Chapter 12

12

It echoed in Maeve's ears—as well as in her heart and soul—that Ginny's case was going to change the world. And Maeve would be here to witness it.

They had to put an end to the law allowing a husband to commit his wife to an insane asylum. As it was now, the law decreed that a judge and a doctor needed to declare a person insane before they could be locked up—with the exception of wives. If a husband declared his wife to be insane, no law prevented him from having her locked away. At least that was the case in Chicago. In Wyoming Territory, where women had more rights than in any other place in the country, they would plead for a judge to hear Ginny's case and rule that she was indeed sane. Her husband couldn't take away all her rights as an American citizen without a ruling in a court of law.

Of course, it had helped that Kat and Sebastian were in Cheyenne. They'd been able to write letters and make arrangements. Ginny had the moral support of a pair of highly respected local citizens, who could find a lawyer to represent Ginny at the trial. Kat and Sebastian had hired a doctor to examine Ginny. The doctor would act as a witness, giving his expert opinion in court about her sanity.

It was all so infuriating. A person should be assumed to be sane. If someone claimed she was not, they should have to prove it. Instead, because of the cruelty and injustice of the law, it was the opposite.

But maybe not after they had the trial. Maybe it was just the first time, and maybe it was just in a small way, but this trial could change the world. And it would set Ginny free to live her life without fear. Then, once free, she wanted to help other people who'd been committed to an asylum unfairly.

Seven days they'd been waiting in bustling Cheyenne. In that time, Beth had insisted they all carry guns on them, Maeve included. She had something Dakota scoffed at and called a "peashooter," which she had in a holster strapped around her ankle. She'd even taken some shooting lessons.

Ginny kept a gun in her reticule, but she was so tied up in knots that she could barely think. The whole idea had been to get their case heard and ruled on without Thaddeus Rutledge finding out about it. But he had men everywhere, and the days seemed to be passing so slowly.

The waiting was nearly over, however. Word had come that a justice of the peace was on his way to rule over the trial. Maeve hoped they'd be done and out of here very soon. She stepped out of the hotel and looked around. The sun was shining in Cheyenne, a beautiful day in late September. Maeve had on her green dress, and she always felt good when she wore it.

New buildings were going up everywhere. The state representatives were in town for the territorial session. There was a strong sense of growth in town, the feeling of a bright future ahead for everyone. Rumors of a train spur spreading out from the main Transcontinental line had been circulating among the townsfolk, although Ginny said all that talk would end with Jay Cooke's bankruptcy.

Maeve had a hard time believing that one man's financial woes could harm a whole country. But Ginny seemed to know such things, and Maeve had to admit she didn't.

It was Monday morning. As she studied the town, staring in wonder at all the activity around her, a light breeze that hinted at the approach of fall mussed her tightly bound hair just enough to let a few of her corkscrew curls free.

People rushed along in wagons and on horseback. Mothers walked their children to school with quiet chatter, their footsteps echoing off the boardwalks that lined the businesses along the street. A bell rang, out of sight but not far away, and the children picked up their pace and ran toward the sound, leaving their mothers behind. Wagons and horses stood idle where they'd been tied to hitching posts.

Someone had told her more than two thousand people lived in Cheyenne. Maeve had passed through some big cities on her way west. They'd first come ashore in America in New York City, and the size of it had overwhelmed her. Da had headed straight for a livery and purchased a wagon. Before long they'd put all the hectic activity behind them.

It wasn't her only look at a city. They'd left Ireland from Dublin, the port nearest their home, and Dublin teemed with people. So many of them on the same trek away from the hunger of their homeland.

From New York they'd trundled their way to bustling St. Louis and from there to Independence, Missouri. There Da had outfitted their two covered wagons and bought the oxen and supplies they'd need to head west on the wagon train. Because Da had pushed so hard, they'd been in the first wagon train in the spring. The wilderness had shocked her with its contrast to New York City and St. Louis. Maeve had felt so alone in their little caravan west.

But the crowds that had pressed against Maeve during her long journey here hadn't done so for long because she and her family were always traveling on. Now, though, they'd finally stopped. And it felt good to settle on a homestead, in a new land, and to stay in one spot.

Cheyenne amazed her. Over two thousand people, all living and working together, somehow managing to get along. Within sight of their hotel, she saw a general store, a dry-goods store, a carpenter shop, a land office, a post office, a blacksmith shop, a store boasting of leather goods right beside a dress shop with a ready-made dress hanging in the front window. It might have been that very shop where Beth had bought her pretty new dress.

Customers bustled in and out of the shops, calling out greetings to friends, waving with friendliness to those who passed them. Beyond everything already built, there was construction in progress everywhere and talk of a courthouse and a city hall being added to the splendid city.

Maeve was curious about it all. She'd like to walk the streets of Cheyenne and act as if she had somewhere to go and was far too rushed to pay attention to the other folks jostling and sweeping past. She'd like to wander slowly by the windows displayed with goods, even go inside and touch fine fabric and smell spices and leather and perfume.

While she enjoyed all this life and activity, at the same time she itched from the delay in the trial. She missed her quiet life back in Idaho. She wasn't sure how those two went together. But when she thought of back home, she remembered her ma remarrying and didn't want to go back.

Was it already over with? Would Maeve return home to find Bruce living in her house? And find Donal, who was younger than Maeve, married and settled into adult life?

Maybe she should stay right here in Cheyenne. She wasn't looking forward to returning home only to find her life so completely changed. Here in Wyoming, she could find a job. Perhaps Kat could help her with that.

Maeve had never had much schooling, and her reading and arithmetic skills were minimal, which meant she couldn't be a teacher. Still, there had to be something she could do to support herself. Except she missed her family and wanted to go home. Except she'd find her ma married and find her home invaded.

Shaking her head as if to clear her jumbled thoughts, she looked over her shoulder just as someone emerged from the hotel. They'd been informed that the substitute judge would arrive today on the train, and then they'd finally have the trial. Maeve had heard a train come through just a bit ago and had hoped it was the one carrying the judge. Yet it had come from the east, and the judge was said to be coming from the west.

As Mr. Whitmer served them breakfast, he told them the westbound train had pulled over. Cheyenne was a town equipped with a spur track. The train coming from the west had passed any town with a spur line, so it had right of way this time.

Maeve sent up a prayer of gratitude that the judge would arrive soon. The trial would be held, Ginny's case settled, all without Thaddeus Rutledge getting here to try to stop the trial.

They'd gone to church yesterday after finding out the judge would arrive on Monday. Maeve had prayed fervently for today, as she was sure they all had. She prayed without ceasing. Today they'd fix Ginny's problems and head back to Idaho.

And Maeve would face up to the changes she'd find back home. As she marveled at the frantic pace of Cheyenne and prayed for God to hold them with His protective arms, Ginny came to the door of the hotel and saw Maeve already outside.

"As you know, the judge is to arrive in town real soon," Ginny said from inside. "When the menfolk are done eating, we'll go down and see if my case can get on the docket—if not today, then as soon as possible."

Maeve nodded and leaned against the outside wall of the hotel, enjoying the sunshine. "For your sake, I hope we can have the trial today. Get this over with."

An enclosed buggy rolled up to the hotel, stopping right in front of Maeve and Ginny. Thaddeus Rutledge erupted from the coach and rushed at Maeve. "You there. You're the one I saw with Beth." Then, charging up the steps of the hotel, his eyes landed on Ginny. He reached through the open door with cruel victory etched on his face. "I've got you now." He grabbed her arm.

"Thaddeus, no!" Ginny screamed.

Thaddeus dragged her down the steps toward the buggy. With none of the menfolk outside yet, Maeve threw herself at Rutledge.

"Get your hands off her!" Maeve hit him with all of her strength.

Rutledge, roaring threats, went down.

Maeve jumped on top of the man and punched him squarely in the nose. "Run, Ginny!"

Thaddeus Rutledge had a viselike grip on Ginny, who had tumbled to the ground along with them. She rolled aside and shouted, "Oscar, Jake, Dakota, help!"

Straddling Rutledge, Maeve punched him again and again. He caught her right hand, but he was holding Ginny with his left, so Maeve could keep up her pounding. She struck his chin, his ear, his nose again. Swinging with everything she had. When she hit his nose a third time, she heard a satisfying crunch.

Maeve shouted for Ginny to run while Maeve held him down, but he wouldn't let her go. Finally wrenching herself free, Ginny leapt to her feet and kicked her husband in the head, then the side, trying her best to stop him from hurting Maeve.

"Run, Ginny!" Maeve screamed. "He doesn't want me—he wants you ."

"No, I'm not letting him hurt any of us again." Ginny kicked Rutledge in the leg, hard.

His roars of anger turned to a cry of pain. He heaved Maeve off him and scrambled away, clutching his leg.

Then the buggy driver entered the fray.

"Get her, Sykes! Get my wife."

The driver wrapped his arms around Ginny and dragged her toward the buggy.

Jake stormed out of the hotel dining room, Beth right behind them. Both had a child in their arms. Oscar was next, holding baby Lydia. These were not people who could offer much help.

Then Dakota came out. He didn't have a baby.

He roared, "Sheriff! Get out here!"

Ginny was almost inside the buggy when Dakota dove off the boardwalk and tackled the driver called Sykes. Both of them went down in a heap. Ginny, holding on to the buggy to keep herself from being taken, stayed upright.

Dakota slammed a fist into Sykes's face. Ginny broke free of the fracas and dashed away toward Beth.

Maeve staggered to her feet as Dakota and Sykes rolled toward her and knocked her down again.

A man wearing a silver star came running down the boardwalk.

"She's my wife ," Rutledge protested. "I have a right to take her home with me." Still clutching his leg, he struggled to get to his feet.

Sykes, a rough-looking customer wearing two guns, tossed Dakota aside and advanced on Ginny. Oscar caught her arm and tucked her behind him.

"Get inside the hotel, Ginny." Dakota lunged to his feet and dodged in front of Sykes.

Thaddeus limped toward Ginny while Sykes became occupied fighting off Dakota, who wasted no time punching Sykes in the face again, then again. He went down hard and knocked into Rutledge, who fell over.

Sykes clawed for his gun. Dakota reached out fast as a striking snake and yanked both of his six-guns away and tossed them under the boardwalk.

Oscar thrust Lydia into Beth's arms, moved Ginny so she was behind Jake, then rushed down the steps with a look of near-savage glee. Rutledge had just regained his feet. Oscar plowed a fist into Rutledge's belly and knocked him down.

Maeve grabbed Ginny and towed her into the hotel.

Mr. Whitmer set down his armload of tablecloths and came to Ginny, whose torn sleeve was dangling around her wrist, her hair twisted into dusty knots around her shoulders. "What's going on?" he asked.

"That man, the older one," Ginny said and pointed out the window. "He's my husband. He tried to kidnap me right off the streets of Cheyenne. I told you I've had legal trouble, and I wanted a trial to solve it. Well, the legal trouble is that man and his abuse of me."

"Sit down right there." Mr. Whitmer pointed to a table that still had plates of food on it, pretty clearly abandoned by Oscar, Jake, Beth, and Dakota.

Ginny, shaking, said, "He'll take me with him. No judge can stop him."

Maeve took both her arms and turned her to look out the large front windows. They watched the sheriff put shackles on Sykes while Dakota hauled Rutledge to his feet by the back of his neck. Oscar slugged Rutledge one more time, even though the fight was clearly over.

Dakota stepped between Oscar and Rutledge. He was saying the time for punching was over. At least for now.

Maeve noticed that Dakota hadn't been any too quick about stopping Oscar.

The whole group headed for the jailhouse.

"This is Wyoming, ma'am," Whitmer said. "Here, no man touches a woman in violence and claims it as his right. Possibly for the first time ever, a wife has as many rights as her husband. You've come to the best place in the country to solve your problems."

Ginny stood and burst out crying. "Can that be true?"

Watching her husband being hauled off to jail, she said to Maeve, "Is it possible?" Then more quietly, her voice breaking, she added, "I still could be proved insane. And now Thaddeus is here to tell his lies and twist things to his advantage. He is a powerful man with..." Ginny fell silent as her eyes darted to a third man, who had just emerged from the buggy. Her face went white, and Maeve caught her before she collapsed.

Maeve eased her into a chair. "What is it, Ginny?"

"That man is one of the most respected doctors in the country when it comes to matters of insanity and caring for people who are proclaimed to be mad."

Maeve looked at the man. He was small of stature, his nose very firmly in the air as he followed Rutledge and Sykes toward the jail. Determination in every step. "Who is he?"

"Dr. Maynard Horecroft," Ginny answered. "He kept me locked up for three years, and he'll testify that I am furiously mad. Add his testimony to Thaddeus's money, and I'm doomed." She bowed her head and wept.