May 1883
Minnie and Art were once again going for a walk. The near-scandal of their night alone during the snow storm had long since died down. Truth be told, after he risked life and limb to save her from his rogue deputy, the townsfolk embraced Art and treated him with the respect and deference they'd shown the previous sheriff but hadn't yet bestowed on him.
Reverend Green preached a couple fire and brimstone sermons on gossip, too, which might have helped a bit. Although, if the talk around town could be believed, the reverend was looking to get remarried, and that may have been the motive behind his sermons.
"So much for the evils of gossip," Minnie said with a laugh.
"Hey, I don't have a problem with the good reverend remarrying. Nevertheless, I can't help but wonder who the lucky lady is. That's all." A blush stole up his cheeks as he defended himself.
"My parents told me last night that they believe I'm old enough to start making my own choices, and they trust me to make good decisions."
Art nodded. "That's a mighty fine compliment."
"I told them I appreciated what they had to say but, in my mind, I was removing the word old and replacing it with responsible."
"And what did they say to that?"
Minnie grinned. "They were agreeable until I told them I was going for a walk and would be telling everyone I met along the way that my parents think I'm responsible."
"Oh, my. You have a way with people, don't you?"
She winked at Art. "I didn't tell them I was meeting one person in particular. For all they know, I'm wandering in and out of every establishment in town telling everyone I meet that my folks think I'm responsible."
Art's laughter rang through the spring air.
Comfortable silence settled between them as they continued to walk.
After a spell, Art asked, "Does it feel good to know you're no longer under suspicion in San Francisco?"
"It does," she said. "In all honesty, San Francisco was a lifetime ago. That whole mess there was some kind of crazy dream. The years I spent there hardly seem real anymore. Have you heard anything from Detective Wilcox about Metcalf, Mr. Lynus, and Mr. Wong?"
Art said, "Are you sure you want to hear about this? It's not very savory."
"Don't forget, before I started writing serials, I did news stories for the Chronicle. I am not the same sheltered girl as when I left Larkspur all those years ago."
"Speaking of which, how are your serials coming?"
"You're not changing the subject, Arty Paulson." She laughed and reached her hand out to give his arm a little shove. "Now tell me about the men involved with the photograph."
"You can't blame a man for trying," he said with a chuckle. "Carl agreed to testify for the state against Mr. Lynus. He'd never met or had any business with the other two, so he couldn't contribute anything to the cases against Metcalf and Wong. Unfortunately, Lynus was found dead in his cell before he went to trial. Metcalf and Wong are the main suspects, but they would have hired someone to take care of it for them. It looked like suicide, but Wilcox is pretty certain it was staged to look that way."
"I'm sorry he died such a horrible death, even if he is the man who hired Carl to kill me."
"With the photographic evidence that Metcalf knew Wong," Art continued, "they were able to get warrants to search all kinds of records and were able to build a pretty good case against Metcalf. The problem with it is that the case is for bribery and nothing else. They can't tie him to Wong's empire without direct testimony, and everyone who might have been able to testify about it has gone missing. Some of the bodies have turned up, some haven't."
"Was Governor Stoneman aware of what Metcalf was doing?"
Art shook his head. "Wilcox says the governor was genuinely shocked and horrified when they brought the evidence against Metcalf to his attention. He fired Metcalf and has been cooperative with the police and state investigators."
"Even so," said Minnie, resisting the urge to loop her arm through Art's. "This big a scandal will no doubt be fodder for gossip if Stoneman runs for re-election."
"I don't think it'll be a huge factor." Art's intelligent eyes were thoughtful. "According to Mitch, there are already rumblings of displeasure with the governor's policies. It doesn't seem that he'll be allowed to run for re-election, but it won't have anything to do with this scandal. However, if they could get Wong off the street, that would be quite a coup and might go a long way toward restoring any damage to the governor's reputation."
"Are they going to be able to get Wong?"
"If they can get Metcalf to testify against him, they have a strong chance. Metcalf's presently in jail, and they're keeping him in solitary. Nobody's allowed near him. They're trying to keep him alive long enough to get to trial."
"Guards are a problem." Minnie inched a little closer to Art's side and wondered if he'd noticed her proximity.
"Huh?"
"You can keep him protected from the other prisoners, but even in solitary, he has to come into contact with guards. A guard can get paid off as easily as a prisoner can. Or someone can be paid to poison his food. I hope they're taking proper precautions."
"Is there a way to protect against every possibility?"
"I guess not. It would be good for San Francisco, and for the rest of California, though, if Mr. Wong were taken off the streets."
"You want to know something funny?"
"Sure, what?"
"They learned Mr. Wong's identity." Art's voice held a sad humor. "His real name is Daniel Faulk."
"That's such an ordinary name."
"His father was American. There's some paperwork to indicate his mother came over on a boat from China, but there's no solid record of her, and the information on his birth certificate is sketchy. Wilcox suspected the name Wong had been chosen to misdirect authorities, but he had no proof, which is probably why Wong was willing to kill for the photo William found."
"Do they know yet who killed William?"
Art shook his head. "With so many people from the organization disappearing, whoever killed him might have already been eliminated by his own people to prevent him from testifying. Wong, meanwhile, is trying to go underground. All the publicity and police scrutiny has made it hard to keep the opium dens profitable. If he slips away before they can bring him to justice, he'll move somewhere else and set up shop again. Maybe under a new name, or even a different drug. He's already proven how crafty he is. They need to get him."
Minnie frowned. "Okay, enough of that. I wanted to know about it, but I'd rather talk about something more pleasant now. How's the search for a new deputy going?"
Art frowned back and said, "I don't know. The city council approved the hire of one full-time and one part-time deputy, and the part-time is supposed to mostly be used to stay at the jail on those nights we have a prisoner. My problem is, I've got a whopping two applicants so far, and they're both far too young. Nobody in Larkspur seems interested in working in law enforcement. I don't get it. When I was a kid, that's all I wanted to do. Now kids think about growing up to become bankers and doctors and such. It's as if we live in an entirely different world now."
Minnie laughed and swatted his arm, "You're not ready for the grave yet, old man, so give it a rest. Are you going to hire the two who applied?"
"I placed the ad in Pocatello and Boise, but I'm going to extend it and place ads in Missoula and Denver and see if I get any responses from there before deciding."
"No ad in Salt Lake City?"
"Are you kidding me? That's where Jasper came from."
"You can't judge an entire city based on one man," she chided.
"While that's all good and well, he could have killed you, and whether it makes any sense to you or not, I haven't quite gotten over it yet." When Minnie started to speak, he said, "I know it's not the city's fault he ended up the way he did, but I can't seem to make myself place another ad there yet, and you're not going to change my mind about it."
"All right, Arty, but I do suggest you hurry up and get those other ads taken care of. You need some help. You can't be everywhere all the time. This town is growing, and it's too much for one man to handle on his own. If you're tired, you're more likely to make mistakes, and in your line of work, that can be fatal."
Art gave her a Cheshire grin. "I'm a little bit partial to the way you worry about me, darlin'."
Minnie rolled her eyes.
"So tell me about your serials."
"I'm still writing them, but I've started writing some mysteries instead of the usual romantic dramas. After my adventures with the San Francisco police, being hunted down all the way to Larkspur, and getting kidnapped, I decided I had enough real life experience to try something new."
"You changed the names to protect the innocent, yes?"
"Of course I did. And I didn't tell the stories exactly the way they happened. I let the events inspire me and then mixed a whole lot more danger in to make the readers want to come back for more each week."
"So now you're writing about murder, mayhem, and mystery, huh?"
"It's fun. I love the way writing makes me feel."
"Think you'll continue doing that after you get married again?"
Minnie's step faltered while her heart skipped ahead. "I'm not aware of any plans for remarriage, but since I wrote during my first marriage, I don't see why I wouldn't continue during my second should anyone ever deign to ask for my hand. What brought that up, Arty?" Minnie stole a look at him and batted her eyelashes.
"Maybe there's someone who's interested in asking you but is afraid you might not be ready because of everything you've been through and how difficult your marriage to William was."
Minnie, whose hand was now resting chastely in the curve of Art's elbow, leaned her head against his upper arm for the smallest moment before pulling back. "Arty, I think if someone were contemplating asking me such a question, they ought to feel comfortable asking me whether or not I was ready. Because, if someone were thinking of asking me something so profound, wouldn't we have to be good friends first?"
Art slowed their pace. Silence stretched between them until he spoke. "We're good friends, aren't we?"
"I think we're the best of friends," Minnie replied.
"Have you ever thought about whether or not you'd want to get remarried?"
Minnie nodded. "I've given it some thought."
Art let out a sigh. "And what have those thoughts been?"
Minnie hid her smile. "I think I would be quite amenable to it, but it would need to be with a suitable sort of man."
Art stepped in front of Minnie and faced her, stopping their progress and silently demanding her undivided attention. She couldn't pull her eyes away from his. "What makes a man suitable?"
"I think… hm. I could only consider it if the person asking the question were my absolute best friend."
"If I asked, would you say yes?"
"I believe I would." She kept her voice light and playful, but inside, her heart raced.
Art dropped to one knee. Holding out a ring, he asked, "Wilhelmina Abigail Smith Drake, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
****
Art had been infatuated with Minnie when they were both teens. These last few months, as he'd gotten to know the woman she'd become, that infatuation had paled next to the love growing to take its place. He'd been fingering the ring in his pocket all evening, and now that he'd finally asked, he couldn't breathe as he awaited her answer.
"Why yes, Arthur Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is Paulson, I believe I will. But I have to tell you, the honor is all mine."
Art stood up and said, "I'm going to kiss you now, in front of everyone who's watching, so you'd better get ready for some gossip."
"Bring it on," she whispered as Art leaned in to claim her mouth with his own. As he held Minnie in his arms and kissed her, he heard the tune his heart was beating out, and oddly enough, it sounded like the beat of a horse's hooves.
"Pardon me," said a familiar voice off to Art's right. He ignored it and continued kissing Minnie. "Pardon me," the voice said again, more insistent.
Art glanced up to see a familiar face. One of the Nez Perce men, the one who had done the translating, stood there. Art stared quizzically before noticing that the man was leading two horses, a fine Appaloosa stallion and a smaller, beautiful spotted mare.
Art reached out his hand to shake, and the man took it with a firm grasp. "We watched you save your woman. It is honorable to defend what is yours."
"Yes, it is. I need to thank you for your help that day. We may not have been able to save her if you hadn't intervened."
The man acknowledged Art's words with a nod. Then he said to Minnie, "A woman who is loved that much should have a worthy mount." He handed the lead rope for the mare to Art and said, "This is her horse. A small horse for a small woman."
Art took the lead but said, "I don't understand."
Smiling, the man said, "It does not matter if you understand. She chose you," he said, tilting his head to indicate the mare.
Still puzzled, Art watched as Minnie reached out a hand toward the visitor. "She chose him the way Mutiny did?"
That was when Art saw his cowboy hat in the man's hands. "Her fondness for him must be big," the man said. "We had to fight to get the hat away from her." He handed the hat to Minnie, and she hugged it to her chest. It had more than a few bite marks in it.
"A horse should never be separated from a fair master," the man said. "Just as a man should never be parted from his woman." He nodded to them, then circled around with his horse and began walking away, leading his own horse.
"Thank you!" Minnie called after him. Then, "What's her name?" He turned back, laughter dancing in his eyes. "We called her Stubborn Mule, but she has redeemed herself by choosing you. She is ready for a new name. You may choose it."
"Redemption. I choose Redemption!" Minnie's voice rang out after the man.
He offered a mysterious smile. "It suits you both." Then he mounted up and rode out of town.