* * *
It was cooler outside and there was a faint scent of pine up here above the town. Gazing down the path, Maddie saw no sign of her brother and knew a sharp pang of worry. She called his name in a high voice that sounded foolishly inadequate. Her face felt warm.
Then came the sound of hoofbeats against packed mud.
Maddie made out the roan first, turning past the stand of pine trees, then the familiar sight of Benjamin's pale, freckled face and spiky hair. When she looked at the big man who held him captive in the saddle, she immediately felt a tightness in her breast.
Never in her life had she seen a more appealingly, overwhelmingly masculine man.
The details were blurred: he was tall, lean but brawny, deeply tanned with an approachable white smile. Bearded, yet possessed of a ruggedly chiseled face. His eyes were a saturated blue, like a mountain lake. His hands were large, strong, long-fingered.
"What are you doing with my brother?" Maddie demanded as he drew near. "I must insist that you release him and identify yourself!"
Dan looked bemused. "For God's sake, lady, I'm doing you a favor!"
When Benjamin fought to scramble down from the saddle, Dan let him go and the boy nearly landed face first in the mud.
"Maddie, he practically kidnapped me! He just grabbed me up on his horse! Isn't that against the law? He could've sold me to the Injins or something!"
The man found Benjamin's last bit of business extremely amusing. When he stopped laughing and looked down, he met the flashing green eyes of the most exquisite woman he'd seen west of Washington, D.C. "My young friend has a flair for melodrama," he said, "honed perhaps during visits to the Green Front...."
"The... Green Front?" Maddie repeated, wrinkling her brow. "What is that?"
"Well, it appears to call itself a theater, ma'am."
Thoroughly confused and alarmed, Madeleine looked down to find that Benjamin had scurried behind her. "But, surely you don't mean to imply that my brother was in... that part of town!"
"We've reached the point where I ought to speak to the boy's father." Dan swung down from Watson's back and stood towering over her. "This really isn't a matter for your delicate sensibilities."
"I've no doubt that you are correct, sir—"
"Please, call me Fox... Maddie." He felt like Fox now, comfortable in the name.
Before she could reply, his strong dark hand reached out and lightly captured her slim fingers. To her dismay, his touch caused her heart to beat harder and her hand seemed to tingle in his. Instinctively, she pulled free.
"You may address me as Miss Avery," she replied primly then glanced down at Benjamin. "Go into the house and wait for me, young man." When the door had slammed behind him, Maddie lifted her chin and met Fox's compelling gaze. "My father is away and I must deal with Benjamin in his absence. I will be honest with you... Mr. Fox. We are new to Deadwood, recently arrived from Philadelphia. I am quite out of my element."
Cocking an eyebrow, he said laconically, "You're a city girl? I never would have guessed."
"Of course you are in jest, but humor is quite inappropriate at this moment. I don't know who you are, sir, or why you took it upon yourself to bring my brother home, but I am grateful. Now you must tell me exactly what it was that he was doing in that... area of town."
"I couldn't possibly speak of it to a lady, Miss Avery."
Fox had removed his hat and held it with the same sun-roughened fingers that had clasped her hand. Maddie noticed now that his hair, a rich shade of dark chestnut, curled luxuriously over his collar. All in all, he was so intensely male—and so self-assured—that she took an involuntary step backward. The young men she had known socially in Philadelphia, intellectuals with proper manners and clean fingernails, had been nothing like this.
"I appreciate your consideration, Mr. Fox, but—"
"Just Fox will do."
After a moment's hesitation Madeleine sighed and continued, "I understand... Fox, that there are many aspects of life here in Deadwood that may shock me deeply, but circumstances dictate that I become aware of them if I am going to protect my brother. I must insist that you enlighten me accordingly." Was she phrasing her thoughts too formally for this earthy man? Smiling politely, she added, "Do you understand what I've said?"
"Just because I'm not wearing a paper collar and a Prince Albert frock coat doesn't mean I'm slow-witted," Fox replied with a short laugh. He rubbed his eyes then, suddenly aware of the exhaustion that was seeping into his bones. "You know, I've just arrived in Deadwood after a long journey myself, and—"
"I would certainly invite you in, sir, were it not imperative that we speak in private. I must shield my grandmother as much as possible."
"Of course." Never in his wildest dreams would he have expected to find such an incongruous female in the Black Hills. One side of his mouth quirked slightly as questions surged up in him and he pushed them back down. "I appreciate that pretty speech, Miss Avery, but we both know that I'm hardly the sort of person you'd invite in for tea. Come to think of it, it may be a while before you find anyone worthy in these parts. But, that's another matter. You wanted to know about the Green Front, and Benjamin..."
"Yes, please." Flushing, Maddie looked down and fussed with the taffeta ruching that encircled her left wrist.
Fox took a breath. Part of him was enjoying this scene. "Are you familiar with the mating rites of men and women, Miss Avery?"
"I beg your pardon!" she cried with a little gasp.
"You insisted that I be forthright. Shall I repeat the question?"
"No!" Her face burned. "I cannot imagine how this—this indecent subject could possibly have any bearing on— Oh, for heaven's sake! Naturally, as an unmarried woman, I am not personally familiar with the act you named. However, I am educated... if you take my meaning."
"I admire your delicacy, miss." His eyes were dancing. "I assume, then, that you're aware that all unmarried women are not chaste like yourself. And, as it happens, a whole lot of those fallen women are right here in Deadwood. In fact, this town is bursting with sin."
Maddie's heart was pounding harder. "What on earth could that possibly have to do with Benjamin?"
"He's just curious, which is natural, but when I saw him in the badlands I thought he might be learning a little more than he needed to at—how old is he?"
"Nine," she said faintly.
Fox shook his head. "Well, it may be too late, but let's hope he still has a little innocence left. You see, the Green Front, along with most every establishment in the badlands as far as I can tell, has—uh... ladies of the evening..."
"I am familiar with the term, but I hardly think that Benjamin would know what such women do if he happened to pass one on the street, or whatever it is you're implying."
"I'm afraid there's more to it." He was losing patience with this careful, circuitous conversation. "In one of the alleys, there are a couple of curtained booths built into the Green Front's outside wall... for men who don't want to bother with... the usual formalities. Your brother was sneaking around next to one of those curtains, listening to the noises, trying to get close enough to peek inside. "
"No!" The blood drained from Maddie's face; even her lips were pale. She was shocked to hear herself exclaim, "You're lying!"
"The hell I am. Listen, lady, I've been as polite as I know how to be about this! I was only trying to help, but if you're going to insult me, I'm more than happy to go. There are a dozen places I'd rather be than here."
"All in the badlands, I surmise!" she accused, infuriated, numb with shock. How could this be happening?
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes! I'm thirty-two, not nine, and if I want to indulge in a few pleasures of the flesh, that's my choice. So, if you're done attacking my character..."
Madeleine felt as if she were drowning in a sea of unreality. Her mother... dear Lord, what would her mother say or think if she knew how her little son was passing his time? How could Maddie hope
to control him in this wicked town, short of locking him in the house? A sense of powerlessness surged through her, taking with it the last vestiges of her strength. She felt cold in the July sunshine, then dizzy and weak.
Fox noticed the beautiful burnished lights of Maddie's hair when she tipped her head down, and then he heard the rustle of her taffeta gown as her knees gave way. Startled, he realized that she was fainting—and managed to catch her just before she tumbled into the mud.
Cradling her slim yet satisfyingly curved body against his broad chest, Fox couldn't suppress a wry smile. It looked like he was going inside her clean and proper house after all....
Chapter 3
July 7, 1876
"Gramma Susan, come quick!" Benjamin shouted as he clattered down the stairs. "That man—that awful man is carrying Maddie! Maybe she's dead! Maybe he killed her!"
Susan came into the parlor, calmly wiping her hands on her long, snowy apron. "Benjamin Franklin Avery, have you been spying out of windows again?"
"Well, you wouldn't watch, and someone had to make sure that Maddie didn't get hurt!" The little boy's hands and face were newly scrubbed, but his hair still stuck up in cowlicks. "Gramma, hurry!"
Unperturbed, Susan opened the door just as Fox reached it, his arms filled with Madeleine's still body. "My goodness! What's become of our Maddie?"
"She seems to have fainted," Fox replied. "Where would you like me to put her?"
Susan led the way into the downstairs bedroom and gestured to the big bed Stephen now shared with his son. Gently Fox laid Maddie on the blue-and-white quilt, then stepped back to admire the beauty of her features in repose.
"What's wrong with her?" Benjamin demanded loudly.
Madeleine stirred slightly as her grandmother pressed a damp cloth to her brow. Fox, meanwhile, gave the boy an ominous look. "Actually, I believe that you are the cause of your sister's distress."
"How could I be? I wasn't even there! You probably did something to her, just like you pulled me up on your horse when I told you to leave me alone!"
"Benjamin, be silent!" Susan said sharply. Leaning down, she gazed into his petulant little face. "I won't allow such rudeness, especially toward your elders."
"Gramma..." Maddie whispered, opening her eyes with an effort.
"Darling, you're all worn out." The old woman gave her a loving smile and kissed her cheek. "Just rest for a few minutes, then I'll bring you some soup and we'll talk."
When Madeleine obeyed, closing her eyes, Susan ushered Fox and Benjamin out of the bedroom. She shut the door, then turned first to her grandson.
"Young man, I want you to go upstairs and lie down on my bed. Keep your eyes and ears to yourself until I call you."
Benjamin gave Fox a narrow look, but he obeyed, mounting the steps loudly and slowly, as if he were en route to the gallows. When he was out of sight and the upper floor fell silent, Susan turned to the tall, roughly attractive stranger.
"I don't believe we've been formally introduced, sir. My name is Susan Hampshire O'Hara."
He took her wrinkled hand and smiled. "It's an honor, Mrs. O'Hara. I'm Fox. I rarely bother with a surname out here. It's simpler."
"Is it?" She fixed him with a perceptive stare. "That's interesting."
He quickly changed the subject. "Miss Avery mentioned that you all had just arrived from Philadelphia. You wouldn't by any chance be related to Senator Lion Hampshire from Philadelphia?"
Now Susan was really intrigued. It was highly unlikely that many Deadwood reprobates running from unsavory pasts would be familiar with a Pennsylvania senator whose career had reached its zenith half a century ago. "I'm proud to say that Lion Hampshire was my father and the finest man I ever knew—except, of course, for my darling husband, Patrick. How do you happen to know of Papa?"
Fox silently cursed his quick tongue. "Now that you mention it, I'm not sure. Must've learned about him in school—or maybe from my mother. She was a schoolteacher and made me read even when I didn't want to. I know I always liked that name, Lion."
"Just as you like the name Fox?" she inquired, with a benign smile. "Never mind. I'm teasing you, and I shouldn't. Instead, I must offer you an apology for the behavior of my grandchildren. I heard Madeleine raising her voice to you outside, which shocked me. Usually she is most ladylike. And Benjamin—goodness, he was absolutely horrid! His mother died recently, which has doubtless taken more of a toll on him than he'll admit. She was my daughter, also, so we've all been grieving. We came West to join the children's father, but Stephen is not available to give Benjamin the discipline that he needs."
Fox found himself charmed by Susan O'Hara's candor. "Well, I appreciate the apology, but it's not necessary. The truth is, I like Miss Avery. If she sounded upset with me, it may be that I was doing a little teasing of my own." He started toward the front door, and Susan walked with him, listening intently. "As for your grandson... I agree with you. He's badly in need of a firm hand, preferably male. It's clear that he respects you, Mrs. O'Hara, but he knows that you aren't going to ride up behind him on a horse, grab him off the street, and carry him home to be punished."
"You may as well tell me everything," she said in tones of surrender as they stood on the pine-board footpath outside. "I doubt whether I'll faint, but perhaps you ought to be prepared."
He laughed out loud at that. Then, more quietly, he told her as much as she needed to know, omitting the lurid details about the convenience booth. It was enough, he decided, that she be aware that Benjamin was sneaking around the badlands rather than playing innocently with other little boys. She knew enough of the world to infer the rest.
"Well, that's hardly worth fainting over, but Maddie does endeavor to take after her mother." Susan tapped her foot for a minute, thinking. "Something will have to be done, though.... Fox, how would you like to join us for supper evening after next? I like you, and I think that it would be beneficial for Benjamin. Perhaps the two of you may be able to deal together more congenially over a home-cooked meal." She paused, watching the play of thoughts in his blue eyes. "That is... unless you are just passing through Deadwood. There's no point in forming attachments if you're not going to be here next week."
He gave her an appealing grin. "No, ma'am, I plan to stay put for the time being. And I'd like to come back here for supper. I thank you for the invitation." He swung onto Watson's back and added, "Are you certain you shouldn't consult with your other relatives about this? I doubt whether either of them will be happy to see me."
"Pooh!" Susan waved a hand in the air dismissingly. "Come at six o'clock and leave the rest to me!"
* * *
By the time Fox got back to the badlands and left Watson at the livery barn, a lot of the pleasure seemed to have gone out of his plans for a wicked evening. However, he hoisted his bedroll and saddlebags over one broad shoulder and walked through the mud to the Gem Theatre.
There were already a few dozen barrooms and many billiard and card halls in Deadwood, but the "theaters of ill repute" were best known: Gem, Bella Union, Melodeon, and Green Front.
Most of the saloons looked as if they'd been thrown up overnight, and some of them were little more than tents. Their roofs leaked and the walls tended to come down during drunken fights or storms. Fox liked the sturdier look of the Gem, and of course, it had real rooms upstairs for privacy. The badlands was so crowded now that he began to wonder if he could get a bed without paying for a girl to go with it.
Inside the Gem, exhausted and dirty miners were drinking, while the card tables were filling up with dishonest-looking types ready for a night of gambling. Fox approached the bar and stood next to a heavyset man who was pungently malodorous. He wondered if he smelled anything like that, then decided that Madeleine Avery would have given some sign of it, like delicately wrinkling her nose in revulsion. Annie Sunday had raised her son to perceive such hints.
After a long wait for the bartender's attention, Fox ordered a double whiskey and downed it without delay.
Perhaps it would banish the memory of the past few weeks and all the conflicting emotions that had been churning inside him since his final confrontation with Custer.
"Want another, pard?" asked the bartender, a frail, bald man with a black mustache.
Fox nodded. He took the second a little slower, but instead of erasing his thoughts, the liquor seemed only to intensify them. He'd always tried to conduct his life honorably, allowing for lapses into harmless sorts of masculine vice. He wasn't a saint, but he believed in the rights and freedoms upon which America was founded.
Why, then, did his experience in Montana leave him with the taste of cowardice in his mouth? He'd offered to ride into battle, and he would have insisted on it if he'd felt the cause was just. Emotionally he continued to feel torn between his sense of duty as an American and his sympathy for the plight of the Indians. Which side was right?
What the hell, Fox thought. It was a bigger problem than one person could unravel, so what did it matter what he thought or did?
"I declare, I thought you'd forgotten me," a soft voice purred at his shoulder.
Fox glanced down through burning eyes to discover the little raven-haired girl who had flirted with him from the balcony. Now she wore a dress of worn blue sateen, specially altered to reveal half her breasts. The fabric poufed over a bustle set high in back, then trailed down across the sawdust-covered floor. She smelled of toilet water and had a thin powder blue ribbon tied around her neck. Fox liked that.
"No, I didn't forget." He touched a tanned finger to her cheek. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Victoria." She couldn't believe that he was as attractive up close as he'd looked from a distance, but it was true. His eyes were deep blue, he had even teeth, a full head of hair, and a strong face. He looked like he could pick her up with one hand and lift her overhead. "My mama named me for the queen of England."
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