Emerson refused to believe his brother would go to such lengths no matter what the situation was. Linc was impetuous, but he rarely lost his temper and even though of the three, Linc was the most reckless, he wasn’t a killer.
Rutgers Ridge was bustling with activity, several women stood in front of the seamstresses shop talking, large empty baskets in their arms indicating they’d stop at the mercantile next. A group of men hammered on a new structure that would become a boarding house, the sounds intermingling in the air with the piano music from the saloon just down from it.
The wind and horses hooves made a haze from the dust of the road. Emerson guided his steed to the stables and dismounted. Harry Brown, the blacksmith and stable owner, hollered for a young boy to come and take the horse dismissing Emerson with a wave as he returned to his chore of shoeing a horse.
His office was situated directly across from the saloon, which made things handy on rowdy nights. Not so great when he slept there. Behind the wooden structure with a front area and two cells, was his home. It was a small two-room house, which suited him just fine.
His brother Grant looked up from beside the front door, where he leaned against the wall. It didn’t bode well since he’d just seen him a few hours earlier. Grant straightened when Emerson approached him. “Thought I’d come and give you some news.”
They walked into the front room that served as sheriff’s office and Emerson hung his coat and hat on hooks beside the door. “Whatever it is can’t make my day any worse.”
“Pa’s decided to form a posse to go find Linc. He wants to bring him in to face the whole mess.”
He whirled on his brother, anger barely in check. “All he cares about is how this makes him look. Linc didn’t kill McKade. You know it, I know it, and so does Pa. Why won’t he leave well enough alone? The only reason we should be looking for him is to make sure he’s alive and well.
Grant nodded. “I hope that’s the reason for this Emerson. Maybe he just doesn’t want to admit it.”
Their pa, always the upstanding citizen, the man of honor, but lacking when it came to being a good father.
Emerson agreed. “There’s not much we can do, but wait. Linc won’t be found unless he lets it happen. That rascal is probably biding his time before returning. A Gentry can’t stay away from Rutgers Ridge and Linc isn’t any different.” Emerson blew out a breath and took in his brother’s grave expression. “I’m worried about him too. Would have thought he’d at least figured out a way to let us know he’s alive.”
Grant frowned. “He’ll turn up and when he does, I sure hope he can prove his innocence. Otherwise Pa will probably be at the front of the lynch mob to hang ’im.”
Emerson wondered. “I hope you’re wrong, brother. How about some whiskey? I’ve had a heck of a day.”
They crossed the street to the saloon just as the sun started to fall on the horizon. Grant looked to him. “What happened today?”
“I’ll tell you once I have a drink in my hand.” Emerson pushed the swinging doors open and headed straight for the long bar along the far wall.
“That bad?” Grant followed.
Chapter Two
“Oh Jane, whatever are we going to do?” Maddie Connor dropped her filthy cleaning cloth with a plop into dirty pail water. “I’m so tired. We’ve worked all day and this place doesn’t look anywhere closer to being habitable.” She pushed errant wisps of golden brown hair away from her face with her forearm, wondering if she looked as haggard as her sister.
Upon arriving at Rutgers Ridge, they were told the schoolhouse and cottage needed a bit of tidying up since it had been empty for about a year. An understatement of epic proportions. The walls were black with soot, the floor more dirt than wood and every single surface had inches of dust and grime.
Maddie’s fingernails were broken or chipped and the rest of her body protested any movement. Admittedly, part of the problem was their lack of experience in housework. Back in Virginia, they’d always maintained household help.
“What in the world is this?” Jane toed an unidentifiable object on the floor and when noise came from behind them, both screamed and ran in a circle, waving their arms.
“Ladies, is something amiss?” Tom Porterfield, the mercantile owner, poked his head in, his wide eyes scanning from them to take in the filthy rooms. “If something harmful is about, you should rush out now.”
With rounded eyes, he remained at the entrance, not moving to enter and held a box filled with items they’d purchased just that morning. Maddie realized they’d been optimistic ordering sundries in hopes of moving into their new home that week.
“I’m afraid many things are amiss Mr. Porterfield. However I do feel we’re making headway.” Maddie attempted a smile, and made sure to remain a good distance away from whatever lay on the floor while Jane once again poked at it.
No matter what happened, she didn’t want the townspeople to lose faith in their new schoolteacher and Jane needed all the support she could get right now.
“I have no idea what this is, but it’s been dead for a long time.” Jane went to the doorway while Maddie moved toward the opposite end of the room.
Collapsing onto a chair she studied her hands. They were reddened. Raw from scrubbing and her back ached almost as badly as her arms and legs.
This idea of Jane’s to move west had failed to gain appeal. First the miserable endless travel from their home in Virginia in a cramped and uncomfortable train and stage coach.
A week later, travel worn and too exhausted to formulate even a thought, they found themselves in a wretched small town where every man stared agog at them, since there were so few women about.
Now this.
A nasty little hovel the town provided for the new schoolteacher. Cottage they called it, as if the name would give the pitiful wooden structure some sort of appeal.
Jane had been excited at the idea of a free house included with the schoolteacher’s position. Never expected it to be a cottage, which had been abandoned for over a year. Maddie sincerely doubted it had been liveable even then.
The house had a modest sized front room with a kitchen against the far wall. There were two other rooms attached, which they planned to use as bedrooms, and a tiny garden in the back.
The place required much more work than they could hope to accomplish in the week they’d planned for. At this point Maddie expected they’d remain in the hotel for at least another two.
“Thank you again Mr. Porterfield,” Jane was saying. “I will come by tomorrow to purchase more cleaning supplies.”
“I took the liberty of gifting you with additional cloths and soap, expecting the cottage to be in sore need of cleaning. You may want to use brushes on those walls.” The shopkeeper managed to look embarrassed. “It’s coming along, is it?”
“I suppose it is. We appreciate the supplies and wise advice.” Jane mumbled the last three words and Maddie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. It was rare to see her normally calm sister annoyed.
A red-faced Mr. Porterfield handed Jane the box, tipped his hat and left. Jane peered at the items inside. “I’m not sure if we should leave these here or take them to the hotel.”
Maddie didn’t answer, her attention outside the window. The town’s marshal came into view. He walked down the walkway, his stride long and purposeful. He was tall, with dark brown hair, almost black. His long-lashed eyes were the darkest hue of brown as well. He wore a closely trimmed beard, which complemented his almost flawless features. Admittedly, she’d never seen a more handsome man in her life. Surely she’d also never met a more closed off one either.
Turning to her sister who stood holding the box as if at a loss as to where to put it, Maddie smiled. “I wouldn’t want something to crawl in it. I say we take it with us to the hotel.” When she looked out the window again, the marshal was gone. Probably inside the hotel for his evening meal.
Jane sighed and placed the box on a stool by the door. Her expre
ssion forlorn, she scanned the room. “I don’t know what to do next. It is overwhelming, isn’t it?” Her brow crinkled and she looked about to cry. She sniffed and wiped her forearm across her cheeks smearing her already dirty face.
It was always Jane who gave up first when facing a big task. It was a matter of settling her nerves to get her to move forward again. Maddie picked up the bucket and went to the door and poured the dirty water out. “We have a couple good hours of sunlight left, how about let’s tackle a small portion of this room together.”
She pointed. “Over there by the window, where our kitchen will be is as good a place to start as any.”
Jane looked across the room and nodded. Maddie pulled her forward by the hands. “If we both stick to one area, we can feel we accomplished something before leaving.”
Jane gave her a watery smile. “You are such a good sister to come all this way with me. My whims are not always the most practical, are they?”
“That’s a conversation for another time, sister. Come on.” Maddie handed Jane an empty bucket. “Let’s go fetch more water.”
They walked side by side to the nearby well. It was a warm spring day and the town was full of activity. People hurried to and fro to whatever task was at hand. Several carts overfilled with either stuffed sacks or farm produce ambled through the center of town.
A small boy chased a puppy and tripped. The little dog circled the kid barking happily, while the boy inspected his knee as tears flowed down his dirty face. A woman ran to him and scooped him up, kissing him in spite of all the grime. Maddie smiled at the sight and wondered if she’d ever know that kind of sentiment first hand.
Upon returning with the filled pails Jane was of a better mood. Her spirits so high, she whistled while they scrubbed the surfaces of walls and shelves. They’d leave the floor for last, which would be a bear to clean, since the more water splashed on it, the muddier it became.
Soon, the fruit of their concentrated labor showed, the once dull surfaces gleamed and Maddie could begin to see the potential of a warm home.
“Ladies, how do you fare?” They turned to find in the doorway a rotund man with his hat in one hand and the other grasping a bouquet of flowers. He lifted to his toes in an effort to seem taller as he was shorter than both of the sisters. “My name is Edgar Higgenbottom, the mayor of Rutgers Ridge. I have come to offer any assistance needed in settling our new schoolteacher.” His eyes twinkled at them.
Maddie held back a giggle when the man took a step forward and his boot squished into a puddle of muck.
“Please Mr. Higgenbottom, don’t come in, I will come outside to you.” Jane skirted the puddle and went to the doorway. Out of morbid curiosity Maddie followed.
“I apologize deeply for my absence at your arrival.” The man yelled more than said. “Marshal Gentry told me he assisted you to your accommodations.”
Her sister nodded at the man. “I am Jane Connor, this is my sister Madeline. We’ve only just arrived two days ago and required much rest after our travels. So do not fret, sir.”
Upon arriving, Marshal Gentry was one of the first people they’d met. The intimidatingly tall, broad chested and good-looking man had shown them to the hotel, brought their luggage for them and assured they were settled with adjoining rooms at the surprisingly lovely hotel.
“The cottage and schoolhouse are not in good order.” With that understatement, Mr. Higgenbottom peered around them toward the interior. “Seems you ladies have matters under control.” Once again he lifted to the balls of his feet and proffered the bouquet at Jane. “If you’d allow me to escort you both to dinner, I’d be obliged.”
“Thank you,” Jane took the flowers and attempted a smile, failing miserably. “Mr. Higgenbottom, I’m afraid my sister and I cannot possibly be presentable in time for dinner. We’re quite exhausted and plan to dine in our room.”
“Oh. Of course, I see.” He didn’t seem to see at all as his gaze was riveted in the vicinity of Jane’s bosom. Not because he was lecherous, but because of his inferior height challenge.
“If you’ll forgive us, we must return to our duties so that we can finish before we lose daylight.” Jane took a step back.
Mr. Higgenbottom released his right suspender and reached out to grasp her elbow. “Tomorrow then, I refuse to take no for an answer. It’s the least I can do for you and all the trouble we’ve put you through. Not being here to greet you and then all this.” He motioned to the interior. “As mayor I feel it is my duty to welcome not only the newest citizen of our fair town, but also someone who will be paid by our coffers. Welcome to Rutgers Ridge, may you be happy here.” He swept out a hand toward the road. And Maddie bit her lip, so as not to let out a giggle.
Jane visibly relaxed, probably finding the man just as entertaining. “My sister and I will be there without fail.”
“Grand. I’ll be present in the hotel lobby at six. Perhaps Mrs. Higgenbottom will accompany me.”
When he walked away Maddie rolled her eyes. “What a puffed up little man.” She mocked his stance. “As mayor it should be his duty to see about getting some help with all this mess.” She shook her head. “Did you notice how he attempted to look down his nose at you?”
“I feel dirtier from five minutes with him than I did after these last few hours cleaning this muddy hovel.” Jane looked at the flowers. “He was so clean. Did you see how shiny his shoes were?”
A man walked by and tripped when staring at them for too long. Jane shook her head. “It won’t be long before our first suitor appears.”
“I for one do not plan to allow any man of this town near me. They are uncivilized and without any kind of decorum.” Jane opened her mouth to interrupt, but Maddie shook her head and continued. “Sister, you have brought us to this horrid place and once you realize the folly of your ways, you will be the one to insist we leave. It’s unseemly how these brutes openly gawk and whistle when we pass as if we’re women of dubious honor. If there’s a gentleman among these…these barbarians, I’ll happily pull my skirts up and dance a jig around him.”
Jane groaned.
“Are you a good dancer, Miss Connor?” Maddie swirled to find Marshal Gentry, his arms across his broad chest and an eyebrow raised in challenge.
* * * *
“It’s horrible manners to eavesdrop on a conversation sir.” Madeline Connor scowled at him with hands on her hips. Emerson was taken aback. It was rare a man stood up to him and now this small woman did more than that, she openly challenged him with a tilt to her head.
Emerson lowered his arms and moved closer. “I happened upon your conversation as I brought these things.” He motioned to a broom and mop he’d carried over after stopping at the mercantile. “Mr. Porterfield felt you would need them.”
“Just the same, I don’t see why you’d comment.” The minx refused to back down, although she did look to her sister as if beseeching for her intervention. Madeline’s amber eyes went back to his and she huffed. Her hair, the color of autumn leaves, served as an angry halo about her heart shaped face. The tapping of her foot took his attention, which meant his eyes travelled from her beautiful face down past her full chest, over the swell of her hips before reaching the ground. She was quite fetching. “Marshal, you should apologize for interrupting our conversation.”
As marshal he’d faced many an individual who challenged his authority, yet Emerson had to say this was the first time he’d enjoyed the exchange. “On the contrary, I must defend the men of my town from insult Miss Connor. Your low opinion of my counterparts cannot go without someone to speak up for them.”
“I stand by my words.” Madeline turned and stalked into the small house.
Her sister’s lips curved as she met his gaze. Unlike Madeline, Jane was tall and lithe, her eyes a pale green and her hair a remarkable auburn brown. Although she was pretty enough, the woman, to him at least, looked the part of a schoolmarm. Although by her need for adventure, he guessed her to be more than she appeared. �
��I apologize for Maddie. She is high spirited and quite free with her opinions, I’m afraid.”
“No need,” Emerson replied and reached for the objects he’d brought. “I find it refreshing.”
“Oh.” Jane frowned for a bit then recovered. “She’s been through many changes recently and I can be held responsible for dragging her here after everything…” She stopped speaking, her eyes sliding toward the interior of the house. “It must be this place, now I’m the one speaking too freely. Hers is not my story to tell, but I hope that moving here will help her heal.”
“I understand.” He looked to the interior of the dirty dwelling. “I will get some boys to come help with the clean-up of the floor.” Jane Connor gave him a wide smile. “That would be much appreciated. Thank you.” Madeline turned to look at him not stopping in her cleaning.
Something in his stomach fluttered. “Have a good day ladies.”
Emerson wondered what Jane Connor had almost revealed as he went back to the jailhouse. What type of healing did Madeline Connor require? Was she ill? The woman did not seem physically unwell in the least. Quite the contrary.
Once inside he took in the surroundings and realized the place could use a good sweeping and dusting. He got to work, enjoying the distraction from any problems in town. His sojourn was short lived.
“Marshal, there’s a couple men just came into town who won’t let anyone in the mercantile. Mr. Porterfield looks about to burst, his face is so red ’cause I reckon he’s ’fraid.” Melvin Tuttle shifted nervously, his gaze moving from Emerson to the cells, where he was a frequent visitor. “I reckoned I should come and git ya.”
The street surrounding the mercantile was suspiciously vacant. Emerson noted several faces in the seamstresses’ window peering out, following his progress. Melvin stayed a good distance behind him.
Gentrys of Montana: Gentrys of Montana Page 9