The Halsey Brothers Series

by Paty Jager

*****

  Darcy lifted her tired head from the top of the desk. Her body ached from sleeping in the chair. After Gil left with the outlaw, she tried to stay awake. Later that night or was it morning—she shook her groggy head—a runner came to tell her of a drunk who needed to rest the night in the cell. When he was cozy in the cell with the wounded outlaw, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She’d fallen asleep with her head on the desk.

  Banging from the occupied cell set her teeth on edge.

  “Knock it off!” she hollered, picking up a book and heaving it at the cell door.

  “Come make me, lad,” taunted the grizzled old man she dragged into the cell the night before. He’d come out of his drunken stupor in a foul mood.

  “Who’s making all the racket down here?” Jeremy asked, climbing down the ladder from the sleeping area.

  “The fool drunk I put in there last night,” she said, waving her hand to the cell. She scratched her head. “Go get them and me some food from the restaurant.”

  Jeremy jumped at the offer. She wished she could have left the noisy building, but she didn’t want Jeremy to have to put up with the likes of what she had behind bars.

  “Do you want to stay in there longer?” she asked, glaring at the bearded man.

  “Old Tobias must be paying you real good to throw people who owes him money in here.”

  “What do you mean?” She crossed the room, but stood a distance from the man. He smelled sour and a dog would’ve loved to roll around in his mouth. It smelled like something had died in there.

  “The only people other than him,” the old man jerked his thumb toward the robber, “that get throwed in here owe money to Tobias Craven. He held the papers on their claims, and they couldn’t pay him back on time ’cuz they was locked up in here.”

  “Do you owe him money?” Darcy had wondered why a runner had shown up to tell her this man was drunk down at the saloon.

  “Need to pay it before the end of the day or I lose my claim.”

  “To Mr. Craven?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then why’d you go drinking so much the day before you needed to pay him? You got the money to pay or did you spend it all on drink at the saloon?” She couldn’t feel sorry for a man who smelled like he did and acted irresponsible. She knew a couple of mules that smelled better and had more sense.

  “Old Tobias invited me into the saloon. He wanted to buy me a drink. Then some pretty little thing came over and sat in my lap.”

  Darcy gagged at the thought of sitting on the man’s lap.

  “Next thing I know, I’m playing cards with some men and the girl keeps filling my glass.” He smiled a nasty, brown smile. “I never turn down free whiskey!”

  “It wasn’t free if you’re losing your claim.”

  He hung his head. “That’s so. That’s so.”

  “Why does Craven want all these mines? Are you getting lots of gold out of them?” Darcy tried to reckon why the wealthiest man in town would want all the small claims.

  “It keeps me in whiskey and food. But I wouldn’t call it a big strike.” The man sat down on the empty cot.

  Darcy shot a look at the cot where the wounded outlaw lay. He was on his back, his good arm draped across his face like he wasn’t listening, but she could tell he was too still to be sleeping.

  The miner’s shoulders slumped as his head rested in his hands. “It’s all I got. I put everything I owned down on that claim.”

  “Come here,” she said, motioning for the man to walk over to the door. He just stared at her. “Come on, get over here,” she ordered, taking the keys from her pocket and opening the jail door. She pulled the old man out and shut it quickly behind him before the other prisoner could realize the door had opened.

  “If I let you go, do you have the money to pay him off? And then take me out to look at your claim and all the other mines Craven stole?” Darcy had an inkling this information would get her to the bottom of Craven’s dishonesty.

  The old man looked at her like she was crazy. It was a reaction she’d received before. Especially, since taking on the job of marshal.

  “If I can get to my claim, I got some more gold stashed.” He grinned. “What’re you up to?”

  “Just trying to figure out what’s happening around here, that’s all.” Darcy crossed the room and looked at the man. “I’ll go with you to get the gold. That way I can see what Mr. Craven wants with your claim.”

  She walked to the door and stuck her head out to see why Jeremy wasn’t back yet. He stood by the mercantile yakking to Gil Halsey, the basket of food dangled from his arm forgotten. She frowned in irritation and hollered.

  “Jeremy! Bring me that food then get to the livery and get me two horses.” Dang kid gets her into this then he goes and hangs out with the enemy.

  Jeremy ran over, handed her the basket, and headed off to the livery at a run. Halsey took a step into the street in her direction. She thought about having him stay with the prisoner, but didn’t want to leave him alone with Jeremy and the robber. She still wasn’t certain what connection he had with the man locked in the cell.

  Darcy ducked back in the jail. She handed food to the wounded prisoner and the old miner before sitting down at the desk and stuffing rolled up hotcakes into her empty stomach. When she finished, she and the miner stepped out of the building.

  Jeremy charged up the street, pulling two big horses behind him. Darcy hurried out to the hitching post.

  “I’m taking Mr. Winthrop to his claim,” she said, adjusting the stirrups for her short legs. “We’ll be back before supper.”

  “How come I’m not going with you?” Jeremy asked. His small mouth turned down at the corners as his eyes turned puppy-dog like.

  Darcy knew the feeling of being left behind. She patted his shoulder. “I need you to stay here and look after the prisoner. You’re the deputy. Bar the door, and don’t let anyone into the jail. He’s got friends hanging out around here.”

  Halsey crossed the street, headed directly for them. “And don’t tell him where I’m going.” She motioned for Mr. Winthrop to get on the horse as she pulled herself up onto the tall gelding.

  Squeezing with her legs, she urged the horse forward and headed out of town without looking back. Halsey would question Jeremy. Hopefully her brother could keep his mouth shut. She didn’t need the likes of Gil Halsey following her around when she finally had a clue to Craven’s plans.

  Chapter 4

  Darcy had never been to a real gold claim before. For all her talk, she knew next to nothing about finding the shiny nuggets. She stared at the lean-to Mr. Winthrop called his shack. Being a miner didn’t look appealing. It would be like living behind a stable. Something she and Jeremy knew first hand.

  The claim sat on the edge of a babbling, clear stream. The sluice box stood on the embankment, two legs in the water and two legs out. A round, shallow pan leaned against the bucket on the ground next to the wooden box.

  Winthrop dismounted and handed Darcy the pan. “You can try your luck up there.” He pointed up stream. “I’ll be right here digging out my stash.”

  Darcy took the pan and eyed him doubtfully. Should she leave him alone? The crystal clear water and shiny objects on the bottom of the streambed called to her as sure as the scent of a meal.

  Dismounting, she tied the two horses to a bush. To ease her mind the man wasn’t trying anything; she glanced back over her shoulder. Mr. Winthrop busily dug beside his lean-to. Elated at the prospect of finally panning for gold, she whistled and continued on up the creek.

  Trout darted around the colorful rocks on the bottom of the streambed. Their shiny sides glistened in the sun. Birds twittered in the maroon dogwood brush on the opposite shore. She breathed in the crisp air and looked around. It was a beautiful spot to spend all day searching for gold. The tranquility was almost as good as gold.

  Squatting next to the stream, she scooped up dirt and rocks. She’d watched a couple of miners work a str
eam when they first came to Galena. Swirling the contents in the pan, the water picked up the lightweight objects, sloshing them over the edge. A lot of dirt and rock still remained. She added more water and swirled the pan, again.

  The horses snorted. She swung around and found Mr. Winthrop trying to untie the gelding he’d ridden out to the claim.

  “Hey! Where’re you going?” Darcy dropped the pan and spun to stop the man. Her two-sizes-too-big boots tripped over the rocks, and she fell, face first into the cold water.

  Gasping and flailing as the frigid water numbed her knees banging on the rocks, she tried to gain her footing. By the time she had her feet under her, the man had disappeared into the underbrush.

  Darcy stood, soaking wet and shivering. She stared at the far side of the lean-to, searching the trees and brush for Mr. Winthrop. There wasn’t a bush moving or a snapped twig to be seen. For an old man he moved fast and slick.

  “Mr. Winthrop, please, come back here.” Darcy stared into the trees where her prisoner disappeared, searching for a flicker of clothing or the sound of movement. The large, sodden trousers clung to her legs and made a slurping sound as she walked to the back of the shack. She stared at a freshly dug hole big enough for a canning jar. He did have more money. That he hadn’t lied about.

  Blazes! Why had she let a drunken old man get the better of her? She didn’t know if he’d been telling the truth about owing Mr. Craven money or if he just used that as a means to get out of jail early.

  “Leave it to me to believe some old coot.” A light wind came up. She shivered and walked back to the horses. “At least you didn’t get the horse,” she yelled, grabbing the reins of the horse that carried Mr. Winthrop from town. She struggled to pull her cold body, clad in restrictive clinging clothes, up into the saddle.

  She’d learned nothing from this trip, except to not listen to drunks and to watch her step. Defeated and tired, she rode back to town. The hair prickling on the back of her neck told her someone followed. She didn’t care. If someone wanted to hurt her, they would have done it by now. She slumped in the saddle and let the horse head for home.

  *****

  Sitting in the trees on the path from Mr. Winthrop’s claim, Gil watched Darcy pass by. She looked sad and lonely. And lovely. For the first time since meeting her, he finally saw the curves of a woman. The wet chambray shirt clung to her body, revealing small, pointed mounds on her chest and a slim waist. He wanted to ride out and join her, but he couldn’t let his body make decisions over his good sense. He still didn’t know why she rode out to the claim and let the old man get away. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing this woman did made sense.

  The more he watched her, the more he wanted to know about her. He guessed it was from having been raised with four brothers that he found girls, and as he got older, women so interesting. They were soft in a way no man could be. In their manners, their voice, and their bodies. He could tell a lot about a man within fifteen minutes of meeting him, but a woman–he hadn’t found one yet he could truly figure out.

  They were a lovely puzzle. He didn’t know why one woman’s voice could make his teeth grind, while another one could send shivers of warmth through him like a shot of good whiskey.

  The marshal had a smooth, gentle voice with a touch of fire. Gil figured it was the heat in her voice and the light in her eyes that wouldn’t let him walk away.

  He kept his distance in the trees, following her all the way to the edge of town. Before leaving the shelter of the trees, he watched Darcy peel the shirt off over her head and wave it in the air. He knew he shouldn’t sit there watching her in her chemise, but he still found it hard to believe there was a woman under the male clothing. Her sitting astride the horse in trousers and chemise proved beyond a doubt she was a woman.

  When the shirt appeared dry, she put it on, tucking in the tails and tugging it back out to billow above her trousers. She urged the horse forward, and Gil veered his mount to the left, coming into town from another direction.

  He waited until she’d returned the horses and headed to the jail before he rode up to the stable.

  “Who owns the claim about three miles out on Buck Creek?” he asked the liveryman as he dismounted.

  “That would be Elias Winthrop. I believe the marshal threw him in jail last night for being drunk and disorderly.”

  “He got any partners?”

  “No. You looking to partner up with someone?”

  “Nope. Just asking.” Gil headed out of the livery and up the street. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own lately. He found himself standing in front of the jail.

  Gil took off his hat and combed a hand through his short, curly hair before stepping inside.

  “Hey, Gil,” Jeremy greeted him and cocked his eyebrow before motioning his hand in a gesture of “what did you find out”. Before Gil could say anything, Darcy came down the ladder wearing a new set of men’s clothes. Her eyes widened when she saw Gil standing before her with his hat in his hands.

  “Ma’am…”

  “It’s Darcy,” Jeremy whispered.

  “Darcy, I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of having supper with me at the hotel tonight?” He added a smile that usually charmed a return smile from the ladies. If he had to drag her there she’d have a meal with him. He wanted to see just what she was about. He knew an evening of food and conversation was the way to a woman’s heart. They liked to have money spent on them and attention paid to them. He could do that and maybe get her to slip up about why she went out to Winthrop’s claim and let the old man get away. He also wondered at her sanity taking on the job of marshal.

  Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed in an accusatory manner.

  “I usually have my meals with Mr. Craven.” She looked down at her shirt. “And I don’t have anything proper to wear.”

  “Sure you do, Darce,” Jeremy piped in. “You got your Sunday dress you could wear.”

  “If you remember,”—her eyes shot daggers at her brother—“it was on the small side when I wore it two years ago. And besides I’m not supposed to let people know I’m a girl.”

  “If you put on a dress and did your hair up, no one would even know it was you,” Gil offered, trying to keep her from finding an excuse to not join him.

  “I don’t have any money for a dress.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes.

  “What about that gold piece you and Jeremy fought over earlier?” he asked.

  “It’s not mine to spend.”

  He wondered about the gold piece. It was just another reason to take her to dinner and get her talking.

  Gil tossed a five-dollar gold piece on the desk. It rolled off, landing on the floor, and rolling between her feet.

  “Go buy yourself a dress.”

  Her eyes lit up at the prospect before she looked down at the floor, veiling her gray eyes.

  “I can’t.” She turned and bent over, picking up the coin. Gil nearly groaned as her small backside pressed against the cloth of her trousers.

  She straightened and tossed the coin back to him. “It’s not proper for me to take money from you.” She walked to the back of the desk and sat down.

  “It’s a gift.” He walked around the desk. Spinning the chair, he put a hand on either arm, blocking her in. “I want to eat supper with you at the hotel. You don’t want to go looking like the marshal. Take the money and buy a dress.” He watched her gaze travel from his lips to his hair to his lips again, then down to his hands holding her chair.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you asking me to dinner?”

  “You’re a woman. I’m a man…” He watched the vein in her neck pulse and wondered what it would be like to feel that spot against his lips.

  She sucked in her breath, bringing his mind back to the present. A soft, faintly floral fragrance drifted in the air between them. It didn’t go with the person dressed in male clothes, but it definitely fit the picture of her his mind c
onjured up.

  “Well?” With a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face up to look at him.

  “Well what?” A smile teased at the corners of her mouth.

  “Will you take the money and buy a dress and meet me at the hotel at seven?”

  She hesitated and his heart hammered in his chest.

  “Yes,” she finally whispered.

  The air whooshed out of her as he spun the chair around. He hurried out the door before he found himself gathering her up in his arms. There was something about the slight build and wide vulnerable eyes that made him say and do things he would never say or do with another woman. Why had he asked her to supper? And why had he offered to buy her clothes?

  Groaning, he hurried to the mercantile for a new shirt. After he purchased a new shirt, he’d go to Mrs. Danforth’s, the only place in town where a bath could be purchased. He wanted to show Miss Darcy Duncan he wasn’t some rounder.

  Chapter 5

  Darcy looked at the empty doorway and groaned. What had she done? She’d accepted an invitation to dinner with Gil Halsey.

  The shiny coin twinkled at her as though laughing. He’d given her money to buy a dress. She slapped a hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. Why did he ask her? It wasn’t her looks, she knew better. He wanted something.

  Gil’s face appeared in her mind. His dark brown eyes smiled back at her. Small crinkles at the sides told of a man with a lighter disposition than she’d seen so far. Maybe if she went to dinner with him she’d see the real man. Maybe he wasn’t the enemy, maybe he could be someone she could trust and lean on. She could sure use another person’s opinions about Tobias Craven.

  She’d told Jeremy a prospector gave her the gold nuggets for safe keeping. He didn’t need to know of the bribe or they were to stay away from any of Mr. Craven’s dealings. The people around town had been close-mouthed about Craven. With more digging, she was bound to find someone with enough gumption to give her the low-down on the mayor.

  Her eyes popped open. She wanted to walk into dealings with Tobias Craven with her eyes wide open. She didn’t trust him. Eating supper with the man hadn’t cultivated any new ideas. He just ate and grunted at the other people seated in the restaurant and ignored her questions.