As Lisbet went to see what Rayne wanted, Ben walked up to Eunice and gave her a big smile. He had his little index finger in his mouth, and his blue eyes just sparkled. It was hard to imagine his smile getting any brighter, but it did when Eunice smiled back at him. Eunice had to admit, if only to herself, the little boy melted her heart and made her wish even harder that she had one of her own. She knelt down and asked, “Are you ready for your trip to town?”
“I go Uncle Tom!” Ben said excitedly.
“That sounds like fun.”
“You go?” Ben asked in a shy voice.
“Oh…no honey, I'm going to stay here and do some reading, enjoy some alone time.”
Lisbet walked back into the parlor with her bonnet in her hand. “Ben, leave Eunice alone now. Come on, Ma's about ready to go.” She reached for his little jacket. She was quickly followed by Rayne, who once more asked if Eunice was sure she didn’t want to join them. When Eunice declined, the small family walked outside to the horse and wagon that waited for them.
Chapter Four
Tom Kennedy was walking the boarded sidewalks, when he spotted the wagon coming up the street. He squinted and smiled, as the wagon drew closer. With a happy shake of his head, he stepped into the doorway of the small diner and called out, “Bessie, come see who decided to come into town and see us.”
“Tom, do I look like I got time to run over there to see who's ridin’ in?” Bessie called back, even as she wiped her hands on the towel she had in her hands and walked towards the door.
“Bessie, you know darn well you wanna know. That's why you're headed this way.” Tom laughed, as he watched the woman approach.
“Oh hush. Well, look who it is!” Her hand was up and excitedly waving at the family. “Hello there…” she said loudly, as the wagon pulled up to the hitching post.
“Bessie, Tom, how ya'll doin’?” Rayne jumped down to tether the horse, reached for Ben.
Tom walked up and helped Lisbet down, then pulled her into a big hug. “Howdy, Lisbet, you're lookin’ fine today. What brings you all into town?” He shared the smile he reserved for friends and family.
Rayne smiled, as she walked around with Ben in her arms. “Tom, you makin’ eyes at my wife?”
“Well, Rayne, she is a very attractive woman, and you keep her out at your place away from all of us. So, when I get a chance to admire her beauty I'm gonna.” Tom winked at Lisbet, who blushed slightly.
“Now, you two stop that, you're embarrassin’ Lisbet. Not to mention keepin’ me from seein’ that there handsome boy.” Bessie pushed her way to Ben and reached for the raven-haired boy.
“Hey, wait a minute, ain't ya gonna give me a hug?” Rayne feigned hurt feelings.
“Oh Lord, you just cain't stand anyone other than you gettin' any attention. Can ya?” Bessie laughed, as she wrapped the tall, dark-headed woman in a loving hug. “I cain’t tell ya how much I've missed ya,” she whispered into Rayne's ear, her voice shaky with emotion.
“I know, I’m sorry Bessie,” Rayne whispered back, as she hugged the woman tight. Bessie had been one of the first people Rayne had met when she arrived in Willow Springs. Bessie, along with Tom, Mark Benson and his wife, Emily, welcomed her to town. They supported her and helped her when she lost Emma, the first woman she ever gave her heart to. This town would always be her home and these people her family.
Bessie cleared her throat and pulled away. “Now come on, let me get to that boy. I wanna see how big he's gotten. Mercy, look at you, why ain’t you the spittin’ image of your ma here. Lisbet you come on over here and give me a hug too.”
“What brings you folks into town, not that we ain't happy to see ya,” Tom asked as he approached.
“Well, Tom, I thought I'd bring Lisbet and Ben in for a visit, maybe some supper, and…well… Truth is, I got a favor to ask of you and Mark.” Rayne pushed her black Stetson back a tad.
“Is that right? Well, you know I'm always here for ya. All ya gotta do is ask. I'm pretty sure that ol' Mark feels the same way. Why don't you head on into the dining room with Bessie, and I'll go fetch him,” Tom pulled off his hat and scratched his head.
“Sounds fine. Thank ya, Tom. Maybe you could stop and fetch Sally and Emily. We’d be mighty pleased if ya joined us for supper too.”
“Why, that sound’s mighty fine. I'm sure Sally would love to see you, Lisbet, and Ben here. In fact, she was jawin’ at me to ride out to your place and invite ya to supper. I just ain't had a chance to.” He nodded and placed his hat back on his head. “I'll go fetch Mark.”
“Ya’ll come in here and let me get ya tea,” Bessie said loudly. “This young man is tellin’ me he ain’t had a lick of anything to drink in hours.”
“Is that so?” Rayne laughed. “That young man just knows that he has you wrapped around his little finger.” She wrapped her arm around her wife’s waist, and together they followed the plump woman into the dining room.
Chapter Five
With the planting and arrangements that Rayne had to make for her ranch and family, they departed Willow Springs much later than she had intended. It was midsummer when Rayne and Eunice finally arrived in Colorado.
During weeks spent either in a wagon train or on railways, Rayne saw buffalo and beautiful scenery. They made it up the San Juan Mountains to Telluride, where they finally arrived at Eunice’s house. To Rayne’s mind, Eunice’s was a very nice home and something akin to the one she planned to make sure she had for Lisbet when she got to town.
Rayne walked to town and enquired about ranches in the area for sale but had no luck in finding anything, again. It was the piano music and laughter drifting from the building that eventually caught Rayne’s attention. Well, that and the prospect of a shot of whiskey enticed her. Inside, men sat at round tables playing cards and drinking whiskey, or standing in front of the bar nursing their drinks. Upstairs, men were enjoying the company of saloon girls, spending their hard-earned pay on a good time.
Rayne had been in town for three months and once again found herself at a table nursing her drink, one eye on the door and the other on the poker game to her left. Trouble was brewing, she could feel it. She hated that she would always get a sense when trouble was likely. Suddenly, she pushed back her chair and stood up. With her black hat pulled over her eyes, she walked up to Josie, one of the many working girls, who was standing in a bad spot at the bar should a bullet go astray. Rayne whispered in her ear, “I want ya to quietly move towards the stairs and stay there.” The woman turned as if to question her. “Josie, don't argue with me, just go.” Rayne watched as the woman moved, and got the barkeep’s attention. “Jonas, if I were you, I'd move closer to that there shotgun ya got hidin’ back there.”
“Mathews, what the hell ya talkin’ about?” the man behind the bar asked in irritation, as he wiped the glass he held in his hand.
“I hope to hell I'm wrong, but I been watchin’ Cyrus playin’ with that stranger. Unless I’m missin’ my guess, Cyrus is gonna get himself shot. You can keep that from happenin’.”
“Now, why the hell would he be doin’ that?” Jonas asked, as he stretched his neck to peer over Rayne's shoulder. “I don't think you know what the hell you're talkin’ about,” he finished with a laugh.
“Yup, well thanks for the whiskey,” she said, as she shook her head in disappointment and tossed two bits on the bar. “Miz Martha, how's about we head on upstairs?” she spoke to the brunette who stood to her right. Rayne reached for her arm and began leading her towards the steps. They had just reached the bottom step, when Cyrus Granger pushed his chair back and shouted, “You're a low-down cheat,” as he drew his gun. A shot sounded and a few women screamed, as Cyrus slowly looked down to the spreading warmth of blood from his chest and collapsed to the floor, dead.
“I don't take kindly to bein’ called a cheat. Anyone else have that opinion of me?” The man stood and placed his smoking .45 on the table.
Rayne suspected that no one moved because no one fel
t they would be faster than the stranger. Hell, she wasn’t sure she would be fast enough. Well, that and they weren't sure that the stranger was cheating. Cyrus had a problem with whiskey, and when he was losing and losing a lot, everyone was a cheater. Fortunately, most of the locals knew this and knew when to just walk away.
The sheriff rushed in after hearing the gunshot. “Someone wanna tell me what the hell just happened here?”
“Well, Sheriff, this man here felt I was cheatin’ him and was gonna draw on me. I just happen to be faster. And no, I wasn't cheatin’, he was just a lousy player. So, I suppose I’m the cause of the commotion.”
“Jonas, is that true?” the sheriff asked, turning his steely gaze to the barkeep.
“Sheriff, it seems to be the case…I mean, I cain't say that I was payin’ much attention, but Cyrus did push outta his chair yellin’ about bein’ cheated. Mathews there may know more about it than I do.”
“Um-hmm, that sound right with all you gentlemen that was playin’ with this stranger?” The sheriff asked the group of men who had jumped away from the table when the dead man first shouted. Murmurs of agreement came from several men, as well as a couple of the girls that had been near the table.
“Well then, I suppose it was a case of self-defense, but mister, I suggest you get on your horse and get out of town. Don't much like killin’ in my town.”
The man carefully reached for his gun and holstered it and went to gather the pile of coins and the few bills that lay on the table.
“No sir, the money stays,” came the deep voice of the sheriff, whose eyes were fixed on the man who was dressed a might fancier than anyone else in the room. Men dressed like that were usually bad news as far as he was concerned. In a mining town, he had enough bad news with local men, he didn't need it from a stranger.
“Alright, I suppose I'll be headin’ off then. Thank ya'll for the game. I'm sorry it ended this way.” The man reached for his hat and stood. He placed the hat on his head and pulled down the bottom of his fancy vest. He reached for his suit jacket and slipped it on, then walked out the swinging doors to his horse.
The bar started to settle back to normal. Jonas shouted, “Drinks on the house,” and quickly, the mood shifted. The men were back to spending money, even as Cyrus's body was carried out.
Rayne whispered, “Miz Martha, you alright? Maybe headin’ upstairs ain't such a good idea anymore. Let me at least buy ya a drink.”
“Mathews, can I have a word with ya?” the sheriff asked, as he took the few steps to the staircase.
“Jesus, how do I get myself into these messes?” she muttered, quietly.
“Excuse me, did ya say somethin’ there? I couldn’t quite hear ya.”
Rayne plastered a half smile on her face and spoke louder, “Uh, no sir, I didn’t say a thing. Let me just get Miz Martha here a drink first.”
“Jonas, give the lady a drink. Well look there, looks like Miz Martha is bein’ taken care of. Now, how about that talk?” Sheriff Hawks said with a tone of authority in his voice.
Rayne gave a slight nod of acceptance and led the way to a table in the corner and took a seat. The sheriff followed and took a seat himself.
“So, Sheriff, what can I do for ya?” Rayne asked, as she took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the questions.
“I know you're new to town and that you're a friend of Eunice's. Other than that, I don't know much about ya. But I want ya to know that I don't cotton much to trouble, and there is just somethin’ about you that I ain't sure about.”
“Such as?” Rayne asked, as she looked straight into the man's eyes. She knew she was being sized up and was walking a thin line. Hell, if she were in the sheriff’s shoes, she would do the same thing. She didn't like lying to people, but she also knew it was an easier world for men than it was for women.
“Well, for instance, take Miz Martha there…I seen ya was headin’ upstairs, yet ya decide to buy her a drink instead. And from what I hear, ya never really do make it to a room up there. For a single man, ya don't seem too eager for their company. Why is that?”
“Well, I get tongue tied. I seem to forget how to talk when a woman is around,” Rayne said, hoping she sounded convincing.
“Ya don't seem to have that problem with Eunice. Now why is that?” the sheriff asked.
He was curious about the town's newest inhabitant. He wasn't sure what it was about Rayne, but whatever it was brought out his protective instincts. Clinton Hawks wasn't normally a protective kind of man. In fact, even with his own son he seldom showed any kind of protectiveness, yet he couldn’t deny the feelings. Hawks was in his late forties, with compassionate eyes that saw more than he let on.
“Eunice is nice. She don't judge, and she don't pry,” Rayne spoke, looking at the floor.
“I ain't one to judge, son,” Hawks said, as he shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon iffin at some point you'll start trustin’ folks around here…least I hope you'll find you can trust me. When ya do, I'll be ready to listen. But for the time bein’, I sure could use some help keepin’ the peace. I understand you want to start a ranch around these parts. I could maybe help introduce ya to some folks. Until then, I sure wouldn't mind havin’ you as a deputy. You got grit and a keen eye for trouble. Will ya consider my offer?”
“Well, I won't lie, I could use some money, and folks ain't jumpin’ to offer advice on the property around here. Maybe with a word from you some might become friendlier,” Rayne said thoughtfully.
“Hell, son, folks around here tend to be suspicious of strangers. Everyone wants to steal their claim. Ya know?” Hawks laughed. “Come on over to my office, and I'll get ya a badge. I reckon ya know how to use those irons ya got strapped to your hip.”
“Yes sir, I do. Though I ain't proud of it.” He saw a change in those dark eyes; it was subtle but there none the same. It was a look of regret or guilt. It was the look a person had when they had taken a life and felt remorse for it. It was a look that told him Rayne respected life and didn't jump to using the Colts that were strapped to his hip. Rayne was the kind of man he wanted on his side of the law. Yup, he knew he'd made a good choice in approaching Rayne. With a little luck, he would get to know Rayne better and find out what it was that made him feel the way he did.
“Come on, son. Let's go get your badge, and I'll walk ya around town and introduce ya to folks. You can get an idea of who's friendly and who's full of shit. Then I'll bring ya back here, buy you a drink, and you and Miz Martha can…well…we'll see what happens.”
With a smile, Rayne stood. “Alright, a job sounds mighty fine. I gotta say, I'm kinda tired of sittin’ around watchin’ these gentlemen play cards.”
“Yup, I reckon that gets somewhat borin’ after a while. But then again, sometimes bein’ a lawman ain't any more exciting. Course, there's times that ya get more excitement than ya bargain for. You ain't got any aversion to shootin’ do ya?
“No sir, I ain't. I'll shoot when I gotta. I ain't yellow, but I ain't wild about killin’ a man either.”
“That's all I needed to know,” Hawks said, as they walked out of the saloon.
†
A few hours later, Deputy Mathews walked out of the sheriff's office and headed towards the stable with a big grin on her face and a badge pinned to her vest. Her ride was short, and she soon dismounted. With a spring in her step and whistling a tune, she walked through the gate and straight to the door of a white house. She opened the door and hollered, “Eunice, I got me a job!”
Eunice walked in from the kitchen. She was red faced, with a smudge of flour on her cheek, and wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What are you hollerin’ about?” Eunice asked as she smiled, then stopped in her tracks as she spotted the badge.
“I got a job; I'm the new deputy. How's about that?”
Eunice quickly regained the smile that had faltered. “Isn't that nice, but aren't you afraid of getting shot or well…” Eunice paused, frowned, then continued, “you’ve been in
disguise, and if the sheriff knew, I don't think he'd take much kindly to being duped.”
“Sheriff Hawks seems to be a reasonable man. I aim to be straight with him soon enough,” Rayne said. She just needed to get a little money saved up and a few folks to give her more than a suspicious look every time she walked into the mercantile or saloon. “Somethin’ smells good, what's for supper?”
Eunice walked to the window and looked out. “I have a chicken roasting. I was planning on some boiled potatoes, and I'm mixing up biscuits.”
Rayne watched Eunice carefully. “Whatcha lookin’ at? You expectin’ someone?”
“As a matter of fact, my husband is supposed to be getting in, anytime now. I'm hoping he gets home in time for supper.” The brunette turned to face Rayne and smiled. “Would you like a drink before supper?”
“Sounds good. So tell me more about Harry. You really don't talk much about him, how come?”
“I don't?” Eunice said in surprise. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Well, what's he do for a livin’?” Rayne took the drink Eunice offered and sat down in a parlor chair.
“Harry…well, Harry is a jack of all trades, and he knows some about farming, mining, gambling. He's done some ranching too. I think you two would get along just fine. He's a sweet man, you know, caring and kind.”
“So where's he been, and why does he let you travel alone?”
“He doesn't. Why do you say that?” Eunice asked.
“Cuz he does. You was travelin’ alone when ya came upon my ranch, and you fully planned on travelin’ here alone. And he wasn't here when we arrived. So where's he been?”
“He's actually been on a cattle buying trip,” Eunice replied distractedly. “I need to go finish the biscuits, wanna come help?”
“Sure, I suppose you'll need someone to peel them potatoes.” Rayne laughed. “I bet Harry ain't never had to worry about bein’ asked to peel potatoes… Lord knows, Lisbet asks me to do that often enough.”
Faith in Rayne Page 4