Until Tomorrow

by Rosanne Bittner

  Cole thought about the little girl’s dimpled smile and sweet personality, and how he’d feel if his Patty were threatened with being orphaned or deprived. “I promise, Sassy.” What would Addy think of his helping support a prostitute’s child?

  “I’m going to … make it easier … for you to stay and settle here … take care of my Lissy … marry that schoolteacher. I’m going to make you … a proper, respected businessman.”

  Cole frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You get the doctor … back in here … and a lawyer—somebody intelligent whose word is respected.”

  “Sassy—”

  “Witnesses. I need witnesses … honest men. Do it quickly … before I’m too weak to get this done.”

  Cole leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Whatever you say.” He left, summoning Doctor Jonesboro and Howard Dresden, who had happened by out of curiosity. Both men came into Sassy’s room, Dresden hesitantly, not too happy about half the town seeing him summoned into the notorious bedroom of Sassy Dillon. “What’s this all about?” he asked with irritation.

  “I don’t know myself,” Cole answered. “Sassy’s got something to say and she apparently wants witnesses. You willing?”

  Dresden shrugged his thin shoulders. “I suppose.” He adjusted his eyeglasses and looked around the room curiously, frowning at the gaudy wallpaper and clothes strewn everywhere. He walked around the other side of the bed with the doctor while Cole leaned over Sassy again, taking her hand. “I’ve got your witnesses, Sassy. What is it you want to say?”

  She studied his eyes, turned her gaze to Dresden Howard and Doctor Jonesboro. “You tell Jim Lechner … over at the Federal Bank … that Cole Parker has full control of my account there … that he’s now the owner of the Hard Luck saloon. I’m … giving it to him.”

  Both men’s eyebrows arched in surprise, but neither man was as surprised as Cole.

  “Sassy, I don’t deserve—”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve been … a good friend … and you’ve had a hard time since the war. It’s time for you … to settle.” She looked at Dresden Howard and the doctor. “You make sure … people know it’s just because … Cole worked for me and was a good friend. I have a … a sister back East who needs … financial support,” she lied. “Cole promised … to take care of her. I want you to know that’s why I’m doing this. I trust Mr. Parker here to run my business … and to keep his promise to support my sister. That’s the only reason for this. There is nothing more to our relationship … than friendship. He hasn’t been sleeping with me … or living here … nothing like that. You make sure people know that. He’s a man to be … respected. He might want to some day … marry a respectable lady in Central … so I want no rumors going around. I’m sure he’ll … run this place respectable-like … no prostitution or that kind of thing. Do you men understand?”

  Dresden nodded. “Yes, ma’am. The doc and I will tell Jim over at the bank.” He looked over at Cole and smiled wryly. “Congratulations, Mr. Parker. I’m sure Sassy does a lucrative business here, even without the prostitution. Once you get situated, maybe you ought to join our town council meetings. Looks like you’re here to stay.”

  Cole thought the man rude for already talking about council meetings when a woman lay dying in front of him. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

  Dresden looked at the doctor. “I’ll go talk to Jim Lechner. You’d better stay here.”

  Jonesboro agreed, and Dresden left the room. As soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs Cole could hear the man trying to answer a furious barrage of questions from the men waiting there. The doctor checked Sassy once more and again shook his head.

  “Leave us … alone … another minute,” Sassy told him. She waited for the doctor to leave, then looked back at Cole. “I wanted … to set them straight about us … so you’ll be more respected. This place brings in a lot of money. Mr. Lechner … can help you learn to keep the books and all. Everything is in my desk … in a room in back of the bar. You’ll do okay … gain some respect in town as one of its businessmen.”

  Cole felt overwhelmed with gratitude. “Sassy, I don’t deserve this. It isn’t right.”

  “Yes it is. You’re the only one who knows about my Lissy … the only one I trust to take care of her and keep … putting money in her name. The account is at the Denver National Bank … in Lissy’s name and Mrs. Donnovan’s. I know you’ll do the right thing … no matter how bad you’ve been in the past, Cole Parker. I know because I saw the look in your eyes … when you talked with Lissy. You already love her … because you know what it’s like … having a little girl to love. That means everything to me. I know you’ll keep it a secret … who Lissy’s mother was. But you can tell that schoolteacher. She’ll understand. You being a respected citizen of Central … that will make it easier for you to start seeing Mrs. Kane socially. You keep her away … from Grant Breckenridge.” She managed another grin. “I’ll bet after last night … he’s the farthest thing from her mind. I could tell when I went to talk to her once … that she’s crazy about you. I hope you don’t mind that I visited her. I wanted to warn her about Grant, make sure … she does the right thing.”

  Her hand gripped his tighter again, and she gritted her teeth before letting out a wrenching groan. Cole hung on, feeling sick at how white she was. Her face was bathed in perspiration, and there were deep purple circles under her eyes.

  “Sassy, I don’t know what to say … how to thank you.”

  She breathed in quick pants for a moment before replying. “You’ll thank me by taking care of Lissy … and by staying away from liquor … forgetting the past and making a new life with that teacher. The only other thing I want is a nice funeral … a good casket. I know I’m dying … and there’s no way around it. You make the undertaker build me a good tight one … and line it with red satin. Will you do that?”

  “Of course I will.” He blinked back tears. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, Sassy. I haven’t even known you that long, but you have a way of making a person feel like they’ve always known you. You’re a better person than anyone knows, and God will welcome you with open arms.”

  “You really think so?”

  He smiled through tears. “I do.”

  “It’s nice … to think so.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll ask Him to make sure my Lissy … is happy all her life. And I’ll put in a good word for you …”

  The last words were slurred and barely whispered. Cole felt her grip weaken, and he called for the doctor. Jonesboro came inside and examined her again, pulled open her eyelids to check her pupils. “She’s going even faster than I expected.”

  Cole quickly wiped at his eyes. “I’ll stay here with her until it’s over.”

  Grant watched from his offices as the funeral procession passed by. Sassy had died two days ago, and he could feel nothing but relief. He had always worried that the brassy bitch would some day blurt out to the whole town that Grant Breckenridge had visited her often. He sure wouldn’t want Addy to know that. Trouble was, Addy was still playing hard to get, in spite of his respected position and his money. He couldn’t figure the woman out. She had become a challenge that he intended to win. And the thought of her in his bed …

  The parade below was nothing short of spectacular. For the last two days Sassy had lain in a solidly-built pine casket lined with red satin, her head on a white pillow, so he was told. He had not gone to see. She had been on display in the main room of the Hard Luck were men had come through by the hundreds to view the body, some of them crying over her death. Grant shook his head at the thought of anyone actually having feelings for the likes of Sassy Dillon. Now her closed casket was being transported to the graveyard high above Central. It passed under his windows now, on a decorated wagon being pulled by four shiny black horses.

  Cole Parker rode beside the wagon, and Grant felt a little resentment at the news that Cole had inherited the Hard Luck. He had already come to te
ll Grant he would no longer be working for him because of his new responsibilities. He had seemed rather humble about his new-found wealth. It seemed to Grant that the man should be jumping up and down with joy, and he couldn’t help wondering why Sassy would have done such a thing. He figured the man must be well endowed in the right places. That was the only thing that would mean anything to a woman like Sassy.

  He shook his head at the sight of hundreds of men following behind the casket, heads hanging, most cleaned up and wearing suits and hats. They had a long walk ahead of them, winding around Central up to the graveyard. A reporter for the Register was among them, stopping occasionally to write something down. This would make the whole front page of the local paper, Grant was sure. How ironic that just a few weeks ago the newspaper itself had joined Central’s “proper” ladies in their quest to force Sassy to give up prostitution. Sassy Dillon had the most notorious reputation of anyone in Central and the surrounding gold towns. Now she was being eulogized as one of Central’s most colorful and perhaps misunderstood figures, a woman who would be sorely missed.

  “Not by me,” he muttered, turning away from the sight. His thoughts went back to Addy. The woman had been even more reserved the last couple of days, had turned down an invitation to dinner that night. He didn’t like being turned down. Ever since the other night when he asked her to marry him, she seemed less receptive than ever. What had he done wrong? He had so much to offer a woman.

  He sat down at his desk, unable to shake the feeling that there was another man in her life. He wanted to believe her story about her midnight visitor the night after the reception, but he couldn’t help having his doubts. Something still wasn’t quite right. He had apparently satisfied Ethel Brown’s questions, had even spoken with the entire school board. All agreed Addy was a respectable young woman who had done nothing wrong, and that the whole matter of her abduction should be dropped. But something still nagged at Grant, that odd nervousness about Addy, that little hint of lying in her eyes. Was he just imagining it? He simply could not figure out why a young, eligible woman like her would not want to pursue a relationship with a wealthy widowed man who could give her the life of a queen. The only reason he could think of was that some other man owned her heart, but who the hell could steal her away from a Grant Breckenridge?

  He hit his fist on his desk. Damn! He wanted her, had thought at first that maybe he could get her into his bed without even marrying her, but the bitch was untouchable. She had even acted like she didn’t want to kiss him. He got up and paced restlessly, went to the window again. The funeral procession was still passing. He shook his head and turned, and just then the door to his office opened. One of his couriers to Denver walked in, looking tired and needing a shave.

  “I have the wire from Illinois you’ve been waiting for,” he told Grant. “You told me to watch for it this past week at the main telegraph office so you could get the message quicker.”

  Grant walked up and took the envelope. The man who had brought it remained curious as to why Grant had sent him to Denver with a sealed message only the telegrapher there was to see, rather than the telegrapher in Central. He’d been given instructions that he should hand the sealed envelope to the telegrapher, who in turn was to simply send the message without revealing its contents to anyone present. The reply was to be given back in another sealed envelope. Grant’s man had been tempted to take a peek at the message, but since the envelope instructions had come from Grant Breckenridge, he decided he’d better abide by them and not risk losing his job. Besides, it probably just involved some kind of business deal.

  “Thanks, Joe,” Grant told him. “Go on up to the Jamesway and see how they’re coming with the next shipment to Denver. I’ve lost Cole Parker as a guard. You’ll have to ride in his place this time.”

  “What happened to Cole?”

  “You haven’t heard? Sassy Dillon gave him the Hard Luck saloon.”

  Joe looked surprised. He removed his hat. “I’ll be damned. I just heard about Sassy getting shot when I got here. Quite a funeral procession, isn’t it?”

  “Quite,” Grant replied absently, walking back to his desk. “If you want to join them, go ahead. Just get up to the mine as soon as it’s over.”

  “Sure, Mr. Breckenridge. I hope whatever is in that wire, it’s what you’ve been looking for.”

  Grant rubbed at his mustache. “I’m not really sure what I’m looking for.”

  Joe shrugged and left, and Grant stood staring at the envelope a moment before ripping it open. He’d been careful that no one in Central knew about this, not even Ethel Brown. He intended to marry Addy Kane, and there could be information here he wouldn’t want the rest of the town to know.

  Regarding inquiry of men who abducted Mrs. Addy Kane, he read. Gang of men led by Jack Slater, confederate outlaws, bank robbers, killers. He read on through descriptions of Slater and his men, then came to one that made his blood tingle. The man wounded who escaped to help Mrs. Kane was Nicholas Parker Coleman, from Kentucky—tall, dark, good looking. Scar across forehead at hairline, believed to be from war wound. Sharpshooter in war. Good with firearms. Was wanted in Illinois and Missouri for bank robbery and murder.

  Grant’s eyes widened in shock and anger. A scar across his forehead at the hairline! Tall, dark, handsome, good with guns! Nicholas Parker Coleman. Cole Parker fit the description perfectly! And seeing the name, the new name, if that’s what it was, made sense. And he had arrived in Central roughly the same time as Addy had!

  He rose, went back to the window. Cole was already high up on Eureka, out of sight. He read the letter again. Nick Coleman had apparently helped rescue Addy Kane but had supposedly been killed doing it. That was what Addy had told everyone. Had she lied for him because he’d helped her? What the hell had really happened? Had he followed her here? Maybe even traveled with her most of the way? Was Cole the man she had argued with the night of the reception?

  The more he thought about it, the more sense it all made. Addy always seemed so nervous and reserved when Cole was around. Was he somehow threatening her? Was she protecting him from the law? Why? Was she in love with him? He read the telegram a third time, and there was no doubt in his mind that Nick Coleman had not been killed after all. He was alive and well, and he was in the city of Central in Colorado, about to take his position as a new businessman in town, popular with everyone because of his skill with guns. Addy Kane damn well knew him, was protecting him, had lied to Sheriff Page about him and probably kept him from a hanging!

  “You have some explaining to do, Mrs. Addy Kane,” he growled. He folded the wire angrily and put it into his pocket.

  James Breckenridge disembarked from the stagecoach and took a look around Denver, surprised to find a western town that was so big and bustling. His father had written telling him how fast these gold towns could grow, but he was still impressed by what he saw. He asked the stagecoach driver when they would leave for Central. “Right away in the mornin’, son,” the man answered. “What you gonna do up there?”

  “I’m a lawyer,” James answered with a proud smile. “Going to set up practice there. My father already lives there. He’s Grant Breckenridge, a manager for Chadwick Mining Company, and he has a seventy-five percent share in one of their mines. He says Central is a big town. Is it really?”

  The driver threw down his bags. “Yup. They’re even talkin’ about makin’ Central the capitol of Colorado when we become a state. There’s kind of a feud goin’ on between Central and Denver because of that. We’ll see what happens. At any rate, there’s a lot of people up there from Black Hawk to Central, enough to keep somebody like you busy, I expect.”

  James felt excited. The mountains were beautiful, and he was going to go up there and join his father. He hadn’t seen the man in a long time, but back in Chicago, after his mother died they had been close. He had no doubt his father could be a ruthless businessman, but he’d been a good parent. Now he’d help him set up a
practice in Central, a town about which he’d heard a lot of exciting things on the way here. He picked up his bags and looked up the street, figuring he’d have to go and find a hotel for the night. He didn’t notice a man was watching him, but as he started up the street the man called out.

  “Hey, kid!”

  James turned.

  “You James Breckenridge?”

  The handsome young man smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  The man came closer, a stocky man wearing a suit that didn’t fit him well, as though he’d dressed to impress him but was not really accustomed to wearing suits. “I thought I heard you say you was Grant’s son,” the man told him. “I’m Clancy Ives. I’ve been watching and waiting for you.”

  James set down his bags. “You have? Why?”

  “Well, because your pa asked us to. I’m here with Ed Foley. You remember Ed, don’t you?”

  James’s smile faded. “Yes, but … well, wasn’t there some kind of trouble between him and my father?”

  Clancy waved him off. “Oh, that’s in the past, son. Ed came here as a favor to your pa, said he’d bring you up to Central himself. We’ve got a horse for you and everything, so you don’t have to wait for the stage. Besides, the trip up by stage is pretty dangerous. It’s a narrow, winding canyon road and there have been accidents. Your pa was a little worried about you taking the stage. You’re safer on a horse.”

  James grinned again. “Well, good! I’m glad my pa and Ed are getting along all right again. They were good friends from clear back in Chicago, although I never knew Ed that well myself. When do we leave?”

  Clancy stooped down and picked up one of his bags. “Heck, we can leave today, son. Ed’s at a boarding house not far from here. We’ve been taking turns watching for you, knew you were due to arrive any time. If we leave soon, we can make it to a little boarding house at the mouth of the canyon, stay there the night, then go on up the next day—get there a lot sooner than the stage would.”