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"You stay away from him," Carrie said to Judge Foster, her eyes blazing. She shot Fred a look. His face was swollen and bruised.
She did not blame him for turning away from her when she'd gone to kiss him, but it had hurt. She understood his anger, but that did not make it easier to bear. Who would want to be tied to a bed, chained up like a beast? There had been no other recourse, though. She and Bia had cleaned and staunched Fred's wounds as best they could, but he would have died had she not brought him here. It was a wonder that he had not died along the way.
Carrie had stopped Bessie every five minutes to check on his breathing until Bia had finally told her she was just wasting precious time. It had taken them all night and half the day to reach Helena.
Bia had gone with her to the hospital. They had drawn much attention. An Indian woman and a farm girl with an injured man riding upon a horse. Carrie almost laughed at the image they must have made. When the doctors had recognized Fred, she had braced herself for the worst of it. She was prepared to tell the sheriff how Fred had saved her life. Bia had agreed to tell him the same.
She had not been prepared for Judge Foster.
He smiled cordially at her now. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Ackerman. As always." The judge tipped his hat to her.
Carrie glared at him.
"I told you not to return here," she said, her teeth gritting together.
"And I told you that was impossible."
Carrie searched the hospital floor, looking for a nurse or a doctor who might usher Judge Foster away. They had allowed very few visitors. Was now really the time to start? John and Sarah had come the first day, more for Carrie's benefit than Fred's.
John Bowman was a good man. She was glad it was Sarah who had married him, though, and not herself. He was too stiff for her taste. Too... stoic. Though Sarah seemed to enjoy his humor, Carrie would have found it dull. She adored his children, though. She had only been staying with them for a few days, but already she knew that Sarah must have her hands full.
Carrie spotted a nurse near the door to their ward. She pointed toward them as two men approached. Their boot heels clacked loudly as they walked, irritating Carrie's ears.
"Can none of you leave him be?" Carrie demanded as Sheriff Hardy approached. "Fred must rest. It is the doctor's wishes."
She felt a tug on her sleeve. Fred was looking at her, his dark eyes shining brightly, softly. "Carrie, it's all right."
She pinched her lips together and folded her arms across her chest.
"Sorry, miss," Sheriff Hardy said. "Judge Foster asked us to come along, and we thought it for the best."
Carrie turned her eyes to the man beside him. "Who is this?" she demanded of a man in his mid-twenties. He had brown hair and brown eyes and looked no more threatening than a butterfly, but Carrie knew that looks could be deceiving.
"This is Deputy William Gage," said the sheriff. "I asked him to come along today just in case."
"That's Billy, to my friends, Miss," Deputy Gage said, offering her a small smile. She ignored him completely. She wasn't interested in boyish charm at the moment.
"In case of what?" Carrie screeched at the sheriff. She felt Fred's hand tug at her sleeve again and shook him off. "No," she cried. "I want to know what's going on."
Sheriff Hardy sighed. She had met him twice since her arrival, and both times he had struck her as a good man. He had a strong chin that spoke of his character and piercing green eyes that she assumed most women found attractive. Were it not for already having her heart set upon Fred's deep blue ones, she might have found them enticing herself. As it was, on this particular occasion, she found them rather dull. And his hair was too long. He looked disheveled to her. It was completely unbecoming of an officer of the law.
The sheriff was watching her. His cheeks reddened slightly the more she stared at him, and he began to frown. He cleared his throat.
"Fred seemed to be stirring a bit yesterday. The doctors thought... well, I can see they were right. He's awake now."
"So?" Carrie asked, placing her hands on her hips. "What does his being awake have to do with your presence here?
Fred laughed and gave the sheriff a pitiful look. "You'd better answer her, Sheriff. I know that look she's giving you. She thinks you belong in Bedlam."
Carrie rounded on Fred, a surprised smile drawing up on her lips when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed his back.
"We're here to make things official," Sheriff Hardy said. He looked directly at Fred. "We've got to place you under arrest, Fred. You know that, don't you?"
Fred nodded and indicated his cuffed arm. "I kinda figured that out."
"Fred told me that you've been hunting him for weeks," Carrie snapped. "You must feel great satisfaction now that you've caught an innocent man."
"Innocent?" Sheriff Hardy asked, blinking. He looked at Deputy Gage, and they both began to cackle like hyenas. "Miss Ackerman, Fred here robbed a bank. You know that, don't you? Your own brother-in-law's bank. Surely he told you."
"Yes, of course," said Carrie, quite on edge. "I mean, he is innocent of harming anyone. He saved my life, as well as that of the Indian woman who was traveling with us."
"Judge Foster here says he robbed your stagecoach." The sheriff nodded toward the judge. "I talked to Mr. Bedielson and the driver; they both agree it was Fred."
Carrie let out an exasperated sigh. How could these lawmen all be so stupid? Did they not see Fred's innocence plain as day?
"I am speaking of the accusation of murder," she said.
"Enough!" Judge Foster yelled. "I have heard enough from everyone here." He looked at Fred. "You will be moved out of here and to a cell. Today."
Carrie looked at the judge, horrified. "You can't move him yet," she cried. "He's still too weak."
"He's well enough to talk. Well enough to breathe. If he can do these things, then he is well enough to be moved." He nodded his head as if he had the final say in the matter. Maybe he did.
Carrie vowed to speak with a doctor straight away and see if she could convince him to keep Fred here a little longer.
The first time Judge Foster had shown himself at the hospital, while Carrie was in a waiting area, she had been happy to see him. She knew of his feud with Fred, but had forgotten it momentarily when she'd seen the man alive and well. She'd thanked him for his bravery during the robbery, and he'd warmly taken her hand, saying how glad he'd been to discover she was alive and well. They'd been looking for her and had assumed her dead.
His kindness had made things that much more difficult for her when things had begun to go south. He'd wanted to know everything that had happened with Fred. When she'd told him the truth—that Fred had saved her life—he'd grown angry, accused her of lying, and had stormed off.
Carrie knew it was not the Christian way, but a part of her had begun to wish that Judge Foster had not made it to Helena. Not that he was dead, precisely, only that he was... incapacitated. Perhaps if he took a blow to the head from an unruly horse, or broke his foot while hunting, he might not be able to think clearly and would forget all this nonsense with Fred.
"Judge Foster," Fred began, "I shall be happy to stand trial for the murder of your wife."
Carrie looked at him as if he'd finally lost his mind for real. "No, you won't," she said.
Fred's eyes went to hers. "Yes, I will. Because it will finally mean that I can prove my innocence. Robberies are nothing compared to murder."
Carrie flushed as the sheriff and his deputy looked at her. She supposed that they could not believe a proper woman would be interested in the likes of Fred Connor. Well, if so, then she supposed she was not a proper woman. To prove her point, she kissed Fred on the lips right in front of them.
This time, Fred did not turn away. His anger at her had clearly faded and for that she was grateful. When she turned back to them, the judge's face was red as a beet. It was as though he'd taken personal offense at her feelings for Fred.
"I shall see you hanged," Judge Foster said to Fred. "Trial or no trial, you will die by my hand."
Carrie's mouth fell open. "You would not commit a murder," she said, putting her arms protectively over Fred.
"I would see justice," Judge Foster said. "He will be moved today. His cell awaits."
The cuff on Fred's hand jangled loudly. It echoed through the hospital room, giving Carrie a bad feeling. This was all wrong. She would have to do something to change it. Now, before it was too late.
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