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by Christine Johnson


  Brunley was no Pearlman. Hendrick missed the tidy yards and familiar faces. He longed for the honks of a horn when customers drove past. He wished he could tear apart an engine instead of worry about two women who wished he wasn’t there. As far as he could see, the town had only a couple of cars. Not enough work for a mechanic. Not enough to keep anyone busy, apparently. Few seemed to be working.

  The Packard backed away from the building and motored down the street. It turned the corner and parked alongside the mercantile. A man in a fancy vest and cowboy hat stepped out and bounded up the mercantile steps. One of the Indians touched a finger to his tattered hat, but no one said a word. The place was quiet. Dry and quiet.

  “Dollar twenty,” the Indian said. “We can order the radiator hose, if you want.”

  Hendrick dragged his attention from the unmoving mercantile door and handed the man the five-dollar bill Anna had given him. “Yes, order it.”

  “Be back with your change.” The Indian headed for the dim interior, and Hendrick followed.

  Maybe the man could tell him about Frank Gillard. This whole quest of Mariah’s worried him. If she was right about there being something suspicious at work, the man would fight her, maybe even fight dirty. But maybe she was wrong, and Gillard was an honest man who deserved his son. For Mariah and Luke’s sake, Hendrick hoped he was.

  The Indian looked up from the cashbox, his expression unreadable. “Four-eighty in change.”

  “That’s $3.80.” Hendrick handed the man one of the dollar bills.

  The Indian’s impassive mask melted in disbelief.

  “I’m sure I’m right,” Hendrick said. “I’m not great at grammar, but I know my figures.”

  The Indian shook his head. “Not many would give that dollar back.”

  “It’s nothing. Could happen to anyone.” Hendrick looked around the small shop. No cars in the work bays, but the place was filled with engines and parts. “Nice garage. Do you get much business?”

  The Indian shrugged. “A little here and there.”

  Hendrick knew a straight shooter when he saw one. This man could be a much-needed ally in a strange town. He stuck out his hand. “My name’s Hendrick Simmons. I’m a mechanic back East.”

  The man shook his hand. “Joshua Talltree.”

  “Joshua? What a peculiar name for an Indian.”

  “We don’t all use Indian names, especially with whites. Besides, I’m mixed-blood.”

  Hendrick nodded, a bit embarrassed that he’d measured the man by common prejudice. “Sorry. I should have known better.”

  “Happens all the time. I get used to it.” A playful grin flitted across Talltree’s lips. “Sometimes I have fun with it, use it to my advantage, especially with pretty ladies.” He nodded toward the door where Anna lingered, trying to look interested in the Mobiloil sign hanging from the canopy.

  “Hey, that’s my little sister.”

  Talltree looked appropriately abashed. “Guess it’s my turn to be sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” Anyone could make that mistake. He was just a little protective of his only sister. “Do you have a sister?”

  “No. Wouldn’t mind one, though. Brothers are tough.”

  Hendrick wouldn’t know, except for Peter, who was just a foster brother and had been around for only two years. Thinking of Peter reminded him of Constance. “Do you know anything about the Beson Creek School?”

  Talltree’s guard went back up. “Why?”

  “We went there by mistake. I met a little girl named Constance. She says her mother works for a Mr. Lord. Have you heard of anyone by that name?”

  Talltree shook his head. “Most of the children there come from other tribes, far away. She’s probably not from here.”

  Hendrick’s heart sank. Maybe Mariah was right, and he shouldn’t have made a promise he might not be able to keep. He looked around the garage, wishing he could fix something, anything. His mind was at its clearest when he was tinkering away at an engine. “Too bad you don’t have any repairs. I’m dying to get my hands dirty.”

  Talltree brightened. “You don’t say. We’ve been trying to convert our hand-pumper to a powered fire engine. We have the water pump but we can’t get an engine together that’ll push the water through the hose with any pressure.”

  “What size motor are you trying?” Hendrick flung a dozen questions at Talltree, and before long the men were plotting out how to solve the problem.

  “It’d be a lot easier to get a new fire engine,” Talltree finally said with exasperation, “but the government never seems to have the money for one.”

  “That’s government for you. Guess we’ll have to build it ourselves.” Hendrick sketched a diagram on the scrap of paper Talltree provided. Within minutes he’d laid out how they could construct the fire engine. He’d need to find a solid motor and work from there. “I’d prefer six cylinders.” He looked at the blue Packard. “Wonder what we’d get from a twin-six, like the engine in that Packard. That would pump some water. Know where I might get one?”

  Talltree snorted after glancing at the car. “Not from that car. I’ll ask Judge Weiss. He owns this station and most of Brunley. He should be on his way back from Great Falls. Expect him day after tomorrow.”

  “Great. I’ll talk to him then.” Hendrick stuck out his hand again, and the Indian, after a surprised pause, shook it.

  Hendrick looked out the station’s front windows and saw Mariah leave the mercantile empty-handed. She swiveled as if waiting for someone. That someone turned out to be the fancy-dressed man from the Packard, who took her hand and assisted her down the mercantile steps. She looked up at the man and smiled. Smiled! The gesture sent a bolt of pain straight to his heart.

  “Who is that man?” he asked.

  Talltree’s lips pressed into a frown. “Frank Gillard.”

  “Gillard?” Of all the people she could meet, it had to be him.

  “I’d steer clear of that man, if I were you.”

  Hendrick’s gut wrenched. “Why?”

  Talltree wouldn’t answer, and that was all Hendrick needed to know. He took off toward Mariah at a run.

  Chapter Nine

  “Is that your friend?” Gillard’s lips curled in bemusement.

  Mariah watched in dismay as Hendrick steamed across the street, fists clenched and jaw set. Please don’t ruin this. Please. One wrong word, and Gillard would know she was an agent of the Orphaned Children’s Society with more than passing connection to Luke.

  “Hendrick,” she cried. “Meet Mr. Frank Gillard. He’s a ranch owner here.”

  He scowled. “Mr. Gillard.” His tone left no doubt he didn’t like the man.

  She did not need a showdown in the middle of the street. The Indians had gathered at the mercantile rail. Even the attendant at the filling station watched to see what would happen. She pasted on a smile.

  “Hendrick Simmons is the friend I told you about,” she said to Gillard with exaggerated cheerfulness. “He and his sister, Anna, traveled with me.” If Hendrick had an ounce of sense, he’d realize she wasn’t acting like herself.

  “Mr. Simmons.” Gillard extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Hendrick did not shake hands. Instead he turned to her. “Didn’t you get any supplies? I thought that’s why you went to the store.”

  “They’re being sent to the hotel.” She thought it best not to mention that Gillard had arranged it. “Is the car all set?”

  He nodded, still eyeing Gillard with distrust.

  She could not let Hendrick ruin her plan, which he was bound to do if he kept up this rude behavior, but she also needed him to join her. Another man’s presence would keep Gillard’s attentions in check. If she could just get a moment alone to explain the situation to Hendrick, he would work with her. She was sure of it.

  “I’d like to invite your entire party to dine at my ranch tonight,” Gillard explained to Hendrick. “Miss Mariah agreed.”

  “Isn’t that wonde
rful?” She shot Hendrick a piercing glare, trying to tell him to go along with the invitation and she would explain everything later. “We’ll follow Mr. Gillard in my car.”

  “Nonsense, Mr. Simmons can drive your car.” Gillard laid a proprietary hand on her arm. “I don’t want to miss out on one enchanting moment with you.”

  Hendrick looked like he was going to gag. “That’s not proper.”

  Mariah knew Hendrick was right, and she shouldn’t accept Gillard’s suggestion, but she might learn something important if Hendrick and Anna weren’t present.

  Gillard wasted no time rectifying the situation. “Your girlfriend can join us. Miss Anna, is it? Where is she?”

  Where indeed? Mariah looked around and spotted the girl lingering behind the filling station attendant. “Anna?” She waved her over.

  The girl came at a snail’s pace, dragging her feet the entire way. Though Hendrick still looked displeased, he had no grounds to protest.

  “We’re dining at Mr. Gillard’s ranch tonight. You’ll ride with us,” Mariah explained when Anna finally arrived. “And Hendrick will follow with my car.”

  Gillard gallantly offered his arm to Anna. She looked back longingly at the attendant before accepting Gillard’s escort.

  Their departure gave Mariah the time she needed to explain. “I need you to help me tonight.”

  Hendrick’s facial muscles tightened. “What are you thinking? Going to his house for supper? I thought you hated him.”

  “It’s a chance to find out what sort of man he really is. This Frank Gillard is nothing like the man who dropped Luke off at the orphanage. He’s well-to-do and well-spoken.”

  “A model father, then?”

  She brushed off the sarcasm. “That’s not my point. I’m saying he doesn’t fit the agency record. He can’t possibly be Luke’s father, unless a whole lot has happened in two-and-a-half years. This dinner gives me the opportunity to get some answers, and I need your help to do it.”

  Hendrick’s frown deepened. “Joshua Talltree said—”

  “I don’t care what anyone said.” Mariah did not have time for debate. Gillard would be back in seconds. “I need to do this.” She panicked as Gillard rounded the corner of the building and headed toward her. “Please, Hendrick. You promised you would help.”

  His jaw worked as he glanced toward Gillard, fast approaching. “It’s dangerous.” Only he said it too loudly.

  “What’s dangerous?” Gillard asked.

  “Nothing,” Mariah said hastily. She shot Hendrick a glare, pleading for him to hold his tongue.

  His gaze raked her to the soul, and she closed her eyes, waiting for him to ruin her plan.

  Instead he said, “She’s right. It’s nothing.”

  Relief surged through her. Hendrick would help.

  Gillard’s ranch lay seventeen miles from town and could be reached only by dirt trails. By the time they arrived, Hendrick was coated in dust and fuming at Mariah. She’d cut him off, hadn’t given him a chance to tell her what Talltree had said about Gillard and then pranced off with the man in his car.

  It didn’t get any better in the house. Gillard gave them a tour of his palace, and she followed like a puppy dog while he boasted about his expensive china and Indian art.

  “That’s a Sioux chief’s headdress.” Gillard pointed to the dramatic beaded and feathered war bonnet hanging on the living room wall. It looked like it had been part of a Wild West show, not something actually worn in war. “I got it for practically nothing.”

  Hendrick watched Gillard’s every move. After Talltree’s warning, Hendrick suspected Gillard was every bit as bad as Mariah had anticipated and possibly worse. The man fawned over her. He barely acknowledged anyone else. Most women would find the attention thrilling, and judging by the way she laughed at his bad jokes and encouraged him to tell her about every object, she did, too. By the time they reached the dining room, Hendrick wished he’d insisted Mariah stay in town.

  Gillard frowned at the empty table. “One moment, please.” He rang a silver bell sitting on the sideboard.

  Within seconds, an Indian woman remarkably close to Mariah’s height and build appeared through the other door.

  “Set three more places for dinner,” Gillard instructed tersely without ever looking at her.

  Hendrick didn’t miss the implicit social hierarchy. The woman, her black hair coiled into a knot at the back of her head, nodded without a word, eyes averted, as if afraid to directly address her employer. Dressed in a plain brown skirt, reminiscent of the Beson Creek School uniform, she blended into the background, in Gillard’s eyes less important than his prized art collection.

  After the woman left, Gillard took Mariah’s hand. “Let’s continue the tour.”

  He led them through every downstairs room on the way to the guest bedrooms in the east wing. The house was enormous. There must be room for ten or more to sleep, yet other than the servants, only one man lived here, king of his private domain.

  At the head of the east hallway, Gillard pressed Mariah’s hand to his lips yet again. Hendrick clenched his fists to keep from ripping it away.

  “If you’d like to freshen up before dinner,” Gillard told her, “I’ve had a pitcher of water and a washbasin brought to this bedroom.” He opened the door to escort her inside, but Anna squirted past him.

  “Look at it, Mariah. Just look. The furniture. The bed.”

  Hendrick didn’t fail to notice the combination of lustful hunger and disappointment flash across Gillard’s face before the artificial smile returned.

  “It’s nothing, just a little haven from the trials of frontier life.” Gillard focused entirely on Mariah. “I’m sure you’re dusty from so much travel. If you’d like a bath, just ring, and one of the servants will draw the water for you. When you’re ready, please join me in the dining room.”

  Thankfully, the man did not enter the room. He bid Mariah farewell with a slight bow, and then on his way back to the main part of the house he muttered to Hendrick, “There’s a servant’s washroom at the end of the hall.”

  A servant’s washroom. Hendrick’s frayed temper threatened to break.

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Mariah said softly after Gillard was gone. She hadn’t left Hendrick’s side. In fact, she closed the bedroom door behind her to give them a moment alone in the hallway. “It’s probably the only room he had available.”

  He glanced at the five closed doors. “Why are you making excuses for him?”

  “I’m not making excuses. I’m simply trying to find a reasonable explanation. We are unexpected guests, after all.”

  “You’re giving him the benefit of the doubt?”

  “Exactly. It’s the right thing to do.” She spoke calmly, but red dotted her cheeks.

  She was more flustered by this man than she was letting on. Hadn’t she heard Sowich’s warning? Maybe she’d take heed once she knew Talltree said the same thing.

  “Joshua Talltree knows Frank Gillard.”

  “Talltree?” She stood far too close, and the shimmer of her hazel eyes threatened to distract him. “You mentioned his name before.” Her gaze softened, embracing him in ways that made him wish they could start all over again.

  “Talltree,” he breathed, gathering his wits. There was nothing between them. She’d made that perfectly clear. He squeezed his fists until they ached. “He’s the attendant at the filling station.”

  “Ah. Anna was fascinated by him, wasn’t she?”

  “This isn’t about Anna.” He tried to regain focus. Her gentle smile made his thoughts scatter. He looked away. “This is about your friend, Mr. Gillard.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “Is that so? It sure looked like it.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “There’s no reason to be jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’m concerned about your reputation, a lot more than you are.”

  “I am perfectly in control,” she said quiet
ly, even as her gaze drifted from him. “Now, what did Mr. Talltree tell you?”

  “To steer clear of Gillard.” The words hung between them like fog.

  “I see.”

  But he could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn’t see. She didn’t even believe him. He had to make her understand the danger she was in. “What do you think he’s going to do when he learns what you really want?”

  She stared at the wall over his right shoulder.

  “I gather you didn’t tell him yet,” he said.

  “I…” Her voice trailed off as if she wasn’t sure she should tell him something. “Trust me, Hendrick. Things aren’t always what they appear to be.”

  He placed a hand on the wall to each side of her. “What are you doing, Mariah?” He wanted to wrestle her from this place before something awful happened, but she would hate him for it. Once Mariah set her mind to something, no one could change it.

  Her gaze flickered over his face. “For some reason he is trying to win me over. If I play along with it for tonight, I might learn the truth about him—why he wants Luke, why he doesn’t fit the description in the agency record, who he really is. I might even be able to persuade him to give up his pursuit of Luke. Please, Hendrick, for tonight, just follow along with what I do.”

  He didn’t like it, but he’d never been able to refuse her. “Tonight only, but if he hurts you…”

  She lightly cupped his jaw. “I know you’ll be there for me.”

  Her light hazel eyes, the smell of her, the softness of her skin. They were so close. He leaned closer, whispered softly inches from her lips. “I will.”

  With the flutter of a smile, she turned and darted into the bedroom, leaving him alone in an empty hallway.

  Mariah had come so close to letting him kiss her. Back in the safety of the bedroom, she pressed her back against the closed door and tried to stop the trembling in her limbs. Being so near Hendrick was overwhelming, like sitting in a room filled with fragrant roses.

  “Mariah, Mariah, you have to see this!” Anna tugged at her hands until she opened her eyes.

 

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