“Fannie, someone assaulted a woman and locked her in your shed out back.”
“I swear I know nothin’ about it, Ty. And I know everything that goes on around here.”
“Anything unusual happen tonight? Other than Lester going missing?”
“Every night is unusual. It’s why I love this joint. But this kind of thing,” she said, putting a fist to her temple, “does not happen at my establishment. You know I’m clean and a straight shooter.”
“That I do, Fannie. But something bad happened here. I’m going to need to talk to all of your people working tonight.”
“Fine.”
“And a list of all the clients—”
“Not a chance in Hades, Sheriff,” she said, straightening to almost four-one.
“I can get a warrant before you can say ‘French maid or baby doll?’ ”
“And I can lose my accounting files before you can say ‘Please Fannie, let me keep at least one testicle.’ ”
If Ty wasn’t so upset for that pretty blonde, he’d probably chuckle. He was not in a chuckling mood.
“She claims that ‘the sheriff’ was the one who locked her in the shed. I don’t take kindly to anyone imitating a law enforcement officer, Fannie. Especially a woman beater. Have any friends with a cops and robbers fetish?”
“A couple of inquiries. I always send them over to Lacie in Reno. There’s just not enough interest to devote a room to that one.”
“Do you keep an old-time sheriff uniform around? An all-black one?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “But it’s not for customer use. It’s hung behind the bar in the Founders room. Framed and under glass. But I was just in there having my nightly constitution. And it was there, untouched.” Suddenly she laughed. “Matter of fact, Ty, it belonged to one of your great-grandpappies. Jesse Coltraine. He was the one who took over possession of the Rooster in the early days. Then sold it off to a private concern.”
Great. Another stellar point in his family’s history.
“I don’t see much funny here, Fannie. Don’t you care that someone assaulted a woman on your premises?” he asked softly. He knew he was playing the ace card, because one thing Fannie would never abide was physical harm to anyone in her domain.
She wilted back down to four feet nothing. “Is she going to be all right?”
“Seems like a fighter to me. I think Miss Prescott will be okay. Jinx says Doc Sanchez came right away.”
Fannie gave him a weird look. “Prescott? Her name is Prescott?”
“So she said before she passed out. Why?”
“The Rooster was opened by a Prescott. James Prescott. When he passed in 1850, he left the place to his daughter. But she disappeared within hours of arriving to stake her claim. At least that’s the legend. And that’s when Jesse Coltraine took over the property.”
Ty got a very strange, hot sensation in his stomach. “Do you know the daughter’s name?”
Fannie stared up at him. “Yep. It was Margaret. Margaret Prescott.”
Ty swallowed. “Fannie, as strange as it sounds, looks like Miss Margaret just returned to Little Fork.”
Two
Maggie knew she was in a very strange dream. But something of a wonderful one at that. She’d never seen all the doodads this dream had before, a bunch of whirring things and tube things and needle things. But for some reason she didn’t care so much. After so many months of crossing the continent in that horrendous coach, and then minutes or even hours of being locked up in that awful shed, she was finally warm and comfortable. Even though she’d been poked and prodded in this dream like some kind of pin cushion.
Everything in her dream looked clean as her mama’s linens. And very, very strange. In a most fascinating way.
This needle in her arm for instance. It was attached to a long tube that led up to a big bag of something liquid that the nurse had said the doctor ordered.
“Miss Prescott?” a man’s voice said.
“Hmmm?” she said, knowing the very last thing she should be dreaming about was a man in her room. So what? It was her dream and she was sticking to it.
After all, everything else was so odd. Her doctor was a woman! Imagine that. And a Mexican to boot. Her mother would be so proud.
“Ms. Prescott?”
Okay, that voice was real. Unfortunately, her dream seemed to be over.
She squinched one eye open, then the other. Standing beside her bed was about the best-looking Negro man she’d ever laid eyes on. Okay, not only a man in her room, but a black man at that. What a scandal this would cause back home. Apparently not so much here, seeing that Dr. Sanchez was standing beside him, smiling. “Am I still dreaming?” she asked.
The exotic, pretty woman laughed softly. “No, I think you’re quite awake. Ms. Prescott,” the dream doctor said. “This is Deputy Jinx Davis.”
Maggie’s gaze slid back to the man. “Deputy?”
“You can call me Jinx,” he said, flashing a smile that could melt Philadelphia snow. He had a badge on his shirt, which made her shudder. But he was nothing like the brute of her nightmare. He wore beige-colored, neatly pressed pants with a matching beige shirt that, the sleeves of which he had folded up to right below his elbows. And his face was kind. And somewhat dizzying.
“Deputy Davis?”
“Jinx,” he said.
“You’re a free man then, Jinx?” she asked, feeling suddenly shy.
He winked at her. He actually winked! “No woman’s been able to shackle me yet. Why? You want to try?”
“Certainly not!” she said. “I don’t believe in that barbaric practice.”
The doctor and the deputy glanced at each other. Maggie wondered what she’d just said that warranted such a reaction.
The deputy pulled up a chair and sat down. “If you don’t mind, I need to ask you some questions, Miss . . . oh, hell, may I just call you Margaret? Formality’s not my thing.”
“Nor mine, Deputy. I mean Jinx. I’m Margaret.” She pulled the covers up closer to her chin, because it was obvious she was in some kind of strange sleeping garment and not her traveling clothes. “Maggie, actually.”
“That’s good,” he said, smiling again. “Because Ms. Prescott is a mouthful.”
That was about the third time she’d been called a Mizz. Probably a regionalism. “What questions do you have for me, Jinx?”
The doctor put up a hand. “I have some other patients to be looking in on. I’ll be back to check on you later, Maggie. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
The doctor laughed. “It’s Sonia.”
And with that, the doctor left her alone in her bedroom with a man. Forward thinking, indeed. She didn’t think even her mother would approve of this. But she felt strangely comfortable. The deputy had warm eyes. Unlike that green-eyed monster who’d dragged her from her rightful home and into a shed. “I don’t know what more I can tell you, Jinx. I . . . already told that other man everything I knew.”
He pulled out a strange little notebook and a writing utensil unlike any she’d seen. “First, how’s your head feelin’?”
Her hand went to her head, and she felt the scratchy cloth wrapped around it. “It doesn’t seem to hurt at all. As a matter of fact, nothing seems to hurt. I feel kind of . . . like I’m in a very strange dream.” She eyed him. “You aren’t a dream, are you?”
“I’ve been called a dream once or twice,” he answered, grinning again. “But not tonight. Tonight I’m on business. And I’ll try not to keep you too long, okay?”
“Yes, certainly. I have so many questions of my own. But too confused at the moment to make sense of any answers you might provide.”
“Plenty of time for that.” He pulled the chair even closer to her strange bedside. It had metal bars on it. And buttons with strange symbols on the sides. “Ty tells me you said a sheriff was the one to toss you in that shed. And was probably the one who whacked you, too. Is that what you’re saying?”
/>
“That’s right.”
“Did he identify himself as the sheriff of Little Fork?”
“He did indeed.”
“Is it possible that he was just playing one of Fannie’s games at the Rooster?”
“That’s the second time someone has mentioned a Fannie. I’ve never met a Fannie here. And I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean by games. He wasn’t playing a game when he dragged me from the house. Or if he was, it was a horrible one.”
“Did he assault you?”
Maggie laughed, even if this was no laughing matter, and laughing hurt like the devil. “Deputy, is this bandage wrapped around my head not proof enough? Do you think I did this to myself?”
“I mean sexual assault, Maggie.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Sexual assault? You mean, did he force unwanted attentions on me?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
She laughed again. “Oh, Jinx, that’s so silly. I mean, look at me. Who would want to do that to me?”
He sat back in his chair. “Just about any sick bastard around, that’s who. Other than that god-awful outfit you were wearing—”
“It was my traveling gown! And I’d come a very long way, sir. And I’ll have you know I sewed it myself.”
His lips quirked. “Sorry, no insult intended. Are you with a historical wild west traveling troupe or something?”
Correction, her head was beginning to pound. It was like they were talking two different languages. “I was traveling alone. I came to claim my inheritance.”
“Which is what?”
“The Rooster Ranch, just as I told the other man.”
“The Rooster Ranch is owned by Fannie Mae Tipwell, Maggie. As it has been for as long as I’ve been alive, and then some.”
She shook her head, then immediately regretted it. “No. My father left it to me. I have the papers right here.” She looked around for her clothes. And then it hit her. She sure as Hades hadn’t undressed herself. And the papers had been tucked in her garter. “Where are my belongings? There are papers. I swear. Legal papers.”
Jinx’s brown eyes probed hers. “Okay, we’ll deal with that later. Right now I’m more interested in catching the person who did this to you. This is real important, Maggie. What did this man look like?”
“Hi, folks, how’s our patient?”
They both turned to the doorway of the room and Maggie’s head swam. She pressed one hand to her temple and pointed a shaking finger with the other. “There’s your man, Deputy. It’s him. Shoot him.”
Jinx had to physically force Ty into the hallway outside of Maggie’s room. Which wasn’t easy. Ty had two inches and probably ten pounds on him. And Ty had something else. Outrage.
“Hold on, hold on, hold on, buddy! Chill. Let’s talk.”
“I never hurt that girl, Jinx! I found her, for chrissakes!”
“ ’ Course not, Tyler,” Jinx said, dragging his bud down the hallway. “There’s things you need to know. But not right by her door, okay? Settle your fucking ass down.”
Ty stopped fighting him. “Someone is playing a colossal joke on me, J. And I’m pissed off.”
“My thinkin’ exactly. But let’s talk this out. How about some of the dee-lightful coffee they have in those vending machines?”
“It just gets better and better,” Ty muttered.
Ty sat down on one of those plastic chairs in the vending area, holding the disposable coffee cup in his hands. “What the hell is going on, J.?” he asked. “She looked at me like I was the devil.”
It bothered him more than he could say. Even with the gauze wrapped around her head, Margaret Prescott was beautiful. And touched him in a way he couldn’t explain. Unconscious, she’d been so helpless and needing her Sir Lancelot. In the hospital bed he’d watched her for a few seconds, and she seemed confused and yet enjoying herself. And then she’d taken one look at him and nothing but terror had filled her big brown eyes.
“Ty, she’s a very strange duck,” Jinx said.
“How so?”
“I’ll let Doc fill you in,” Jinx said. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Oh, goody,” Ty said. “Where is she?”
“Right here, Ty,” Doc Sanchez said. He hadn’t even heard or noticed her walking down the hallway, which just went to prove he was off his game. She was a beautiful woman, with hair as dark as his, but long. As usual, she had it up in a bun as she always did in the hospital. When she’d come to town a few years back, they’d dated for almost three months. But by mutual and happy consent, they’d decided they made better friends than lovers. And as far as he was concerned, she was the best doctor LF Med had. Which is why he’d been very happy when he’d learned she was on call tonight.
“So what’s the news, doc?” he asked, standing.
“Sit down, Ty. I don’t want you falling over like a big old oak.”
“She’s not dying, is she?” he asked, dropping back into his chair. The thought of that poor girl expiring made his stomach do somersaults. Especially while she still believed he was the one who’d assaulted her.
Sonia laughed. “No, although why not is something of a mystery.”
“The wound was that bad? She lost too much blood? What?”
“Nope, other than needing a transfusion and fluids, she’s completely healthy. All of the tests—CAT scan, MRI, X-rays—show her brain is perfectly normal. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Either she’s confused from the head injury, or we’ve just entered The Twilight Zone.”
Ty was getting frustrated. “Spit it out, Sonia!”
“I asked her the usual questions. Her answers were a little strange.”
“Such as?”
“Such as I asked her what year it was. She told me it was 1850.”
“Okay, she was in costume. Maybe she was still playing a role.”
“I don’t think so. I asked her who the president was, and she told me it was, of course, Zachary Taylor.”
“Oh boy. Was Zachary Taylor the president in 1850?”
“Did you flunk history, or what? Yes, he was the president. Until he died in July of that year. So in her mind she’s living during Taylor’s presidency.”
“That whack on the head did a real number on her,” Ty said. “Right? She’s an actress and is still working her role?”
Sonia shook her head.
“There’s more,” Jinx said.
“I asked her what her birthday was, and she told me it was May seventh. A week from now. So she has her days right.”
“But . . . ?” Ty asked, dreading the but.
“She says she was born in 1828.”
Ty swallowed. “Well, she’s aged well.”
“She has indeed. Every single part of her confirms that she’s what she thinks she is. Twenty-two years old.”
“She has to be faking something.”
“If you say so,” Sonia said. “But when Danie and I undressed her, I found these on her garter belt. A garter belt, Ty! No woman in her right mind would be wearing one unless they were working for Fannie. Look!”
Ty stared at the papers Sonia handed him. A copy of a will of a James Prescott, and the deed to Prescott’s ranch. The Rooster Ranch.
“Holy shit, right?” Sonia said.
Ty and Jinx looked at each other. “Holy shit,” they said in unison.
Ty wasn’t allowed to see Margaret the rest of the night. So he spent it looking for Lester, which was a waste of time. Lester had come face-to-face with his wife having a good old time with someone in the Bo Peep room, and had been so upset, he’d fainted in the back elevator. Since Lester’s wife was Ty’s accountant, Ty was figuring he now needed two new professionals, one for his teeth and one for his taxes. Make that three, since he also apparently needed a lawyer.
Finally the doc gave him the go-ahead to visit Miss Margaret at noon the next day. As Sonia said, her brain was just peachy.
Except she
kept insisting that Ty was her attacker.
And she thought she was born in the nineteenth century.
And he was beginning to believe it. Which pretty much meant that he was probably the one who needed that CAT scan.
He felt a little strange as he approached the room. He was damn sure he was mad at her for fingering him for something he was obviously innocent of doing, but he was also sure she’d been attacked by someone who she thought looked like him. He hated the thought of upsetting her.
So he brought a nurse, Louise Ledbetter, along with him.
Louise went in and fussed over her, then said, “I have someone who needs to talk to you, Margaret. I’ll stay here a few seconds, okay? But I do need to make med rounds shortly.”
“It appears the entire continent has been in to see me. What’s one more?”
“How about me?” Ty said.
“You!” she breathed, sitting up straighter in her bed. “I thought Deputy Jinx shot you!”
“You hopedhe shot me. Unfortunately for you, he works for me. Wouldn’t have looked good on his resume.”
“His . . . what?”
Damn, she was so pretty. And damn, so scared of him.
He looked back at the nurse. “Louise, would you ever allow me to harm your patient in any way, shape, or form?”
“I’d shoot you first, Sheriff.”
Ty looked back at Maggie. “See? You’re safe.”
“I’d feel safer if she’d just go ahead and shoot you.”
“You’re a bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”
“And you are an awful brute.”
“Of course I am. I only saved your life. For which you have yet to thank me.”
“Thank you! I’ll be my mother’s uncle before you get a—”
“Margaret, I need to make my rounds with other patients,” Louise said. “Do you want me to make him leave?”
Ladies Prefer Rogues: Four Novellas of Time-Travel Passion Page 25