by Jodi Thomas
When Hannah dismissed them for lunch, they all ran to the back and grabbed tin pails made from syrup cans. Out came colorful napkins covering huge biscuits stuffed with ham and sausage left over from breakfast and fruit stored in cellars since early fall. The Burns brothers both had baked sweet potatoes, which they peeled and ate like apples, and thick slices of bread covered with butter.
Hannah smiled at the sudden chatter that filled the room. Hunger also gripped her, but she could wait until dinner. Two meals a day was enough. After all, that was more than she’d had in total the week she’d been on the run. Those days had been hard, moving from shadow to shadow, trying to find water and food…trying to stay warm…trying to stay out of sight. After two good nights’ sleep at Ford’s house, those days seemed far away. He might not be much on conversation, but he’d seen that she had plenty to eat and that her box was full of wood for the fire each night.
Moving to the metal dipper that hung above a pail of water, Hannah drank. She guessed as soon as the biscuits were finished everyone would be fighting over the one dipper.
The children quieted suddenly when the door opened and cold air filtered in from behind the rack of coats. Ford stood in the opening, looking huge among the students.
He cleared his throat and removed his wide-brimmed hat. For a moment he stood silent, taking in the room, the children, the drawing she’d done on the board. “I thought I might be able to have a word with the teacher.”
Hannah had to laugh. He was acting so proper.
“Of course,” she said, nodding toward Lilly and Ruth, then following Ford outside.
The cold wind twirled her into his arms, and he held her against his side as they moved the short distance around White’s store and across the street to the post office.
“What is it?” She knew by the speed at which they were walking that Ford’s visit was more than just a noonday call. She suddenly wished she’d taken the time to grab the coat she’d worn this morning. But he had such purpose about him that she simply snuggled closer to him and tried to match his long steps.
He slowed as he reached the plank porch. “When Jinx rode down for the mail this morning, there was a man at the station looking for you. She said he was real worried that he’d lost track of you. Kept describing you to everyone and saying he was worried about his niece Hannah. Until he talked to Smith last night in one of the drinking establishments near where the railroad line ends, he’d about given up hope.”
“No one’s looking for me,” Hannah lied.
“Well, Jinx brought him along with her.”
“Are you sure he’s looking for me?” Hannah froze, almost causing Ford to trip.
He stopped and turned to face her. “Is there anything I should know? This wouldn’t be a husband come looking for you, or another customer of your robbery business?”
“No!” She felt as if her world were crumbling again, just as it had the morning in the café when she’d seen Jude shot. Jude’s killers had found her; somehow one of the three tracked her all the way to Saints Roost. They must kill her; she was the only one who’d witnessed the murder. “No one knows where I am.” She tried hard to believe her words. “There is no one.”
“Well, someone sure does.” Ford sounded angry. “If he’s the law, there’s not much I can do.”
Ford reached for the doorknob, and Hannah grabbed his hand. “No,” she cried. “Don’t open the door. It could mean your life.”
“What…” Before Ford could finish, someone pulled the door from the inside, and Ford and Hannah almost fell into the post office.
“Well, it’s about time you two got here!” Jinx bellowed. “I’d think you’d be in more of a hurry to see your uncle, Hannah.”
“Uncle?” Hannah turned as an old man shuffled toward her. He was thin, with rugged features and a shaking hand. Though clean shaven and dressed in a suit that must have been cut for another, she knew who he was the moment he stepped from the shadows. Zachery Jess Noble, the drunk who had hung around the bar in Fort Worth every night since Hannah could remember. Half the time he’d only have enough money to drink, then he’d beg meals from her over on the eating side of Hickory’s place. She’d never seen him looking quite as clean or sober before.
“Hello, dear, dear Hannah.” He moved toward her as though he were planning to hug her. When she edged closer to Ford, Zachery settled for a pat on her shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you in Dallas, child.”
A thousand questions came to mind, but Hannah couldn’t ask them with everyone watching. If this old drunk found her, so could three killers. “Welcome to town, Uncle.” She almost choked on the words. “I guess you’ve already met everyone, including my husband, Ford.”
Zachery nodded and smiled, first toward Jinx, then at Ford. “Yes, this kind angel brought me here and told me you’d married. I was asking every man, woman, and child if they’d seen you.”
Hannah had to get Zachery alone. As a drunk he was usually quiet, but she didn’t know what he’d be like sober. “Come, let me show you my schoolhouse, then we’ll sit down and visit.”
“I’ll rewarm the coffee while you’re gone,” Jinx yelled from somewhere behind the counter. “Ford’ll give me a hand.”
Zachery tipped his hat toward Ford, who didn’t look at all interested in leftover coffee, and followed Hannah outside. She stormed ahead of him until she was across the street and behind the first building, then turned on him like an angry bobcat. “What are you doing here, you old drunk?”
Zachery waved at her to lower her voice. “I came to help.”
“Like hell you did!” Hannah could never remember being so angry. “The truth. What’s in this for you, and why are you following me?”
Rubbing his chin as though suddenly missing his usually scraggly growth of whiskers, Zachery asked as if he had a right to know, “You love this man you married, Hannah girl?”
“That’s none of your business.” Hannah wouldn’t be put off. He hadn’t cared about her all the years he’d been hanging around Fort Worth, so why should he show any interest now? “What are you doing here?”
Zachery opened his mouth as if starting to dodge the question again, then surrendered. “All right. I had to find you. I know you’re running because you saw Jude killed.”
“How could you know that?” She began to shake with fright. No one had been in the bar that morning. No one but Jude, Hickory, her, and the killers. “Is Hickory alive? Did he live to tell?”
“No,” the old man shook his head. “I watched them shoot him several more times in the stomach just to see him jump.”
Zachery seemed to be following her logic and answered her unspoken question. “Because I was asleep beneath the bar. You know, along the far wall where the lights never reach? I can store a pillow without worrying about someone stepping in my face while I’m napping.”
“Get on with it.” She was considering screaming if he didn’t answer her questions.
“Well, I saw you run out. Then I heard why they killed Jude, and how they were going to have to kill you, on account of you being the only witness.”
“But you…” Hannah thought about what she was about to say. Zachery would never be a witness, not even if he saw a man murdered. Even if he did decide to tell the law, no sheriff would believe him. “Why’d you follow me?”
“I didn’t have nowhere else to go.” Zachery’s puffy eyes began to tear. “I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. When I crawled out back of the saloon I saw your shadow and decided to follow you, ’cause I knew you’d be running as far away from the murderers as you could get. Whiskey’s flooded my brain for too many years. I couldn’t think of any plan but following you.”
“Why didn’t you let me know that you were behind me?” Hannah wasn’t sure she believed him. He could somehow be linked with the killers. Maybe they were paying him to move in first and put her off guard.
“I thought if they did catch you, I didn’t want to be within blood-spattering dis
tance. I kept up with you until you met up with that husband of yours in Dallas, then I couldn’t catch the train fast enough to follow.” His hand shook as he waved it over his forehead. “I climbed in a boxcar taking an old man home for burying. While I was in the car, I made use of the box of clothes and shaving stuff traveling with him. It wasn’t stealing, Hannah, ’cause he wasn’t going to use them again.”
“That’s fine. I’m glad you cleaned up, but you can’t stay here.” The last thing Hannah needed was a drunk visiting her and her temporary husband. Ford, a roomful of kids, and Gavrila were enough to handle.
“I don’t have any place else to go. My mind’s been floating in whiskey for too long to think. I can’t think of what to do. All I know is my best chance will be to stay with you. You’re the only person who’s been kind to me in years.”
Hannah frowned. She felt sorry for him, but she was having enough trouble keeping herself alive; she couldn’t adopt an old drunk.
“I won’t be any trouble. I won’t even drink but a little. I know you don’t think much of me, Hannah, but I was from a good family back before the war. I can act real nice if need be. I wasn’t always like this.” He spread his fingers, trying to hold them still. “I once had a profession and a family.”
She wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn’t dare. Over the years she’d seen many like Zachery, all with stories that could break your heart in the telling.
“No,” Hannah answered. “I can’t.”
Zachery nodded. “I understand. I’m happy to see you married and settled. No matter what you might think, you matter to me, and I’d like to know that you’re loved and happy. I’ll just go tell Jinx that I ain’t your uncle and she can take me back to the station.”
“No!” Hannah reached over and grabbed his arm. “If you tell her that, she’ll think we’re both mad. A man usually knows his own kin, and a niece should be able to recognize her uncle. If you say anything, they’re sure to think something’s wrong. And this is one place you can’t just walk out of without half the town noticing.”
“Then I can stay?”
“Only for a day or two until I can think of something.”
“I could get sick and die if it solves the problem.” His huge eyebrows wiggled up and down with hope.
No, I’m already planning that exit, Hannah thought. “We’ll think of something less final. Maybe you could have to leave on business. Until then…no drinking, and don’t tell anyone anything about me. This isn’t a town like Fort Worth. These people have rules like you wouldn’t believe. They don’t allow drinking, gambling, or any other sins.”
“Well, child, then I won’t have to pretend to die; I’m dead already and gone to the pit of hell.”
Hannah smiled. “Come along, Uncle Zachery—it’s too cold to stand around outside talking. We need to get back to the others. But one warning—if you let me down, I’ll boil you in Jinx’s leftover coffee.”
“I won’t,” he whispered. “I swear.”
Chapter 9
FORD WALKED OUT onto the porch of his sister’s house. The wind had grown colder, whipping around between the few buildings of Saints Roost as though chasing its tail. He hardly noticed. His mood was darker than any storm the pesky wind might be promising.
He’d spent the afternoon listening to Hannah’s Uncle Zachery telling war stories, when Ford could think of a hundred things that needed doing back at his ranch. He’d had little experience with what his father loved to refer to as dyed-in-the-wool sinners, but he’d be willing to bet Uncle Zachery got about as close to the truth as he did to a bath in winter.
Jinx Malone was the only one who never seemed to tire of Zachery’s stories. The one thing Ford found likable about the man was Gavrila’s total hatred of him. From the moment she’d been introduced to him, she’d treated the old man as if he were made of rotting rodents. She alternated between holding her nose and voicing her displeasure. The fact that Uncle Zachery took her open hatred as kind teasing irritated Gavrila into near hysteria and made Ford laugh aloud.
“Hiding out?” A soft voice came from behind him.
Ford swung around and almost collided with Hannah. She jumped back, and once more he saw her hands dart protectively to her face before she could stop the action.
He took a step aside, allowing her plenty of room.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” she said as she lowered her arms.
“No.” Ford wished he could make her relax around him. He guessed it was his size that frightened her. Something about him had alarmed every woman who came within ten feet of him for as long as he could remember. “I thought I’d go upstairs to a small office I keep in one of the extra rooms, but after being cooped up all evening I needed air.” He took a deep breath and switched to the truth. “You’re right. I am hiding out.”
Hannah moved to the railing. “I don’t blame you.”
“Is that man really your uncle?” Ford leaned his hip into the railing only a few inches from where her hand gripped the wood.
“Would it matter? Maybe he’s as much my uncle as you are my husband.” Hannah didn’t want to talk about Zachery. If she did, she’d have to tell Ford too much about why she’d left Fort Worth. Knowing Harwell’s men had killed Jude and were willing to kill her, Hannah realized they might murder Ford if they thought he knew anything. She didn’t want Zachery here any more than Ford did, but she couldn’t just turn the poor man out when he thought she was his only hope for survival. After talking with him, she wasn’t sure he could survive on his own.
“No.” Ford lifted his arms and grabbed the top of the porch frame. “It doesn’t matter who he really is, I guess. He’s probably as real as the rest of us in this charade. Just promise not to leave him here when you disappear. With all the grief of your funeral, I don’t think I could take Uncle Zachery living with me also.”
Hannah laughed softly and poked him in the ribs. “Already critical of my relatives, are you?”
Ford lifted his hands in surrender. “No, darlin’, I would be the last person to complain, after what you have to endure with my sister. I tried everything I could think of to talk our way out of having to come to dinner tonight, but she only hears what she wants to. In the end, she informed me that she’d already told several folks we were coming to dinner this evening, so it was settled.”
“She’s not so bad,” Hannah said, trying to be nice.
“Neither was the Civil War,” he added. “I’ll have to give her one compliment, though. That was the first meal I’ve eaten at her house, when she didn’t have Molly in, that I could finish. It was actually very good.”
Hannah wanted to say thank you, because she’d cooked most of it, but Gavrila had taken full credit for the dinner when she’d served the soup.
Ford gently placed his hand over Hannah’s on the railing. “Just in case someone’s watching from the windows,” he explained.
Hannah nodded. She wanted to say that she didn’t mind. She’d accidentally touched him every time she could all evening. He might be just holding up appearances, but she found it thrilling to touch him. Her mother told her once that the Gypsies can read people by touching just their hands. The good in a person can be felt with even a slight brush of the palm. Hannah moved her jaw, remembering the last blow Jude had given her. She’d felt the evil that had been in him. She must have been a fool not to have seen it before he asked her to marry him. But before that night, he’d been just one of the hundreds of men who came to Hickory’s for a meal and a few drinks. He seemed no worse or better than the others.
“Cold?” Ford asked, moving closer.
“A little,” she answered, thinking how Jude’s memory always left her feeling cold and empty inside. For a short time she’d believed in a dream. She’d thought that maybe there was more for her than there had been for her mother. But now she knew she’d be lucky to have what her mother had—a place in the shadows to hide until she died. “I’ve been cold since I stepped off the train. I do
n’t think I’ve ever been this far north in winter.”
“It’s getting late. Maybe we’d better say good night to the others and go home.” Ford had been wanting to say those words for two hours.
“I’m ready.” Hannah didn’t want to say anything, but the day had been exhausting, and she felt like she could sleep standing up if she was allowed to be still for three breaths’ time. “Let’s say farewell to the others and head for Canyon’s Rim.”
When they were loaded into the wagon ten minutes later, Ford was miserable and no longer cared if he went home tonight or not. Uncle Zachery had decided to go home with them, instead of taking Jinx Malone up on her offer to stay in the extra room off the post office where travelers sometimes spent the night between stages. He said he wanted to make sure his niece was happy, way out on a ranch.
The ride back to Canyon’s Rim was silent, except for Zachery’s rattling on about how much needed to be done in this part of the country. The only nice thing about Zachery being with them was that Hannah sat close to Ford. She’d probably think him terrible, but Ford enjoyed the feel of her leg against his and the way she brushed against him when the wagon rocked. He put his arm around her and welcomed the nearness as she rested against him. After several minutes, she stopped shivering and relaxed into his warmth. But Uncle Zachery never stopped talking.
Darkness had already claimed the ranch when they reached home. Ford let Zachery and Hannah out at the house and walked the team to the barn. He took his time bedding down the animals, knowing it would be awkward sleeping in the house. He had a feeling if Uncle Zachery even suspected that Hannah and he were sleeping in separate rooms, he’d tell everyone in town.