Fair Play

by Deeanne Gist

  She smiled. “I went to church, as you well know. Besides, I’m fairly confident you won’t let anyone take me to that awful jail. And seeing as you’re up all night at the fair and here all afternoon working, I thought you might like some help.”

  “Me and the boys have it under control.”

  “But I came all the way out here to help.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  She tapped a finger against her skirt. “Is this a male-female thing?”

  “No. It’s an all-male thing.”

  She nodded. “I see. Did I mention I was supposed to be a boy?”

  “Once or twice.” With an indulgent smile, he interlocked his fingers with hers, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it. “I better get back to work.”

  “You do that. And don’t mind me.”

  He gave her a sideways look. “Billy . . .”

  She shook him loose. “I’m not asking permission. If seven-year-old boys can help, so can I.”

  After a few seconds his grin returned. “Then get to it, woman. Daylight’s burning.”

  Three hours later, her chemise, corset, bodice, and petticoats were wet with sweat and clinging to her body like butter-soaked cheesecloth. Thank goodness she’d had enough sense to wear her old undergarments. She just wished she’d thought to bring her battered straw hat.

  Balancing a bent iron headboard against her body, she wove across the lot like a man who’d been imbibing. She’d almost made it to the sorting-out section, when the headboard became much lighter.

  “I’ve got it.” Hunter stood behind her, his hands above hers, his voice holding a mixture of teasing and exasperation.

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “I can do it.”

  “Let go.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Let go.”

  She let go.

  “Thank you.” In a few quick strides, he handed it over to the sorter, then returned to her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Your cheeks are getting burned. Maybe you ought to call it a day.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You want to borrow my hat, then?”

  “You’d let me wear your hat?”

  “I would. I’m not sure it would fit, and the inside band’s all sweaty, but it’s yours if you want it.” He reached up.

  Placing a hand on his arm, she stalled him. “That’s okay. I really am all right.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Dirt coated his face, making the white grooves beside his eyes and mouth look as if they’d been painted on. A drop of sweat ran over the stubble on his cheek. He wiped it off with his shoulder. “I want to touch you. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.”

  She gave a self-deprecating huff. “I’m a total mess.”

  “Not to me.” He looked at her sweat-plastered bodice. “You’re looking mighty good. You sure you’re holding up all right?”

  “I am.”

  “Think you could do me a favor, then?”

  “Of course.”

  “Could you go and fetch the fellas and me a bucket of water? Our water gal quit coming for some reason.”

  She bit her lip. “That’s strange. Wonder why.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She smiled. He really had no idea.

  “I’ll be glad to get some water.” Turning toward Hull House, she could feel him watching her and became aware of the way her hips swayed when she walked. She’d never noticed it before and could do nothing about it. She hoped he didn’t think she was doing it on purpose.

  Instead of going through the house, she went down an alley behind it and started working a pump. Bending over the handle, she pushed the lever over and over. Finally, water began coming up. Grabbing a bucket, she held it under the spout.

  “Well, look what we have here.”

  Squeaking, she dropped the bucket and whirled around. Water splashed onto her skirt, then saturated the bottom of her boots.

  It was Kruse, the boy from the brothel, and three of his friends.

  He sashayed toward her. “Look, boys. It’s the petticoat who had our houses razed.”

  She wanted to look around for something she could use to defend herself, but was afraid to break eye contact.

  “Don’t mind us, doc.” He spun his finger in a circle. “Turn back around and finish what you were doing. We won’t bother you.”

  With slow movements, she squatted down, picked up the bucket, then put the pump between her and them. “What do you want?”

  “To watch.” Removing a thin scrap of paper from his pocket, he balanced it between his fingers. “We like to watch. Don’t we, boys?”

  Their laughter was low and suggestive.

  “I’m sorry about your home,” she said. “But that building should have been condemned. Having it knocked down probably saved your lives and those of your family and . . . friends.”

  One of the boys held an open pouch of tobacco toward Kruse. But he kept his eyes on her and the vicinity of her bodice.

  Willie wobbles sent gooseflesh up her arms. She forced her facial features into a neutral position, and straightened her spine. Show no weakness. Make them forget you’re a woman.

  But these boys were not doctors competing for status in a hospital. These boys were ne’er-do-wells looking for someone to blame their troubles on.

  Sprinkling tobacco onto his paper, Kruse rolled his smoke, then locked eyes with her and licked the edge of the paper.

  Her stomach soured.

  “We’re waiting, lady.” He stuck the smoke in his mouth. “Bend over that pump for us.”

  She needed a stick. And she needed to put her back against a wall so none of them could sneak up behind her.

  “You boys go on home,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “Before you find yourselves in a good deal of trouble.”

  “Boys?” Striking a match on the seat of his pants, he waited for it to flare, then held it to his smoke, puffing until it was lit. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, lady. We’re no boys. We’re full-grown men. Would you like us to prove it?”

  “That’s enough.” She infused her voice with authority. “I said go home and I meant it.”

  He took a long pull on his roll-up. A few seconds later, smoke poured out his nostrils. “I’m afraid we can’t do that anymore. We no longer have a home. Remember?”

  She hadn’t. She hadn’t thought at all.

  The next moment he threw down his smoke and they charged her.

  Screaming, she backed against a brick wall and swung the bucket. She made a solid connection with one of them, but there were too many and they were too strong. Wrenching the bucket from her grasp, they threw it aside.

  She shouted and kicked.

  One grabbed her hair and yanked, banging her head into the brick. Pain shot through her skull, cutting off her scream. Another covered her mouth and nose, making it impossible to breathe.

  Their hands were everywhere, but it was air she wanted. Air she fought for now. She slammed a knee into the one pressed against her. He howled and stumbled back.

  She sucked in air, but before she could scream again, a fist slammed into her jaw. Pain exploded in her head. Her assailant caught her by the arms and flung her toward the other two. Still, she struggled.

  “Hold her,” Kruse hissed, shrugging off his vest and yanking down his suspenders.

  The next moment he was flying backward through the air and Hunter stood in his place. He started toward the ones holding her, his lip curled, his eyes narrowed, his intent clear.

  They dropped her and ran. She slammed onto the ground, her tailbone taking the fall. Pain ricocheted up her spine.

  Footfalls receded. She curled up on the wet dirt, fighting a sudden bout of nausea.

  “Billy.” Hunter went down on one knee. “Death and the deuce, are you all right?” His hands hovered over her as if he didn’t know what to touch and what not to. “Where does it hurt?”

&nbs
p; Everywhere. “Give me . . . a minute.”

  “Would you rather me go get them? I’m happy to go get ’em. More than happy.”

  Closing her eyes, she grabbed a fistful of his trouser leg. “Don’t go.” Tears shot from her eyes. “Don’t go.”

  “Okay, honey. Okay. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not seeing any blood, but your jaw’s swelling up something awful. Can I pick you up? Carry you inside?”

  “I think . . . I’m going to . . . cast up . . .”

  “That’s fine, Billy girl. That’s fine.” Jumping over to her other side, he grabbed the bucket and slid his hands underneath her. “Here, let me hold you, then you—”

  She emptied the contents of her stomach into the bucket.

  “Hey, this is like when we first met, except I was the one casting up my accounts. Remember?”

  She continued until there was nothing left.

  “That’s it, darlin’. Okay, now. I’m going to scoop you up and carry you over to Hull House. They didn’t break any arms or anything, did they?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “All right, then. That’s good. You don’t need to hold on. I’ll do all the work. Here we go.”

  The change in elevation made her stomach roll. She moaned.

  “Easy, girl. We’ll be there in two shakes.”

  It was the last thing she remembered before all went black.

  UPSTAIRS BEDROOM24

  “The Hull House women had him carry her upstairs and lay her in one of their beds.”

  CHAPTER

  29

  He was going to kill them. First, he was going to hunt them down. Then he was going to lay them out cold, tie them up, and haul them in. Only he couldn’t haul them in. He only had jurisdiction over the World’s Columbian Exposition.

  Frustration gnawed at his gut. Rangers had jurisdiction over every county in Texas, and sometimes more, depending on whom they were pursuing. But the colonel had made it clear. Hunter didn’t have any authority in Chicago.

  Crossing his arms, he stood over Billy. The Hull House women had had him carry her upstairs and lay her in one of their beds. They hadn’t said a word about how filthy her gown was. Those kinds of things didn’t seem to matter to them.

  He shook his head. He’d never met any women like them. But now that he had, he couldn’t help but hold them up as a standard.

  Billy’s eyes slowly opened. She’d woken up from her faint the first time within minutes and started telling everybody what she needed—though each word had taken its toll. She now had her head wrapped and she held a block of cloth-wrapped ice against her jaw.

  “How you feeling?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  Instead of answering, she gave him a half smile, then grimaced at the pain and let her eyes close again. Yep, some heads were going to roll. Just as soon as she was strong enough, he’d have her tell the police what had happened. Then he’d lead them to the perpetrators.

  When he thought about what those fellows had planned, he trembled with rage. That rank jail was too good for the likes of them.

  A motherly type stepped into the room, her bearing confident, her dark hair streaked with gray, her figure thick about the waist. “You can go now, Mr. Scott. We’ll all take turns sitting with her.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is she going to be all right?”

  “She says nothing’s broken and that she’ll mend. Since she’s the doctor, I guess we’ll have to take her at her word.”

  “I thought I’d still sit a spell, if that’s okay. Just to make sure.”

  She crossed to a ewer in the corner and poured water into a bowl. “She’s wet, dirty, and uncomfortable. I can’t remedy that until you’re gone.”

  Sighing, he scooped up his hat from a wall peg, then leaned over Billy. “I’m going to leave you with this gal, now. If you need me, you just tell her and I’ll be here lickety-split.”

  Though she didn’t open her eyes, she offered him the barest of smiles—this time without a grimace.

  Straightening, he watched the woman wring out a washcloth.

  “I’ll be over in the lot on Polk catawampus to the nursery,” he said. “We’re cleaning up some debris. If she calls for me or takes a turn for the worse, you come fetch me, you hear?”

  “We’ll come get you if anything changes.”

  Tapping his hat against his leg, he took one last look at Billy, then left the room.

  She felt like she’d aged a hundred years.

  “You’re going to scare all the patients with the bruises on your cheek.” Nurse Findley handed Billy a hot cup of tea. “I had the cook put in some ginger for the swelling.”

  Hunter had been none too happy to find Billy working today, but lying in bed wasn’t going to make her heal any faster. And she couldn’t sleep anyway.

  She took a sip of the tea. “Thank you. Hopefully it will be a slow day.”

  It was anything but. With the summer heat intensifying, several patients came in with fatigue, dehydration, and overexposure to the sun. Some pretended not to notice her bruised face, others stared with open curiosity. And though she’d escaped her ordeal with fairly minor injuries, her movements were slow and her jaw hurt like the very devil.

  By the end of the day, her entire head felt as if it were a giant bell being struck by a clacker. Sinking into her desk chair, she toyed with the idea of ignoring the daily log, but the other doctors relied on it. They all did. For if a patient returned, they each needed to know what had been done the first time around.

  The concentration required for the task magnified her headache. Finally, she folded her arms on the desk and rested her head in them. The next thing she knew, she awoke to Hunter squatting down beside her, his hand rubbing her neck.

  “You all right, Billy girl?”

  She kept her head hidden, allowing his ministrations to loosen the tension. “That feels wonderful.”

  Standing, he moved his hands to her shoulders and massaged those as well. Heaven. He continued down her back, then skimmed her scapula with his thumbs. “My grandma used to call these angel’s wings.”

  “Ummmm.” She’d like to meet his grandmother. His entire family, actually. He spoke of them with great affection. “Is she still alive?”

  He rubbed her lower back, stopping just above the point where her waist curved into her buttocks. “Unfortunately, no. But she was a great old gal.”

  Placing his thumbs on her spine, he kneaded his way back up one vertebra at a time. She couldn’t believe the soothing effect it had. She’d have to remember that the next time she had a patient with a severe headache.

  With a slight lift of her head, she pulled her arms from the desk and let them hang beside her, then rested her good cheek on the patient log.

  He moved his hands to her arms. “If you’ll go lie on your examination table in there, I could do a better job.”

  “I don’t think that would be very appropriate,” she mumbled.

  “You massaged me.”

  “That was different. I’m a doctor. I was providing you with a treatment.”

  “I’m providing you with a treatment.”

  “Yes, but you’re not a doctor.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “How is all that, by the way?” she asked. “Your constipation, I mean.”

  “Billy . . .” His voice held a warning.

  “I’m just asking.”

  “I’m fully recovered and we’re never discussing it again.”

  She sighed, her eyes still closed. He’d long since quit taking his tea and once she’d transferred his massages to Nurse Findley, he’d quit coming in for them. So she’d have to take his word for it, she supposed.

  By degrees his hands slowed, his “treatment” becoming less of a massage and more of an exploration. A caress. Splaying his hands, he stroked her arms, shoulders, neck, and back until he’d worked his way to her waist.

  Her body stirred. And much as she’d like to indulge in the pleasure
of his touch, she braced her palms against the desk and pushed herself up.

  Behind her, he moved his hands to her shoulders.

  She leaned her head back and looked up his tall frame.

  His eyes were full of heat and something more. Something deeper. Love? Perhaps. Perhaps.

  He stroked her arched neck, then moved his hands to the yoke of her bodice.

  “No further,” she whispered.

  He nodded, his thumb dipping into the indention at the base of her neck. “Your jaw looks like it hurts.”

  “It does.”

  He smoothed her hair from her face. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do about the men who did this to you.”

  She crossed her arms, rubbing them. “I don’t want to talk about them. I don’t want to think about it.”

  “The police need to be told.”

  She pulled away from him and scooted back her chair. “I’m not telling them.”

  Squatting beside her, he braced his hands on the desk and armrest. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. You did nothing to bring it on.”

  “Oh, but I did.”

  He frowned. “Like what?”

  “Like having their homes demolished.”

  “You saved their lives. Those buildings were a death trap.”

  “All of them?” Reaching out, she smoothed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “I had only meant for Mr. Green to tear down the one building. Not all of them. No telling how many parents and children are without a home because of me.”

  “I was part of it, too. And they’ll find a place, if they haven’t already.”

  “You really think so?” She traced his eyebrow with her fingertip, then rubbed his cheek with her knuckles. Tiny whiskers abraded her.

  Turning his face, he kissed her hand. “I really do. But even if they haven’t yet, it doesn’t excuse what those men did to you.”

  She let her hand drop. “I’m not sending them to that jail, Hunter. If I do, they’ll be forced to associate with the most depraved criminals, who will have nothing better to do than instruct them even further in the criminal arts.”

  “No, Billy. They need to—”

  She placed her hand on his mouth. “Please, let’s not argue. I’m too—” She was going to say fragile, but the thought so stunned her, it never passed her lips.