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Chapter Thirteen
Spring rode into town the next day to talk to Whit about Zach Hammond’s visit and found the town abuzz. Dovie had been tied up and robbed by Avery Jarvis in the middle of the night. With him and Hazel and Swan being the only guests at the boardinghouse, she hadn’t been found until morning. By then, Jarvis and the others were long gone.
“This happened last night?” a shocked Spring asked Whit as they talked about it in his office.
Lips thinned, he nodded tersely. “Yes. Heath found her on the floor in the kitchen when he came in for breakfast. He said she was furious.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Just her pride. She said she woke up with Jarvis pointing a gun in her face. Made her open the strong box and took every dime. Thentied her up. They tied up her boy, too, but he’s okay.”
Spring was stunned and had so many questions, she didn’t know which one to ask first.
Whit, seated at his desk, handed her a flier. “That came through in the mail Odell delivered this morning. Probably the reason they hightailed it out of here.”
It was a Wanted poster featuring the drawn face of the man they’d known as Avery Jarvis. His real name was Walter Abner and he was wanted for embezzlement, robbery, and theft by authorities in New York, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis.
“Busy man,” Spring noted as she continued to read.
“Agreed. I sent that on to the sheriff’s office in Denver in case they’re headed there.”
Spring said, “Says here: known to be traveling with his daughter and an unknown man. Seem to be making their way west. So his talk of investing and mills and trees was just a flimflam?”
Whit shrugged. “I heard he managed to convince a few people to invest in the mill he supposedly wanted to build. Their money is probably long gone now.”
“Do you think he was tipped off about this poster coming to you?”
“I don’t know, but con men and grifters always say they can sense when it’s time to pull up stakes and move on, usually one step ahead of the law. Maybe that’s what happened here.”
Spring had so many questions her head was starting to spin. “So him telling Matt Ketchum the land sale was illegal was just a ploy to get access to the people here so he could rob them? Matt isn’t smart enough to have come up with something like this on his own.”
“Who knows. There’s also the unanswered question of who burned down Porter’s mill and why?”
Spring had no answers.
“How’s Garrett?” Whit asked.
“Healing.” And she told him about Zach Hammond’s visit.
“Good news. Not for Perry and Matt though. I’ll ride over to the Long Pine Saloon and talk to the bartender. Maybe he can give me names of some of the men there that night who can verify Zach’s story. It’s a start. Perry’s best bet is to turn himself in. He’ll be charged and arrested but if he testifies against Matt, the court will probably go easy on him.”
“Garrett told Zach the same thing. You’ll let me know what you find out in Long Pine?”
“Yes, and I’ll be talking to Zach, too.”
Satisfied, Spring left.
Over the next week Garrett gradually improved. The laudanum was discontinued. He slept less and ate more. Colt, having returned home, stopped by to evaluate his progress. Pleased with the wounds’ healing, he replaced the mummylike wrappings with small cotton bandages attached by plasters.
Spring was pleased by his progress, too. His strength steadily increased, and by his tenth day at her place, he was better able to tend to his own needs like bathing and getting dressed, but still lacked the natural ease of movement he’d had before being shot.
After dinner that evening, they were sitting on her back porch enjoying the quiet of the evening. “I think I should be able to head home in another four or five days.”
She turned his way. “Are you sure? You’ll have a two-day ride back to Laramie on horseback. Maybe take the stagecoach or hitch a ride with Odell on his wagon when he goes to pick up the mail.”
“That’s a thought. Both might be less taxing. I’ll think about it.”
Spring was pleased by his response. The lastthing he needed was to set himself back by doing more than he was physically capable of.
