In Close Pursuit

by Colleen French

  Johnny got up off his stool and poured some water into a kettle and put it on the stove to heat. "From the looks of this weather, you're going to be here all winter, like it or not."

  "Any suggestions?" He looked at the single room doubtfully. There certainly was no room for them here.

  "Well . . ." Clyde propped his feet on Johnny's stool. "That's a hard one. I'd offer you a place on the floor here, but I already got Johnny bunkin' with me. He had a right nice place. Upstairs and down till it burnt to the ground last month while we were celebratin' his birthday."

  Johnny shrugged. "Can't rebuild 'til spring when my pop ships the lumber. He wasn't too pleased to hear we'd burnt the house and the office. He's the one that actually owns the shipping line. I'm just running this end."

  "The captain said there was no hotel, but surely there must be somewhere we could stay." Jessica pushed back a lock of dirty hair that had fallen forward. She was dying for a bath.

  Clyde shook his head. "The only place I can think of that would suit would be Miss Melba's."

  Johnny laughed. "Good old Melba. Now there's a woman who can show a man a good time!"

  Adam glanced at Jessica. "Shall we try Melba's?"

  She sighed. "What choice have we got?" Jessica knew the woman was a whore. She could see it on the men's faces. But was she above staying at a whorehouse? Certainly not. At this point, if the room was clean and the mattress was free of bugs, she'd take anything.

  "You could just wait here," Adam suggested, putting his wet greatcoat back on. "Smells like coffee brewing."

  "No, that's all right. I thank you men for your hospitality." She gave a nod.

  "Third place on the left past the dog pens," Clyde told them as he moved his black checker. "Can't miss it."

  Jessica and Adam trudged through the swirling snow, down the street. It had grown dark while they were inside, though it was barely suppertime. Jessica huddled against Adam's warm back as they made their way to the door of Miss Melba's.

  "You wishing you'd stayed in Seattle?" Adam asked as he knocked on the door.

  "Of course not," Jessica answered. "Just wishing it had been spring instead of fall when we left."

  The door swung open and a pretty woman in her early thirties appeared. "Well, come in, handsome. Don't just stand there and let the whole mountain blow in." She didn't look like a whore to Jessica with her natural honey blond hair, heart-shaped face, and pale blue eyes, but she certainly talked like one.

  Adam stepped inside and Jessica followed. "Clyde said you might be interested in renting me a room," Adam said.

  Melba broke into a wide smile. "Rent, hell, I'll share my bed, with you, sweetness. A girl can get cold when the wind blows out of the north."

  Jessica stepped past Adam and came into Melba's view. "We're looking for a room for the both of us," she said tartly, amazed by the jealousy that burned inside her. "Have you a room for two?"

  Never missing a beat, Melba swung out her hand in genuine friendship. Jessica hesitated a second, then gave it a firm shake. "Pardon me. Didn't know he was taken. You his wife?"

  "Not yet," Adam interrupted. "But I'm working on her."

  Melba reached for their coats. "Lucky woman you are, then. Well, come on with you. Come in and get warm. I'm alone; business is slow with this weather. I was busy readin' my papers that come in on the Marissa."

  "This mean you have a room to rent us?" Adam asked, taking an immediate liking to Melba.

  "You got cash?"

  "I do."

  "Do you overindulge in hard liquor?"

  "No."

  "Sold! I can use the cash to tide me through until the miners and trappers hit here in the spring." She led them down the carpeted hall and into a nicely decorated parlor. "What brings you this way, this time of year?"

  "We're tracking the man who killed my brother," Jessica answered, picking up a pretty porcelain figurine off a rosewood table. "My name's Jessica Landon. He's Deputy Marshal Adam Sern."

  Adam plucked off his hat and Melba gave a low whistle. "God, if you don't beat all! You not from around here, are you?"

  Adam glanced at Jessica, embarrassed. "From Philadelphia originally."

  "That's no Philadelphia suntan, Mr. Adam Sern. Don't tell me you're one of those redskins!"

  Adam laughed, taking no offense. Somehow the words didn't seem the same coming out of this young woman's mouth. It was obvious she didn't want to be judged, nor did she judge. "My mother was Ojibwa. I was born in Canada."

  Melba gave a nod. "Fine-looking sons you and Jessica are going to be making."

  It was Jessica's turn to be embarrassed. She picked up another figurine, wondering if she could live all winter with this straight-talking woman.

  "Well, listen," Adam said. "I need to get back down to the dock and get our trunk."

  "No need. I'll send Benny."

  "Benny?"

  "He lives here with me. One of the Indians from up north. He's a mute. Some trapper cut out his tongue years ago when Benny was still a boy. He helps me out. In the summer I try to get a couple of girls in from Seattle so the house gets pretty busy."

  "Sounds like you've got quite a business going. I wouldn't have thought there'd be that many men coming through here."

  She smiled slyly. "You'd be surprised how far a man will walk for a whore when he's spent the winter in an eight by eight cabin with twelve dogs." She gave a laugh and signaled for them to follow. "Come on. Benny's got supper ready. It's just moose stew, but he makes a fine sourdough bread to go with it."

  Adam glanced at Jessica, a smile on his lips. It was infectious. She smiled too and took the hand he offered. Together the two followed Melba down the hall and into a cozy kitchen. There was a man standing at the stove, tending the fire. He turned when they entered the room, and glanced uncertainly at Melba.

  "It's all right, sweet," Melba chided, laying her hand on Benny's arm. "They're friends. They're going to be staying with us for a while. This is Adam and Jessica."

  Benny gave a nod. He was a short, stocky young man of eighteen or twenty with a broad, flat face. Although Melba called him an Indian, his skin color was nothing like Adam's. His skin was a yellow, muddy brown where Adam's was a rich copper.

  Jessica smiled.

  Adam gave a nod. "Nice to meet you, Benny."

  "Set two more plates, Benny," Melba said, taking her seat at the table. "And let's eat."

  Benny gave a nod and hurried to do her bidding. It was obvious he was as fond of her as she was of him.

  Later when the meal was over, Melba and Adam talked while Jessica sat in her chair near the door, drifting in and out of sleep. It felt so good to be warm and comfortable again. The boat had been so damp that she had thought she'd never be warm again.

  Adam laid his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, sleepyhead, let's go to bed. You're going to fall off that chair in another minute."

  Jessica stood, covering a yawn with her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been much company," she apologized to Melba.

  "Pshaw! Don't be silly. I know that boat ride was hell. I had Benny take you up some water for a bath. Soak in the tub and then climb into bed with that handsome man of yours. You'll be fit as new by morning."

  Adam draped his hand over Jessica's shoulder and they followed Melba down the hall and up the steps. Her home was small, but comfortable. Rugs scattered the plank floor and delicate flowered wallpaper covered the walls.

  Melba led them down the hallway that was lighted by wall sconces everywhere and pushed open a door at the far end. "We call this the green room. Hope you like it. My grandma had a green bedroom. I always wanted one like it."

  The room was pretty with green and white vined-leaf wallpaper. It was sparsely, but adequately furnished with a bed, and bed table, a closet, chest of drawers, and a large copper tub. "Oh, we're not taking your room are we?" Jessica asked.

  "Nope, you're not. I sleep in the red room. Benny sleeps in the kitchen, except when he's sleeping with me." She gave Jessica
a wink. "Well, your trunk's there under the window. Anything you need, just give a holler. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to the folks in town, Adam. Maybe you can get some information about that killer of yours."

  "I'd appreciate it, Melba. Jessica and I've come a long way. We don't want to lose Caine now."

  "Well, good night to you." She flashed them a smile and closed the door behind her.

  Jessica looked at Adam with round eyes. "She's really something, isn't she?"

  "She is. But I like her." He came up behind her and began to unbutton her shirtwaist. "She says what she thinks."

  "Do you really think Benny sleeps with her?"

  Adam laughed, brushing aside the material of her shirtwaist to kiss the bare skin of her shoulder. His fingers found the delicate gold locket she wore around her neck. "I don't know about sleeping, but it sounds like he visits, doesn't it?"

  Jessica closed her eyes as Adam slipped off her shirt and cupped her breasts with his rough hands, pressing his chest against her back. He kissed her neck and she sighed. "Oh, I've met so many strange, wonderful people, Adam. People I didn't know existed!"

  He continued to undress her, kissing her here and there as he cast her clothes aside. "Wonderful people? I guess I never looked at it that way," he mused.

  She turned and looped her hands around his neck, fully unclothed now. "Since I left Tennessee, I've seen so much good and bad. But it makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt before. Do you know what I mean?" She gazed up into Adam's dark eyes.

  He brushed at a wisp of her dark hair, taking in her heavenly green eyes. "I think I do know what you mean. But it's not the world that's done it to me, Jess, it's you."

  She laughed and lifted up on her toes to kiss him. "My bath water's getting cold. Want to join me?"

  His hands went to the buttons of his flannel shirt. "Best invitation I've gotten all day!"

  "What do you mean no one is sailing?" Jacob demanded of the ticket clerk. "I must make my way north to Harrisburg!"

  The spectacled clerk rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I'm telling you, sir, no steamers are going north in this weather."

  "That's what you've been telling me for three blasted weeks!"

  "Look, mister, I don't have any control over the weather. All I'm telling you is that this company is not shipping in weather like this. Might not be another boat till spring."

  "I can't wait that long!"

  "Unless you want to swim, you may have to. Now if you'll excuse me," he slid off his stool, taking with him a bundle of papers, "I have work to be done."

  Jacob leaned against the wall of the ticket office, letting his eyes drift shut in frustration.

  Lansing watched from the door. "I told you, Jake old fellow, not for love nor money could I get passage for us north."

  Jacob's face soured. "Well, we'll just have to keep trying, won't we, Mr. Lansing!"

  "Look, I'm as anxious to get to this Harrisburg place as you are. My novel is nearly complete."

  Jacob stuffed his hands into the pockets of his finely tailored black greatcoat. "I don't care about your blasted novel, all I care about is my wife!"

  "Now, you agreed, I help you find your wife. I bring her to you and I get exclusive rights to the story."

  "I know! I know!" Jacob waved. "But you can't bring her to me if we can't get off the dock!" He brushed past Lansing. "Well, we might as well go back to the hotel where it's warm and wait for this storm to pass."

  "It's all we can do, Jake." Lansing followed him out of the ticket office and into the freezing rain.

  "Gone? How can he be gone?" Jessica asked. She was seated in the parlor with Melba. Adam had just come in after talking with several townspeople.

  "He just disappeared." Adam rested his hand on the doorframe. "He most likely went with those miners, but there's no way I can get over those mountains now."

  "Damn straight you can't!" Melba looked up from one of Benny's socks she was darning. "You walk out of here and start for those mountains and you'll not come back alive."

  "So what do we do?" Jessica asked.

  He shrugged. "We wait."

  "All winter!"

  "You got any better ideas?" he asked impatiently.

  "No." She rubbed her temple. "I'm sorry. I was just hoping we could get this over with and start living our lives."

  "I know." Adam squeezed her shoulder. "But we've got no choice."

  "Oh, come on! It won't be such a bad winter," Melba said, returning her attention to the sock. "We'll play cards, drink a little peach brandy. Think of all of the long dark afternoons you two can spend rollin' on that fine bed upstairs." She grinned.

  Adam looked down at Jessica. After a moment she reached for his hand. "All right, so we stay the winter and come spring we go over the mountains after our Black Bandit."

  "I go after our Black Bandit. You sit tight," he corrected, "and think about wedding plans. It'll be the best way to take care of your Mr. Dorchester."

  Jessica looked away. She hadn't thought of Jacob in days. When would her life ever be less complicated? As much as she loved Adam, she wasn't willing to give up the thought of seeing Caine dead by her own hand. She didn't know how she was going to manage, all she knew was that come spring, when Adam crossed that mountain range, she was going to be with him . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jessica leaned against the back of a wooden chair, laughing at one of Clyde's Inane jokes. The months had slipped by so quickly. Melba, Clyde, Johnny, and the others in Harrisburg had made her and Adam so welcome. In the winter months she had become one of them, and Jessica had found happiness and contentment. Thoughts of Jacob Dorchester and Larry Caine had faded in her mind until they were just bad memories.

  Melba stood in the doorway, tears of laughter running down her porcelain cheeks. "If you don't beat all, you dirty old man!" she teased Clyde, who was well over twice her age. She slipped into her furlined overcoat. "Now you be sure and come see me soon!"

  "Oh, get out of here. You'd give me a heart attack and there I'd be in Johnny's shed frozen stiff till spring thaw when you could bury me!"

  Jessica's eyes went wide. "Johnny's shed! What on earth do you mean?"

  Clyde poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove. "You don't think there'd be any burying this time a year do you? March or no, you couldn't get a pick through the first inch of that permafrost. There's no digging graves in the winter, girl!"

  She grimaced. "So you put the bodies in sheds?"

  Clyde shrugged. "You want 'em in Melba's parlor all winter? I just heard of a man killed in a gunfight in a town over the mountains where they got a body in the General Store's food locker. They shove aside the poor bloke and slice off a hunk of frozen beef."

  "God, Clyde, you are the biggest liar I ever laid eyes on!" Melba pulled her red stockingcap over her head.

  "I am not. Truth, swear to God on my sister's grave!"

  "You said you were an only child!" she shot back.

  Clyde snickered. "Be that as it may, I'm telling you, a man was shot in a card game over to Marbleton and they put the body in Jim Carradine's food locker. It was either there or in the shithouse."

  Jessica glanced up at Clyde. Sudden images of Larry Caine popped into her head. She thought of Mark and his lifeless, blood-spattered body. All of the hate she thought had subsided over the winter suddenly came tumbling back. The hatred had never left her, only dulled with time, and now it burned in her chest like hot coals. "Killed in a card game, you say?"

  "So I was told."

  "Poor fool." Melba shook her head. "Well, Jessica, I'd say it's time we get home. That man of yours will be thinking the wolves carried us off. You coming?"

  "I'm coming." Jessica put on her greatcoat and fur hat and waved good-bye to Clyde. Outside, she'd not taken two steps when she called to Melba just ahead of her. "I forgot to ask Clyde something, Melba. You go on ahead without me."

  "You sure?"

  Jessica nodded, her hand alread
y on the doorknob. "I'll be right behind you!"

  Inside Clyde's, Jessica walked to the stove where Clyde sat, his feet propped on a wooden crate.

  "Fast trip," Clyde commented, lighting his pipe.

  "That man killed in a card game, Clyde . . ."

  "Yeah, what about him?"

  "Do you know who did it?"

  He drew on his pipe with a sucking sound. "Buckle McGinnis said it was some newcomer. Guess there was an argument over cards. One man accused the other of cheatin'. The man accused didn't actually do the shootin'. Buckle said it was the brother."

  "He wasn't arrested?"

  "The dead man pulled his gun first." Clyde blew a series of smoke rings into the air. "Got what he deserved, most folks'd say."

  Jessica stared at the bright flames that flickered in the cracks of Clyde's stove. It was the Caine brothers! She was sure of it! Larry Caine had survived the trek over the mountain pass and had lived through the harsh winter to kill again. He was somewhere out there with her carpetbag. She knew the money was probably gone, but her tintypes and her grandmother's recipes . . . she had to get them back!

  Jessica cleared her throat. "You said a man by the name of Buckle told you about the murder."

  "Buckle McGinnis. Fine trapper. Used to work for the Hudson Bay Company, but now he's on his own."

  "Is he still here? In Harrisburg, I mean."

  "Reckon he is." Clyde looked, his pipe clenched in his yellowed teeth. "Why do you ask?"

  "Where can I find him?"

  "Now don't be going off half-cocked, girl. I see that look in your eye."

  Jessica set her jaw with resolve. "Where is he, Clyde?"

  "Adam ought to beat you, that's what he ought to do," he said cantankerously. "That's how we handled women like you in my day."

  "Clyde . . ."

  "Down to Lester's. Having a drink and playing a hand of cards I expect."

  "Thank you!" Jessica ran for the door.

  "Jessica," the old man called.

  She flipped the latch and turned the doorknob before she looked back. "Yeah?"

  "Hate's a mean thing. It eats you from the inside out. By the time you see it, it's too late. Hate can kill you faster than a whiteout on a January day."