Chapter Twelve
“Evenin’, Miss Robbins,” the telegraph operator said as she stepped up to the counter to send the weather report to the home office. The man slid a telegram across the counter to her. “That just came for you a few minutes ago. I knew you’d be in soon, or I would have had it delivered.”
“Thank you, Mr. Smithfield.” Delilah took the telegram in her hand then gave the man her outgoing message.
While he sent the report, she read the brief missive.
“Oh, no. This is horrible news!” Delilah’s hand went to her throat.
Dugan had been half-listening to one of the old-timers tell a story as he waited for Delilah to send the evening report. At the look on her face, he stepped close beside her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She handed him the telegram and leaned against the counter.
ROSS INJURED IN FALL. UNABLE TO TRAVEL. TRIP HOME DELAYED. STAYING WITH US. TRUNKS ON TRAIN.
Dugan read the message a second time before he handed it back to her. “I’m so sorry, Delilah. Is John Vanguard a friend?”
She nodded. “He and Papa have been friends for as long as I can remember. They served in the Army together and lived just a street over from our house. I used to play with the Vanguard girls sometimes.” A sigh worked its way out of her chest. “I just wish I knew the extent of his injuries and if he needs me to come take care of him.”
“It sounds like he’s hurt, but not too badly. If he was in really bad shape, he’d probably be at the hospital instead of with Mr. Vanguard. And a delay in the trip is better than it being canceled,” Dugan said, trying to sound encouraging. “What does ‘trunks on train’ mean?”
“It means, Major Vanguard made sure the trunks and crates Papa planned to ship after he packed up the house are on the train.”
“That’s great news, then,” Dugan said, smiling at her. “You’ll have all your nice things from home, soon. You’ve mentioned how much you miss your outdoor furniture and your parlor set. Will those things be on the train?”
“Yes, I suppose so. Papa was even going to pack a few of my favorite birdhouses and garden statuary.”
Delilah read the message again. “I’d feel better if I knew more about what happened. I think I’ll send a telegram to John for more details.”
Dugan waited while she wrote out the message and Mr. Smithfield sent it. After Delilah paid him for the telegrams, Dugan took her elbow in his hand and guided her outside into the bright spring sunshine.
“How about I treat you to supper at the café?” he asked as they strolled along the boardwalk.
“Supper?” Delilah snapped her head up, as though she’d stepped out of a fog, and looked around. “Gracious! I forgot I promised Deputy Harter I’d meet him for dinner at the hotel. I’m so sorry, Dugan, but I really must go. Thank you for keeping me company earlier.”
“Anytime,” he said, watching her hurry down the street to the hotel.
Dugan felt his ire rising with every swaying step Delilah took. He couldn’t blame his best friend for wooing the lovely woman, but Seth dang sure could have found someone to court other than the girl who’d struck Dugan’s fancy.
Perhaps he was fooling himself, thinking he saw something in her eyes when she looked at him.
A light. A spark. An indescribable glow.
More likely, it was wishful thinking on his part. What would a refined, elegant woman like Delilah Robbins want with a rough and tough man like him?
Nothing.
He couldn’t think of a single thing he had to offer she couldn’t find elsewhere. The only thing he could give her was his heart. Devotion. Love. Unbridled affection.
Thoughts of how much he’d like to unbridle it left him feeling overheated in the fading evening sunlight.
Dugan turned around and headed back to the sheriff’s office. It was his turn to work the night shift. Things had been relatively quiet and he hoped they stayed that way. He unlocked the door to the office and stepped inside. After pouring a cup of coffee from the dregs left in the pot then deciding he might as well make a fresh batch, he settled at his desk and completed several reports.
He filed them then took out the folder with the wanted posters. Since the night Elmer Muldoon had called him Hugh Allen, Dugan couldn’t shake the feeling he’d heard or seen that name before, but he couldn’t think where.
He’d gone through the wanted posters a few times, but nothing jumped out at him with that name. With nothing but time to kill, he decided to go through them again, one at a time. Two hours later, he’d read every single one of them but was no closer to figuring out who Hugh Allen was than when he started.
Dugan recalled pulling a wanted poster from the stack a while back, intending to research the information further. What had happened to it? Between Tully being gone, Elmer dying in his cell, and fighting his feelings for Delilah, he’d completely forgotten about it.
Quickly searching through his desk drawers and finding nothing, he looked through the files on Seth’s and Tully’s desks too.
He checked the cabinet where they kept supplies, the filing cabinet, and even the cupboard where they stored a few dishes and the fixings for the coffee. The only thing he found for his troubles was a dried up carcass of a frog behind the filing cabinet that must have been there since last summer.
Frustrated, Dugan left the office and made a round through town. Grateful everything was quiet, he returned to the office and resumed his search. Since he’d been cleaning while he looked for the missing wanted poster, he decided to move the desks and clean behind and beneath them. He shoved his desk forward and away from the wall, then grabbed the broom.
A piece of paper, trapped in a crack in the floorboards, fluttered against the wall when he turned around with the broom.
He tugged the paper loose and turned it over. “By jingo, I knew it had to be around here somewhere,” he said, setting the wanted poster on his desk. He hurried to finish cleaning the floor and wiping the dust from his desk before he pushed it back into place.
With a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, he sat down at his desk and studied the wanted poster. According to the information on it, a man named Hugh Allen was wanted in Ada County, Idaho, for robbery and murder, having shot and killed a deputy during his escape. A reward of five-hundred dollars was promised to whoever brought in Allen, dead or alive.
“I think I’d like to see him alive and find out exactly why Elmer thought I was him,” Dugan mumbled to himself as he read the information on the poster a second time. He studied the rough sketch someone had drawn of Hugh Allen. He couldn’t see any similarities between himself and the criminal. Allen had a full beard and a scar that ran from the corner of his right eye down his cheek. At least if he ever saw the outlaw lurking around, he should be able to identify him.
The fact Elmer had been so convinced Dugan was the outlaw continued to bother him. What had Elmer meant about not doing Allen’s dirty work for him anymore? How many people had Elmer killed at Allen’s orders to do so?
Questions buzzed around his brain like flies at a summer picnic until Dugan got up and went outside, drawing in deep breaths of the crisp night air. When his thoughts calmed, he returned inside and glanced at the clock on the wall above the door.
Seth might have escorted Delilah to supper, but he bet his friend wouldn’t be up and ready to take her to the sunrise Easter service Pastor Eagan had planned down by the river near Ian and Maggie’s place.
Quickly tacking a note on the door in case someone came looking for him, Dugan hurried home. In record time, he took a bath, shaved, and changed into clean clothes. He started to dress in his one good suit, but decided he better not just in case someone needed him before he could get to the church service.
He grabbed a box of candy he’d purchased at the mercantile, and stopped long enough on his way back to the office to pick a few tulips blooming in an abandoned lot.
Antsy as he waited for time to pass, he scoured the coffee pot, straightened the files, and reread the notes he’d taken the night Elmer died.
At half-past four, he gathered the flowers and candy. He rushed out the door and made his way to the Robbins’ cottage. Delilah was just stepping out the back gate when he reached it.
“Morning, Miss Robbins,” he called in a subdued tone.
She spun around on the boardwalk and smiled at him. “Good morning, Deputy Durfey. Happy Easter.”
“Happy Easter to you,” he said, holding out the flowers and box of fancy chocolates Frank Miller assured him were the best he carried in the store.
“This is so sweet, Dugan,” she said, accepting the flowers and candy. “Thank you so much. Would you mind waiting a moment while I take them inside?”
“Not at all. I’ll wait right here.” Pleased she appeared to like the candy and flowers, he felt a bit triumphant he was the first to offer her Easter greetings even if she had plans with Seth later. Only a few minutes passed before she stepped beside him and handed him one of the chocolates.
“You don’t have to share,” he said, taking the candy and popping it in his mouth. The rich confection was as delicious as Frank promised. Dugan glanced at Delilah’s lips in the muted light from the street lamps. He could think of something that would taste even better, though.
“I appreciate the gift and your company this morning,” Delilah said as they walked toward the weather station.
“It’s my pleasure.”
She unlocked the door to the weather station and stepped inside. Up until he began accompanying her there, he’d never paid any mind to the equipment, but she’d pointed out the barometers, thermometers, thermograph, anemometers, rain and snow gauges, and the various other pieces of equipment and delicate-looking instruments used to report all conditions of weather. Much to his amazement, she’d also shown him how each instrument worked and patiently explained why they used it to track and predict the weather.
Dugan found it all interesting, but not quite as fascinating as the rosy cheeked girl who could easily have taken over the job if the weather bureau felt inclined to hire women, which they apparently did not.
Delilah jotted down the information she needed to send the morning report then they left the building, locking it behind them.
“I was wondering, if you don’t have other plans, would you be interested in accompanying me to the sunrise service this morning?” Dugan asked as they neared the telegraph office.
A smile lit her face as she turned to him and nodded in agreement. “I’d like that very much. I’ll send the telegram then we can head over to the river. Pastor Eagan said the service would begin at a quarter past five.”
Delilah waited as the telegraph operator unlocked the door and rushed inside as the first costumer of the day. Someone manned the telegraph round the clock, although the office was open from five in the morning until eight in the evening.
“Good morning, Mr. Wickensham. Happy Easter to you,” Delilah said as she and Dugan stepped inside.
“Happy Easter to you both. Are you headin’ over to the pastor’s service?”
“We are,” Dugan said. “Will you be able to attend or do you have to stay here?”
“I’m on duty until eight this morning, so I won’t be able to attend,” Mr. Wickensham said as he sent Delilah’s telegram.
When he finished, he handed her an envelope. “That message came for you a bit ago.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful Easter.”
“I plan to, Miss Robbins. You do the same.”
Dugan gave the man a parting nod. “Enjoy your day, Ed.”
“I will, Dugan.”
Once they were outside, Delilah moved beneath a street lamp and opened the envelope. She scanned the message and released the breath she’d been holding.
“Good news?” Dugan asked as he took her elbow and escorted her toward the river. Several other people stepped out of their yards and homes, heading that direction.
“Papa was carrying a trunk down the stairs and tripped, sprained his ankle, and suffered a concussion. The doctor ordered he stay off his foot for two weeks. Once he is allowed to travel, he’ll return home.”
Dugan almost whooped in excitement to hear her refer to Baker City as home. He certainly hoped she’d one day consider it her home, but perhaps he wouldn’t have to wait as long as he thought for that day to arrive.
“That’s great to hear, Delilah,” Dugan said, guiding her across a street and onward toward the river. “If there’s anything I can do to assist you until your father returns, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Dugan. You’ve been such a help to me already.” She gave him a warm look that made his heart flop around in his chest like he’d hauled in a fish and left it to flounder on the riverbank.
Delilah waved to Tully and Brianna as they neared. Sammy ran over and gave Delilah a hug and chattered nonstop as they walked past the MacGregor’s home. Maggie and Ian fell into step beside them.”
“Happy Easter!” Maggie said and gave Sammy a hug, then shared one with Brianna and Delilah. “It’s wonderful to see so many out for the service this morning.”
“Are you coming to the park later?” Sammy asked Maggie.
“The park? What’s in the park?” Maggie asked, feigning innocence.
From past years, Dugan knew the civic committee planned an egg roll in the park followed with games and prizes. It was fun to watch, although today he’d most likely be home asleep as soon as he escorted Delilah to the cottage and finished his shift that ended at eight.
Sammy gave Maggie a look that clearly illustrated she knew the woman was teasing. “You know good and well it’s the egg roll and hunt in the park, Aunt Maggie.”
“Oh, I suppose I do.” Maggie tweaked the child’s nose. “Do you have a basket ready to gather eggs?”
“I sure do,” Sammy said, grabbing onto her mother’s hand and giving it a swing in the air. “Mama and I decorated it yesterday, and we’ve got new dresses, too.”
“Because Fred needed one more gown in her ever-expanding collection,” Tully said, kissing his wife’s cheek.
“You just hush about my clothes, Tully Barrett, or you’ll be explaining to everyone your ever-growing arsenal of weaponry. At this rate, you’ll have a collection to rival Ian’s.”
“Ach, lass,” Ian said with a grin. “Surely not.”
Lighthearted banter among the friends made Dugan grin as they made their way to the bank of the river. Pastor Eagan and the pastor from the Lutheran church joined together to offer a heartfelt service. Together, members of both congregations stood and watched the sun rise over the tree-dotted hills.
In the trees to their right, Dugan heard the song of a mourning dove followed by a symphony of chorus.
“Who is singing to us this morning?” he asked, bending down to whisper in Delilah’s ear.
A shiver rolled over her and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing until she looked up at him with dewy eyes and a warm smile. “The mourning dove, a chickadee, sparrows, and…” she paused and listened before continuing, “a meadowlark.”
“It seems a fitting serenade this morning.”
“It certainly does.”
After the service, Maggie invited their circle of friends back to the MacGregor house for breakfast. Hattie and Edwin said they needed to get back to the boardinghouse to prepare breakfast for the guests that had arrived last night as well as Jemma and Thane. Everyone else headed toward the MacGregor’s home. Dugan walked Delilah as far as the front walk before he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“I have to get back to work, but I hope you’ll tell me all about the goings-on in the park if you attend.”
“I certainly will,” she said, taking a step closer to him and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I was missing Papa quite dreadfully this morning and your presence and gifts certainly helped chase away my blues. Thank you, again, Dugan, and happy Easter to you.”
“You’re welcome, Delilah. Thank you for going with me to the service. Enjoy breakfast and eat one of Maggie’s muffins for me.”
“I will.”
Dugan watched her hurry inside the house with his friends before he turned to head back to the sheriff’s office with a spring in his step.