Darling Annie

by Raine Cantrell

  “Would be?” The words filled Annie with dread, and she felt as if her insides were quaking. She shot a look at her aunt, busy with measuring pinches of herbs into the teapot. For once Annie was glad of her aunt’s deafness.

  “You heard me,” Laine said. “I’m very handy with a gun. I had to be.” She looked up with a smug smile just as the doves filed into the kitchen. “Ask them. We worked a few places together before I brought them here. They can tell you how good a shot I am.”

  The doves didn’t wait to be asked. Most murmured agreement.

  “Was there anything else you wanted to ask me before I leave?”

  “Leave? Where are you going, Laine?” Ruby asked.

  “The coast. I’m tired of small towns and smaller minds.”

  “Does Kell know?” Annie couldn’t help being glad. If Laine was gone, her plans to reform the other women would be easier.

  “I didn’t tell him. I really don’t need his permission. I’m my own woman.” Laine rose and came around to stand near Annie. “Finished with your questions?”

  “Yes. Yes, you’ve answered them.” Distracted, Annie blocked out whatever Laine was saying to the doves. Some of her questions had been answered, true enough, but more were rearing their ugly heads. She didn’t want to believe—even after her impassioned declaration to Kell—but now she had no choice. The culprit was someone she knew. Someone she thought a friend.

  Annie’s quandary of unanswered questions was shared by Kell and Li once Bronc started talking.

  Kell’s pain had settled to discomfort after Li had retrieved a fresh bottle of whiskey from his bottom drawer. Whiskey had taken the edge off the pain, but Kell had to struggle not to move as he watched Bronc pace in front of the bed. He concentrated on curbing his impatience every time the man hesitated.

  “I know I found it hard to believe at first, but I followed her.”

  “And?” Kell prompted, ignoring Li’s look that counseled patience.

  “And I didn’t see anything, Kell. It’s just a feeling I’ve got. She’s not a woman willin’ to listen to reason. Not ’bout you.”

  “But is she a woman capable of murder, Bronc?” Li asked.

  It was a question Annie asked herself over and over as she forced herself to go to Emmaline. Her friend had to set aside their differences and help her. One of the women, and here Annie had a hard time naming them, but Lucinda, Velma, Ruth, and Abigail were the only ones she could think of who had time, opportunity, and reason to get rid of Kell.

  Annie went around to the back where Emmaline had a private entrance to her rooms behind the dress shop. No one was at the building site, and she realized after a few minutes that Emmaline wasn’t answering the door.

  Stepping back a little, Annie glanced from side to side, noting that the windows had both the sheer lace curtain and the heavier drapes covering them. Emmaline was the only one she could talk to now. Determination sent her back to knocking at the door.

  Inside, Emmaline sat in her darkened parlor, each knock echoing the pounding in her head. “Go away, Annie,” she whispered. “Go away.”

  But Annie wasn’t listening. She began to call out, moving from window to window, rapping to gain attention.

  Emmaline covered her ears with her hands, rocking back and forth, wishing the woman would disappear and leave her in peace.

  But she knew how futile a wish it was. Annie wouldn’t leave. She would have no peace.

  “Emmaline! Emmaline, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

  Annie’s shouting roused Emmaline to stand. She slowly shook her head, understanding that resistance was futile. She went to the door and drew back the bolt, then stood aside in shadow to allow Annie in.

  “You couldn’t leave things alone, could you, Annie? You had to interfere. You had to come here.”

  “Emmaline, what’s wrong with you?” Annie stood in the middle of the darkened room, turned to face her friend as she closed the door. The sound of the bolt sliding home was the only sound Annie heard above her indrawn breath.

  She saw what Emmaline held. Saw it, but couldn’t believe it.

  “Emmaline?”

  “Sit down. We shall have a talk, then you are going to help me.”

  In Kell’s room, the silence was drawing out, filled with tension as Bronc paused in the telling of his story. Li had gone to reassure everyone that Kell wasn’t injured badly and had just returned.

  “The first time I spent the night with her,” Bronc said, staring out the window, simply unable to face his boss, “she started talking in her sleep. Callin’ for Charlie. Took me back some. But when I woke her up, Emmaline couldn’t remember anyone by that name. Bad dream, that’s what she called it. But I couldn’t get back to sleep and sure enough, she woke along ’bout dawn calling for him again.

  “She’s real shy. You’ve got to understand that, Kell.” Bronc turned, but avoided the other two men’s gazes. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and stared at the floor. “It took some doing, but she finally admitted that she’s no widow. Charlie was her husband, still is, for all she knows. He ran off with a sportin’ gal an’ left Emmaline with debts that cost her home and their business. He was a carpenter.”

  “I know how hard it is for you to tell us this, Bronc,” Kell said. And he knew if it had been Annie, he’d likely want to do everything he could to protect her. Even lie. But the latest accident showed that things had gone too far. The wood and nails could be replaced. His life or someone else’s couldn’t.

  “Still can’t believe it,” Bronc added, shaking his head and once more turning to the window. “She’s so sweet and kind. Don’t seem possible. But after today I can’t hide this.”

  When the silence once more grew thick with tension, Li, who was leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, turned to Kell.

  “Your call.”

  “Thanks.” Kell barely spared Li a glance. “Bronc, she—Christ, I don’t know what the hell to do.”

  “I’ve got some savings put by. It’s all yours. Ain’t gonna make up for the trouble she caused, but—”

  “Forget the damned money, Bronc. I can handle the loss. The only problem is what to do with her. If she’s obsessed with closing us down, Loving isn’t the place for all of us. You know the only reason I kept the doves on. If I could find work for them, if they want to leave, I’d be happy with the Silken Aces as a saloon.”

  Kell caught the look Bronc suddenly shared with Li. “What? You both look like you can’t believe me.”

  “It is most difficult, Kell,” Li answered. “A few weeks—no, even days—ago, you would have demanded your pound of flesh or its equal in cash.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe some of all the do-gooders in this house rubbed off on me.”

  “You’re willing to let Emmaline go?”

  “I’m willing enough, Bronc. Thing is, is she?”

  “I could take her away from here. Find me a little place an’ maybe start up new. Guess I’m a fool, but I fell hard for Emmaline. First time a woman ain’t shy ’bout needin’ me to make her happy.”

  “Much as it disturbs me to interrupt your plans, Bronc, and yours, Kell, has either one of you thought that Emmaline might not agree?”

  “Leave it to you, Li,” Kell said with a scowl. “No. Wait. Get Annie. She has a right to know, and Emmaline’s her friend. Damn me, but she’s going to take this hard. I know, I know,” he said, a slicing motion of his good arm stopping Li from interrupting. “She finally admitted it was one of her group. But with Annie I’ve come to learn that admitting something and believing it can mean a long wait’s ahead.”

  “I will fetch Annie.”

  Kell offered the bottle to Bronc before Li closed the door. “Have a drink. You’ll need it to face Muldoon.” He meant it as much as a peace offering, knowing what it cost Bronc to come forth. He wondered whether he could have done it if it had been Annie. Brooding, Kell closed his eyes. He h
adn’t had time to think about what Annie told him. Love. What the devil did he know about it?

  He was as green as meadow grass about love, as Annie had been about men and sex. Since that no longer held true for her, did he in turn understand what her declaration meant? Annie was a woman forever. A … even in his thoughts he couldn’t quite form the word.

  “I’ll have a drink, Bronc.” One for courage, Kell told himself, savoring the bite and warmth. He waited a few moments, until he forced the word out. Wife. Annie was meant to be a wife. The cold sweat covering his body had nothing to do with his injury.

  The light rap on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.”

  Kell wasn’t surprised to see Laine. But he was surprised that she was dressed for traveling. Dressed for once almost like a lady. “Going somewhere?”

  “I’m leaving, Kell. Denley Wallace is giving me a ride to Forth Worth. I can wait for a stage out to California there.”

  “Kinda of sudden, ain’t it?” Bronc asked.

  Laine ignored him and tugged on the ruffled edge of her gloves. Satisfied, she once more met Kell’s studying gaze. “You know why I’m going. We don’t need to rehash. But before I left I wanted you to know that you’re not the man your brother was.”

  “And I thank the Lord for that. There’s money due you, Laine. Guess all I can say is good luck.”

  She smiled for the first time. “Don’t worry about the money. I skimmed a bit more off last night to cover what you owe me. I’ll take your good wishes, though; I never had any.”

  Kell laughed. Not at her, but himself. Li wasn’t off the mark at all. He had changed since coming to Loving. Changed even more since he’d met Annie.

  “I knew about the skimming, Laine, but take it with the good wishes. It’ll make up for everything you thought Kyle owed you and never paid.”

  She turned for the door, then paused to look back at Kell’s prone figure on the bed. “It never would have worked out. My staying on. But I thank you for the offer of a partnership of sorts, Kell. Maybe there’s a man out there who thinks like you. Maybe California’s the place I’ll find him.”

  “Well, don’t that beat all,” Bronc said, once she had closed the door.

  Before Kell could answer him, Li burst into the room. “Annie’s gone. No one’s seen her. But her aunt thinks she may have gone to Emmaline.”

  “Sweet Christ!” Kell struggled off the bed. “Bronc, you’d better pray that woman loves you. Because I’m warning you now. If she touches one hair on my Annie’s head, I’ll kill her.”

  Chapter 21

  “I don’t understand why you never told me any of this, Emmaline. All this time. I thought we were the best of friends. And not once, not even a hint of the lie you’ve been living. Why? Just tell me why?” Annie pleaded. She refused to look at the gun Emmaline held on her. Annie was trying desperately not to remember the weapon at all.

  She refused to cower in the deep wing chair where she had been ordered to sit. Annie knew how dangerous the situation was, but her need to know, to understand, had prompted her demands.

  “Please, Emmaline. I’ve listened, but—”

  “Would you have welcomed me as a friend if I’d said I was an abandoned wife? That my husband ran off with a whore? Tell me, Annie, how you would have lied to me. Tell me about the respect the other women in town would have given me when they found out. And then,” she said in a voice that vibrated with fury, “tell me how I would have been given the chance to start a new life for myself without the taint of being run out of town ’cause I couldn’t pay all the debts.”

  “There is no way I can answer you, Emmaline.” Annie tried to fight the chill that had her spine quaking. She must remember that this was Emmaline. Her friend. But she had never known her, never knew the secrets she had carried. She was afraid of this woman and Annie had never realized how hard it was to disguise that fear. The thought crossed her mind that she didn’t know if the gun was loaded. Annie eyed the weapon in the gloom of the room and decided that she wasn’t brave enough to find out by lunging for it.

  “Emmaline, I trusted you. I can’t say what the others would have done.” Keep her talking, Annie told herself. Her mouth was parched and she swallowed. Fear had sucked all the moisture from her body. “If you had told me from the first meeting, when we talked about forming the group, how strong your feelings were, things wouldn’t have come this far.”

  “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

  “You never gave me a chance!”

  “Sit down, Annie. I haven’t decided what to do with you.”

  With some surprise, Annie realized that she had stood up. Her knees were shaking, and she braced one against the other.

  “I don’t want to sit. I’m scared and likely the dumbest creature on earth to tell you, but I need to move. Don’t worry. I won’t make a grab for you, Emmaline. Despite what you’ve done, despite what you did to hurt Kell, I can’t hate you.”

  “As if I care.”

  “I think you do. If not,” Annie dared to say, “why didn’t you just shoot me?”

  “Shoot you?” Emmaline repeated, unable to keep the horror of the thought from her voice. “I never wanted to kill anyone. I just wanted them all to go away from Loving. Those women are evil. They do the devil’s work, enticing men to lose their wages gambling, sending them home reeking of liquor, mean as sin, and ready to use their fists ’cause a woman can’t be what they are.”

  “Is that what Charlie did to you, Emmaline? Did he hurt you?”

  “It was that shameless hussy’s fault. Charlie was a good man till he met her.”

  “If you believe that, why wouldn’t you help me when I asked? I wanted your help, Emmaline. I wanted to give those women a chance to live a different life than the one they have known.”

  Annie paced, thinking she could try to run through the store and get away. But the longer she spoke with Emmaline, the less the idea appealed. Friendship meant more than sharing minor troubles. A friend had to be there when no one else would stand by you. This would all come out, and Annie knew most of the women wouldn’t understand. They would turn on Emmaline. There was no longer the thought of risk to herself. Emmaline needed her. She couldn’t judge her and not stand ready to be judged herself.

  “You know, Emmaline,” Annie said softly, drawing nearer to the straight-back chair the woman sat in before the door, “those women can’t force men to come to them. They don’t go out and hold a gun—”

  “You dare tell me that! What do you know?”

  “That’s the point, Emmaline. I do know them.” Annie acted impulsively and came to kneel in front of her. She was careful not to try to hold one of Emmaline’s hands, but rested hers on her arm. “They have had hard lives, dear. And like you, they’ve struggled the best they knew to survive. You had a skill and the desire to live a decent life. That’s what I wanted you to show them. Your strength, Emmaline. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re a widow or not. But you can destroy yourself and all you’ve worked for if you don’t give up this hate.”

  “You’re not going to stop me, Annie.” Emmaline shook off her hands and lifted the gun. “Get back in the chair. I’ll have to lock you up in the sewing room while I go out.”

  “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said! Don’t do this.” Annie backed away but refused to sit down. “Kell doesn’t want the doves here. He’s not like his brother. You remember that it was Kyle who let Laine come here.”

  “I won’t hurt anyone, Annie.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done from the start.”

  The fear slammed back into Annie with such force that she fell into the chair. The sudden bright flare of the lamp Emmaline lit made her throw one arm up to shield her eyes. It was only for seconds. The need to protect Kell, protect everyone, forced Annie to lower her arm. Her gaze locked on the gun that Emmaline held at her side.

  For the fi
rst time Annie thought Emmaline might use the gun on herself. The woman’s eyes were staring blankly ahead, not focusing on Annie.

  She wasn’t sure where the idea that she could take the gun away from her came from.

  Thought became action. Annie lunged up from the chair, free of the fear that had held her. Surprise was on her side. She had Emmaline’s wrist shackled with both her hands, unable to enforce her demand with a verbal one, just squeezing as hard as she could to make Emmaline drop the weapon.

  Annie had never thought about the amount of strength a woman had. She had never needed to know. Petite as Emmaline was, she was strong. But Annie had desperation on her side, She used her shoulder to butt Emmaline’s chest, knocking them both off balance.

  The report of the gunshot was deafening in the small parlor.

  “Let it go!” Annie yelled, refusing to release her grip. It was stupid to worry about the gun, but that’s exactly what Annie did. She didn’t know how many shots it carried. The old horse pistol that had belonged to Aunt Hortense’s husband looked nothing like this and carried two shots. When the gun went off again and plaster from the ceiling almost blinded Annie, she stopped thinking and fought Emmaline for possession of the weapon with a single-minded purpose.

  The wrenching pull of her hair made tears fill Annie’s eyes. She tried to ignore the pain, inching one hand over Emmaline’s to try and grab hold of the gun’s barrel. The hot metal made that impossible.

  Elbowing the smaller woman’s side, Annie heard her grunt of pain, and did it again, all the while unaware that she was screaming for Emmaline to let go.

  Emmaline kept her grip on Annie’s hair, driven nearly mad by the thought that Annie would stop her. She pulled harder, crying out when she felt as if the skin and bones of her wrist would snap under Annie’s hold.

  With her head on fire, Annie shoved Emmaline. She saw too late how close they were to the table where the lamp was lit. Afraid of fire, Annie suddenly released the other woman. To her stunned surprise, Emmaline let her go in almost the same moment.

  Annie hurt in too many places. She was dragging air in, trying to moisten her mouth to speak, her throat raw from yelling. She held out her hand to Emmaline, silently pleading with her to give over the gun.