by Jo Goodman
Jarret jerked his chin in Jolene's direction. "Why are you speaking of him in the past tense?"
"Because he's dead." She glanced at Rennie. "I'm sorry, Rennie, but that's the word in all the papers that come to Echo Falls. Rocky Mountain News carried it on the front page. It was quite a story."
"I know," Rennie said. "My sister Michael wrote it."
Jolene's forehead furrowed as she raised her eyebrows. "Now you're makin' no kind of sense."
"You've got that right," Jarret said. "Rennie, what are you talking about? Is Jay Mac dead or isn't he?"
Rennie's eyes lowered. She stared at her hands. Her fingertips were pressing whitely against the cup she held. "It depends on who you ask," she said softly. "Michael believes he's dead. She doesn't want him to be, but she can't convince herself otherwise. Ethan says Jay Mac probably couldn't have survived the wreck. Mary Francis has accepted it. Skye and Maggie, too. Mother's in mourning, but she still doesn't believe it's true. It's for her that I had to come." She paused a beat then admitted, her voice a mere thread of sound, "And for me. We both need to know what happened."
Jarret looked to Jolene for more of the answer. "What did the papers report?"
"Jay Mac Worth was on the train that wrecked near the Iron Ridge Pass a few weeks back."
"Six weeks," Rennie said. "It was six weeks ago. December sixth." She raised her eyes to Jarret. "You didn't know?"
He shook his head. "I never heard anything. Not about the wreck. Certainly not about Jay Mac."
Jolene's chestnut eyes darted between the two of them as she went on. "Sixty people were killed in the wreck, including all the crew except one porter, I think. The train jumped the track at some place called—"
"Juggler's Jump." Rennie and Jarret spoke at the same time.
"I know the place," Jarret said when Rennie gave him a questioning look. "It's a dangerous curve, and there's no place but down from there. I'm sorry, Rennie."
He said it as if he meant it, and he said it as if Jay Mac were certainly dead. Rennie shook her head. "His body's never been found," she said. "Ethan traveled from Denver to direct the search and couldn't find my father's body. Everyone but Jay Mac was accounted for."
"There could be good reason for that," Jolene said quietly. "This country's wild, Rennie, and unpredictable."
"My brother-in-law said the same thing," she said.
Jarret's tone was blunt. He could not spare her pain and have her come to her senses. "You should have listened to Ethan. He knows this country. He wasn't—"
"He says you know it better." There was a challenge in Rennie's voice. She had not come so far to be turned away easily. "When I wrote to Ethan and Michael and told them what I intended, Ethan said you were the person I needed to see."
"And now that you're seeing me?"
"I want to hire you, Mr. Sullivan. I want you to take me to Juggler's Jump and help me find my father."
Jolene was watching Jarret carefully. He looked as if he was regretting leaving his bottle at the bar. She was not surprised by his reply.
"I'm not for hire," he said tersely.
"But—"
Jarret got up from the table. "Forget it, Miss Dennehy. I'm not interested." He left the kitchen before she could get in another word.
Jolene sighed and looked at Rennie curiously. "Did you really think he would help you?"
Rennie pushed her plate away. "I thought he would take the money. He has before."
"Doesn't look like he wants it this time. Look, honey, he's probably just tryin' to save you the heartache and the money."
"He doesn't care about my heart."
"He doesn't care all that much about money."
Rennie was skeptical. Jarret Sullivan was a bounty hunter. If that didn't entail a serious interest in money, then Rennie couldn't imagine what did. He had accepted ten thousand dollars from Jay Mac to interfere in her life. He wasn't merely interested in money. He was greedy. She assumed her mistake in dealing with him was not naming the amount she was willing to pay. "Where has he gone?" she asked.
Jolene shrugged. "I don't rightly know. Upstairs, maybe. Or back to his cabin. He has a little place on the outskirts of town. Won it in a poker game a few months ago." She shook her head as she read what was on Rennie's mind. "I don't advise going after him now. He's got a sore head for one thing, and he likes his privacy for another. Give him some time to think about your offer."
"I don't have time," Rennie said. "You said yourself that snow's coming this way. All trace of my father's trail could be lost if I don't start out now." Dismissing Jolene's advice, Rennie grabbed her coat and ran after Jarret.
Duffy Cedar was the saloon's sole customer. As soon as he saw Rennie come out of the kitchen, he knew who she was looking for. He lifted his glass of whiskey and pointed toward the street.
Rennie shrugged into her coat on her way out the door. She saw Jarret walking toward the livery and called to him. When he didn't hear her, or pretended not to, Rennie raised her skirts and ran after him. She caught up to him in front of Henderson's Mercantile.
She reached for his arm and brushed his coat sleeve. "Mr. Sullivan, please have the decency to stop while I talk to you."
He did stop. So suddenly, in fact, that Rennie nearly barreled into him. He made no attempt to steady her as she rocked on her feet. "What is it you want?" he asked with icy impatience.
"I've gone out of my way to find you," she said. "The least you could do is hear me out. I'm prepared to offer you fifty percent more to find my father than he offered you to stop my wedding."
"Fifteen thousand dollars?"
"That's right." Had she piqued his interest?
"Go home, Miss Dennehy."
Rennie rocked again on her feet as if hit a second time. He may as well have said "Go to hell." It was delivered with the same venom. "I'm going to Juggler's Jump," she said. "With or without you, I'm going to find what's become of my father."
"Without me." He started to walk away.
"Twenty thousand dollars."
Now he did say it. "Go to hell."
Rennie didn't try to follow him. She waited until he had disappeared into the livery; then she returned to Bender's Saloon. Jolene was waiting for her.
"He didn't change his mind?" asked Jolene.
Rennie shook her head. "You were right about that." She glanced around. "Where's Mr. Cedar?"
"Under the table."
"Too much drink?"
"See for yourself. He's under the table."
Rennie's attention shifted from the seat Duffy had occupied to the area beneath the table. Duffy was flat on his back, eyes closed, the empty bottle of watered-down whiskey beside him. His chest rose abruptly as he snored. "I suppose there will be no help from that quarter," she said, disgusted.
"What do you mean?"
"If Mr. Sullivan won't help me, then I have to find someone who will."
"You're not going to find anyone to set out this afternoon. There's not that many fools in Echo Falls. Maybe not in all of Colorado. Not with the blizzard that's comin' this way."
Rennie took off her coat and folded it over her arm. "What am I supposed to do, then, Jolene?"
She shrugged. "What most any of us do at times like this. Wait."
Waiting was not what Rennie did best, but she didn't share that with Jolene. "Could you show me my room?" she asked.
"Certainly. It's just about time for everyone else to start risin' around here. That's as good a time as any to make yourself scarce."
Rennie's dressing room at home was bigger than the room Jolene showed her. It didn't matter. It had a bed, and that was enough to recommend it. When Jolene left to find Nick Bender and explain about the new boarder, Rennie unpacked a few toiletries from her valise and laid them on top of the pine chest of drawers. Tilting the cracked mirror on top to an angle that served her, Rennie removed the pins from her hair and brushed it out. When tears came to her eyes she pretended it was the hard bristle brush against her scal
p that caused them. The corner of her mind that knew better would not reveal itself.
Rennie removed her dress and shoes and lay on the bed. The mattress was soft and sagged in the middle. The down comforter was warm. She turned on her side and stared out the window. Her vision blurred again as the first snowflakes fell. She drifted asleep thinking about someone other than her father for the first time in six weeks.
* * *
The snow lasted two days. Rennie had never seen anything like it. With little to do but watch it fall she grew to know its every tumbling whim. It came in waves on the back of the wind, gusting and swirling, obliterating the mountain peaks, the limber pines, and finally Echo Falls itself. A rope was strung from the back of the saloon to the privy so that boarders and patrons wouldn't lose their way during one of nature's calls. Miners carried great clumps of snow on their boots and created a small flurry inside the saloon when they shook themselves off.
Bender's was busy. Miners who couldn't find their way to the adits and shafts had no such difficulty making their way to the saloon. For two days, in accordance with Jolene's wishes, Rennie avoided the noisy activity below stairs. On the morning of her third day in Echo Falls Rennie had had enough. She went downstairs to escape the boredom and instead found the means of escaping Echo Falls. Clarence Vestry and Tom Brighton would not have been given a second glance in New York. But this was Colorado. Rennie did more than give them a second glance. She hired them. By afternoon she and her guides were headed for Juggler's Jump.
* * *
"Why didn't you come sooner?" Jarret demanded, slipping on his gun belt. He pulled it tight, strapping the holster to his leg. He tossed Jolene his saddlebag. "Make yourself useful. There are some canned goods in the cupboard over there. You'll find jerky in the larder. I will pack my clothes and make a bedroll."
Jolene almost threw the saddlebag back at him. She didn't because she cared what happened to Rennie. "You have no right to speak to me that way," she said sharply. She went to the small kitchen area of Jarret's cabin while he climbed to the loft. "I came as fast as I could. It's nearly two miles, you know, and most of it through drifts as deep as my hip."
Jarret snorted at her exaggeration. "If you hadn't let her go you..." He left the rest unsaid.
"It's not like I had any say in it. She didn't come to me, did she, and ask for my help the way she did yours? If I had known what she was up to, don't you think I'd have tried to stop her? I warned her no one in Echo Falls was foolish enough to take her out to the Jump in this weather. I didn't think I had to tell her about thieves like Tom and Clarence."
"I hope you're packing my bags," he yelled down, gathering his clothes and blankets.
"I'm workin' as fast as I can. You want flour? Sugar?"
"Everything. There's an extra bag down there somewhere. Pack it. I'm setting out with two horses. I'll take my Zilly and one of Duffy's. He hasn't left town yet, has he?"
"No, but I don't know if he's going to give up one of his horses."
"He won't have any choice." He clambered down the ladder, bedroll and clothes under his arm. He dropped everything on the square kitchen table and then went for his Winchester carbine and ammunition.
"How far do you think they'll take her?" asked Jolene.
It was something Jarret was not going to dwell on. He added cartridges to the bags Jolene was packing, saying nothing.
Jolene shrank from the look on Jarret's face. Tom Brighton and Clarence Vestry weren't ambitious enough to travel far with Rennie as a millstone around their necks. Jarret had to know that. They would rob her at their earliest opportunity. Whatever else they might do had made Jarret's eyes colder than anything Jolene had faced on her way to his cabin.
Chapter 7
Rennie was tired. The air was so cold it stung her lungs and so thin each breath was an effort. Pride kept her from complaining; fear kept her from dismounting. From time to time Tom and Clarence would glance back at her and exchange a look that was enough to keep Rennie stiff and upright in her saddle. Only a few hours out of Echo Falls, Rennie was willing to admit that she had made a mistake. She hadn't the least idea what to do about it.
Not once during the trek from Denver to Echo Falls had Rennie been frightened for herself in Duffy Cedar's company. On the train and in the wild he had been patient with her, respectful but not obsequious. His eyes had never strayed over her in an insulting manner. Rennie reminded herself that she hadn't chosen Duffy as a guide, Ethan had. He had known something of the man's character and reputation before letting her go off with him. When Ethan and Michael realized they couldn't stop her from making the journey, Ethan had done what he could to make it a safe one.
It was clear to her that Jarret felt no such responsibility. When he turned her down he must have known that wasn't the end of it, yet he hadn't cared enough to make a recommendation. Duffy Cedar, after finding the drinking end of a bottle, was in no condition to accompany her further. It had been up to Rennie to find another escort and protector to Juggler's Jump.
She'd thought she had found two.
Tom Brighton and Clarence Vestry had not been overly eager once they heard her offer. That would have made Rennie wary. They'd pointed out the dangers, much as Duffy and Jarret had, and Ethan before them. They'd refused to travel with her trunks and pack mules and recommended if she was serious about going, then she had to be willing to travel with less gear and fewer comforts. Rennie was willing to do whatever they suggested to gain their services.
Now it was borne home to her that she had misjudged her companions. Jolene would have probably advised her against going, but then Jolene had been privately occupied with a customer when Rennie had sought her advice. Instead of waiting, Rennie had left her a note. It bothered her now. After all Jolene had done, she deserved more than a hastily scrawled thanks and farewell.
The tips of Rennie's fingers were cold even through her fur-lined leather gloves. Her hat tilted toward the front of her head so that a fringe of dark fur bordered her brows. Like her companions she wore a woolen scarf wrapped around her ears, nose, and throat for additional protection against the wind. They wore their guns at their sides. She carried hers in her pocket.
Her thoughts were spinning in so many different directions that she didn't hear Tom call for a halt. It was when she saw him raise his hand that she pulled up on the reins. Rennie lowered her scarf long enough to ask, "Why are we stopping here?"
"I reckon we come far enough for one night."
Rennie frowned. Tom was already dismounting. He was a lean, wiry man with a swaggering spring in his step. Trudging through the snow lessened his bounce, but not much. "I don't understand," she called after him. "We haven't been traveling long. There's still daylight left."
Clarence followed Tom's lead. He led his horse to the shelter of some limber pines and hitched the mare there. Clarence was shorter than Tom, compact and stocky. He moved slowly and stiffly but seemed to accomplish his tasks in the same time as his friend. "Not enough daylight to get to the next sheltered pass," he said. "We know where we are now. This is a good place to stop. In a half hour we could be caught in the open."
Tom removed his pack from his horse. "You can't stay in the saddle all night," he said to Rennie. "We told you it might be better to wait 'til tomorrow, but you insisted on leavin' today."
She had insisted. She had also thought they would travel longer before seeking shelter. "You led me to believe we could ride at night," she reminded them.
"Don't recall sayin' that," Tom said. He looked at Clarence. "You?"
"Don't recall it."
Rennie sat on her horse awhile longer, then accepted she had no choice but to dismount. They had already removed their packs and saddles and were rubbing down their horses. Beneath her, the cinnamon mare was getting restless.
She felt aching and cold to the marrow of her bones. It was difficult to get her footing in the snow as she headed for the same shelter of trees as her companions. Her boots slipped easily on the
crusty path marked by Tom and Clarence. She didn't ask for help with her saddle and supplies, and she wasn't offered any. Duffy had been more solicitous during their travels, assisting her with some of the heavier work. Somewhat to her regret, Tom and Clarence seemed to have believed her when she said she could care for herself. It wasn't the time to tell them differently.
Rennie worked swiftly and with purpose, pleasantly surprised to discover that she was more competent now than she had been when she started her journey. Duffy's patient teaching was serving her in good stead. When she had finished caring for Albion she went in search of kindling while Tom and Clarence cleared an area for the fire and sleeping. She noticed that when she returned the conversation between the two men ended abruptly, as if she had been the topic. Her heart hammered a bit more loudly in her chest. She dropped the kindling and began building the fire. Without being obvious she checked her pocket for the Smith and Wesson revolver. The shape and weight of it was reassuring. Using the gun was the one qualm she didn't have.
Rennie hunkered down before the fire, warming her hands without removing her gloves. Her skirts were draped around her, and she patiently attempted to dry the sodden hem until Tom asked her to make the coffee.
"I've been told mine's bitter," she said, taking the pot and grounds.
Tom grunted. "As long as it's hot."
"Hot I can do." She frowned as her comment initiated another significant glance between the two men.
Clarence took a small skillet from his pack and laid it over the fire. He dropped some bacon fat in, and when it was sizzling he added beans and pork. Each time there was a lull in the wind the aroma hung in the air.
Behind her scarf, Rennie's mouth watered. She got her tin plate and mug and served herself after the men had taken their share. She was a little surprised to see that there was still some left in the pan. Clarence had prepared more than they needed. Duffy had taught her it was better to have too little at any one meal than to waste a mouthful. One never knew what the future held.
Rennie sat on her saddle and ate slowly, enjoying the warmth of every bite. The coffee was nearly hot enough to burn her mouth but even that felt good. "Will we start again at first light?" she asked them.