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Dear Diary,
Sarah has said nothing to me on leaving Theodore but I know her too well. She thinks I am in error. Why, I cannot imagine. Were she in my position, I am certain she would do the same. There is nothing she or anyone else can say to convince me I am in the wrong. I have Ruth's train ticket. I took it from the side table where she left it and traded it for a ticket back to Valley Glen. It leaves tomorrow and I intend to be on it.
"Well?" Harriet asked her sister over the breakfast table. She arched her eyebrow and tapped her spoon upon the mug. John Bowman said nothing. He had made the wise decision not to come between sisters.
Sarah sighed and shot John a look. Harriet knew she would have preferred to discuss this in private but Harriet saw no harm in saying anything in front of John. He was a kind man and knew the truth of the situation just as well as Sarah did.
"I do not think it's wise to write anything to Carrie at the moment," Sarah finally replied.
"Why not?" Harriet demanded. "I want to figure this thing out. If Fred Connor has really learned the identity of Elizabeth Foster's killer, then I want to know."
The children, Emma and David, were watching her. They were seven and five, respectively, and eyed her with both curiosity and suspicion.
"Please calm yourself," Sarah said, her face coloring. She glanced at the children and Harriet felt a wave of embarrassment rush over her.
"I'm sorry," she said, lowering her voice.
John rose from his seat. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. He looked from one woman to the other, his hands brushing the sides of his pants. "Well," he said again. "I should be off."
He quickly kissed Sarah goodbye and headed to his bank. Harriet smiled to herself. John was a smart man to know when he should flee the scene before things became too heated. The children also left the room to go and play.
Once alone, Harriet helped Sarah to clear the table. She had yet to retrieve her things from Theodore's house but she planned to do so later today. Sarah had loaned her a dress for this afternoon. Harriet's biggest regret of the whole affair was that she no longer felt comfortable turning in her article for The Modern Woman. She had wished to show female readers that becoming a mail order bride, though not always easy, could be highly rewarding. That despite the trials they might face, the end result would be happiness. If she were to turn in such an article now, she would be a hypocrite.
"If you do not care to tell me how to reach Carrie," Harriet said, "then I shall simply have to figure it out on my own."
Sarah scoffed. "I only wish to protect both of my sisters." Harriet's heart softened slightly. Sarah was the eldest of the Ackerman girls. She had raised Carrie and Harriet from childhood after their parents' deaths.
"I have no intention of hurting Carrie," Harriet said. "I only wish two things. To tell her of Theodore—Judge Foster's—plan to lure her and Fred from hiding by using me as bait. And two, to ask her the name of the man who murdered Theodore's wife."
"What good will it do if you know it? The judge will not believe you, and you cannot capture a murderer yourself."
"True," Harriet said," but perhaps I might appeal to the sheriff. There are other judges, as well. I might speak with one of them."
Sarah looked at her with skepticism. "I don't know."
"My husband has betrayed me. My life is in tatters. How can you deny me this?"
Sarah's lips pressed tightly together. Harriet rounded her shoulders back. "Is there something you wish to say to me?" Harriet asked her.
Sarah drew in a breath. Issie slept peacefully in the corner. David and Emma were still outside playing.
"I do not know that I agree with your assessment of the judge," Sarah finally said, the words coming quickly, as if she wished to spit them out before she could change her mind.
"I see. Might I inquire as to why? It seems odd to me that you would side with a man who wants to see our youngest sister in jail."
Sarah shook her head. "It is not Carrie that he is after, though. Not truly." She shook her head. "Let us sit on the porch and speak; I would prefer to be within sight of the children."
Harriet acquiesced and took Issie with her out onto the Bowmans’ wide, wraparound porch. David and Emma continued chasing each other around the lawn.
Sarah poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Harriet. She took it and sipped. She would say nothing else until her sister explained herself.
"After Joseph died," Sarah began, licking her lips, "I had never seen such pain in your eyes. Not even when the fire took Mother and Father."
The memory of her beloved husband's illness made her eyes water.
"You see," Sarah said, "even now it is difficult for you to speak of."
Harriet wiped a tear from her eye.
"I don't see what this has to do with me and Theodore."
"You at least had time before the smallpox took him. Time to say goodbye. Theodore never had that. His wife was alive one minute and dead the next. There were no goodbyes."
Harriet's heart thumped in her chest. Her vision blurred. She had never thought of it in quite those terms before. It made her feel sorry for Theodore. How would she have felt if she hadn't received those last few precious moments with Joseph?
"Still," Harriet said, her mind returning to the lies he'd told her, "that does not excuse his actions. Not completely. He lied to me. He wanted to use me."
"That is true..." Sarah said softly.
Harriet's agitation with her sister was growing. "I can hear it in your voice," she snapped. "You still take his side. What else can there be to excuse his behavior that I am not seeing?"
"You may not remember it very clearly," Sarah said, "but when Joseph died and you were left alone, you could hardly speak, let alone care for Issie. You moved back in with us and we gladly took on the chores for you but imagine if we had not been there. You barely managed to carry on, even with me, Carrie, Henry, and Tom all there to support you. Who did the judge have for support? For guidance?"
"His precious Ruth," Harriet spat.
Sarah laughed. "She is not precious to him. From what you've told me, she was his only option. There is quite a difference between desire and desperation."
Harriet averted her eyes. "I suppose." She folded her arms across her chest. "All right, I take your points but how can I trust him again?"
Sarah thought a minute and replied, "Your heart feels something for him, does it not?"
Harriet blushed. "I... thought it did."
Sarah nodded. "Then listen to it. Do not deny your own heart. If Joseph had been murdered instead of taken ill, would anything stop you from seeking out his killer?"
"No," Harriet admitted.
"I am not saying that Judge Foster is right, for I know him to be in the wrong about Fred, but he truly believes Fred to be his wife's murderer."
A new thought occurred to Harriet. All this time, she had been trying to convince the judge that Fred Connor was innocent. Perhaps it was too much to take all at once. Perhaps she would have done better if she had merely suggested he keep an open mind.
"If you still wish it," Sarah said, "we will go and see Pearl Connor. She is Fred's mother, and she can get a message to him."
"How?"
"Bia will carry it."
"I was with Bia just recently. If she could deliver a message, why must I see Pearl?"
"After Fred escaped, Judge Foster would not stop watching me. He was certain I would get a message to Carrie. He was right, of course, but I couldn't risk him learning how it was done. He did not watch Fred's mother quite as closely. She was very frail at the time. She could hardly walk. He assumed I would be the one to send the messages. But whenever I would visit with Pearl, I would leave my message with her. We put them in one of her flower boxes. Bia would go by in the middle of the night whenever she was here and collect them."
"How clever," Harriet said.
"There is something more I must tell you but you must promise not to tell Judge Foster until the time is right."
"What is it?"
"Promise first."
"How can I promise when I do not know what I'm promising to."
Sarah sighed. "Just do it."
"All right. I promise."
She took a deep breath. "The name of the man Fred Connor believes killed the judge's wife is Abel Kent. He lives here in Helena. He was one of the men who robbed the stagecoach Carrie and Judge Foster were on together."
Harriet's mouth dropped open. "I knew there had been several men involved in that robbery but I did not realize Abel was one of them. I have seen him here in Helena. He accosted me when I first arrived at the station from Valley Glen."
"Abel is a known thief and a drunk."
"You've known this whole time that he is the murderer?"
"No." She shook her head. "Pearl told me last I saw her, just a few days ago. Fred wrote to her and Bia brought the letter."
Harriet frowned. "Perhaps I should wait before writing to Carrie, after all. If I write to her now, I might inadvertently draw her out. I will wait a few days and see how I feel."
"In a few days, you will be back in Valley Glen, will you not?" Sarah asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Perhaps I should wait on that as well."
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