Her Secret Shame

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Her Secret Shame Page 12

by Christine Sterling


  As Samantha took a sip of her now cold tea, she saw in the corner of her eye a scurry of movement. She saw that it was Mary, who had accidently dropped a few plates on the ground. Clover was over her in an instant, waving her arms around. She was doing her best to keep her voice down, as to not disturb the other patrons, but Samantha could hear the loud whispers enough to know she was being overly harsh. Mary trembled under Clover’s gaze and once the woman was through, she bent down to pick up the pieces.

  Samantha then remembered the first interactions she had seen between Mary and Misty. Maybe she knew where Misty was? It was worth the waddle over to meet her. Samantha slowly got up from her chair and walked over slowly to where Mary was sitting down on the ground. She could hear the young girl sniffling and it just made Samantha’s heart break. “Mary, do you need any help?” she offered, though she knew most likely she wouldn’t be able to offer any help, as she couldn’t bend down without falling over.

  The young girl looked up, rubbing her nose as she sniffled again. “Oh no, Mrs. Jenkins. No, really, I’m fine. It was my fault anyway. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “This isn’t anything to cry over. I will tell you I dropped so many more dishes when I was working here for the few days. If Mr. Higgins didn’t throw me out after that, you have nothing to worry about,” she said with a wink.

  She thought that this would cheer the girl up, but all it did was make Mary offer a weak smile. Mary grabbed the last bit of the plates and set them back on the table, before letting out another cry. Samantha went to the girl, touching her check. “What is wrong Mary?”

  “I don’t really know. Misty has been gone for a few days. That sheriff said he was going to fix everything and bring her back, but all he’s been doing is patrolling around. And I’m scared because I haven’t seen her in days and there have been murmurs around the hotel.”

  “Murmurs? What kind of murmurs?”

  Mary looked at Samantha, shaking her head. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Of course, you can. I think it will make you feel better if you tell someone. You can’t keep such emotions inside.” When the girl still shook her head, she took both her hands to grasp Mary’s. “Misty and I have known each other for a really long time. I consider her a dear friend, almost a sister. If there is anything I can do to help her, I would do it. Anything. All you have to do is ask. So please, let me help.”

  Mary’s lips trembled, and she looked around the room. Samantha looked with her, noticing that Clover wasn’t in the room anymore. “We can’t talk about it here. Let’s go to the back alley,” she said, as she led Samantha through the empty kitchen and into the back alley. There was nothing but a few baskets of laundry that needed to be washed. Mary looked around, making sure that they were alone before she turned back to Samantha. “Misty is at the Henderson ranch.”

  “Henderson? As in John Henderson’s ranch?” Samantha said, surprised.

  “Yes, something happened. It was all my fault. My sister, she got into some trouble and the sheriff got her out of it. But he told everyone they were married so she could leave here.”

  “Married?” Samantha was astonished as she tried to keep her composure. Misty was married to John and she didn’t know about it? If she found out that Seth had known about this, she was going to kill him.

  “But that isn’t important. She sent me a letter. She thinks that there is something going on at the hotel. I was listening to some of the girls. Clover was upset because Misty wasn’t supposed to end up being saved. She was supposed to be caught with those gentlemen that night.”

  Samantha wasn’t following the conversation. “Mary, I don’t understand.”

  “Clover runs a business in the hotel. For…gentleman…at night,” she said in the lowest tone. It took a while for Samantha to connect the words, but when she did, her eyes went into wide circles. “I was naive. I thought Clover was helping me. But she wasn’t. She was using me to get to Misty. Only, it didn’t work. And I guess it was bad because Clover was saying that there was going to be a punishment for what happened. And now I’m afraid, because Misty is all by herself on that ranch with that woman.”

  Samantha knew only of John’s sister, who lived on the ranch. She had never met the girl, as she didn’t leave the ranch often, if at all. She had only heard she was sickly. She wouldn’t think that this was a threat. “What makes you think Misty is in danger?”

  “Because of the name. The name of the sister is the same name of the woman Clover is afraid of retribution from. Beatrice.”

  The girl started to sob in her arms. Samantha hugged her close, whispering in the girl’s ear soothing words. “Then all we have to do is go get Misty from this place.”

  Chapter 14

  Misty was hanging up her third set of sheets. How can one woman have so many sheets to hang up? She felt Beatrice was now punishing her by making her wash and rewash all the clothes in the house. Not that she minded too much; this was better than the time Beatrice made her dig that hole for nothing. She had already fed the chickens for the day. She was glad that they didn’t have any cattle on the ranch; she figured if there were cattle, then her chores would be even more extensive.

  She looked at the men in the distance, as they were galloping around on their horses. Mathis and Henry had been there since the morning, greeting John before he left for town. They had lain in bed for the morning, making love and learning about each other. He was a tender lover and held her each evening until Misty fell asleep. When they awoke, Misty found his arms still around her and she just laid there relishing the comfort. It was nice, until John had to go into town to take care of cattle rustler issues. He said he was confident the issue would be resolved by the night and then they could talk about their future.

  Tonight, she was going to do her best to let her new husband know they would probably need to live away from his sister. Or at least, do something about the way Beatrice treated her, because she felt she couldn’t deal with this forever. And she wanted to have forever with John. She smiled to herself, thinking about their future together. She had never allowed herself to think about that. After her experience with Randy, she never thought she would be able to love anyone ever again. And, yet, here she was.

  As she was staring into space, blissfully thinking of how many blond-haired babies they would have together, she almost didn’t catch the movement of the cattle coming onto her side of the ranch. Cattle she knew didn’t belong there. She focused on one cow, one that had a little a blue bow on it. She remembered it. Samantha had told her about one in particular she had become attached to when she was tending to the Jenkins/Barrett herd. Seth told her not to get attached as the steers were their source of income. But she couldn’t help it; she named it Betty and made it a little blue bow. Seth was frustrated, especially since Betty was a male, but allowed her to have that little bit of fun.

  And then it became clear, everything that she had witnessed. The men running around and the hushed whispers. They were the cattle rustlers! It must be the reason Beatrice was making her do all the useless chores. They were only distractions, so she wouldn’t notice what was going on in the ranch.

  She turned away, trying to think about how she was going to tell John that his sister was involved in the cattle rustling. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice that a wagon had creeped onto the hill that she was on until arms encircled her. “Misty!” cried someone behind her, as she turned around to see that it was Mary who was holding her.

  “Mary!” she exclaimed, turning to hold her sister back. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “I’m the one who brought her,” said another voice. Samantha turned in Mary’s arms to see Samantha climbing down from the wagon. When she hit the ground, she waddled over, holding her belly. “We are going to bring you back into town. You aren’t safe here.”

  It took moments for Misty to digest what they were telling her. And then fear started to replace her shock. “You two have to go.”

>   “Why?” Mary asked, still holding Misty’s waist.

  “I don’t understand,” Samantha added.

  “It’s not safe for you to be here,” Misty stated, trying to steer the two women away from the land next to them, which held Betty and the rest of the cattle that Misty knew were from the same place. “You two need to get back in this wagon and go back to the town.”

  “But we can’t leave without you,” said Samantha, dragging her feet. “You are in danger. That woman who you are with, Beatrice, she’s not to be trusted.”

  “I know already, but you two also shouldn’t be here either. And if she finds out that you are here, it’s going to be worse,” she explained, while she tried to help Mary back into the wagon.

  Samantha stubbornly turned away from Misty. “I’m not leaving without you. So, it would be easier if you…” she started to say, before her eyes zeroed into the place Misty didn’t want her to see. “What is Betty doing here? Seth told me that she was taken a few weeks ago by those bandits…”

  Before Misty could say another word, there was the rustling of leaves. Both women turned around to see Beatrice standing behind them, with a wicked grin on her face.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” she said, her face twisting with humor.

  Misty could not think of another time where she was more terrified.

  Clover was getting a bad feeling. She heard through the girls that Samantha Jenkins was making it her personal mission to find Misty Fields. It wasn’t as if Clover didn’t have enough problems. Beatrice Henderson was already angry at her for not following through with her plan to destroy Misty. Clover was always confused as to why Beatrice was so focused on this girl. True, Misty was a thorn in her side ever since she came to the hotel. She didn’t play by the same rules as all her other girls and when she tried to wrangle her into the line of work, she would brush her off. Which was a pity; her red hair was enough to fetch a fair price, unlike her other unimpressive girls. But then Misty made everything harder on her; she would flinch if a man even looked in her direction. Which was bad business when you were running a secret brothel.

  Then there was her unusual relationship with the town sheriff. It started even on the first night she was here, when he came in and introduced her to Higgins, and then he would loiter around, as if trying to get her attention. Clover had to get more creative in her secretiveness. She had hoped that getting Misty on her staff would have solved the problem, but Misty had proved to be a hard one to crack. Honestly, she had just wanted to move on. But Beatrice wouldn’t let it go. She wanted to destroy her, as she felt she was a distraction for her brother. Personally, Clover thought it would be a good distraction. Then he wouldn’t be so focused on other things, like the cattle trade Beatrice had gotten into.

  But when Beatrice wanted something, Beatrice got it. It was in those times that Clover had missed Heller the most. He wouldn’t have let this go down as it did. That’s how they had hatched the plan to get Misty into some sort of trouble. It was hard at first, because Misty tended to stay away from Clover. But Clover noticed the unusual interest she took in the new girl. That angle was easier than Clover had thought it would be; she had figured she was going to have to work harder. But Misty came willingly; just even the threat of Mary being in any sort of compromising place was just too much. She couldn’t believe how far Misty was willing to give herself up to save the little girl. She wondered what their connection was; it must have been something deep. Clover had thought they might be related, but she quickly disregarded the notion. They looked nothing alike, so it didn’t make any sense.

  The pieces were falling into place. It was just so easy, too easy even. Clover should have known that something was going to happen to mess everything up. That damn sheriff had to interfere again. And the crazy idea that they were married?!? Clover knew it wasn’t true; if Beatrice knew, then she would have heard about it. When Mr. Higgins forced Misty out of the hotel, Clover was secretly glad. Then it would be Beatrice’s problem; she could go about her business without any interference. She speculated this was why she hadn’t received any communication from the ranch in days.

  She looked around the dining room, searching for Samantha. She never liked the girl; if it wasn’t for her appearance in Black Hills, then she would be Mrs. Jenkins. It was only a matter of time before Seth would have feelings for her. And if that didn’t work, then there was always going to be Tom Barrett. But alas, that was also a failed dream, for he was hitched as soon as Seth was. She sighed, trying to fold her napkins into little squares. Was it too much to ask for her to have someone to take care of her? She wasn’t asking for love. Not even lust. Just someone to take care of her, so she wouldn’t have to keep up with this charade. She didn’t think she could ever love someone. She had seen what it had done to Heller; it had killed him, by his own lover’s brother. If he had left well enough alone, he would have been alive at this moment and she wouldn’t have Beatrice Henderson breathing down her neck.

  Once she had folded the napkins, she set them to the side, surveying the room once again. It was then that she noticed that Mary was also missing. Where was that girl? She had told her to clear the tables in the dining room and then go to the back and finish the laundry. She looked and saw that only one table had been cleared. Fuming she marched through the kitchen to see if Mary was outside. So, help her, if that girl wasn’t doing her chores…

  She burst outside, looking around an empty alley. “Mary! Where are you?” she called out, looking around to see if she could see the girl. From the basket full of unwashed clothes, she could tell the girl wasn’t here. She scratched her head, thinking about where the girl could have gone. She was distracted, she didn’t see someone walk behind her. She turned and ran into something rock solid. When she looked up, she saw that it was the sheriff.

  “Woah, Sheriff, I didn’t see you,” she said, rubbing her face. She wondered why the sheriff was back there but didn’t think about it too hard. Maybe he was just walking around. He did a lot of that, Clover had noticed, like he was observing everything to see if anything was out of the ordinary. It always made her on alert, as she verified that all her movements brought no attention to her. “Were you looking for something?” Clover asked, trying to be as polite as possible even though all she wanted to do was to escape back into the hotel. “Mr. Higgins isn’t in today; he’s out traveling for a few days.”

  The sheriff scratched his chin, looking around at his surroundings. She had never felt the sheriff was a danger; she had always regarded him as an exaggerated hero. It could be the bitterness inside her, knowing what he did. Yet, in this moment, she felt nervous. The look in his eyes spelled trouble. “I’m actually here to see you,” he said after a few moments.

  Clover was now alarmed. There was no reason for him to see her; unless he knew something. “It’s not a good time; I’m actually in the middle of locating someone,” she said, as she grabbed the nearest basket for cover. “And there are so many chores. So, if it’s not pressing, I think you should drop by tomorrow,” she said, as she tried to go by him.

  She only got a few inches in front of him, before he grabbed the basket and set it back down. “You will talk to me now,” he said, in an authoritative voice she had never heard from him before. This must be the version of the sheriff that she had only heard of; the one that people feared.

  Chapter 15

  John had never been violent towards a woman before. He had never felt the need; most of the woman he interacted with were passive. The only woman who had ever challenged him was the spitfire, redheaded Misty, and even she had never physically attacked him. But now that he was staring into Clover Kelly’s black eyes, he thought this might be the first time.

  She let go of the basket she was holding and backed into the wall. She put her hands up in surrender. “What is it that you want?”

  It took everything in his power not to harm her in some way. He didn’t think he was mad at her for the predicament that she landed M
ary and Misty in, but the more he looked at her, the angrier he got. He couldn’t believe that right under his nose, she was running a disgusting business right in the establishment of a man he respected. It made him sick. But knowing that she was also involved with the cattle rustling made him even more angry. All he wanted to know was how she was doing it. As he had seen before, she had never really left the hotel. How would she have the means?

  He held the evidence in his pocket, pressing it between his fingers before he spoke. “I think you know why I am here.”

  “I do not. You are disturbing my work, so I want you to leave,” she said, with the utmost authority she still thought she had. John wanted to laugh. She had no idea how much trouble she was in.

  He took out the piece of cloth. “I want you to tell me what this is?” he said, holding the cloth in his hand. She looked at it, and as she was examining it in his fingers, her face started to lose its color. She put her hands to her sides, trying to steady herself. “I have never seen that before.”

  “Miss Kelly, you know it’s wrong to lie to a peace officer. You know exactly what this cloth is,” he said, walking up to her so he was only an arm’s length from her. “This cloth is specially made from back east and costs quite a fortune. I’ve never really seen anyone around here wear something like this. This was my thought, until I inquired at the general store. And do you know what Mr. Smith told me? He told me that you were the last client to specifically order cloth. Cloth that looks mysteriously like the one I am holding in my hand.”

 

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