Finally a Bride

by McDonough, Vickie;

  He didn’t know what that ornery gal was up to, but he intended to find out.

  Chapter 24

  Jack’s heart pounded as she raced around the side of the saloon. Holding her hand over her mouth, she tried to quiet her cough. How could those men stand being in that smoky, smelly place for hours?

  She leaned against the rough wood, willing her heart to slow down. This was just another of her harebrained ideas that was probably nothing but an effort in futility. She ought to run back home before she was missed, but she knew she wouldn’t. There was a story here, she could smell it.

  If she hadn’t been outside hanging Andrew’s diapers on the line to dry, she wouldn’t have noticed the mayor and his two companions strolling down Bluebonnet Lane. Her heart had pounded as she followed to see where they were headed. She hadn’t even known that those men—the same ones who’d been at the mayor’s home the day she climbed on the roof—had returned to Lookout. They had stopped at the end of Bluebonnet Lane, past Elm Street, where there was nothing but a few houses, then open prairie all the way to the Addams River. The mayor had waved his hand, almost as if offering the land to the men.

  They must be going to build something, but what? The town could use many types of new businesses, but the way the mayor was keeping this project such a secret made her suspicious.

  Something banged hard against the wall she leaned on, and she jumped. Night was falling. She needed to finish her task and get away from this vile place before Luke saw her or something bad happened. Her papa had warned her to stay clear of the Wet Your Whistle, even during the daytime. He didn’t need to warn her about being here at night.

  Pushing her feet into action, she tiptoed to the end of the building and peered in both directions. No people were out, but crickets and lightning bugs already heralded the coming darkness. She’d seen the mayor and his friends at the bar; then they’d headed upstairs. She surmised that there must be a private meeting or maybe gambling room the men planned to use. She swallowed hard as she worked her way around to the back stairs. She sure hoped the men hadn’t come here with pleasure in mind.

  The first weathered stair creaked from her weight. She winced and held her breath. Her fears were silly—who could hear a faint squeak over the ruckus coming from the saloon? The tinny piano music did little to mellow out the loud chatter, groans, and hollers from the men inside the building. And if the noise was bad, the stench was horrid. Unfortunately, she was downwind of the saloon’s privies, and she suspected half the folks who ventured out of the building to use them never made it that far.

  She hiked her skirt up farther and hurried quietly up the steps. She reached the landing, but she didn’t dare go inside. The line had to be drawn somewhere. Her mother would be proud that she was finally learning to set some boundaries for her behavior.

  To her left, the two windows on the rear of the saloon were dark, but light flowed from the ones to her right. She reached up toward one of the open windows, but it was too high and too far to her right to grasp. Jack glanced around, making sure no one was about, then lifted her skirt and climbed onto the landing’s railing. Too bad she hadn’t had time to don her bloomers.

  Deep voices echoed from the window. “It’s good in theory, but if the railroad fails to come here, we’ll have wasted a small fortune.”

  “That’s true, and we will also lose the faith of our investors.”

  Jack didn’t recognize either voice. She held onto the railing support that ran up the side of building. She glanced down, barely able to make out the ground below in the growing darkness. If she fell that far, she could well injure her knee again, and the pain had just barely stopped biting her with its sharp teeth.

  She shook off her apprehension like a winter cloak. This was nothing compared to walking on the mayor’s roof.

  “I understand, gentlemen, but I just received a certified document stating that the Katy Railroad will definitely be building a spur track from Denison to Lookout and on farther west. Construction of the rails is set to commence in a few weeks.”

  Jack’s heart soared at the mayor’s declaration. She’d gotten her scoop! The railroad was coming to Lookout, and she was the only one who knew except for these men. She needed more details and to find out what they planned to build. Maybe it was the depot. But no, wouldn’t the railroad company take care of that?

  She held her breath and leaned sideways to reach the window frame three feet away. Her right foot slipped, flailing, unable to find a place to land. Her fingertips latched onto the window casing, keeping her from falling. She managed to get her foot back on the railing, but now she leaned precariously to the right.

  One man stood and walked toward the window. Jack sucked in a breath and leaned her head away from the light. If he looked out, he’d see her fingertips on the window’s frame.

  Sprawled out like she was, she felt like a newborn foal that had just stood up for the first time. Good thing night had come, or anyone below would have a clear view of her unmentionables.

  “I’m not convinced this town has need of a hotel,” Mr. Mustache, as she had dubbed the man, said.

  Hotel?

  They planned to build a hotel in Lookout?

  Why … that would put the boardinghouse out of business. How could they compete with a brand-new hotel? Irritation at the mayor seared her belly and flared her nostrils—definitely not a good thing, given her closeness to the privies. She scrunched her nose shut on the inside, just like she did when she changed Andrew’s messy diapers, but that did nothing to quell the fire burning in her gut.

  No wonder the mayor had been so devious and wouldn’t let her listen in on his conversation with these men. Mayor Burke had once planned to buy the boardinghouse and make it his home back when her ma thought Luke would marry one of the boardinghouse brides. But when Luke picked her, she canceled her plans to sell out and move away. The boardinghouse was far bigger and fancier than Mayor Burke’s present house, and he’d always admired her home. Was that his purpose? To drive her family out of business so they’d have to move and sell the boardinghouse? Of all the …

  “Our surveyor should arrive within the week.”

  “I’m not sure where we will put him,” Mayor Burke said. “There’s not another bedroom at my house.”

  “Perhaps he could stay at the boardinghouse and investigate our competition.” Mr. Mustache chuckled.

  The mayor snorted. “Mrs. Davis’s place won’t be much of a threat to your establishment. That minister is the only boarder she has now. At the rate she’s birthing babies, it won’t be long before she’s filled the house with children and won’t have any more rooms to let.”

  Jack sucked in another gasp, trying to keep quiet. Her fingers were starting to ache, as was her knee, bent in an unnatural manner as it was. She tightened her grasp on the window frame, halfway wondering how she was going to get back on the landing.

  A drunk in the doorway mumbled something incoherent and fumbled with the screen door latch. Suddenly it flew open, banging into her hip and sending her flying.

  For a fraction of a moment, she hung only by the fingertips of her right hand. Her body swung far to the right. Her fingers slipped. Her frantic heart tried desperately to escape her chest.

  She would not fall.

  Not again.

  Help me, Lord.

  She forced her trembling left hand up to the frame and grabbed on. Her boots slipped against the fabric of her petticoat as she tried to gain a foothold. If the men so much as glanced her way they’d see her hands. Her breath came in little gasps. The ache in her fingers intensified.

  “Well now, what’ve we got here? Eh?” The man responsible for her precarious position leaned over the rail and grinned. The light shining out the window illuminated him. Several days’ worth of sparse whiskers coated his cheek and chin, looking like mange on a dog. He belched, sending a putrid stench Jack’s way.

  She couldn’t do a thing. Go away!

  If she so much as wh
ispered, the mayor would hear her. And what would he do if he found her spying on him a second time?

  The drunk swatted at her arm. “Come over hear and give ol’ Harvey a smooch. Yer a purty little thang.”

  “Git!” the mayor yelled.

  Jack plastered her cheek against the building. Her fingers slipped. If that man didn’t leave soon, she was in serious danger of falling. The drunk leaned over—and Jack hoped and prayed he didn’t choose that moment to spew the contents of his belly all over her.

  “C’mere.” He snagged hold of her sleeve, then lost his balance and tilted over the rail. “Whoopsie-daisy.”

  She closed her eyes, expecting him to knock her off her perch. When no collision occurred she peered out of one eye. Relief made her weak—and she sure didn’t need any more weakness—to see he had righted himself on the landing.

  “I said get out of here. Can’t decent men have a meeting in quiet?” the mayor yelled. Footsteps sounded in Jack’s direction.

  Yikes! Fall or get caught?

  Neither option was favorable.

  The drunk regrouped and took another swipe at her but missed. She hoped he’d attract the mayor’s attention so he wouldn’t notice her.

  Falling was better than getting caught. Jack let go.

  The mayor slammed the window shut.

  Jack hurled downward, her skirts snapping like a flag in a wind storm.

  “Tell us another story, Miss Carly.” Abby sat on her bed in her nightgown, bouncing her legs.

  “Not tonight, sweetie. Emmie is already asleep.” She lifted the toddler off her lap and held her tight against her chest as she stood. She kicked out her skirts and carried Emma to her bed.

  “Puh-leasse.” Abby held out her doll and danced her across the quilt.

  “Shh … I said no.” She pulled a sheet over Emmie and placed a kiss on her head. Oh, how she’d grown to love these children. If she had to leave and move on one day, her heart would break.

  “Miss Carr—llyy, I gotta go.”

  She turned toward Abby, putting her hands on her hips like she’d seen Jacqueline do. “Are you telling the truth?”

  Abby nibbled her lip, then looked down at the floor.

  “That’s what I thought. Lie back now. It’s time to sleep.”

  The girl did as told, but her frown proved she wasn’t happy about bending her will. Suddenly her gaze turned apprehensive. “But Sissy’s not home. I’m scared to go to sleep without her.”

  Carly laid the sheet over Abby’s body. Was she really afraid, or was this another bedtime stalling tactic?

  “Abby, you know that’s not true.” Luke walked into the room, making it seem smaller.

  “But Papa …”

  “No more talking. Time to go to sleep.” He leaned over and kissed Abby’s cheek. “I love you, punkin.”

  Carly left the room and started down the stairs. Luke turned off the bedroom lamp and followed behind her, chuckling. “That one is such a fireball. Reminds me of Jack when she was younger, although I didn’t know her at Abby’s age.”

  Carly didn’t miss the regret in his voice. “I have to admit, I can’t yet tell when she’s pullin’ my leg or bein’ truthful.”

  Luke joined her in the entryway, shaking his head. “Neither can I, and I’m her father—and a lawman. And Alan’s almost as bad.”

  “I never realized how difficult raising children can be.” She’d probably never have any of her own. She ducked her head and studied the floor. A large ant crawled out from under the hall tree. Before she could even reach in her pocket for her handkerchief, Luke squashed the intruder.

  “Raising children can be hard at times, but it’s worth all the effort.” A soft smile tugged at his lips.

  Carly continued to be amazed at how he’d welcomed her into his home, given their past history. How he entrusted the care of his children to her. He didn’t seem to hold any animosity toward her for her past.

  He glanced down, his brown eyes anxious. The sun had ironed permanent creases in the tanned skin beside his eyes. His brown hair, the color of a pecan shell, had touches of gray at the temples and sideburns. “I wonder if I might ask a favor of you.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  His smile turned him from a rugged lawman to handsome. “I’d like to get Rachel out of the house and take her for a short walk. Would you mind tending the baby and keeping an ear out for the children?”

  “I’d be happy to.” She loved holding the baby. It was her first time to be around one other than at church or when a young mother would visit Tillie.

  “I’d be much obliged. We won’t be gone long. I know Rachel is tired, but the fresh air will do her some good and maybe even help her sleep.” He glanced at the window beside the front door. “Hmm … I wonder where Half Bit is. Do you know?”

  Carly shook her head. “No, she was hanging up the diapers last time I saw her. Come to think of it, she didn’t come in afterward.”

  He strode toward his bedroom. “Rachel and I can look for her. I’m sure she just got distracted chasing a rabid boar or trying to interview a cattle rustler for that paper.” He shook his head and turned into the bedroom.

  Rabid boar? Carly chuckled. She remembered all the stories about Jacqueline that Rachel had written to her while she was in prison. Those letters and Rachel’s encouragement had kept her going when things seemed more than she could bear.

  She walked into the dining room, turned up the lamp, and checked to make sure everything was in place. A light breeze blew in the window, but a flash of lightning pulled her across the room. If a storm blew in, she didn’t want the floor to get wet. She shut the window and stared out, waiting for another flash.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned. Luke strode in with Andrew on one arm. The baby’s head rested in his father’s hand, while the tiny body lay across Luke’s forearm. Andrew looked so much smaller when Luke held him.

  “Here you go. Rach’ said he still needs to be patted since he just finished his supper.” Luke handed her a clean diaper and waited while she draped it over her shoulder then passed his son to her.

  “Take care of him.”

  “I will.” Cuddling the baby, she walked around the table, satisfying herself that all was in order and no food had been overlooked on the floor. Then she turned down the lamp. In the dimly lit parlor, she sat in the rocking chair and patted the baby’s back. She liked sitting in the dark. It was a habit she’d developed in prison, not by choice but because the lights were turned off shortly after supper.

  In the dark, she’d been able to pretend she was somewhere else—anywhere except the hot cell she’d been locked in. She closed her eyes and laid her head back. Andrew squirmed, pumping his legs, and uttered a squeak.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall. Luke and Rachel stopped at the front door. He opened it, but she turned toward the parlor.

  “Andy’s fussing. Maybe I should stay.” Rachel nibbled her lower lip and took a step in Carly’s direction.

  Luke snagged her arm. “Nope. C’mon, Mama, Andrew is fine, your other little chicks are in the coop, and now the rooster wants to take a walk with you.”

  Rachel laughed and took his arm. “Why, you have such a way with words, Marshal Davis.”

  “Yep.”

  The door closed, leaving Carly alone. She loved how Luke and Rachel teased one another and joked. Loved the affection brimming from their eyes whenever one stared in the other’s direction. She loved it, but it only emphasized what she’d never have.

  No man wanted a convict for a wife. The women in prison had told her as much, not that many of them seemed to care if they married. And neither had she until she’d come back to Lookout and observed how a couple in love lived.

  Now she wanted it all. A husband. A home. Children.

  She glanced up at the dark ceiling. “Help me to turn loose of those dreams, Lord. They only cause me anguish.”

  Andrew jerked and screeched. Carly stood and bounced him up and
down. She glanced at the front door. How long would Luke and Rachel be gone? What should she do if the baby had a problem?

  She walked down the hall, bouncing little Andrew and patting his back. The baby stiffened and wailed. If she didn’t get him quiet, he might wake the other three, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to handle all four children at once.

  “Shhh, little fellow. You’re all right.” Her crooning helped but the moment she stopped, he kicked out his legs, and she nearly dropped him. “Hey now, settle down. Your mama will be back soon.”

  A knock sounded, startling Carly. She stared at the front door, knowing it wasn’t locked. Who could be knocking at this hour?

  Whoever it was pounded harder. Maybe there was a problem and someone wanted the marshal. She hurried to the door, baby crying, and peeked outside. Garrett Corbett’s oh-so-beautiful blue eyes stared back, illuminated by dim light in the parlor. June bugs and moths flittered around the porch lantern. “Well, c’mon in before you let all the bugs inside.”

  He hurried through the door, shut it, and yanked off his western hat, revealing a sweat line that darkened his blond hair. “That wasn’t exactly the greeting I was expecting.” He flashed a teasing smirk. “What’s wrong with Andy?”

  “Sorry. And I don’t know. He was fine until Rachel left. I’m supposed to pat him until he belches, but it’s not working.” Tears blurred her view of her guest. She wasn’t qualified to care for a baby.

  “Let me see him.”

  She tightened her grip on Andrew, raising her voice to be heard over his frantic wails. “What do you know about babies?”

  “Watch and learn.” He lifted Andrew out of her arms and carried him into the darkened parlor. He perched on the end of a chair, then set the baby on his lap. Holding the baby upright with his neck and head supported, Garrett patted circles on the baby’s back. Andrew continued screeching.

  “You’re gonna wake the other children. Let me have him back.” Carly reached for him.