Nissa (The Widows of Wildcat Ridge Book 3)

by Zina Abbott

  H

  al and Buck found room for two men at the end of the bar down in the red light district. The place did not look like much and smelled of stale smoke and body odor. However, it possessed a sturdy bar and decent footrail. Each man ordered a beer.

  Hal screwed his face after taking the first sip. He suspected it had been watered down.

  “Almost not worth drinking, is it?”

  Hal glanced over at Buck, who had made the statement, for once showing enough discretion to keep the volume of his voice low. “You said it. Think I’ll finish this and then move on. This doesn’t encourage me to ask for seconds.”

  “Take a peek at that bunch over there. Kinda look out of place in this town, don’t they?”

  Hal narrowed his eyes as he studied the trio sitting at a table in the far corner that Buck had pointed out to him. All three appeared trail-worn with clothes either in need of a wash or replacing. The way the two on either side seemed to lean towards and defer to the man in the center with a snakeskin for a hatband led Hal to guess he was the leader. “You got a point. Cattlemen can be a little rough, but they’re beyond that. Looks like some trouble-makers to me. Don’t like to accuse a man of a crime he hasn’t committed or may never have any intention of committing. Still, my guess is they aren’t up to any good.”

  “Why do you suppose they’re here? It’s not like this place has much. It’s barely hanging on.”

  Hal turned to view Buck full in the face, but he kept his voice low. “No, it doesn’t. What it does have is a horse auction going on in a few days. With hardly any men in town, but mostly women—even a woman as town marshal—there might be those who figure the auction is an easy mark. Could be they’re here early for the same reason we are—check out the horseflesh and see what their options are. There’s a good possibility they aim to get their hands on some horses without putting out cash for them, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. You figure we ought to say something to Boss?”

  “When we get back will be soon enough. I paid for this beer and intend to finish it.” Hal turned his attention towards the center of the room. “Sit tight and watch what you say, Buck. I think we’re about to have company.”

  Buck glanced over in time to see the tough with the snakeskin hatband shove up to the bar, lean forward on one forearm and stare intently at him and Hal. The man between him and hatband picked up his drink and left.

  “You boys appeared to be looking mighty hard our direction. You got a problem with something?”

  Hal slowly shook his head. “No problem. Just admiring your hatband. Trying to figure out what kind of snake it came from.”

  The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth with two next to his front teeth missing. “Rattlesnake. That’s why they call me “Snake”—always keep me a rattlesnake hatband. One wears out, I shoot another rattler and skin it for a new one. Rattlers are good eating, too.” The man lost his smile. “I shoot a lot of things that get in my way.”

  His words held a double meaning. Hal nodded. “Good to know. Appreciate you coming up close enough for us to see it’s a rattlesnake skin. No need for us to be curious any longer.”

  “Good idea. Healthier that way.” The man rapped his knuckles on the top of the bar and turned away.

  Once the man walked out of earshot, Buck turned to Hal. “You ready?”

  “I am, but you might not be. You like them with big bosoms, don’t you?”

  g

  Confused, Buck stared at his partner then almost jumped as he felt someone slide a foot along his shin and place a soft arm around the back of his neck. He smelled the cloying scent of cheap perfume before he turned and looked into the eyes belonging to a smiling woman with a painted face and henna-tinted hair whom he figured to be at least a decade older than him.

  “You boys having a good time?”

  Buck looked to Hal for support, but the man stared forward into space as if he did not see the saloon girl who had attached herself like a leech to him. Buck knew he was on his own.

  Buck turned back with a smile. “Yes, ma’am, we are, considering we’re in sort of a rush and all. We figured we come in for a quick beer but were just getting ready to leave.”

  The woman rolled her body over and wedged it between the bar and Buck’s right hip. She dropped her smile. “Don’t let those characters scare you off from this place, honey. We usually don’t get that kind in here. This is a real nice place. Give me a chance to prove it. Why don’t you come with me upstairs and let me show you?”

  Buck glanced down at the rounded breasts bulging over the top of her corset and gown, no doubt shoved into his face for the purpose of enticing him to want to bury his face in the middle of the soft flesh. A vision of that sassy, modestly-dressed Hilaina Dodd with her slender, but well-shaped, form popped in his mind and killed any potential desire to spend time alone with this woman.

  “Ma’am, I’m sure you got a right fine place here. But you see, my partner and I have errands we need to tend to so we can meet up with our boss in time for supper. We already were straining the clock by taking a few minutes to grab a beer. We got to get going. You have a real nice day, all right?”

  The woman released her grip on Buck and turned away. “It’s that way, is it? Well, come back when you can. Ask for Maude.”

  The two men left the saloon and walked toward the main part of town. Buck looked over and glowered at the smirk on Hal’s face. Buck half-turned as they walked and shook his finger. “You say one word—one word—about that woman, and I’ll lay you out flat or die trying.”

  Hal’s smirk widened into a full grin. “Not saying a thing, Buck, except I thought you handled her very well. I’m just grateful she gave up with you and didn’t try to come after me.” Hal turned to face Buck. “Two women in one day after you, Buck. That has to be a record.”

  Buck turned and faced forward. “Yeah, well. This town is full of women, what with these widows and all.”

  “Neither one of them after you was a widow, not that I could tell. That floozy in the saloon was too experienced to be a new widow.”

  “So? You trying to tell me there isn’t one of these widows in town that have caught your eye?”

  Hal shook his head. “No. No widows in town have caught my eye.”

  Buck studied Hal, who had spoken his denial softly. Too softly, Buck realized. Something was going on with Hal, but the man had always been one to hold things close to the chest. It would take some doing to pry it out of him.

  Chapter Ten

  B

  uck and Hal had almost reached the front door of the Ridge Hotel when Buck turned to Hal. “Hal, you figure after we tell Boss about the three in the bar, we ought to hunt up the town marshal and warn her? Even though I don’t know how much she can do, her being a woman and all, it might be good for her to know to keep an eye out for that bunch.”

  “We’ll tell Boss and ask what he thinks.”

  The pair entered the front door of the hotel, intent on going up to Dallin’s room to see if he was in.

  Hal glanced into the lobby long enough to see Dallin sitting in a chair staring at the ceiling. He smacked Buck’s arm with the back of his hand and jerked his head in Dallin’s direction.

  Dallin rose out of his chair. “About time you boys showed up. Ready to eat? Still early, yet, but maybe we should beat the crowd.”

  Buck furtively looked around the lobby. “Ah, Boss, there’s some things Hal and I think you better know about. Maybe we could go up to your room for a few minutes before we go eat?”

  Dallin looked over at Hal, who nodded. Without a word, Dallin started towards the stairs with the other two men following. After the three were in his room and the door locked, he turned to them. “What’s going on?”

  Buck gestured to Hal, who ended up telling all they had learned at the saloon. As they finished, Dallin grinned at Buck. “So you had a well-seasoned painted lady practically climb into your lap, did you?”

  “Probably wou
ld have, if I’d been sitting at a table. We were ready to come back to find you, so I wasn’t interested.”

  Hal grinned at Buck and teased him. “Maybe you weren’t interested because you already had another cute little gal on your mind.”

  “What? No!” Buck threw both hands up in denial. “She was pretty enough, but that little woman talks way too much. I almost started whistling again.” At the confused looks of the other men, Buck elaborated. “She said her pa used to whistle just so she’d hush.”

  Hal, his expression one of bemusement, grunted.

  Dallin shook his head at the antics of the pair then he grew serious. “Sounds like the three men you had the run-in with are the same that I saw ride into town earlier this afternoon. I was down talking to the lady who does laundry and told her I’d watch her water while she took her children to the creek so the boy could float this stick. Next thing I knew, she started calling for him, and I could hear the panic in her voice. Ended up going out to talk to those three while she got her children away. They looked like trouble. A rattlesnake hatband, you say?”

  “Yep. He’s mighty proud of it, goes by the nickname of Snake, even. He don’t take kindly to folks studying him and his hatband too hard, though. Just ask Hal.”

  Dallin nodded. “Well, I didn’t like the way one of the men talked to Mrs. Stillwell. It’s a couple of days yet until the auction, which leaves them plenty of time to look over the layout of the town and stir up some mischief, if that’s what they’re here for.”

  “You already learned her name, huh? We were watching you through the window a few seconds before we took off, Boss. Looked to us like you were already keeping an eye on her then.”

  “Buck…” His voice full of warning, Hal shook his head. Then he turned to Dallin. “Don’t pay him any mind, Boss. We all know you have a soft spot for kids. After all, you took Buck in.”

  “What? Wait a minute. That boy down there was little. I wasn’t no kid like that when I started at the Grassy Fork.”

  “Acted like it sometimes.”

  Dallin suppressed a laugh. “Boys, that’s enough. This could be nothing, but then again, we could find ourselves dealing with a serious situation. If they’re after horses, they may take the easy route and go for the horses of those of us already in town before the auction. Unless the livery owner already has guards staying at his place, I’m going to ask you boys to take turns sleeping at the livery close to our three.”

  Buck shrugged in resignation. “I might as well be the one, Boss. Hal already called the bed and told me I had the floor. I’ll probably be more comfortable sleeping on hay than the braided rug in our room.”

  “Thanks, Buck, glad that’s settled. I think your idea of letting the town marshal know about these men is a good idea. Let’s find her office and tell her then go to dinner. Mrs. Ames at the front desk says she no longer keeps the dining room open, although it’s where they’ll hold the pre-auction dance.”

  Buck rubbed his hands together. “I can go for that, Boss. Tell Hal he’s going to have to spell me at the livery part of the time that night.”

  “We’ll work it out. Until then, Mrs. Ames suggested we eat next door at the Crystal Café. The jail is several doors down past that. And men? Those three galoots are probably settled in the saloon for the night, but there’s no promise they’ll stay there until the auction. The more I think about what you told me, and how Mrs. Stillwell might be targeted by at least the one man from that gang, I think after tonight I’ll ask her to join us for dinner. I hope you’re all right with that and can behave yourself around her. Buck?”

  “What? Why are you asking only me? I won’t embarrass you when you’re with a woman. Even I know better than that. In fact, I’ll make a point to make myself scarce, so you spend time with your pretty widow all you want.”

  Hal watched the interchange in silence. He looked away as he considered something then he turned to Dallin. “Boss, what do you know about banks? I know they close to the public around three o’clock, but what time do they shut down for good and everyone goes home?”

  Dallin folded his arms and studied Hal. “You think they might be here for a bank robbery?”

  Hal hesitated. That was not the reason he asked, but a bank robbery was worthy of consideration. “Possible. With all these people in town, the bank might have more money on hand than usual. Just thought it might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on the bank, especially during the times the safe might be unlocked.”

  “Well, that’s the marshal’s concern. We’ll mention that to her, too. You both ready to go?”

  The three walked down the stairs and outside. Once the door closed, Hal turned to the other two. “You don’t need all three of us to talk to the marshal. Buck knows everything I do about what happened in the saloon. I have something to check on then I’ll meet you at the café.

  Chapter Eleven

  H

  is arms folded, Hal leaned against the wall of the laundry shed facing Chestnut Street closest to the corner of Front Street. He glanced at the bridge crossing the creek to the east, but out of the corner of his eye, he focused on the front door of Crane Bank. An earlier stroll past the building’s windows had assured him people still worked inside, even if the bank was closed to customers.

  The short, well-dressed man he had identified as Mortimer Crane wore a stylish derby as he exited the bank and locked the door. He paused on the boardwalk long enough to light a cigar. As the man began to survey his surroundings, Hal turned and walked around the corner out of sight. He waited several minutes and returned.

  The street, now silent and empty, greeted him. Hal slowly walked to the back of the hotel property and ducked behind the fence that hid the necessaries from public view. He stood on his tiptoes to look down the alley between the two rows of buildings but saw no one. After he walked over by the front of the mercantile, he caught a glimpse of the man, his back to him, a block away. Hal had resumed his position by the laundry shed and waited for the next one to leave the bank.

  His patience was rewarded when two people, a man with a short-crowned derby and a woman carrying a dark gray parasol, exited the bank. The man locked the door behind them, nodded to the woman, and walked east in front of the bank towards Hal. From across the street, Hal watched the male teller, who never glanced his way, turn south on Front Street.

  Confident the man would pay no attention to him, Hal turned to walk west towards the mercantile. Miss Birdie Templeton, her back to him, still on the same side of the street as the bank, clutched her open black parasol in front of her to ward off the sun that sat at an angle to shine directly into her eyes as she continued walking west. Hal jogged catty-corner across the dusty street and leapt onto the boardwalk several feet behind his quarry. Ahead, he saw the blacksmith shop and the livery where the Grassy Fork horses had been brought after getting them off the train.

  At the sound, Birdie Templeton, her eyes wide with surprise, spun around to see who joined her on the boardwalk. She sucked in an exclamation as she recognized Hal. “What are you doing here?”

  Next, she turned to look down Gold Street that ran in front of the mercantile. She used her free hand to slide her spectacles down her nose as she squinted to study the boardwalks on either side.

  Hal followed her gaze. The man who had left the bank first appeared as a speck in the distance. They both watched as he entered a building. He turned toward Birdie. “Mr. Crane is gone. Hopefully, he’ll keep himself busy for a while. I don’t think you need to worry about him for the evening.”

  Birdie released a visible sigh of relief and continued walking. “You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Winters,...oh, I mean, Summers, isn’t it? Why have you sought me out now? The dance isn’t for four more days.”

  Hal tamped down his disappointment the woman had struggled to remember his name. “Yes, Mr. Summers. Hal Summers. Since I met you at the bank, I had a run-in with some men who acted like they might be up to no good. After telling my boss about them,
he shared that it sounded like the same bunch that harassed the laundress who works next to the hotel. I came to walk you safely home.”

  “Walk me safely…Mr. Summers, Thank you for your offer, but I assure you, I do not have far to walk. I have walked safely home from the bank for years.” Birdie nervously glanced around before turning back to Hal. “It is important that there is not even the appearance of a man taking an interest in me. I…I don’t mean to imply that is why you are here, but…I can’t risk my job at the bank. If you’ll excuse me…” Birdie turned and continued walking.

  Keeping his distance, Hal questioned her. “How would my escorting you home risk your job, Miss Templeton? Are women bank tellers in the same position as women teachers—they aren’t allowed to associate or be seen with men, because those that hired them are afraid they’ll fall in love and run out on their jobs to get married?”

  Birdie stopped and turned to face Hal, who also stopped walking. She blinked several times as she worked her mouth while she struggled to find the right words. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…not many men will hire women to work as bank tellers. They think of it as a man’s job, not suitable for women, and not something women are capable of.”

  “May I interrupt long enough to assure you I don’t agree? I thought you handled my banking business quite well.”

  “Thank you. Fortunately, the bank manager took a chance on me, and I have worked hard to prove my worth. But Mr. Crane objected to me being hired, you see. He occasionally threatens to bring in a male teller from Salt Lake City or Evanston. He usually looks for women to work in his other establishments like…well, I’d rather not discuss the nature of those businesses. He has several in different towns, and he likes to move the women around for…ah…I don’t really want to know why. I only know I would never…” Birdie, her mouth still open, sucked in her breath as a flush of embarrassment crept up her neck. She glanced at Hal. “I apologize. This is completely inappropriate for me to speak of.” She faced forward, tipped her parasol with its flapping ruffled edge to shade her face from the sun once more and resumed walking.