Adam sat up. Was she telling the truth? "When did you see his face?"
"When we fell on the floor, after you were hit. I pulled off his bandanna, trying to get up."
"You got a good look?" His eyes narrowed. "You could identify him if you saw him again?"
"In an instant. I'll never forget those eyes."
Adam's gaze fell to the burning campfire. He hadn't counted on this. Why did it have to be Jessica? It could have been anyone on that train. Fate was a funny thing, his mother had always said. Life was in the stars, already mapped out before we were ever born. He looked at Jessica standing there in the darkness watching him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Was Jessica Landon his fate?
"You think you could describe him for a newspaper artist. If we could get a sketch—"
"I could, but I won't."
"You could be fined for withholding information—jailed."
Jessica laid down, rested her head on her saddle, and pulled her blanket over her shoulders. She knew she had him. She had seen the look of defeat in his eyes. "So jail me, Adam. That, or shut up so I can get some sleep."
Jessica woke before dawn to find Adam saddling Zeus. She scrambled up. "Time to move already?"
He ignored her.
Scratching her head sleepily, Jessica began to pack up camp. After refilling her water can, she saddled Hera. By the time she mounted, Adam had been waiting ten minutes on her. The moment she hit the saddle he rode off, backtracking the way she'd come.
All morning Jessica rode beside Adam, keeping up, but just barely. They rode into Sharpston at noon.
"You keep your mouth shut, you understand me?" Adam told her. He was in a black mood, his mouth twisted in a scowl.
"Does this mean we're going to find this man together?"
He rode up to a saloon and dismounted. "There's a general store down the street. Get some provisions. A saddlebag, another canteen, bacon, beans, a good knife." He glanced at her. Her skirt had fallen back to expose all of her calf and a good deal of her shapely thigh. "And some decent clothes," he amended gruffly.
"Decent clothes?" She looked down at her leather riding skirt and cotton blouse thinking she'd dressed quite sensibly.
"You've got to wear something under that skirt besides those damned long legs of yours."
Her cheeks colored as she straightened her skirt as best she could. She'd never discussed her underclothing with a man and certainly not a man like Adam. "It's too hot for bloomers."
"Just do as I say. It might keep you from a spider bite. Besides you'll need something to wear crossing the rivers."
"Crossing rivers?" She arched a feathery eyebrow. "How far do you think we'll have to go?"
He tied his Appaloosa securely to the hitching post. "Maybe we'll find him right here in town, but probably not. I don't know how far we'll have to go, but my opinion is that you may be in for a long haul, Jessica."
She watched him walk through the saloon doors. "Hell and fire, Hera, that man's irritable!" She directed the mare up the street.
The storekeeper of McCall's General Store and Apothecary was a short man with a handlebar mustache that seemed to reach to his pointy ears. When Jessica entered the store, he popped off a stool and came around the counter offering his hand.
"Afternoon, miss. Can I help you?"
Jessica stared at the snakes in the cages lined up on the counter with the jars of horehound candy. A rattlesnake hissed at her, shaking its tail in a hollow, deathly rattle.
"Oh, don't mind them. That's my boys."
"Your boys?" She swallowed. She had heard of rattlesnakes, but this was the first she'd ever seen.
"My boys. That's Matthew"—he indicated the rattler—"Mark, Luke, and John. Had 'em for years. Make fine pets. Would you care to get a better look? I could take one out." He reached for the latch on Luke's cage.
"No, no." Jessica put up her hands. "I'm kind of in a hurry. If you could just help me make a few purchases."
"Where you headed?"
She eyed the snake cages nervously. "I'm not sure. I'm riding with Adam Sern. We're going after the Black Bandit and his men."
The storekeeper gave a low whistle. "Sern, taking a lady? Damned if I ain't heard it all now. You his wife?"
Jessica laughed. "Not hardly. The Black Bandit killed my brother and I intend to see justice served." She saw no need to tell him she intended to dole out the justice.
He twirled one of the handlebars on his mustache studying her intently. "You must be one hell of a lady to ride with that half-breed. They say he ain't got no heart. Say he left it in Ca-na-dy. That's where he's from you know."
"Look, Mr. McCall, Sern's waiting on me, so if you could just sell me a saddlebag and few odds and ends, I'll be on my way."
"That I can do, but the name's not McCall." He rummaged around in a wooden crate near the door.
"The sign out front says McCall. You're not the owner?" She glanced about the one-room store. It was poorly stocked and the roof leaked. There were several buckets placed strategically around the room to catch any summer rain.
"I'm the owner, but my name's Nelson. I won this store off'en McCall. Played three nights straight. My full house took his store, his horse, his daughter, and a worthless mine down Ogden way."
"His daughter?" Jessica watched the man cut a hunk of cured bacon.
"Lucretia." He gave nod. "Sweet little thing. She weren't but thirteen, but she made a fine wife. We got three sons, healthy as mules."
"What happened to McCall?"
"Darned if I know. Rode out of here on a burro. That was three years ago and we ain't seen him since." He wrapped the bacon in newspaper. "How 'bout a little cornmeal?"
"Whatever you think we'll need. But I can only take what I can carry in those saddlebags."
The cow bell on the door rang, and Jessica turned to see who was coming into the store. It was Adam. She gave a little smile. "Find anything out?"
"Aren't you done yet?"
Nelson quickly stuffed several paper-wrapped items into the new leather saddlebag. "Just about got her set. Having a sale on provision packs. Nice skinnin' knife, canteen, needle and thread, laudanum, fry pan, you name it and she's got it."
Adam glanced at Jessica. "You get some drawers?"
Her cheeks colored. "Mr. Nelson. Have you got something in the way of ladies' clothing?"
"Not much. Go on through the back curtain and let my wife show you what's back there. We don't get much call for ladies' clothes. The whores are the only ones in town that buys much." The storekeeper looked over his shoulder. "Lucretia," he shouted. "Lucretia!"
A moment later a young girl stepped shyly from behind the curtain in the back doorway. "Wayne?" She spoke slowly, drawling out the sound of each letter.
"Lucretia, honey, take this lady back and see what you can do for her about some drawers."
"Don't know that we got any drawers, Wayne," the girl went on, slowly.
Impatiently, Adam shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
Nelson looked up at Adam's face and waved at his wife. "Just take her on back. These folks got to get goin'!"
Jessica followed the girl into the back room.
"Like I said," Lucretia took a breath as if worn out from talking, "we ain't got much in the way of ladies' clothes."
"Just show me what you have. I need bloomers. I've got cotton drawers." Jessica was embarrassed by the whole situation. She just wanted to get out of the store and hear if Adam had found Elmo Shine.
"Right there, that's all we got," the girl answered.
Jessica picked among the pile. There was an old-fashioned corset with bone insets and faded pink ribbons. She tossed it aside. Next she came to a short wool jacket trimmed in velvet. If it fit, it would help keep her warm on a cold night, even if it would look a little silly. She dropped it near the door. She then discarded two pairs of silk stockings, a yellow poke bonnet—she preferred her new black wide-brimmed hat made much like Adam's. At the bo
ttom of the pile was a pair of purple satin bloomers adorned in green scalloped lace. "This is all you've got?"
Lucretia looked at her sympathetically and pushed back a lock of white blond hair. The young girl was breathtakingly beautiful, but barely more than a child. "One of the girls over to the saloon ordered 'em, then she rode out with a gambler 'fore they come in."
Jessica held up the bloomers. They would fit, but they weren't exactly what she had in mind. With a groan, she stepped into them and hiked them up.
"They look right nice," Lucretia said in her dog-slow manner. "Darn if I shouldn't order me a pair."
"They're whore's bloomers," Jessica complained.
"But they're right purty."
"Jessica!" Adam called from the front room. "Let's move. This isn't a social visit."
Jessica snatched up the jacket and came through the curtain. "I'm ready. I just have to pay Mr. Nelson."
Adam's dark eyes followed her movement. "He's paid. You got something on under that skirt?"
She picked up her saddlebags. "Yeah, now let's go."
"Let me see."
She looked up at Adam in disbelief. Color flooded her cheeks. "What?"
"I said, let me see."
"Adam!"
"You want to ride with me? You come prepared. Now hitch up your skirt and let me see."
Jessica balked. She was embarrassed and angry that Adam would do this to her in front of the storekeeper and his wife.
"Are you with me or not, Jessica?" Adam's voice was low. It was a dare.
"I'm with you, right to the gates of hell if that's how far we have to go to catch the Black Bandit." With that, she dropped the saddlebags to the floor and caught her soft leather skirt, hiking it to her thighs.
Adam threw back his head and laughed at the sight of the whore's purple and green bloomers beneath her sensible riding skirt. He laughed so hard that his eyes went teary. Furious, Jessica snatched up her saddlebags and hurried out. She could still hear Adam's laughter as she slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Seven
"This here was hers." Pauline pushed open the door to the room Jessica had slept in. "Nobody been in it since. I swear it."
Jacob carried his leather valise into the room and laid it on the faded quilt spread on the cot. He lifted his head, sniffing deeply as he let his eyes drift shut. The scent of Jessica's fresh, young body still lingered in the room. "How long has she been gone?"
"Two days," Pauline told the silver-haired gentleman.
Jacob sat down in the single chair and ran his tapered index finger along the washbowl rim. Surely his Jessica must have rinsed her face in this bowl. "Where did she go?"
"Mr. Sern put her on a train for Seattle." Pauline chewed on her lower lip in indecision. Finally she spoke. "But I ain't so sure that's where she's headed just yet."
Jacob looked up. "What do you mean?" When the girl hesitated, he became insistent. "You must tell me! Jessica is my wife."
Pauline's eyes went wide. "Your wife! She didn't say anything about being married. She said she didn't have any kin with her brother bein' dead now."
He stood and wiped his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. "If she didn't go to Seattle where might she have gone?"
"Sharpston, maybe. I gave her directions as best I could. Though I'm not so sure now that I did her a good turn."
"She didn't take the train?"
Pauline chuckled. "Don't no train go through Sharpston. Logan's probably the closest stop."
Jacob folded his handkerchief on the original fold line and then slipped it into his coat. "You said her brother was dead?" It was an afterthought.
"Got shot during that robbery a few days back. Didn't you hear 'bout it? They say it was all over the wires."
Jacob glanced out the window at the miserable, dirty street below. "Where's the boy buried?"
"Right here in Loco, behind the Baptist church. It's the only burin' place we got. Want to see his grave? I can take you there."
"No, that will be all right. But tell me, are you certain it was Mark Landon?"
"Well, Miss Jessica certainly must have known her own brother! She made the arrangements herself."
Feeling weak, Jacob removed his bowler hat and sat down on the cot. "I believe I'll rest and then take my supper here in my room."
Pauline grimaced. "Guests usually eat downstairs in the saloon."
"I'll pay you for your trouble." He stretched out on the cot, feeling light-headed, but took care not to let his boot heels touch the quilt. "Right now I'd like you leave me be. Later I'll have you direct me toward the telegraph office. I'll need to send my lawyer a wire concerning the boy's death."
Although she knew she'd been dismissed, Pauline hung in the doorway. There was something about the gentleman that didn't quite fit. How could Jessica have married a man like this?
"That will be all," Jacob said sharply.
Pauline bobbed a curtsy and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she walked down the hall she wished she hadn't offered so much information to Mr. Dorchester. If there was one thing she had learned growing up in a whorehouse, it was which men were dangerous and which weren't. It was instinct, her mother had told her. Well, this man was dangerous. She could smell it on his toilet-water breath.
Jessica was strapping her saddlebags on Hera's back when Adam came out of the general store with a few more items. In silence he packed them on Zeus' back and then gave a nod. "This way."
"Where are we going?" Jessica slipped the last buckle and hurried after him, her anger over the bloomers forgotten.
"Think before you speak, Jess." Adam tapped his temple with a bronze forefinger. "Why did we come to Sharpston?"
"To see Elmo Shine." She caught up with him, and stretched to match his stride. "You found Shiner?" She broke into a smile. "I knew we could do this together!"
"I don't see we doing anything. I'm doing the looking while you yap."
Jessica chose to ignore his comment. "Where is he?"
"The saloon keeper said that if it was before three, we could find him at the livery stable."
"He works there?"
"No, he sleeps off his drunks."
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Great. He'll be loads of help."
They came to the livery stable and Adam stepped back, extending a hand. "Ladies first. I thought I'd let you do the talking. It seems to be your talent."
She walked through the archway into the dim stable. The air smelled of hay and must and fresh horse dung. Dust motes floated in the rays of sunshine pouring through the small windows.
A man stepped out in front of Jessica and she stopped short. "Can I help you, little lady?"
She stared at the bearded man. "Um, yes. I'm looking for Elmo Shine. The saloon keeper said we could find him here."
The livery stable owner glanced at Adam, then took a step back. "You got to be Sern. There's only one lawman in these parts that's a redskin."
"Is he here or not?" Adam's voice was cool and forceful.
"Old Shiner, hell yeah, he's here. He in trouble with the law?"
"Where is he?" Jessica looked around but saw nothing but horses in box stalls and tack hanging from the beams. "We just want to ask him a few questions."
The man stepped back. "The hay pile most likely." He jerked his head toward the rear of the dilapidated stable.
Jessica led the way, picking her way through piles of manure and broken wagon pieces. In a back corner there was a pile of fresh hay stacked nearly to the ceiling. She could make out the shape of a man curled into a ball at the bottom of the stack. Jessica glanced doubtfully over her shoulder, but Adam only offered a sardonic smile.
"Mr. Shine," she called as she approached the sleeping man. "Mr. Shine."
The man gave a groan but made no attempt to lift his head off the hay.
"Mr. Shine, I need to talk to you." Jessica gave him a push with the toe of her boot. He reeked of cheap liquor and human urine. "Mr. Shine?"
&
nbsp; Elmo rolled over onto his back and stared up, trying to focus. "Gladys? That you?"
"Mr. Shine, my name is Jessica Landon and I need to speak with you."
He sat up and scratched his armpit. His face was tanned and wrinkled by the sun; his head sported a shock of white hair. "You ain't Gladys, are you?" He seemed disappointed.
"No, sir. Are you well enough to talk?" She crouched down to stare into his bloodshot eyes. His whiskey breath was enough to turn her stomach. "Mr. Shine, I'm told you rode with the Black Bandit."
Elmo looked up with interest. "Darn right I did, but don't nobody believe me. Nobody knew me 'fore I was a drunk. Nobody believes I'm a sharpshooter. That damned Larry, he couldn't shoot the broadside of a whore's bottom."
Adam stooped beside Jessica. "Larry? You mean the Black Bandit?"
Elmo wiped his mouth with his filthy sleeve. "That Black Bandit stuff, the newspapers made up. They called him that 'cause he always wears that darned black bandanna. His name's Larry Caine. 'Course he don't go by that 'lessin' he's feelin' cocky."
Jessica looked at Adam and smiled. "I think we should take Mr. Shine over to the barber, get him a bath and a shave, find some clothes, and fill him with a hot meal."
Adam winked. "Just what I was thinking."
Shaved and wearing a fresh set of clothes, Elmo Shine looked like a new man sitting across the table from Jessica.
"Yup, a Texas Ranger I was. Down on the Rio Grande."
"So what makes a Texas Ranger join with a man like Larry Caine?" Adam watched Shiner shovel beans into his mouth.
"Got restless. Just picked up with the wrong bunch, I guess. I didn't realize what they were doin' 'til it was too late to get out. First it was just a little regulatin', then they went to robbin' a bank here and there. When I said I wanted out, Larry carried my wife, Gladys, off and shot me and left me for the buzzards down Kansas way." He sopped up the remainder of the bean drippings with a biscuit, and crammed it into his mouth. "It was just luck a man and his wife come along and picked me up."
Jessica leaned across the table. "I want you to help me, Mr. Shine."
In Close Pursuit Page 7