Indigo Blue

by Catherine Anderson

  After Indigo left, Jake stood and looked after her for a moment. First the men at the mine, and now the local women. Who would shun her next?

  “I suppose tongues are buzzing in Jacksonville by now as well,” he muttered.

  Elmira held out her hand for the gloves so she could check the price tag. “No doubt. We got a wagonload of supplies in from there yesterday morning. Harry, the driver, always catches up on the latest over at the saloon. I’m sure he didn’t waste any time spreading the news.”

  Jake clenched his teeth. When something like this happened in Portland, an honorable man set things right as quickly as possible. Despite the Wolfs’ forbearance, Jake doubted things were done differently here.

  Knowing what he ought to do and doing it were two different things, however. Marriage? The thought brought him up short. He felt certain Emily would recover quickly enough if he broke his engagement to her. Hell, she’d probably be married to someone else within the year. It wasn’t as if theirs was a love match. But he couldn’t for the life of him imagine how he could make a life with Indigo work. She belonged here in Wolf’s Landing, with the wind playing in her lovely hair and the sun kissing her skin. Eventually, he would return to Portland. His family was there, his obligations were there, his home was there. Indigo would shrivel up and die if he carted her off to the city.

  As he fished in his pocket for his money clip, Jake smiled to himself, remembering that first night up on the mountain when he had held Indigo in his arms. If he were brutally honest, he had to admit that the thought of marrying her wasn’t totally repugnant. She appealed to him in a way he couldn’t define. He could almost taste how sweet her dusky- rose lips would be, how silken her skin. A man could suffer far worse fates.

  Jerking his thoughts into line, Jake paid for his gloves and left the store. He’d be wise to keep his mind on the practical. Only a fool allowed his reason to take second seat to his urges.

  Chapter 8

  HER CHEEKS STILL AFIRE WITH HUMILIATION, Indigo jostled her packages to ease a cramp in her shoulder. She kept her head bent. If people were staring at her from inside the shops, she didn’t want to know it. It was one thing to be set apart because she dressed and behaved differently. That was her choice. But to be scorned? She felt so alone. Wolf’s Landing had been founded by her father. It was where she belonged. Yet suddenly the town felt hostile and alien to her.

  It wasn’t her fault that Lobo had been shot. Tears burned beneath her eyelids. The slats in the boardwalk blurred.

  “Indigo?”

  The sweet voice calling her name brought her head up. She turned to look at the second story of the Lucky Nugget. Franny’s window stood open. The young prostitute leaned out and waved, her neatly coiffed blond hair flashing in the sunlight.

  “I heard about Lobo. I just wanted to say how sorry I am.”

  Indigo glanced uneasily over her shoulder. Not many people knew about her and Franny’s friendship. Indigo wasn’t concerned so much for herself as for Franny. The fine, upstanding citizens in Wolf’s Landing would run the girl out of town if they learned she had dared to speak to a decent young woman. Not that Indigo was considered decent anymore.

  “Thank you, Franny. I appreciate that.”

  “I said prayers for you last night. I don’t know if they’ll count, but I said them anyway.”

  “Franny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop thinking badly of yourself? Haven’t you read the story of Mary Magdalene yet? Of course your prayers count.”

  “Did they help?”

  Indigo smiled her first sincere smile of the day. She knew Franny would have been far too busy after dark to have said any prayers. She guessed “last night” meant early evening. On occasion, even her father might tell a fib to lighten someone’s heart. Since she had already told two lies in as many days, one to Jake yesterday and another to Elmira about her silly- looking dress a few minutes ago, Indigo decided she might as well go for three. “You didn’t say them along about dusk, did you?”

  Even from a distance, Indigo saw Franny’s eyes widen. “Well, I’ll be! How’d you know that?”

  “I just ventured a guess.”

  Franny leaned farther out the window. “Indigo, tell me true. Did you feel something?”

  “I did. But don’t you go telling anyone.”

  “You did? Truly?” Franny flushed with pleasure. “Well, if that isn’t something. I didn’t think He heard the likes of me.”

  Indigo spotted Jake walking up the boardwalk. Her heart took a nervous leap. “Franny, I’ve gotta go.”

  “Come see me soon?”

  “I will. Maybe tomorrow after work.”

  Franny drew back into her room and started to shut the window. Then she poked her head back out. “I’ll say more prayers for you.”

  Indigo couldn’t help but smile again. Franny was as gullible as she was sweet. With a quick wave, Indigo hurried on her way. She hadn’t mentioned her friendship with Franny to her folks yet, and she didn’t want Jake Rand telling them before she had a chance. The Comanche people had never allowed the lone women in their villages to become destitute, so prostitution had been nonexistent. She felt certain that if she approached her father when the moment was right, he’d defy convention and offer poor Franny sanctuary in their home.

  With her thoughts focused on Franny, she was scarcely aware of her surroundings when she stepped off the end of the boardwalk. As she drew abreast of the livery and the blacksmith’s shop, a man darted out at her from the darkness between the two buildings. Before she could react, cruel hands jerked her half off her feet and into the shadows. Her packages scattered on the ground in her wake.

  Indigo didn’t have time to feel frightened. The man shoved her against the livery wall. Her head snapped back and hit the boards. The impact of his body with hers pushed all the air from her lungs. For a few seconds, she hung there, sandwiched in and too stunned to move. He pressed his forearm against her throat to keep her from screaming. Not that it would have done her much good. Right next door, the smithy was making such a racket that no one walking along the boardwalk would be able to hear her.

  “Hello, Indigo.”

  That voice. She blinked and tried to place it. No. Oh, God, no. As her eyes grew accustomed to the shadows, the man’s face came clear. Brandon Marshall. Indigo gaped. When he smiled, his scarred bottom lip puckered grotesquely. Her horrified gaze dropped to the slash mark on his chin. Years ago, she had thought him the most handsome young man she had ever seen, slender and blond, with laughing blue eyes and a wonderful smile. He had said such nice things, making her feel pretty and special. And she had believed every lying word.

  “I promised you I’d come back. You still haven’t crawled for me, Indigo. Surely, you didn’t think I’d forget that.”

  She had heard he’d been living in Boston for six years. She had never dreamed he would hold a grudge all this time.

  As if he read her mind, he removed his forearm from her throat and touched his scarred bottom lip. “Oh, yes, I remembered you, love. Every time I looked in a mirror.”

  Indigo’s heart began to pound. She fought back the fear and slowly inched her right hand toward her knife. As her fingers touched the handle through the leather of her blouse, Brandon seized her wrist.

  “Oh, no, not this time.”

  Indigo finally found her voice. “Let go of me, Brandon.”

  “When I’m ready. Meanwhile, forget the highborn act. I saw you talking to Franny. A whore talking to a whore.”

  She strained to twist away from him. He laughed and pressed harder against her. Another wave of fear rolled through her. She was no longer a thirteen-year-old. She had long since realized that her strength was no match against a man’s. With a knife, she could hold her own. Without it, she was no more equipped to battle Brandon than any other woman her size.

  Her father lay confined in bed. Her brother, Chase, and her uncle Swift were miles away, working in the timber. There was no one for her to t
urn to, no one. Unless—

  “Jake!” she cried. “Ja—”

  Brandon slammed against her. “Shut up.”

  Indigo gasped for breath. She had seen Jake on the boardwalk. Unless he had entered another shop, he should pass by here at any moment on the way to her parents’ house. “Jake!” she cried again.

  When Jake saw Indigo’s packages lying in the dirt, he knew something had happened and broke into a run. As he drew close to the spot, he heard Indigo’s frightened voice and whirled to peer into the shadows between the two buildings.

  A man’s voice said, “I told you to shut up, you stupid little bitch. Besides, why call for Jake Rand? Everyone in town knows he’s already sampled the goods. They’re even talking about it in J’ville. That’s how I heard. You think maybe he’d feel jealous, seeing me with you? Wise up, Indigo. White boys don’t mind sharing an Injun slut.”

  “No.” She was sobbing.

  “Oh, yes. Like I told you years ago, squaws are only good for one thing, spreading their legs for white men. And crawling, of course. Quarter- breed or not, that’s what you are, nothing but a squaw. Being prettier than most doesn’t buy you respect. I don’t see Rand rushing you to the altar.”

  Sickened by what he had heard, Jake moved into the shadows. “Take your hands off her.”

  “Jake!” Indigo tried to twist free. “Let go of me, Brandon!”

  The terror in Indigo’s voice made Jake’s guts clench, and he threw down his gloves. With two long strides, he reached her. The man released his hold on her and fell back, warding Jake off with outstretched hands. “Hey, mister, we’ve got no quarrel.”

  “I’d say we do,” Jake replied in a dangerously even voice. He grabbed Indigo and drew her past him so she could go back out into the street. Then he went for the man. “I think you need some lessons in how to treat a lady.”

  “Lady?”

  Jake planted his fist in the man’s offensive mouth.

  When Indigo heard Jake’s knuckles impact against Brandon’s teeth, she bit back a scream and hugged her waist. Her mind felt frozen. Brandon Marshall. After all these years, he was back. She wanted to run, but fear for Jake held her rooted. Brandon was the type to have friends hanging around as backup.

  The fight, if such a one-sided confrontation could be called that, ended in only seconds. Brandon collapsed against the wall and folded his arms over his head, moaning and saying he was finished. Jake grabbed him by the jacket and lifted him erect.

  “Understand something, you miserable little worm. If you ever come near that girl again, I’ll make you regret the day you were born. Do you understand?”

  “Yes! Yes, I understand!”

  For a moment, Indigo thought Jake might slug Brandon one more time for good measure, but instead he tossed him into the dirt. Without so much as a backward glance, he turned and walked toward her, his expression one of concern.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  Indigo shook her head. Words were beyond her. She remembered all the things Brandon had said and wondered how much Jake had heard. Shame washed over her in a scalding wave. A whore talking to a whore. The years rolled away, and the memories rushed at her, as vivid as if it had all happened just yesterday. Squaws are only good for one thing.

  “Honey, are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I—I’m fine. He didn’t—You came before—I’m fine.”

  Only, of course, she wasn’t. Tears filled her eyes. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear standing there another minute. With a sob, she turned and ran. Away, she had to get away. Someplace where eyes couldn’t follow. Someplace private where she could cry. Someplace dark so she could hide her shame.

  Still shaking with rage, Jake watched Indigo bypass her parents’ house and run into the barn. His first impulse was to go after her, but then he saw her packages. By the time he had picked them up, reason returned. If she’d wanted comfort, she would have gone to her parents. She probably needed a few minutes alone to regain her composure.

  At a slower pace, Jake followed her. Composure. He needed a dose of it himself. His hands were still trembling. This was his fault, dammit. Squaws are only good for one thing, spreading their legs for white men. And crawling, of course. Everyone in town knows he’s already sampled the goods. The words plowed into him. He climbed the front steps to the Wolf house, then stood on the porch a moment to take several deep breaths.

  He knew what he had to do.

  Loretta Wolf paced back and forth at the foot of her husband’s bed. Her pallor alarmed Jake. “Brandon Marshall, here in Wolf’s Landing? I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it! After all these years? You’re sure she called him Brandon?”

  Jake had just finished telling them what had happened. He stood at the window, his arm braced against the sash, his gaze shifting from Hunter to Loretta as he tried to make sense of what they were saying. Who in hell was Brandon Marshall?

  “It can’t be the same man,” Hunter said. “He’s in Boston.”

  “How many Brandons have we known? One!” Loretta stopped midstride and whirled on her husband. “It’s Brandon Marshall, all right.” As if seeking confirmation, she turned toward Jake. “What did he look like?”

  Jake ran his hand over his jaw. “Tall, thin.” He dragged up a clearer image. “Blond hair, longish. He had a nasty scar on his lip.”

  Loretta threw up her hands. “That’s him! I knew it. The moment you said Brandon, I knew. Are you sure she’s all right?”

  “She’s fine, just a little shaken.” Jake pushed away from the window. “Just who is Brandon Marshall?”

  Loretta splayed her fingers over her eyes. “He’s a low-life bastard.”

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Jake might have smiled. His impression of Loretta Wolf up to now was that she wouldn’t say crap if she had a mouthful. “I’d already figured out that much.”

  She took a shaky breath. “Six years ago, he lived in Jacksonville for a few months. He began riding over this way every few days, and he took a fancy to our daughter.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Six years ago? She couldn’t have been more than—”

  “Thirteen,” Loretta finished. She sighed and lowered her hand from her eyes. “She was very young and extremely gullible. And Brandon was rich, charming, and handsome. She walked around with stars in her eyes for weeks.” Loretta’s mouth thinned. “We’re not positive of all the details. Indigo never talked about it much. But from what we could gather at the time, he made an improper advance, she slapped him, and they quarreled. A few days later, he came back, all apologetic, and lured her into the woods. He . . . um . . .” She gestured with her hands. “He had four friends with him.”

  Jake winced. He remembered that first night on the mountain when he had sensed Indigo was afraid of him. Now he knew why.

  “They didn’t finish what they set out to do,” Loretta went on. “Indigo fought them off. That’s how Brandon got scarred. She bit him and slit his chin with her knife.”

  “Good for her.”

  Hunter broke in. “Under that longish hair, he also has a notched ear.” Pride rang in his voice. “One small girl against five grown men. I taught her to practice every day. She’s better than I am with a blade. She held them at bay until she could run.”

  “Only she fell,” Loretta added. “She lost the knife in the brush. And they caught up with her. Luckily, Swift and Amy heard her screaming and got there just in time.”

  “Swift and Amy?”

  “My sister and her husband. Actually, she’s my cousin, but Hunter’s people regard cousins as siblings.” Loretta waved the issue away as unimportant. “Anyway, Brandon swore he’d get even. Then he moved back to Boston. Until you said his name a few minutes ago, I didn’t think we’d ever see him again.”

  “It looks like you were wrong.” It was Jake’s turn to pace. He ran a hand over his hair, then paused to look at Hunter. “How long has he been back? Could he be the man who shot Lobo?”

  Loretta
gasped. “Oh, dear God, I never thought of that.”

  Jake’s pulse quickened. A picture flashed through his mind of Indigo dropping just as the shot rang out. “Hunter, do you think he’d go so far that he’d try to kill her?”

  Hunter’s dark eyes grew troubled. “He’d have to be boisa.” His gaze met Jake’s. “Boisa, crazy. It makes no sense.”

  “A killer usually doesn’t,” Jake replied. “I think maybe we should report this matter to the marshal. It can’t hurt. And I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  Loretta pressed a trembling hand to her waist. “I think you’re right.” She looked to her husband. “Hunter?”

  Hunter nodded slowly. “Yes, the marshal should be told.”

  Loretta pushed at her hair to tidy it, then began untying her apron. “I think he’s over at the jail right now.”

  Jake drew a deep, bracing breath. “Before you go, there’s something else I think we should discuss.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  As quickly as he could, Jake told them how the men up at the mine had acted. Then he related the incident in the general store. He finished by saying, “A decent man doesn’t stand by and watch this sort of thing happen.”

  Loretta stared at him. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

  “That I marry her. Unless you have a better idea.” The room grew quiet. “I hoped it might blow over. But I can see it isn’t going to. If I don’t do right by her, the people in this town are going to crucify her.”

  Hunter shifted in the bed. Jake looked over at him. Silence blanketed the room again.

  “It’s very nice of you to offer,” Loretta said shakily, “but I don’t think—”

  Hunter held up his uninjured hand to silence her. “You have spoken only of Indigo. What of you? When you take a woman in marriage, it is for always.”

  Jake took another deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips. “I’d stand behind my vows, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It isn’t. I want to know what is in your heart.”