Stuck Together (Trouble in Texas Book #3) (4 page)

“I’m never going to help with something so wrong.” Dare skidded to a halt in his pacing.

His attitude disappointed Tina mightily. She’d convinced him to come to the jail and had carefully and thoughtfully laid out her arguments. Dare seemed unable to get over Lana’s string of murder attempts. There had been three—on Dare. Tina wasn’t counting Glynna and Vince and Paul, though Glynna, Vince, and Paul sure counted them.

So six murder attempts. But Lana had never succeeded, for heaven’s sake!

“You think we should just throw open the cell door and let her loose?” Vince, of course, never failed to disappoint her. Tina didn’t even consider appealing to Vince to show some mercy to poor Lana.

But she’d hoped for better from Dare.

His momentary stillness didn’t last. He went back to his customary pacing back and forth from one side of the small jailhouse to the other, a bit faster than before, shaking his head emphatically.

“No, it’s a ridiculous notion. She can’t be allowed to run around free.”

Lana lay on her side on the thin mattress in her cell. She drummed her fingers on the mattress, her head propped up on her fist, watching them with sharp eyes. She seemed to have gotten used to being in there. Now she watched silently as Dare, Tina, Vince, and Mitch Porter, the former sheriff of Broken Wheel, talked about her fate.

Somehow in the midst of Lana’s madness she’d also found time to strike up a more-than-friendly acquaintance with the ex-sheriff. Porter had been bought and paid for by Flint Greer, and Porter had twisted the law around to suit Greer’s best interests. Now Vince was the sheriff, sworn in by Big John Conroy, but it was an unpaid job without Greer to supply the money as he had for Porter.

Porter meanwhile had moved into one of the vacant houses in Broken Wheel and lived on money he must have saved up from Greer’s salary.

Tina knew that besides fetching food for Lana, the job of sheriff didn’t take much time, so Vince had been a good sport about being stuck with the job.

Tina sat ramrod straight. Aunt Iphigenia had always insisted on correct posture, and never more so than when a woman needed to make a case for something. “I know she’s dangerous.”

“You figured that out all by yourself, huh?” Vince stood behind his desk with his back leaning against the wall. The jail had two cells that took up half the back of the building. A small hallway led between the cells and a tiny storeroom. There was a rack for rifles at Vince’s back that
had no rifles in it. If Vince wanted a gun for sheriffing, he needed to bring his own.

Vince had his arms folded and his ankles crossed, looking calm as ever. But his eyes were alert and they were staring at Tina so hard they seemed to punch holes in her very compassionate idea.

“She can’t stay here any longer and you know it.” Tina tapped her foot.

The question was, if not here, where? Big John, who made his home in Broken Wheel, even though he traveled most of the time, would make that decision next time he was in town.

Until then, Vince, the town lawyer, sworn deputy and unpaid public servant, was in charge of the prisoner.

“She needs to be released,” Mitch Porter shouted. He was sweet on Lana, which might be why he thought letting her loose was a good idea.

“Women are locked up in the same prison with men in Texas,” Tina said. “We can’t let that happen to her.”

“Yep, we can.” Vince’s eyes shot fire at Tina.

“It’s too horrible.” Tina surged from her chair, tempted to start pacing right along with Dare. “It’s unspeakable! She’d be at the mercy of evil men.”

Vince didn’t even quit his easy leaning. “I hope the poor men survive her company.”

Tina seriously considered whether Vince was going to survive her company. “I can’t believe you don’t see we have to help her.”

“What I
see
,” Vince said as he straightened from the wall and uncrossed his arms, so Tina knew he was serious, “is the knife sticking out of Dare’s back. I see Glynna and
Dare bleeding when that avalanche came down on their heads.”

“We don’t know Lana was responsible for that.” Tina needed her placard. She could’ve brandished it to underscore her seriousness.

“I see my friend’s house burning down around his ears. I see him getting ready to jump from a third-floor window to escape. Lana stays locked up. For good. She’s a menace, and none of us are safe if she’s set free.”

Lana said from where she lay, “I done some bad things, but I was plumb out of my mind. I’m fine now. You got my word I won’t burn no one up, nor stab them in the back, never again.”

As a defense against her crimes, that wasn’t going to be much help. “There have to be ways besides turning her in with a prison full of men.”

Tina stood and moved very deliberately into Dare’s path.

He stopped pacing rather than run her down. He said, “Vince is right. She’s a killer, Tina. Crazy doesn’t excuse that.”

“By law it does.”

“She’ll hurt someone if we turn her loose.” Dare was trying hard to be kindhearted about refusing Tina’s request.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” Lana snarled.

“That’s what jails are for,” Dare said, giving Lana a nervous glance, “to protect innocent people from dangerous ones.”

“She had a bad night,” Tina said.

“The avalanche, the fire, and the stabbing. Three separate attacks, all premeditated, and they happened weeks apart. That’s not a bad night.”

Tina shrugged one shoulder. “Now, Dare—”

Porter shouted, “She’s been sane and peaceful as can be ever since.”

Of course she’d been locked up tight.

“She doesn’t seem real dangerous right now, I’ll grant you that.” Vince gave Lana a glum look.

She arched a brow at him. “I said I was sorry. And I probably need a lawyer for when I go to trial. You’re the only lawyer in town, Yates. So I’m hiring you.”

“You can’t hire me. I’m probably going to be prosecuting you, not to mention being the one who arrested you, and you can add in I think you’re guilty as charged. Find another lawyer.”

“I can’t. You’re the only one in town.”

“Then you’re out of luck, Lana.”

“I need a lawyer so I can get out of here. I want to go back to cooking at the diner.”

Dare made a purely rude sound. “You expect my wife to give you a job after you stabbed me and held a knife to her throat?”

“I wasn’t thinking clear. I’m better now.” Lana rolled onto her back and wove her fingers together and rested them on her chest, staring at the jail ceiling. As if saying she was sorry was enough. She did seem mighty sane lying there in her cell.

“I can see myself being driven mad if Big John doesn’t get to town soon and haul Lana away.” Vince sounded irritable, but he leaned back against the wall again.

“You’re all a bunch of lying cowards. Blaming her for something she never done.”

“Porter,” Vince said, not bothering to even look at the
man, “I’m going to see you hung just to shut you up. Now, get out of here.”

Tina wondered just how the law worked in Texas.

Porter glared at Vince for a few seconds as if daring him. But Vince had eyes that could make a man back down, and finally Porter dropped his gaze and stormed out in a huff, slamming the door behind him.

“I know she’s dangerous, Dare.” Tina went back to her wheedling. “The thing is, maybe we could make her come to her senses.”

“I
have
come to my senses,” Lana said. “Stop bad-mouthing me.”

Lana glared at Tina, who realized she was more than a bit afraid of upsetting Lana. “I mean . . . we can make it safe to turn her loose.”

“How?” Dare asked.

This was the tricky part. “I thought that since you’re the doctor, you might know.”

“I know enough to believe it’s not possible. Once a mind is broken, it doesn’t come back.”

“I’ll say,” Vince muttered.

“Mine did.” Lana twiddled her thumbs and seemed to be memorizing the number of flyspecks on the ceiling. There were plenty of them.

Tina looked over at Vince, but he didn’t notice. And Vince was a noticing kind of man. “What do you mean, ‘I’ll say’?”

Vince glared at her and didn’t answer.

“So she’s going to prison?” Tina wanted to start screaming at the very thought. To put a woman in a prison full of men was—

“Maybe not.” Vince cut into her panic. “There are asy
lums. I don’t know where, but Texas is getting plumb settled these days. We could find out where the closest one is and take her there.”

“Do they need a cook in an asylum?” Lana asked. “Cooking in the diner was the best job I ever had.”

But then Lana was known to have worked her whole life abovestairs in one seedy saloon after another, so it didn’t take much to improve on that.

Dare ignored the question. “I heard of one called Bedlam that became famous in London. I know they had them in Chicago.”

“We can look into an asylum.” Vince gave Tina a kind look that seemed sincere. It was as if he understood her fears, which seemed strange when he was the most vocal about locking Lana away.

“I can’t imagine anyone being able to bear caring for a building full of furiously mad patients.” Tina felt sick at the very thought.

“Like feeding a pack of cowboys, I reckon,” Lana said.

“I can’t either.” Vince strode to the door and wrenched it open. He paused. “I’m going to ride out until I find someone who knows about asylums, and while I’m at it, I’ll ask about treatment for madness.”

“There are books about that kind of thing.” Dare frowned. “But we might need a medical school to find them. You can’t ride there. The closest colleges are in . . .” Dare pondered that for a minute. “There’s one in New Orleans. St. Louis has one. Memphis too, I think. It would take weeks to ride to one and get back.”

“It’s not like I’m real busy here.”

“You’re guarding the prisoner!” Tina jammed her fists on her waist.

Vince looked at Dare for a moment, then at Tina. “Can you be sheriff while I’m gone?”

“No! A woman can’t be sheriff.”

“I guess I could ask Griss to do it.” Vince peered through the open door toward Duffy’s Tavern.

“You would give my sworn enemy the job of upholding the law?”

With a shrug Vince said, “Just because he sells cheap whiskey doesn’t make him a bad man.”

“As a matter of fact, it does. He can’t be sheriff and neither can I.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because women aren’t sheriffs.”

“This is the West. Women can do anything they want . . . so long as the men let them. And what man in this town is gonna stop you from doing
anything
so long as you keep making them food and don’t let Glynna go back to cooking?” Vince flinched and glanced at Dare. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Dare said.

Vince turned back to Tina. “Dare can be sheriff except when he’s doctoring. Luke’s probably too busy. I’d ask Jonas, but it don’t seem proper that a parson be sheriff. What if he had to shoot somebody? It’d be hard to preach his way around that come Sunday morning.”

“I don’t think—”

“Good, because your thinkin’ has caused nothing but trouble. Consider yourself sworn in.” Vince plucked the star off his vest and tossed it to her. She caught it by reflex.

“Dare, try to remember any specific books you’ve heard of while I pack a bedroll. If you remember in time, I can ride to Dahl’s Pass and send a wire ordering them. Then we can ask the supply wagon driver to bring it along with him on his next trip. Otherwise I’ll have to ride farther afield.” Vince charged out and slammed the door.

“I’m the one who got a knife in my back,” Dare said, sounding exasperated. “What’s he so all-fired upset about?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that, too.” Tina held up the tin star and scowled at it. Sheriff? For heaven’s sake, how had that happened?

She thought of the strange way Vince had acted. It was important to him to track down this information, and Tina had a strong feeling it had absolutely nothing to do with the care and treatment of Lana Bullard.

Tina felt her shoulders square as her spirits rose to meet this challenge. “I see no reason I can’t be sheriff. My aunt Iphigenia always said a woman needs to know how to take care of herself. I think being sheriff means I can take care of this whole town.”

“You’re not going to start picketing again, are you?” Dare asked, rubbing one hand over his face.

“Of course I am. Right after the noon meal, unless my sheriffing work keeps me busy.” Tina pinned on her shiny badge.

“You can start your job by getting me some more food.” Lana sounded pathetic. “Dinner was mighty skimpy today.”

Tina wondered if being hungry might make the woman go crazy again. “I’ll get you something right away.”

Dare shook his head and walked out of the jailhouse. Tina went after him.

Lana called from the cell, “I wouldn’t mind a sip of whiskey with my meal.”

Tina shut the door, wishing Vince hadn’t gone and destroyed her placard. She’d like to wave it at Lana while she served up a whiskey-less meal.

Tina had been sheriff for a mighty long time when Vince finally came back.

It was a wearying job. She’d slept fitfully in the sheriff’s chair for the first three nights. Then Dare found out she was doing that and said she could leave Lana by herself overnight.

Even after she got her own bed back, she waited on the prisoner hand and foot. Lana was always hungry, and Tina would do about anything to shut her up. And Mitch Porter was always around clamoring for Tina to let Lana go, as if Tina had the authority to drop the charges. It was ridiculous, but she had no way to avoid listening to Porter’s endless complaints. Honestly, he was such a pest that Tina wanted to arrest him. She might have too if she thought she could wrestle him into a jail cell. But if she did manage it, then she’d have to start hauling two caterwauling prisoners their meals. She wondered how many meals Porter would demand a day.

It was doubly annoying because Vince hadn’t trusted her with the key. He’d given it to Dare, who’d refused to let her have it back. He’d called her a bleeding heart and
said if she needed to open the cell door, he wanted to be right there with her in case she decided to let Lana make a run for it rather than see her locked up in a prison full of men. Tina had to admit, it was an idea she found tempting.

Fortunately, Lana’s food could be shoved into her cell through a space near the floor.

Besides being a sheriff without any authority, she’d been cooking breakfast and dinner at Glynna’s diner. She was worn clean out and about ready to join Lana in Bedlam.

Now here she sat, right during her normal picketing time, while Lana snored through her afternoon nap. Tina did find the long hours of boredom gave her time to paint a new placard. It was tricky because mostly she wanted to paint Bible verses, but her board wasn’t long enough for most of them. The sign was nearly done, though, so she was ready with her mission just as soon as she had a few moments of free time.

The sound of clopping hooves drew her attention to the window, and she saw Vince ride in, his black duster flapping in the sharp January breeze. Vince, tall and slender, with neat dark hair, was the best-looking man Tina had ever seen. Which didn’t make him any less exasperating. He was also a tidy man as a rule, though right now he was filthy.

Tina grabbed her coat off the hook in the jailhouse and rushed outside. Then she realized what she was doing. Why had her spirits lifted at the sight of Vince Yates? Why had the sight of Vince made her run out to greet him? And why had she looked at how dirty and tired he was and wanted to take him in and feed him and care for him?

Since she was already outside, she reasoned that she was
just eager to quit being sheriff. Whatever her excuse, there was no denying that she was glad Vince was home.

Vince spotted her and rode straight to the jail. Even though he had lines of exhaustion on his dirty face, he managed to flash a smile at her that she couldn’t help but return. Despite his habitual torment of her, the man seemed almost as happy to see her as she was to see him.

“Did you find that book for Dare?”

Vince patted the bulging saddlebag. “I got a book and a stack of journals, besides some medical publications with articles in them. I ended up riding all the way to New Orleans.”

With a gasp, Tina said, “That far?”

Nodding as if the effort were almost beyond him, Vince said, “The Medical College of Louisiana is there and it has a good library. I also found a humane asylum.”

“Humane asylum, is that different than an insane asylum?”

“It’s a special home for the furiously mad with rules promising kindness. I asked about Texas, but no one could tell me if there was one here. Maybe a private one somewhere.”

“Well, at least you found the books.” Tina knew she sounded doubtful, but the whole idea of an asylum—a building packed with lunatics—made her queasy in her stomach.

Nodding, Vince went on, “On the advice of the folks at the college library, I ordered more writings. Did you know there’s an actual magazine called
The American Journal of Insanity
?”

Tina shook her head. “Strange to think there’s that big a need for information.”

“They’ll be shipped here as soon as possible. And the Louisiana Insane Asylum was begun due to pressure from a lady named Dorothea Dix, who’s made a crusade out of getting decent treatment for the insane. I wrote to her with more questions. I’m hoping she’ll write back.”

Tina thought of her quiet little work toward the cause of closing the tavern and caring for one madwoman, and now there was a woman who’d changed the whole state of Louisiana with her efforts. It made Tina feel like a failure.

The kind of girl whose parents vanished out of her life.

And whose brother could rarely be bothered to visit.

And whose aunt, after a lifetime of preaching on how a woman needed to take care of herself, had married a poor excuse for a man, then chosen that man over Tina.

A woman who’d been abandoned as many times as Tina could only conclude that her whole life was a failure. Shaking off the demoralizing thought, she went back to thinking about what Vince had just done for one poor woman. Why, he’d done more for Lana Bullard than Tina had.

“New Orleans is a long trip.” Tina knew Vince had gone on the trip due to pressure from her to keep Lana out of prison.

“It is for a fact.” Vince swung himself off his horse. His boots hit the packed dirt of the street, and dust puffed off him in a cloud. He tied his black gelding to a hitching post.

“It was nice of you to go.” In fact, it was so nice that Tina suddenly couldn’t quite believe he’d done it, not for Lana, who’d tried to kill Vince’s friend, and Tina seriously doubted he’d done it for her.

“How’s my prisoner?” he asked.

Tina forgot wondering about his generosity and the
long, hard ride he’d gone on, and remembered Vince the Coyote who’d stuck her with this job. She remembered with a shudder of relief to have something to be annoyed with Vince about. She was far more comfortable with that than with being charmed by the effort he’d just gone to or how nice it was to have him back.

“She’s getting fat. I’ve taken to feeding her six times a day just to shut her up.”

“Six times?” His disgusted expression hurt more than it should have.

It shouldn’t bother her, because the man was as tired as she was. With a tiny shrug of one shoulder, she said, “She was hungry.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have expected you to know what you were doing.”

“Because I fed her too much?” Tina arched a brow.

“I didn’t mean you—”

“You left me with a madwoman and now you’re criticizing how I did the job I never wanted in the first place?”

Vince raised both hands as if in surrender. “I should have known a woman—”

“You’re the one who gave the job to a woman. You’ve got a lot of nerve riding off without a by-your-leave”—or had she pushed him into going?—“and then coming back here to find fault.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.” Vince ran both hands deep into his hair.

“Take over, Mr. Lawman.” She was happier now that she was sparring with Vince. Those soft feelings just plumb scared her to death. She jerked the badge off her shirtwaist and threw it at him, just like he’d thrown it at her.

Vince let the badge bounce off his chest and fall to the hard ground, too busy scowling at her to even try to catch it.

“The truth is, you’re no more skilled at being a sheriff than I am. How many weeks ago did your friend baptize you into the job?”

“Deputize, not ‘baptize’ for heaven’s sake.” He pulled his hands free from his hair and kicked up a little dust doing it, then took a step toward her.

“You know what I mean.” She took a step toward him just to make sure he could hear every word she said.

“Stop fussing at me, woman.”

It would be her pleasure to never speak to him again. That ought to end any fussing. “If you’re done with your unkind assessment of my efforts, I’ll just go.” Thinking to sweep around him and walk away in grand style, she took one step and got too close.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him. “I was only saying I shouldn’t have lassoed you into a job you’re not suited for.”

“Because I’m a woman and not up to it?”

“Yes!”

“Why, you—”

“No!” Vince grabbed her other arm. “I mean no. You’re up to it. You did fine.”

Because she was very close, Tina saw the lines of exhaustion on his face. A spark of compassion made her want to hold him and soothe him and tuck him into bed with a nice kiss.

She immediately went back to picking a fight—much safer. “Let me go, Vincent Yates. Get your hands off me or so help me you’re gonna draw back a stub.”

He laughed.

Which was about the worst thing he could’ve done.

She jerked her arms to no avail. With motions too smooth and fast for her to overcome, he dragged her inside the jailhouse.

A quick glance told her Lana was still fast asleep, the lazy lout. “Take your hands—”

“Hush!” Vince gave Lana a quick, hard look. He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m exhausted.” His eyes flickered to her lips, then right back to meet her gaze. “Tina, I never meant to . . .”

He looked down again.

“Meant to what?”

Only silence met her question.

Tina, barely able to form a coherent thought, asked, “What should we do?”

His warm brown eyes sparked. Absently he said, “Oh, woman, I have got me some ideas what we should do.”

“I meant . . .” Her voice faded as she looked into those dark eyes and lost her train of thought. She might have looked at him all day. She might’ve done more than look. She’d never felt this kind of longing before. She’d never had a man hold her. Well, Jonas, but that was entirely different.

Vince’s grip on her upper arms loosened, and his hands shifted into a much gentler touch. He lowered his head, and she thought she was going to get the first kiss of her life. Instead he rested his forehead against hers. “What am I doing?”

Tina knew what he
wasn’t
doing. And she was mighty
ashamed of herself for being disappointed. She just stood there, her breath unsteady, her pulse pounding.

Vince ran his hands up and down her arms, the caress as warm as firelight. Their eyes met. Tina knew the heart wasn’t meant to beat this hard, and it wasn’t supposed to ache like this. Heaven only knew what damage being in Vince Yates’s arms was doing to her insides. Her brain was certainly working strangely too, because it felt so good to be held she couldn’t put a stop to it.

Then, with halting movements, Vince pushed her away and turned his back.

Her knees wobbled, and she had to fight to keep standing.

“I shouldn’t have put my hands on you.” He refused to look at her. “I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. It was the sweetest moment of Tina’s life and he was sorry. She wanted to demand he take that apology back, but suddenly all Tina could think of was the little girl whose parents had died. She couldn’t even remember them, and she’d never been told what happened.

The little girl with the stern, critical aunt who had never given hugs.

The little girl desperately in love with her heroic big brother, who hadn’t even bothered to come and see her when he’d been released from his prisoner-of-war camp. Instead he’d gone west on a quest to serve God. Tina had meant nothing to him.

Just as she meant nothing to Vince.

He could hold her close, then brush her away with an apology.

“Would you mind getting those books out of my saddlebag and taking them to Dare?”

It wasn’t enough for Vince to apologize; now he wanted her to get away from him. Clenching her jaw to keep from crying, she decided getting away was an idea with merit. She went out as silent and unwanted as a ghost who haunted the lives of others.

As she removed the books and papers from Vince’s saddlebag, she shook off her thoughts of loneliness.

Jonas wanted her. She’d had to foist herself on him, but once she was here, he’d welcomed her nicely. Of course, Jonas made almost no money and she did quite well at the diner.

On her way to Dare’s house with her armload of books and papers, she realized how precarious her position was. If Vince put his mind to it, he could probably persuade Jonas to send her away. Squaring her shoulders, she resolved to work hard and give Jonas every penny she made in hopes he’d let her live with him forever.

She thought of Duffy’s selling of demon rum and Lana Bullard’s madness, and decided, since Jonas seemed inclined to tolerate her mission in those areas, she’d focus on them. She’d work hard enough to never be cast out and guard her lonely heart.

It wasn’t that hard a decision to make. It was how she’d been living since her earliest memory.