of place as Kid himself would strolling through New York City. Kid observed the man adjust his spectacles before pushing open the doors of the Sheriff's office.
"Can I help you, sir?" Kid rose, extending a hand.
"Sheriff?" The man questioned.
Kid offered a handshake. "McCloud's the name."
"Henry R. Galveston Esquire, from Baltimore," the man introduced himself, rummaging through his satchel. "Received a most unsettling telegram from a client the other day."
"All this way for a client?" Kid raised an eyebrow.
"Her father was a good friend," the man explained. "I handle legal matters for the family on occasion."
"So, Mr. Galveston, what brings you here from Baltimore?"
The man unfolded the wrinkled telegram with trembling hands. "Mr. Galveston," he read aloud. "I have been detained longer than expected. Please ensure all debts are covered. I will explain upon my return to Baltimore. Signed, Gabrielle Joséphine Laurent."
"What can I do to help you, sir?" Kid shrugged, unsure of the situation.
"Most curious," the man muttered, his brow furrowed. He clutched his satchel tighter, anxiety radiating from him. "Miss Laurent is a very capable young woman, far more responsible than most her age. This is highly unusual behavior."
"I understand your concern," Kid replied cautiously, "but I'm not sure how I can be of assistance." He didn't know this man, and without Gabrielle to vouch for him, revealing any information felt risky.
"She was coming here," the man explained, urgency creeping into his voice. "With her sister, for only a month, back in June. I fear she may have been abducted, or worse."
Kid sighed, the weight of the situation settling on him. "Come with me," he instructed, putting on his hat. He led the man to the schoolhouse, then went inside to fetch Violette.
Moments later, Violette emerged. "Mr. Galveston?" She inquired, a note of surprise in her voice.
The older man's eyes widened. "Child," he exclaimed, rushing forward and grasping her hands tightly. He pulled her close, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "Where is your sister?"
"She's fine," Violette reassured him.
He produced the telegram. "I received this from Wyoming."
Violette scanned it, relief washing over her. "She was hurt, but she's okay. Just recuperating in Wyoming until she heals completely."
"She missed the quarterly shareholders meeting, and the board of directors are threatening to oust her by next quarter if she doesn't attend. They've never been comfortable with a woman on the board, especially one so young, and are grasping at any reason to remove her."
"What happens if they vote her out?" Violette's brow furrowed.
"A Laurent has held a seat on that board, leading the company, for generations!" His eyes widened with urgency. "It would mean she loses her voice in the family business."
"That's her family's company! It's her birthright, they can't take that away!" Violette exclaimed, her voice rising. "She'd be heartbroken."
"The next meeting is in October," Mr. Galveston pressed. "She needs to be back in Baltimore by then."
"She mentioned returning in a few weeks," Violette reassured him, taking a deep breath. "There should be plenty of time."
"There's no room for delay! She must return home at once!" Mr. Galveston's voice boomed with a touch of desperation.
"I'll make sure to let her know," Violette promised, a small smile playing on her lips laced with worry. "Thank you, Mr. Galveston."
"My dear, take care," he replied, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace, clearly bothered by the dust clinging to his polished shoes.
Violette re-entered the schoolhouse, her steps heavy. Collapsing onto a chair next to Teresa, a wave of guilt washed over her. Her sister was right. Violette never actively participated in the family business, never truly considered it hers, despite benefiting from it financially.
How selfish she had been. The potential loss of Gabrielle's seat on the board, their family legacy, would weigh heavily on her conscience. And the argument... it was her fault Gabrielle was almost killed.