"I’m Carmen Hall.”
Hannah knew her by sight as the madam of Frenchie’s house of prostitution. She’d been in the store before, but Pandola had always served her. He did a good business with the dance-hall girls and prostitutes. They had money to spend, and they spent it lavishly.
She’d heard Pandola talking to one of his cronies about Carmen Hall. Apparently she had a partner, a man named Flannery, who was presently on a trip to Europe to bring back new girls.
Hannah stared at Carmen, fascinated by the woman’s dissipated beauty. She looked about Hannah’s age. Did she love Flannery?
“Where's Joe, dearie?" Hannah cleared her throat.
"He's out for a couple of hours. Can I help you, Miss Hall?”
“He was supposed to order me in a bolt of satin. You know anything about it?"
“I'm afraid I don't. I can have a look in the back, though. What color was it?”
"Don’t bother. I'll talk to Joe.” She didn't seem in any hurry to leave, however. She wandered over to the comer where Hannah had arranged an assortment of towels and flicked through them with a disdainful air, then ambled over to the counter again and leaned on it, studying Hannah as if she were merchandise.
“I hear you’re living at the Nugget.”
Hannah nodded.
“Word is you belong to McGraw."
Hannah hadn’t realized the whole town knew about her and Logan, and she had to struggle to disguise her shocked reaction. Her cheeks grew hot, but she managed to meet Carmen’s eyes straight on.
“Where I come from, women don't belong to anyone except themselves,” she said in a level voice.
“Ooh, an independent lady," Carmen said with a smirk. “I like that. Hannah—that’s your name, right? Hannah Gilmore. Well, I’m independent myself, Hannah. Say, I heard about these meetings of yours from Gentle Annie. She works for me. Sounds like you got some pretty highfalutin ideas. And where would you be from?”
Hannah hesitated.
“Victoria."
Carmen's thin eyebrows rose. "Not what I'd call a free-thinking place. Musta changed a lot since I was there."
Hannah nodded. "I suspect so."
Carmen’s eyes narrowed. "There was lotsa talk when you three”—she paused, and her voice was sarcastic when she added—“ladies rolled into town that night. I saw you the next day. You were wearing some rig even my girls wouldn't be seen in on the street."
Her eyes raked down Hannah’s modest shirtwaist and skirt, lingering on the sandals on her feet.
"That getup you got on now looks ordinary enough. You could use a decent pair of boots, though, dearie. Can’t you get McGraw to part with any of that gold he scalps off the miners?"
Hannah looked her straight in the eye, keeping her voice polite but refusing to be intimidated.
"I support myself, and actually, I prefer these sandals. They’re cooler than boots."
"I bet they are at that.” Carmen laughed. "I like you, Hannah Gilmore. Maybe I’ll come to one of these meetings of yours. Between you and me we could set some things straight around this town.”
To Hannah’s immense relief, two miners came into the store just then. They nodded to Carmen, and she raised a hand in laconic greeting. " 'Lo, Pete. How's it goin, Virgil?”
She moved away from the counter.
"Well, dearie, I gotta be getting back. Tell Joe he can deliver that satin.”
"I’ll do that.” Hannah watched the other woman sashay off down the boardwalk.
As she went about measuring out the oats and flour and sugar that the miners wanted, Hannah wondered if Carmen meant what she'd said about attending the meetings.
She was still thinking about the encounter when she got off work that evening. She was almost at the Nugget when Angus came tearing up the boardwalk towards her, the terrified expression on his tearful face signaling that something was wrong.
Hannah reached out to steady him as he jerked to a stop beside her.
"I gotta get Doc Carroll quick.” He wiped his wrist across his runny nose. “My Jeannie’s hurt. Daisy says get Doc Carroll.”
Hannah started to run towards the Nugget.
There was no one in the kitchen, and no sign of Logan either when she stuck her head into the crowded saloon. Hannah raced up the steps to the bedroom and tore the door open.
Jeannie lay on her back on one of the narrow beds, her pregnant belly big beneath the sheet.
Daisy had a basin of water on the floor and Jeannie’s face was covered with a washcloth.
"Mom? Jeannie?" Hannah approached the bed and the washcloth slipped off.
Jeannie was sobbing, a gut-wrenching sound, but it was her face that roused shock, horror, and then outrage.
The delicate girl looked like a prizefighter after a match. Her right eye was blackened and almost shut, her nose was crooked and bleeding, and there was a deep gash on her cheek. Her entire face was bruised and swollen almost beyond recognition.
"Oh, my God." Hannah groped for the girl’s work-worn hand and squeezed it.
"Oh, my God, what happened?"
“Oscar.” The one muffled word was enough.
"I’ve sent Angus for the doctor. I told him to get Elvira to come back with him, too," Daisy said in a trembling voice. “Hannah, I’d like a word with you." She motioned to the door and Hannah followed her out.
Daisy was on the verge of tears.
"Jeannie’s pains have started. She’s scared to death that brute of a husband is on his way to town after her. She took the horse, but she’s certain he’ll follow her on foot.”
"When did she get here?”
“Twenty minutes ago, no more.”
“Where’s Logan?”
"He left right after supper. Angus thinks he’s over at Kelly's Boarding House. There’s a big poker game there tonight.”
“I’m going to get him."
Hannah raced down the stairs, skirts gathered high above her knees.
Kelly’s Boarding House was on the opposite side of the street and a quarter of a mile away, almost into Chinatown. She ran all the way, using the street instead of the boardwalk, ignoring the ankle deep dust that churned up in stifling clouds around her legs, dodging several startled horses and a wagon.
When she reached the large frame building, she didn’t pause to knock on the door. She marched straight in, puffing hard, and found herself in a front parlor. There was a white-haired man sitting in a rocking chair reading a newspaper, and he leaped to his feet when she came in, pipe in hand, eyebrows at his hairline.
"I need Logan McGraw," she burst out. "Get him, quick."
"Oh, I dunno, miss—they said they're not to be disturbed."
Hannah glared. "Get him, or I'll go looking for him myself.”
He hurried off, and seconds later, Logan was beside her. Hannah gasped out the story, and Logan’s face hardened.
Two minutes later, they were hurrying down the boardwalk towards the Nugget, her hand clamped firmly in his.
"Shouldn't we get the constable?” Hannah was having a hard time keeping up with him, and she was breathless. "Jeannie says Oscar’s coming after her."
“Bowran and Judge Begbie are both up at the Lowhee mine investigating a suicide. They won’t be back till tomorrow."
"But Oscar's dangerous.”
"Damned right he is, and threats about jail won’t scare him. Jeannie’s his property, and he knows the law doesn’t take kindly to women running away from their husbands.”
Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
"The man’s beaten her, for heaven’s sake. He belongs in jail. She’s in labor, the baby's coming early because of him. He could have killed her.”
"I'm not denying that. I'm telling you the way things are. Oscar Chalmers paid good money to bring Jeannie and Angus here. In the eyes of the law, they owe him a debt. The fact that he's a wife beater and a bully and ought to be horsewhipped won't change a jury’s mind on the matter one bit.”
Hannah was fuming.
"But what can Jeannie do? There must be something she can do.”
"Technically she can leave him and sign a promissory note to pay back the money he spent on fare. But Oscar's not going to take kindly to that. He's losing a housekeeper, a bed partner, and an unpaid laborer to work his gold mine."
Logan cursed under his breath and increased his stride.
“Chalmers is a mean son of a bitch, and he's cheap as dirt. He'll do his best to drag her back where he figures she belongs."
His words sent an icy chill through Hannah.
“What will you do, Logan?”
"Anything I can to keep him from harming Jeannie or her baby.” He gave her a stern look. "And Hannah, listen to me. If there’s trouble, I want you to stay the hell out of it.”
She opened her mouth to argue and closed it again.
He was high-handed, but it was an enormous relief to have him in control.
Yesterday’s Gold: Chapter Twenty
It was two-thirty in the morning, and even from a distance, Jeannie's awful groans had long ago left Logan's nerves raw.
How did a man bear it when it was his own wife making those agonized sounds? he wondered. And how was Hannah managing, being right beside Jeannie through it all?
She was wonderfully brave, his Hannah. All women were, to go through this. He was sitting alone and watchful in the shadows at the back of the Nugget when suddenly, at two-thirty-four, Jeannie’s baby gave its first squawking cry.
Logan heard the sound clearly through the open bedroom window above his head. He shot to his feet and stood staring up at the lighted window, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.
To his amazement, tears filled his eyes and a feeling of wonder came over him as he blinked them away, relieved there was no one nearby to witness them.
He tensed as the crying stopped, concerned for the baby’s well-being, but a moment later it began again, stronger and louder than before.
He heard Hannah say something in a loud, excited voice, and then Doc Carroll’s laugh boomed out.
The tension in Logan eased. Mother and baby must be fine, or Doc wouldn’t be laughing that way.
Logan was grinning himself now. A new life had just come into the world, right here under his roof. Babies were a rarity in Barkerville. Would this one’s birth be a good omen for the Nugget?
The crying went on and on, and Logan's heart twisted at its urgency. He remembered that particular sound from when he was a young boy, when Nellie was born.
It brought back memories of his bungling attempts at feeding her and keeping her warm and dry, and it brought back as well the terrible sense of guilt and remorse that had haunted him since he’d learned of her death.
He clenched his fists and thought of Flannery for the first time in days. There’d been too many times in the past weeks when he’d all but forgotten why he was here in Barkerville.
It had to do with his feelings about Hannah. It was hard to stay focused when she was in his arms and on his mind, but the baby’s cry brought back in vivid detail his memories of Nellie, and his resolve to avenge her death.
He crushed his cigar out on the sole of his boot and went over to the toolshed. He’d promised Angus that if he went to bed, Logan would stay on guard in case Oscar turned up.
Logan had also promised he’d awaken Angus as soon as the baby was born.
Logan bent over the snoring boy and shook him gently.
"Jeannie’s had her baby, son, I heard it crying just now. Go on in and find out whether it’s a boy or a girl, why don’t you?"
Angus startled awake. "Jeannie’s okay? She had the baby?"
"I just heard it crying a minute ago.”
The boy’s sleepy eyes filled with dread.
"Oscar ain't come yet?”
Logan shook his head in reassurance.
"No sign of him. I’m keeping an eye out like I promised, so don’t worry. Now off you go and see your sister and the baby. You’re an uncle, how about that?"
“Uncle.” Angus scrambled up, pulled on his boots, and took off in a staggering run.
Logan slowly walked back outside.
At times during the long night, Logan had asked himself if maybe he was being melodramatic, posting a guard against Oscar. But something in his gut, some sixth sense, told him Oscar Chalmers would come for what he considered his property, and that he’d do it sooner rather than later.
Logan suspected that Chalmers would count on the fact that Jeannie had nowhere to go and no one to protect her. People generally didn't want to involve themselves in marital problems, and everyone knew Oscar’s temper and his meanness.
He’d know as well that Jeannie would never leave Barkerville without her brother. He’d guess that she’d have come here to the Nugget.
The lantern wick was turned high in the kitchen, and Logan went up the stairs, hoping that Hannah might have come down, but instead it was Elvira who was poking at the stove, shoving in a stick of wood to revive the dying fire. The teapot was on a tray, along with sliced bread and butter, a pot of jam, and Daisy’s molasses cookies.
Elvira shoved her glasses up her nose and turned to Logan, her plain face beaming. She looked almost pretty in the lamplight.
“Jeannie’s just fine and the baby's a girl. Prettiest little thing you ever laid eyes on, just over five pounds, but Doc says she’s as healthy as can be, which is a miracle considering the circumstances.”
She was babbling.
Logan had to grin. “That’s wonderful news.”
Elvira gestured at the loaded tray. "Jeannie needs sustenance. She has to get her strength back if she's going to nurse that child. Doc Carroll could do with a cup of tea and a bite, and I suspect you could too, Logan. I’ll get you to set the table down here. It’s going to take some time for that kettle to boil again. I’ve taken all the warm water so I can wash the baby.”
She lifted the basin and headed for the stairs.
“You fill the teapot and then refill that kettle before you bring up Jeannie’s tray. And maybe put another stick of wood on that fire and refill the reservoir. I’ll want to give Jeannie a sponge bath as soon as everybody clears out.”
Elvira was a bossy woman, Logan thought with a grin. She’d have made a good drill sergeant in the army. He gave her a snappy salute, and when she disappeared up the stairs, Logan decided Doc Carroll might like something a little stronger than tea.
He headed into the dark saloon for a bottle of good whiskey, set it and some glasses on the table, and then added plates and cups, bread and cookies.
When the kettle finally boiled, he went upstairs with the tray. The small bedroom was overflowing with people.
Hannah looked tired and she was pale, but her eyes were wide and shining when they met his.
“Oh, Logan, come and see the baby.”
He set the tray down on a stool beside the bed, noting that Jeannie's face was even more swollen than it had been. In spite of what she’d been through, she looked up at him and tried to smile.
"Thank you, Mr. McGraw, fer lettin’ us stay here."
“Pleasure's all mine.”
His voice was suspiciously thick, and he took her hand and gripped it. Then he peered down at the towel-wrapped bundle resting in the crook of her arm.
The baby’s head wasn’t as big as Logan’s closed fist, and it was covered with a shock of bright orange hair. Her black, shoe-button eyes were open, and she seemed to be looking around.
One tiny hand waved, and Logan reached out and touched it.
The baby’s hand closed around his finger and his heart swelled.
“She likes ya,” Angus crowed. He was kneeling beside the bed, one hand resting on the baby.
“What’s her name going to be?"
“Sophie, after our mother.” Jeannie’s eyes filled.
"Okay, everyone, clear out now so Jeannie can have her tea and then get some rest," Elvira ordered, and like a flock of schoolchildren, everyone obeyed he
r.
Back in the kitchen, Logan poured whiskey for himself and Doc, who tipped the glass back gratefully, declining tea and food.
"Got to get home. At my age a man needs his sleep."
He left, and as soon as they’d had tea and a sandwich, Hannah and Daisy went upstairs to bed.
They were using Logan’s room; he was banished again to the toolshed with Angus.
Elvira would sleep on the second bed in Jeannie’s room so she could keep an eye on mother and baby.
Logan, alone in the kitchen, yawned and turned the wick down in the lamp until the light was almost extinguished.
Outside, he made a circuit of the building, as he’d done regularly all night, watching for any changes on Barkerville’s quiet main street. There were none since the last time he’d looked.
The moon had set, and it was too dark now to travel with any ease, so chances were that Oscar would wait till morning before he made his appearance.
Logan yawned again and slowly made his way around to the back.
The lamp in the upstairs bedroom had been turned low, and not a sound came from the open window. Even the baby must have gone to sleep.
He went into the house, thinking he could use an hour’s rest himself. He’d stretch out in the upstairs hall, on the straw pallet from the shed.
He opened the door to get the pallet out, and a bloodcurdling scream came from upstairs.
Logan wasn’t aware of climbing the staircase or even opening the door to the bedroom.
The lamp had been turned low and the shadows in the room were deep and thick.
Jeannie was sitting up, clutching the bedcovers to her chest, her bruised, swollen features distorted with terror.
Elvira, in pink pajamas, stood beside the other bed, and her face, too, registered horror and fear.
“Well, hullo, McGraw."
Oscar Chalmers turned towards Logan and grinned, his thick lips pulled back over yellow teeth. His eyes were bloodshot and he staggered a little. It was obvious he wasn’t sober or rational.
His newborn daughter, swaddled in the white towel, was clamped carelessly under his left arm like a bundle of rags, and in his right hand he held a bowie knife.
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 56