Just West of Heaven

by Maureen Child

  “Ridge did the bandaging, honey. When he brought you home last night, you was all taken care of and singing.”

  “Singing?” she repeated, horrified at the idea.

  “Yes, indeedy,” Hattie said with a grin. “Quite a little ditty, as I recall.”

  “Oh, please...” Sophie murmured, hoping this was all a hideous dream.

  Hattie’s smile widened even further as she tipped her head back, tapped her index finger to her chin, and mused, “Let’s see now, it was somethin’ about a man named Finnegan and the wake his friends gave him.”

  “’Finnegan’s Wake’?” Sophie moaned silently at the humiliation of it all. Not only was she quite possibly the world’s worst singer, but she’d chosen to sing an old Irish drinking song that had been one of her stepfather’s favorites.

  “I’ll have to leave town after all,” she whispered.

  Hattie laughed. “Not until you teach me that song, you’re not. Had quite a little bouncy lilt to it. You was even doing a dance that had some mighty fancy steps.”

  This just kept getting worse as the seconds ticked past.

  “I did a jig?” she asked, cringing.

  “That’s what you called it,” Hattie told her. “Lots of jumping and your feet just flyin’ like they’d minds of their own.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

  She hadn’t done a jig since before her stepfather had died and that was more than four years ago now.

  Chuckling, Hattie shook her head. “Don’t be so bothered by it, honey. We sure weren’t.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Elias and Ridge, o’course, though he wouldn’t dance no matter how many times you asked him.”

  She’d asked Ridge to dance with her. She’d done a jig, sung a song, and in general made a complete jackass of herself. Well, at least now she knew why she couldn’t remember what she’d done the night before. Her mind had thankfully blacked it out.

  “There’s no excuse for my behavior,” she finally said, pausing a moment to inhale the delicious scent of the coffee until she felt the fog in her mind begin to lift. Which she wasn’t entirely sure was a good idea.

  “Don’t need an excuse, child,” Hattie told her as she scurried about the room, dusting this, straightening that, all with a brisk, no-nonsense manner. “Everybody’s had a snootful at one time or another, I expect.”

  “Not where I come from,” Sophie said softly, trying to imagine some of her more straitlaced neighbors with a “snootful.” But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t quite carry it off. And what those neighbors would have had to say if they’d seen her dancing and singing drunkenly in the streets didn’t bear thinking of.

  “Piffle.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Hattie came back to the bed and tugged at the quilt atop the mattress until every last wrinkle had surrendered. “You ain’t from there anymore, are you?”

  “What?” Sophie said after a swallow of hot, wonderful black coffee. Its strength seemed to seep into her bones and she felt as though, with a little luck, she might not slide off the face of the earth.

  “I said, you’re not from there anymore. You’re from here.” Hattie planted both hands at her hips, cocked her head to one side, and looked down at her meaningfully. “This is home now, isn’t it? Here in Tanglewood? You’re one of us. So what do you care what some beady-eyed, long-nosed so-and-sos back East might say?”

  You’re one of us.

  Tears stung the backs of Sophie’s eyes at the simple words that meant so much. She’d been accepted. She was a part of this town every bit as much as it had become a part of her. And apparently, not even an evening of dancing and singing in the streets’ was enough to change that. She and Jenna belonged.

  At least, she thought, until people started whispering. Until the rumors began flying. Until Tanglewood became too much like Albany. After all, as Hattie had said, everyone got a “snootful” once in a while, but not everyone could see into the future. And those who couldn’t were generally afraid of those who could.

  Regret pooled within her as Sophie realized that she must prepare herself for the inevitable. Hattie and the few others who had guessed about Jenna’s “gift” didn’t seem concerned, true. But that had been the case back home as well.

  There’d been a handful of people who either hadn’t cared or hadn’t believed the rumors about the women in the Dolan family. But unfortunately, it was the others—those people ready to believe the worst about anything—who were the loudest.

  “Am I right?” Hattie asked.

  “Hmm?” Brought back from her thoughts, Sophie forced a smile on the woman who had become her first real friend.

  A small line of worry etched itself into the space between Hattie’s blond eyebrows. “You are one of us now, aren’t ya? I mean, you’re not plannin’ on leavin’ or anything, are ya?”

  Not unless Ridge showed up with a pair of handcuffs. But there was no point in courting trouble. Not when it would find her soon enough on its own. Meanwhile, she would try to enjoy the sensation of belonging. The feeling of being wanted. Needed. For however long it lasted.

  “You’re absolutely right, Hattie,” she said and watched the other woman’s smile blossom. “I belong here, now. Tanglewood is home.”

  The other woman smiled in satisfaction.

  And only silently did Sophie add, For now.

  ●

  “A kidnapper? Here? In Tanglewood?”

  Ridge hissed out a breath and gave a quick look around and behind him. Thankfully, the three-times­weekly train had just pulled out of the station, leaving the tiny depot as empty as a fool’s wallet. A blast from the departing train whistle rattled the office windowpanes and the slow chug of iron wheels on steel tracks vibrated across the floor. Ridge glanced outside, but years’ worth of grime encrusted the windows, so that the world beyond the glass looked like little more than a shadowy blur of movement.

  “We’ve never had a kidnapper before. Imagine that, someone out there stealing children.” He clucked his tongue. What on earth is the world coming to?”

  Scowling, Ridge shifted his gaze back to the man opposite him. If there’d been any other way to do this, he would have found it. But be was trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea and he needed help. Fast.

  Slapping his palms flat onto the countertop, he said, “Now damn it, Clarence, this is official business.”

  “No need to get your back up, Sheriff,” the little man on the other side of the counter said with a sniff. His thick spectacles magnified tiny black eyes, and his nose twitched in readiness for one of his constant sneezes. His short, thin fingers unnecessarily smoothed the telegraph message with quick, nervous strokes until Ridge wanted to jump out of his own skin. The rabbity little man always made him a little skittish.

  Clarence ran the train depot, the freight office, and the telegrapher’s office, mainly because no one else wanted the jobs. He wore a white shirt with sleeve garters and a green visor positioned low enough over his spectacles that he had to tip his head back to look up.

  “All I asked was if we should be worried about a criminal on the loose.”

  “You just worry about loose tongues, Clarence.”

  The little man pursed his lips and tapped his fingertips against the counter. “I took an oath, y’know.”

  “Just so you remember, ‘cause I’m tellin’ you,” Ridge continued, his voice low and meaningful, “that if I hear so much as a whisper of a mention about what’s in that wire, I’ll slap you into a cell faster’n you can sneeze.”

  “Ahhhhhh-choooo!”

  Ridge frowned. “Bless you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now you send that wire fast, Clarence. Then you bring me the answer yourself.”

  The man swallowed hard and looked as if he might argue the point
, then thought better of it. “Right away.”

  Ridge stood there a moment or two longer, watching the little fella turn, take a seat behind the desk, and rest his fingertips on the telegraph key. As the delicate clicks sounded out, Ridge thought about the words on that wire and hoped he’d been specific enough without giving too much away.

  Wanted poster from Pinkertons stop Female kidnapper stop Need any information you have on who issued poster stop Ridge end

  Through the magic of the telegraph wires, his old friend U.S. Marshal Sam Bennet, all the way in New Mexico Territory, would be receiving that cable within the next hour or two. Then hopefully Ridge would get some answers from the one man he could trust. The man who’d made him a lawman.

  Irritation rode him hard and Ridge left the depot office a moment or two later, unable to stand still. He stepped out from under the overhang and into the street. He’d have to keep a sharp eye on Clarence. Not that the man was much of a gossip. But Ridge couldn’t afford to take a chance this time. He didn’t want talk of hunting down a kidnapper to get back to Sophie. At least, not until he’d had a chance to figure out what to do. A couple of kids ran by, kicking up dust as they went. A heavy farm wagon creaked along the street, its wheels etching the ruts in the road a little deeper.

  Afternoon sunlight warmed Ridge’s back but did little to ease the chill inside as he tried to figure out what his next move should be.

  And the fact that he was so damned confused was what really had the burr under his saddle, so to speak. His back teeth ground together and he kicked at a rock in his path. Damn it all to hell and back, this should be easy. He had a wanted poster. He had Sophie. She should be in jail. Simple.

  But nothing about Sophie Ryan was simple as he well knew. Hard to believe that it was only a couple short weeks ago that she’d stepped off that train and thrown his life into complete discombobulation.

  Hat brim pulled low over his eyes, he kept walking down that familiar street and silently wondered why it all felt so different today. But he knew the answer to that question well enough. It was because of her and the mystery that surrounded her. Sophie Ryan. Or Dolan or whatever the hell her name was.

  That woman had somehow wormed her way under his skin until he couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have her to spar with. When he couldn’t hear the click of her heels against the wooden walkway. When he didn’t dream about holding her, touching her, tasting her.

  “Hey, boss!”

  Grumbling, he half turned to look at Tall, ducking his head to leave the restaurant. The deputy loped lazily across the street, dodging in and out of the way of horses and wagons. Stopping in front of Ridge, he grinned and said, “I been lookin’ for you.”

  “That’s why you’re a lawman, Tall,” Ridge said, forcing a smile. “You found me.” When the other man only looked confused, he asked, “What did you need me for?”

  “Oh, it ain’t me, boss,” he said “Miss Sophie? She’s wantin’ to talk to ya. Said you should come over to the schoolhouse.”

  “She did, huh?” Ridge glanced off in the direction of the school and asked, “She say what about?”

  “No, sir, she didn’t,” Tall answered then grinned. “She just said you should come.”

  He’d been summoned. Like a peasant called to the Lady of the Manor. If she wanted to see him then she could damn well come to him herself. Who the hell did she think she was, sending his deputy out on errands? A slow burn churned in his gut and Ridge let it rip. Better he be mad than all torn up with want and need that couldn’t be satisfied.

  Abruptly, he turned around and started for the livery stable.

  “Boss?” Tall called after him. “Ain’t you goin’ to see Miss Sophie?”

  He stopped and a horse and rider were forced to go around him. The cowboy muttered something insulting, but he paid no attention. Glancing back over his shoulder, he said, “No, I’m not. You tell Sophie that I’m a shade too busy to come runnin’ just ‘cause she crooked her finger.”

  Tall just nodded, though his expression said plainly that he’d rather not deliver that message.

  Still grumbling, Ridge stomped off toward Toby’s. What he needed was some distance. Some time away from Sophie so that he could think clearly. But even as he thought it, he knew it was no use. Because thoughts of Sophie were always with him now. He was never free of her image, her voice, her scent.

  And those same dreams would be haunting him even if he had to lock her up. Only then, he’d be tormented with visions of sparkling green eyes trapped behind cold, steel bars.

  He hardly looked at Toby as he went straight back to the farthest stall where he kept his own horse. Throwing the blanket and saddle on the big animal’s back, Ridge cursed whatever laughing gods had sent this woman to him.

  And as he stepped into the stirrup and swung aboard the horse, he dared those same gods to take her from him now.

  CHAPTER Fifteen

  She walked slowly through the newly finished schoolhouse, letting her fingertips trail across the sanded tabletops. Her footsteps echoed in the room and she realized it was the first time she’d been alone in the building since this had all begun. But the men had completed the work yesterday and now all that remained to do was paint the structure.

  And with the painting party scheduled for tomorrow, she could hold her first official class by Monday morning.

  Hopefully, the throbbing ache behind her eyes would have disappeared by then. Sighing softly, she reached up and robbed the spot between her eyes, but finding no relief, she gave it up. Just punishment, she told herself, and there was more to come.

  Facing Ridge Hawkins after what had happened last night was not something she was looking forward to. But she had to do it. And not just to apologize for her drunken behavior. But to find out just what exactly she might have said to him.

  Sophie’s stomach rolled as a wave of nervousness passed over her.

  She laced her fingers together at her waist and continued pacing. Her mind raced from one thought to the next, each more horrifying than the one before. If she’d told him everything, he might even now be on his way to the schoolhouse determined to arrest her.

  What if he brought a posse? Oh, good God, perhaps he’d march her down Main Street with her hands tied behind her back. Children would throw stones at her. Decent women would turn away and men would shout crude remarks.

  Was tarring and feathering still fairly commonplace?

  And once in jail, then what? Would he send her back to Charles? Or would she go directly to prison? And what would happen to Jenna?

  Oh Lord. Jenna.

  Maybe he’d already picked the girl up from Hattie’s. Maybe the poor little thing was right now sitting in a jail cell, crying her heart out while Ridge Hawkins stood over her mouthing platitudes about the law being the law.

  Nervousness abated and in its place came the soft, certain stirrings of anger. More comfortable with that emotion, Sophie encouraged it, giving in to the embers of righteous indignation quickening in her belly. How dare he frighten a child? How dare he set himself up as judge and jury? How dare he decide that she, Sophie, wasn’t fit to be a teacher? Or Jenna’s mother.

  That he’d done none of these things didn’t seem to matter at the moment. Her imagination had already shown her the lengths to which he’d go to protect his law. His town.

  “Well,” she muttered darkly, staring at the stark, empty surface of the chalkboard. “If Ridge Hawkins thinks I will slink quietly away, he’s delusional.”

  “What’s that mean, exactly?”

  She spun around to face the man who’d entered the schoolhouse without her even noticing. Heaving a relieved breath, she said, “Deputy. You startled me.”

  “Sorry, ma’ am,” he said, then frowned. “But that word, ‘delu—’”

  “’Delusional.’”

  “That’s the
one. What’s that mean?”

  She could hardly give him the definition of the word, since she’d used it to describe the man’s employer. So instead she said, “Another time, Deputy.” Then she looked past him at the empty doorway and the yard beyond. “Where is the sheriff?”

  Tall ducked his head and reached up to run one finger around the inside of his collar like a man trying to stretch out a noose for a little extra breathing room. “He ain’t comin’, ma’am.”

  “He ain’t?” she repeated.

  “No, ma’ am,” Tall said. “He, uh...”

  “He what?” Sophie demanded and took a step toward the man.

  He backed up. “Well, ma’am, Ridge said he was too busy to come a-runnin’ just ‘cause you said so.”

  Instantly, the small fire burning within erupted, sending sparks of flame to every inch of her body. Here she stood, ready to apologize, to humble herself in front of that man, and he refused to come? Sophie took several small, even breaths, but rather than cooling her off, the extra air just seemed to fan those flames into a near inferno. “And may I ask what he is so busy doing?”

  Tall winced. He knew an angry woman when he saw one, and damned if he didn’t experience a sharp stab of pity for Ridge. Poor man. When this female caught up to him, it would be like a mountain lion cuttin’ loose on a housecat. Just wasn’t fair, he thought. Men were raised to treat a woman kind and gentle, but when that woman turned on you, there was just plain nothing you could do to fight back. Except maybe to get out of her way. Which was just what he planned to do. Ridge was on his own.

  “I saw him go on over to Toby’s. I figure he took his horse out for a ride on the mountain.”

  Her red eyebrows shot straight up on her forehead and Tall knew instantly he’d said the wrong thing.

  “He went for a ride? That’s his important business?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” He gave her a tentative answer. Hell, when she said it like that, it didn’t sound so good.

  “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” she whispered, more to herself than to him, and Tall was grateful. She sailed past him like he wasn’t even there and when she hit the front porch he swore her feet never touched the ground. Hefting the hem of her skirt up clear of the dirt, she marched like a soldier on parade straight for Toby’s place.