Chapter Fourteen
IZZY TALKED AS MUCHas she could about Edie, the plants, and the boardinghouse guests as they walked along the railroad tracks south of town. What she was dying to know was whether Hale had given any thought to helping Papa and her brothers.
And maybe a little part of her hoped he might try to kiss her again.
“How was your outing today?” she asked, hoping he might finally reveal his thoughts.
“It was helpful,” he said.
Izzy glanced toward him. He’d spoken carefully, as if he were choosing each word for a reason. “Why was that?”
He stopped beside the tracks and turned to face her. “I paid a visit to Sheriff Wright.”
Izzy laid a hand on her stomach, wishing she hadn’t eaten so much of Tansy’s chicken pie. Why would he go to the sheriff? Unless he’d seen that poster and suspected she was . . . well, who she was.
Hale squinted into the distance, past where the railroad tracks disappeared into the horizon. “I said nothing to indicate it had to do with you, but I needed to find out if there was any more information you didn’t tell me.”
“I told you everything I know. About Papa and my brothers,” she added quickly.
“I was afraid there were things you didn’t know, and I wanted to find out what those could be.”
Despite the warmth of the day, Izzy shivered. “What do you mean?”
He looked at her again, his lips pressed into a line. “First, would you care to enlighten me about your true surname?”
Isabella’s heart sank. It had been essential when she’d written those letters, but she’d never corrected it. And now that her last name was Darby, she’d almost forgotten that she hadn’t been honest with him about it. “Sutcliffe. I wasn’t certain how it would look if I’d written to you under my real name.”
He nodded, seemingly satisfied that she was telling the truth. “There’s a poster in the sheriff’s office, indicating one man escaped.”
She had the feeling he wanted to say more, but he remained silent, waiting for her response. What was she to tell him? That the authorities in Roebuck mistook her for a man? That they assumed she did more than hold the horses and watch for unwanted attention? If she admitted to that, Hale might feel he had to tell the sheriff. And if she were arrested, there would be no one left to help the others. The desperation she felt at the very thought of it almost cut off the air in her throat.
“I only have two brothers,” she said. “Carter and Henry. As far as I know, both are in prison.” It was the truth, and yet she felt miserable saying it. It was the only way to help them, she told herself.
Hale watched her a moment, as if he were trying to decide whether or not to believe her. He crossed his arms, and the lowering sun created a sort of glow around him. Izzy had to look right at him or be blinded.
“Sheriff Wright received a letter with this poster. It went into some detail, indicating one of the men confessed to the locations where the stolen money was hidden.”
“It did?” That made no sense at all. “Papa gave that money away. We only had what I took from the cabin. It was a small amount to purchase food for ourselves, and the remainder was to be distributed once we left that area.”
Hale was silent a moment. “What about the bank?”
Izzy searched her memory but couldn’t remember Papa ever mentioning a bank. Perhaps Hale was asking something else entirely. “Papa never would have robbed a bank.”
Hale sighed, looking off into the distance again. Izzy was just about to ask him what he meant when he turned back toward her.
“How did your father give away all of this money he and your brothers took?”
“He’d usually bring it to a town or two and look for people who needed it. It took him days—sometimes a week—to find the right people.” And then he’d come home, exhausted but with a smile on his face. It assuaged every sliver of guilt Izzy felt when she was holding the reins of their horses, waiting for them to emerge loaded down with bags filled with dollars and coins. When she thought of the people they were helping, it felt as if they were doing the right thing.
“Did you go with him?”
