Ignition: Day 6

Word Count: 36,010

Summary of Events:

Mrs. Carrigan brought Rebekka a hairbrush, ribbons, and pins, and helped her brush the tangles that had accumulated out of her hair. Keiller was quite impressed by the transformation having brushed and styled hair caused on Rebekka, and wondered if he shouldn't grant Mrs. Carrigan permission to bring her a clean dress — permission he'd told Mrs. Carrigan she didn't have. Several nights later, Keiller was woken by a nightmare that his deceased mother was upset at him for his treatment of Rebekka, which he didn't think was all that bad, considering that she was guilty of crimes . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

But what were the charges? What had she done?

Keiller didn’t recall what he’d called them when he’d filed them. He couldn’t even remember filing them. Had he even filed them?

The thought bothered Keiller like he was lying on a sharp rock. Sitting up, he felt around for his jeans and pulled them on, then he felt for the lantern, which was usually on his bedside table because even when Cyril was up late he always seemed to prefer to put it there, but found his bedside table was empty. Maybe Cyril had needed to make a late-night trip to the outhouse, it was too dark for Cyril to still be out somewhere.

Keiller moved carefully through the dark to the door, shuffled his feet across the sitting room to ensure that he didn’t trip over anything, and then made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

Finding the second lantern which usually ended up remaining in the kitchen, Keiller lit it and looked around before heading into the office, where he unlocked the drawer that contained all the important files, including all the pending charges he might have for whenever the judge came to town — and at last report his coming was delayed because of a lengthy trial in Blue Tent.

Opening the file, Keiller’s shoulders dropped. He hadn’t filed any charges. Sure the judge wasn’t coming tomorrow or anything, but he couldn’t believe that he’d been sitting around doing nothing for this long and had completely forgotten to file charges against the prisoner, even if he didn’t have her name.

Or had he been meaning to get her name for the charges, and completely neglected to think that he could fill out the forms without her name and add it in later? Keiller had no idea, but he was sorely disappointed in himself, to say the very least.

Of course, not all the charges were his to file, as Old Zach had been the one on whom she’d trespassed — and had also been hit in the face by a door she’d flung open — thus he would need to decide if he was pressing charges, and notify Keiller if he was doing so, which he hadn’t yet done.

Keiller wondered why Old Zach hadn’t come by yet. He knew Old Zach came into town to drink at Martell’s Saloon once a week, and it’d been just more than a week since he’d arrested the prisoner. Surely Old Zach would’ve stopped by.

Unless his griping about Old Zach using the back door had prompted him to not bother. Maybe — once Dr. Carrigan gave him approval to ride again, as even though the sutures had now been removed, Dr. Carrigan had said he didn’t want Keiller riding for at least another week — he’d have to find his way out to Old Zach’s place and ask.

For the time being, though, he ought to get back to bed. As much as he hadn’t filed charges, it wasn’t important enough to do now.