Mitch turned and led a grateful Elizabeth back inside the doctor’s office and closed the door. Elizabeth wilted a little, glad to be away from prying eyes. “Thank you,” she told Mitch.
“Wait here, and when this is over, I’ll come get you and take you to Ma’s place.”
Elizabeth sat down in a wooden rocker. “You don’t need to keep escorting me everywhere,” she told Mitch.
“Yes, I do,” Mitch answered. “You don’t know your way around town yet, and there are plenty of men out there still too curious about why you’re here. I have to admit I’m one of them.” He looked her over with a mixture of wonder and irritation in his eyes. “You’ve got to be more forthcoming, Miss Wainright. Even though we’ve all got our secrets, leaving people completely in the dark only makes them pay more attention to you, and I have a feeling attention is the last thing you want.”
Mitch went back outside, and Elizabeth looked up at Doc Wilson.
“He’s right, you know,” Doc told her.
Elizabeth decided she’d better get to work on a credible story. Outside, the crowd broke into another uproar, and their shouts began to fade as the two outlaws were dragged to a saloon down the street.
“That man called Jackson. Is he a lawyer?” she asked Doc.
“Yes, but lawyer or not, his background is as much a mystery as most others around here.”
“What happens now, Dr. Wilson?”
Doc grinned ruefully. “A trial, if you want to call it that, will take place over at the saloon and the men will be taken to jail to await a hanging. That probably won’t take place until tomorrow or the next day. That gives people time to prepare the scaffold.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’ve never seen a hanging, and I don’t think I want to see this one.”
“Your choice. They aren’t pretty, that’s certain. By tomorrow you will have a room of your own and you can stay there during the hanging if you choose.”
Elizabeth leaned back in the rocker. “I think I will do just that.” She wondered at Mitch’s ability to be up and about already and at his strange sense of doing the right thing, combined with a seeming unconcern for the fact that he was sending two men to the gallows. “Who was that man who tried to defend that one outlaw?”
“That was Hugh Wiley’s brother, Sam.”
“Will he really try to get some kind of revenge against Mr. Brady?” she asked.
The doctor shrugged. “It’s a possibility. They’re all a bad bunch, but some men have a way of blustering bravery and vengeance when they really don’t intend to do a damn thing. I can’t think of one man in Alder who’d willingly go up against Mitch Brady.” He frowned and looked at her teasingly. “Are you worried about Mitch? Maybe you care a little too much?”
Elizabeth rose. “I only care because the man helped me. It’s nothing more than that.” She walked into the room where she’d spent the night and closed the door. She sat down on the cot and put her head in her hands. What had she gotten herself into? The last thing she wanted was this much attention. Worse, being around Mitch Brady created disturbing emotions. She worried that she was starting to care about the man, which went against every vow she’d made to herself upon leaving New York.
Seven
The so-called trial took hardly any longer than it took Elizabeth to repack what little she’d used overnight and twist her hair into a bun at the back of her head. By the time she’d secured the bun and attached a small hat to her head with a couple of large hat pins, Mitch was at the door again. “See if Miss Wainright is ready to leave,” he was telling Doc Wilson.
Elizabeth opened the door and faced Mitch. “I’m ready. And you can call me Elizabeth…both of you. I think the experiences of the last couple of days call for first names, since I intend to stay here in Alder for some time to come.”
Both men nodded.
“Actually, nobody calls me by my first name,” he told her. “It’s just Doc.”
Elizabeth nodded and glanced at Mitch, thinking how the man seemed to fill every inch of the room, not just because of his size but also because of the impact of his demeanor and attitude. “Can I call you Mitch, then, or do you prefer Sheriff Brady—or is it Marshal Brady?”
“It’s Sheriff, but call me Mitch.”
Elizabeth felt a bit too warm at the way his blue eyes scanned her. She hardly knew this man, and it irked her that she enjoyed the feeling of safety she experienced when he was near. “What about my things?” she asked.
Mitch approached, and she stepped aside as he went into the room and picked up one of her bags. “I’ll come back for the other two and that trunk,” he told her.
“You should send someone else after the other bags,” Elizabeth suggested. “You need to get cleaned up and get some more rest, and although you are obviously a very strong man, you are in no condition right now to be lugging the biggest, heaviest bag all the way to the boardinghouse, whether it’s six blocks away or one. Surely there is someone you can send to get them for me. After all, you know everyone in town.”
Mitch pushed his hat back slightly. “Much as I hate to admit it, I do need more rest. Let’s get you to Ma Kelly’s.” He carried the lighter bag and Elizabeth followed him to the door, turning to thank the doctor for boarding her overnight.
Doc Wilson smiled. “Ma’am, having you here has been a pure delight.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile as she left. Men like the doctor and Mitch Brady were a far cry from big-city men back in New York, and certainly vastly different from the one man she hoped to never see again. Men like Mitch and the doctor had an honesty about them, a warmth to their eyes—even Mitch, who, as she’d seen firsthand, could be completely ruthless. The only man she’d known well back in New York was also ruthless, even to the very good.
Mitch walked on the street side of the boardwalk, as though to shelter her from the activity beyond that point.
“Is the trial over?” Elizabeth asked him.
“Didn’t take more than a few minutes,” he answered as they walked. “Everybody knew they were guilty. The hanging will be in two days. If we didn’t need to build a gallows, it would be sooner.”
Elizabeth shivered. “Sounds gruesome.”
Mitch shrugged. “Not to this bunch. It’s the way things are done, ma’am…or I guess I should call you Elizabeth. Feels a little too familiar right now.”
“I assure you, it’s all right to use my first name.”
They came to two steps down and Mitch took hold of her elbow to descend the steps, cross an alley, and climb back onto the boardwalk. Men gawked and moved aside as they walked. Elizabeth suspected they kept their comments to themselves because Mitch Brady was with her.
“What will happen the day of the hanging?” she asked.
“Oh, there will be quite a crowd. Some workers will even come in from the mines, take a day off. The few wives who are here will prepare picnic baskets, and the few children around will be told they have to watch in order to learn a lesson about good and bad and that if they don’t walk the straight and narrow, they could also end up at the end of a noose.”
Elizabeth drew in her breath and stopped, looking up at him. “Children watch?”
Mitch grinned wryly. “Yup. Teaches them a lesson about obeying the law. Afterward there will be picnicking, and the whores will be kept busy, what with so many men in town. Pardon my bluntness, but you might as well know what life is like here and make sure you really want to make this your home for a while.”
He took her arm and they started walking again, past three saloons, a supply store, and a barber shop. Some of the buildings were obviously hastily built of raw wood, and most were no more than tents with stovepipes sticking through the tops. Piano music filtered outside, combined with men’s shouts and women’s laughter.
And will you visit the whores, too? she wondered. She couldn’t
help remembering how disappointed he’d been to find out she wasn’t a lady of the evening. Two gaudily dressed women with painted faces approached them, one giving Mitch a sly grin and a wink.
“Got a new girl, Mitch?” she asked.
“Hildy, this is Elizabeth Wainright, and she’s a proper lady,” Mitch answered.
Hildy, who Elizabeth guessed to be perhaps twenty, pursed her lips. “How boring!”
Both women giggled and nodded to Elizabeth. “Welcome to Alder, honey,” the other woman told her. She was much heavier than Hildy, her bosom billowing above her low-cut dress.
Hildy looked up at Mitch. “See you later, Mitch?”
“No.” Mitch kept hold of Elizabeth’s arm and led her past the women. “Sorry about that.”
“You don’t need to be sorry for anything. It’s not my business. They were friendly enough.”
“Oh, they’re friendly, all right.”
Elizabeth felt Mitch’s uneasiness as he led her down a couple more steps and turned to cross the street. “Watch out for horse dung,” he warned. They quickly walked across the churned-up dirt street and climbed up some steps in front of yet another saloon.
“The boardinghouse is just two doors down. And speaking of why you came here…” He paused, stopping to face her. “Why are you here? A lady like you alone in Alder just doesn’t make any sense. Are you married? Did you leave a husband behind?”
Elizabeth pulled away. “I thought you understood that I prefer to keep my reasons for being here to myself.”
Mitch set the bag down and folded his arms. Elizabeth couldn’t help noticing the muscles outlined under his shirtsleeves. “I know that, but you have to admit, someone like you doesn’t belong here. I’m sorry, but a woman pretty as you coming here alone and unattached is going to stir up curiosity…and trouble, which makes my job harder. I need to know what to tell people, because they’ll be asking.”
Elizabeth held his gaze, surprised at the concern in his amazingly blue eyes. “Tell them whatever you want. I’ll be fine. And to answer one question…no, I am not married and never have been. And I am here because I lost my mother and I needed to get away from things too familiar and from…from a rather bad situation I prefer not to discuss.”
“You could have gone to another city, a place more civilized. You could even have stayed in Virginia City.”
Elizabeth turned. “Enough questions.”
Mitch sighed and picked up her bag, and Elizabeth noticed him wince slightly. Perspiration dampened his forehead. “Mitch, you don’t look well. You got up and around much too soon.”
He led her to the front door of the boardinghouse, which was the only two-story building in town. “I’ll be all right.”
In spite of being two stories, the house didn’t look very big. Elizabeth guessed there couldn’t be more than four rooms for boarding. “Are you sure there will be a room for me here?”
“I already arranged it.” He stopped at the entrance before going inside. “Got any idea what you will do once you’re settled?”
Elizabeth was both irritated and touched that he seemed to care what would happen to her. “I would like to teach. Are there any children in this town?”
“A few. Most live out of town, closer to the placer mines where their fathers work along the creek. It would be hard to get them all together in one place every day. I’m guessing there are no more than three or four kids, plus a few here in town. Life in a place like this isn’t very well suited to normal family life. It’s also not well suited for a young, pretty, well-bred woman alone. You should get yourself a gun and learn to use it. I can help you there.”
“Doc Wilson and Spittin’ Joe told me the same thing.” Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “I need to think about all of that. You are throwing a lot at me all at once, and you really have no right to tell me what to do. I just got here and I barely know you, Mr. Brady. Please go home, wherever that is, and clean up and get some rest. I’ll be fine.”
“I have a right to tell you what to do because I’m the law here, and if you don’t watch out, you’ll cause more trouble for me than I can handle. At least lay low until after the hanging. After that I’ll take you to buy a gun and we’ll go outside of town and I’ll teach you to shoot.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Is that really necessary?”
A stern look came into his eyes. “Yes,” he answered.
Elizabeth was too tired and confused to argue. “Come see me the day after the hanging and we’ll talk about it.”
Mitch adjusted his hat again and opened the door to Ma Kelly’s place. He picked up Elizabeth’s bag and followed her inside. They entered a small parlor, and Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised at how tidy it was. Lace doilies decorated a coffee table and two smaller tables that held flowered oil lamps. Two rockers sat in front of a stone fireplace, and Elizabeth smelled fresh-baked bread.
A slender woman who looked old enough to be Elizabeth’s mother came down a hallway to greet them, her brown eyes sparkling at the sight of Mitch. “Well, you big lug, it’s about time you brought this young lady to a decent place where she can have her own room.” She turned to Elizabeth, pushing a strand of gray hair behind her ear. “And you must be Miss Wainright. I’m so sorry for what you went through getting here. Most of the men in this town are good-hearted and decent, but they’re a rough lot with no manners and no understanding of the word bath. I assure you that the kind who attacked your coach are not the norm here, but it’s still not a real safe place for a decent young lady alone.”
Elizabeth was getting irritated with the constant reminders about “a woman alone,” but she didn’t want to be rude to Ma Kelly.
“You’re safe here, honey,” the woman added. “Nobody will bother you.” An honest warmth filled the woman’s eyes, and she grasped Elizabeth’s hands as she talked. “I’m Ma Kelly. I hear you don’t want to be questioned about why you’re here, and that’s fine. Nobody knows why I’m here either, so we have a lot in common.” The woman winked. “I just made some fresh bread. Would you like some bread and butter with some tea?”
Elizabeth sighed with relief at finding a clean, decent, caring woman. “That sounds wonderful! I wasn’t hungry until I smelled that bread.”
Ma Kelly chuckled. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room, and Mitch can find somebody to bring over the rest of your things.” She turned to Mitch. “And you, young man, as soon as you arrange for this young lady’s belongings, you come back here and go to your room and get some sleep.”
Go to your room? “You live here?” Elizabeth asked Mitch.
Mitch grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m gone much more than I’m here. I do have a room here, but I sleep at the jail a lot and I’m often out on the road patrolling, when I know gold shipments or payroll shipments are coming and going. Sometimes I’m gone a week or more at a time.” He set down her bag. “Does it bother you that I live here, too?”
Elizabeth felt herself blushing. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Mitch keeps to himself,” Ma Kelly told her. “And he’s right—he’s gone more than he’s here. Be glad he lives here, because him being around means you and I are doggone safe. Mitch’s room is down the hall there. Yours is upstairs. Come with me. You can unload your bags and your hat and gloves and come down to the kitchen for that bread and tea.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth looked up at Mitch, not sure she liked the idea of his sleeping in the same house. Was that why he’d brought her here? That part of her that held no trust for men was battling with the fact that she liked the thought of his being close. She’d been determined to remain completely to herself and make friends with no one, especially a lawman who apparently saw everything in black and white. If a man did something wrong, he was hanged for it, and that didn’t bother Mitch Brady one bit.
“I’ll go get the rest of your bags,” Mitch told her.
Elizabeth noticed he looked a little pale. She felt a deep concern that surprised her. She looked down, picking up her bag. “You needn’t go out of your way for me,” she told Mitch, meeting his gaze again. “Heaven knows you have enough on your hands, keeping order among that bunch outside.” She frowned. “And for heaven’s sake, please clean up and get some rest. You can’t handle people like that Sam Wiley when you’re still weak from loss of blood.” She turned to Ma Kelly. “I’ll see my room now, if you don’t mind.”
More anxious to put some distance between her and Mitch Brady than she cared to admit, Elizabeth followed Ma Kelly down the hall. It was then that they both heard a crashing sound. They looked back to see Mitch on his knees, a small table overturned. He’d apparently grabbed it to keep from falling, and both man and table went down together.
“Mitch!” Ma Kelly ran to him and Elizabeth followed after quickly setting down her bag. Both women tried to help him up.
“I knew it!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “He never should have gotten out of bed so soon! He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Come on, Mitch. Let’s get you to your bed.”
“I’ll be all right,” he objected, his voice weak.
“No, you won’t! Come on, now, let’s get you to your room.”
Mitch leaned on both women as they led him to a room at the end of the hall. Mitch fell into the bed and rolled onto his back. Elizabeth noticed fresh blood on his shirt.
“My God, he’s bleeding again! Go get Doc Wilson, Ma.”
“Of course.” Ma left but came right back with some towels. “Press these against the wound till Doc gets here.” She hurried out again, and Elizabeth leaned over Mitch, pulling his shirt out from the waist of his pants to expose the wound. She pressed the towels against it, glad that at least today he wasn’t wearing so many cartridge belts she couldn’t get to the wound.
“You don’t…need to—”
“Yes, I do. You saved me from a fate worse than death yesterday. The least I can do is try to stop this bleeding till Doc gets here.” Elizabeth saw a strange look in his eyes, something bright and difficult to read.
Desperate Hearts Page 6