The Heart of Mary: A Thorn Novel

by Brandy Golden

  "Clean shirt, breakfast, telegraph office, and Potluck," returned Thorn. "In that order. I've had this shirt on for three days."

  "Now you know why I stay downwind all the time."

  "Smart ass. You're still smelling yourself, so it wouldn't do you any good to stay downwind."

  "Hate to break it to you, old buddy, but Mary is as smart as her mother."

  Thorn glanced sideways at the sudden interruption in their amicable squabbling. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, she let me sidetrack her too easily. I got the distinct impression Mary was playing with us." His brown eyes twinkled at Thorn. "That girl is going to do as she pleases. And I'm not sure Doc can handle her temper."

  Thorn growled impatiently. "Another brat that didn't get spanked enough. I think you're right about Doc, though, he's going to have his hands full with that one."

  A couple of hours later, and Thorn was scowling at the telegram he held in his hand. "They didn't arrest him," he exclaimed.

  "What do you mean?" asked Boxcar with a frown. He took the telegram and read it. "Not enough evidence, no pearl pistols and no shield." He rubbed his forehead. "Plus, Nelson knows him. His name is Joseph Morgan, and he works for Father Vincent at the mission. Now isn't that a coincidence?"

  "That makes him even more suspicious," snapped Thorn. "I just have this feeling, it's him. But I can see why Nelson didn't want to arrest him."

  "If it's him, then he must have ditched the guns and shield between here and Potluck. There isn't any way he would have thrown those guns away, so he must have somewhere to store them if they weren't on him. You're right, old buddy, that man is psychopath smart. At least, we know Mary is safe."

  "Yes, Mary's safe for now because he's concentrating on us. But that still puts Clary, and even Tilly, back in the line of fire. I don't like it at all," growled Thorn uneasily. That ball of worry in his gut seemed to get bigger.

  Boxcar frowned. "Yes, I see what you mean. We need to get to Potluck as soon as possible."

  "I'm sending a message to Nelson and Holden to put an extra watch on Clary and Tilly until we get there. I wish we could leave right now but we have to finish here first."

  Disgruntled, Boxcar nodded. "I wish the girls weren't involved, I don't like it either. At least they aren't loose ends for this maniac," he grumbled his brown eyes worried.

  Thorn didn't bother to bring up the obvious, they were both worried enough without discussing how Morgan could use the girls against them. Better to concentrate on the present. "How're your old drawing skills, Boxcar? I have a project for you."

  Back at the hotel, Boxcar sat with pencil and paper, waiting for Eddie to describe the face of the man he saw while Thorn went to the church to speak with the pastor.

  Thorn surveyed the white building in front of him with a cross on the steeple. It was a small place but then most people here didn't go to church. Much of the population was Hispanic with some white settlers mixed in. If the railroad did go through, like it was supposed to in a few years, he expected the population would begin to increase drastically.

  "Yes, I know Joseph Morgan," said Pastor Richard Campbell. The two men were sitting on a bench inside the church. There were no fancy seats with polished backs, no beautiful hanging chandeliers like the churches back east, Thorn noticed. It was very simple inside. Two rows of benches lined up on each side of the room with a makeshift altar in the front. There wasn't even a piano. But Pastor Campbell was quite cheerful, his thin face and blue eyes smiling at Thorn.

  "Can you describe him for me?"

  "He's a big man, very tall," replied Pastor Campbell thoughtfully. "He has longer dark hair that he ties back with a tie of some sort behind his head and a mustache. He always wears black."

  "When is the last time you saw him?"

  "Funny you should ask, but it was about four days ago. He dropped off some fliers, regarding a new search for the Heart of Mary, and a few Bibles from a shipment back east that had arrived in El Paso. Books are scarce out here so it was nice to get a few more to share."

  "Anything unusual about him that would help me identify him?"

  "He does have a scar on his left temple. It's usually covered up with his hat, but it is there. It's about two inches long and shaped like a drawn out letter Z."

  "How did it happen?" queried Thorn.

  "That's not the kind of question you ask a man like Joseph Morgan," responded Pastor Campbell dryly. "He isn't one for small talk."

  "Well, thank you, you've been a big help." Thorn stood up and shook the pastor's hand before he headed out the door.

  "Anytime," he beamed. "Come back again."

  Back at the hotel, Boxcar finally had a drawing he thought would be acceptable. Eddie had a good eye for detail and had been a big help. He stared at the face of the man in front of him. His skills were rusty but those fancy art classes his father had paid for hadn't been in vain. He was too busy to paint these days, and it didn't pay well to do portraits. Besides, most of the women subjects he had painted wanted nudes. For him, it was just a pleasant hobby and a way to meet as many wonderful women as possible. He smiled at the thought of Tilly in a nude portrait on the wall. Now that is something he might do one day but, for now, he liked his job with Thorn. Detective work suited him, and he was good at it.

  "So what have you got?"

  Boxcar looked up as Thorn entered the room. "Here you go, old buddy. It cost me another three dollars, but Eddie did pretty good. That kid drives a hard bargain."

  Thorn studied the pencil drawing in front of him. So far, so good, it seemed to match Pastor Campbell's description, minus the scar. The boy wouldn't have seen that, but he knew who had. "Come on," he said to Boxcar. "We need to go see Fife."

  On the way through the lobby, they stopped at the desk and showed the picture to Doris. "You seen this man, Doris?" asked Thorn.

  Doris looked through her spectacles. "Oh yes, that's Mr. Morgan. He stays here a couple of times a year, sometimes more."

  "Has he been here lately?" Boxcar queried.

  "No, no, he hasn't stayed here since last year," she replied, looking at them over the top of her glasses. "Why? Is he in some sort of trouble?" Her gaze was eager and interested.

  Thorn shook his head. "No, we were just wondering if you knew him. You know anything about him?"

  She shook her head. "No, I just know he works for the mission in Tucson. Other than that, he's a very private man, not given to small talk."

  "All right, thank you, Doris," replied Thorn.

  As they came in the kitchen door of The Tarnished Rose, they heard the distinctive sound of glass breaking against the wall in Maria's quarters. "What the hell is going on in there?" snarled Thorn at the cook, who was staring at the door.

  "They've been fighting in there for the last half hour, Senor Thorn," replied Rosa, shaking her spoon at the door. "I'm grateful for the job, but I don't know if my nerves can take it, if this keeps up." Her rounded figure bristled, and her dark eyes were flashing. "That Mary, I think she needs a dose of this!" She swung the wooden spoon around and smacked the table with it in a resounding whack that made Boxcar wince. "I will try to hold on for Doc's sake, since he got me this job, but I don't like her mistreating him. He is too gentle a soul to discipline her, I sent for the sheriff."

  At that moment, Cole and Deputy March blasted through the door from the brothel, just as another piece of glass smashed against the wall.

  "What the hell?" Cole shot Thorn a puzzled stare. Then he strode to the door and yanked it open as a glass plate flew through the door. They all ducked and made their way into the room, Deputy March immediately crossing to Mary's side and taking the next plate away from her.

  Boxcar started towards Mary, but Thorn put an arm across his chest to hold him back.

  "What?" Boxcar shot him a look. "She's upset."

  "This is not our fight, Boxcar. We won't be here much longer, and they all have to live here. Let them settle it. Besides, judging from the looks the d
eputy has been giving Mary all along, I'd say he's sweet on her."

  "Let go of me," screamed Mary, her hair like flying flames as she shook her head and tried to wrestle out of the deputy's hands. She was really in a temper.

  Cole backed away, as if Mary was a rabid dog and joined Thorn and Boxcar. "The kid's got more energy than I do," he drawled. "I got my own woman to settle, now and then."

  Doc moved the rest of the plates off the low-lying coffee table in front of the settee and out of Mary's reach. Then he wiped his face. "Mary, you've got to settle down. I'm not going to let you go after Thorn and Boxcar, and that's that. If I have to put you under house arrest, I will."

  Boxcar nudged Thorn. "Told you it wasn't over."

  Deputy March's eyebrows drew together in a frown. "That's what this is all about? You want to leave town? I thought Thorn told you to stay here."

  "I don't care what he said," panted Mary, her green eyes flashing. "He can't tell me what to do." She shot Thorn an angry, desperate look. "I want to go. He can't stop me!"

  "Little girl, that's just plain crazy! You're not going to put yourself in danger, if I can help it. I don't know what all is going on, but if Thorn told you to stay here, then it's dangerous for you to go, and that's good enough for me." He pulled her along behind him and into her bedroom, with her kicking and pulling at him all the way. "And breaking dishes and throwing things is not acceptable."

  Doc stopped dabbing at the blood on his forehead and stared in consternation as Mary's screams suddenly changed from temper to pain. The sound of flesh slapping flesh was loud, even through the door, and that meant the deputy was spanking her bare bottom. He started towards the door, but Thorn stopped him.

  "You might not want to interfere, Doc," drawled Thorn. "I'd say that young man is interested in Mary, and if you're not willing to give her a good spanking, then maybe you better stand aside and let him do it. Either that or you'll never have a dish to eat off of."

  Doc stared at the three men leaning up against the walls with their arms folded and grins on their faces. He looked back at the door where Mary's wails were loud and clear. "You're right," he admitted finally. "She has escalated out of control. She needs a firm hand, and I'm too old to give it to her. Maria never would let Frank touch her in that way, and so she's used to having her own way." He suddenly grinned. "I think John March has been interested in Mary for a while. He just hasn't done anything about that interest, until now."

  "I think that's going to change," added Boxcar with a chuckle. "What say we let the deputy finish Mary's discipline in peace, while we go speak to Fife."

  "We'll be in the ladies' front parlor," Cole told Doc, following Thorn and Boxcar out. "You can send the deputy our way when he's finished. Make sure he gives her extra for that cut on your forehead now."

  Doc nodded and, with a sigh, settled on the settee to wait. Mary could clean up her own mess.

  * * *

  Mary couldn't believe the position she was in. The handsome deputy was paddling her behind with a hand as hard as Thorn's had been, and it hurt—a lot! No amount of pleading and sobbing was making a difference as he covered her entire behind and the top of her legs with hard punishing swats that left her burning and stinging like crazy. She had been embarrassed in the beginning when he had slid her pantaloons aside to reveal her backside, and she had clenched her legs together to keep him from seeing anything. Now her legs were scissoring all over the place, and she couldn't care less what he saw, as long as he stopped. Face down on the bed, she sobbed and wailed, holding onto the covers in clenched fists. Finally, he paused, his hand resting on her fiery curves.

  "Did you cause that bleeding I saw on Doc's face?"

  "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," she wailed, looking back at his stern handsome features. "It...it bounced off the door, and a piece flew into his forehead. I didn't mean it, honest."

  "For that, little girl, you're getting ten licks with my belt."

  "No," wailed Mary, kicking her legs desperately. "I'm sorry, really I am..."

  Her words were cut off as John's leather belt, folded double, slapped across her already sore cheeks. She screamed in agony as he continued, until she had received all ten he had promised. Then she slumped across his knees, all the fight totally gone out of her. He brought her up then and cradled her against his shoulder, letting her throbbing buttocks fall between his knees.

  "Don't you ever throw anything again, little girl, you hear me?" he asked gruffly, his hand rubbing her back as she hiccupped into his shoulder. "I'd like to court you, if you'll have me, but I won't let you hurt yourself or anyone else. And you need to apologize to Doc. If you don't, you'll be across my knee again."

  "Court me?" She fidgeted and then smiled shyly. "Si, I think I might like that, but I'll have to ask Doc. He is going to be my guardian."

  John looked relieved. "That's good then, I thought you might be leaving or something, and I was getting worried. I don't want you to leave when I'm just getting the courage to court you." He cleared his throat and stood, standing her on her feet. "It's not proper for us to stay in here too long, let's go talk to Doc. You have an apology to make."

  "Si," replied Mary, still feeling shy as she stood up and let her skirts fall down. She hissed when the material scraped across her sensitive buttocks. "Ow," she whined.

  John chuckled. "You deserved that." He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. "And I can't help myself with this." He bent down and kissed her thoroughly, causing Mary's toes to curl.

  When the knock sounded on the door, they drew apart, breathless. "Come on," growled John. "Doc's waiting."

  In the front parlor, Fife was at the bar serving Thorn, Boxcar and Cole a glass of orange juice. It was too early to drink, they said. She flirted shamelessly with Boxcar and ignored Thorn. Finally, Thorn spoke up. "I got something you might like to see, Fife," he said smoothly, taking the drawing out of his pocket. He spread it out on the bar and watched closely as she studied it. He hadn't missed the dilation of her eyes when she first looked at it. She knew the face.

  "Who's this?" she asked innocently. "Am I supposed to know him?"

  "We thought you might, Fife," added Boxcar encouragingly. "I drew this myself from someone's description. Pretty good, huh? Only thing missing is the scar on his temple."

  "That's because it's under the edge of his hat," remarked Fife offhandedly. Then her hand flew to her mouth as she realized her mistake. Her eyes flashed at Boxcar. "You tricked me," she accused.

  Thorn interrupted. "It doesn't matter, Fife, we already know who he is. We just wanted to verify that you had seen him."

  "So I've seen him, so what?" She folded her arms and glared at all three of them.

  "So if he comes back here, would you let me know?" inquired Cole.

  "Maybe, maybe not," she flashed, her chin dropping to her hand.

  They all knew she wouldn't as they watched her sashay around the bar and head upstairs. Which was just as well—she could end up dead. They didn't need her badly enough to endanger her life. They finished their orange juice as Deputy March came around the corner with a silly grin on his face.

  "Now there's the look of a man in love," commented Boxcar.

  "Come on, we got things to do and places to be," replied Thorn, jamming his hat back on his head. They left The Tarnished Rose and said goodbye to Cole and John. It was time to head for Potluck. Thorn's pulse quickened as he thought of Clary. It worried him sick to think of her and Joseph Morgan in the same town together. The man was evil.

  Morgan working at the mission also presented a problem. Anna's grave was at the mission. That meant when the exhumation took place, he would be there, if they couldn't put him in jail first.

  "Boxcar, I wish we could find solid evidence to put Morgan in jail for good. I don't like him being in the same town with Clary and Tilly, and I sure as hell don't want him there when the grave is opened. It would put everyone there in danger if the ruby is on the body."

  "I'm sure Nelson
and Charlie have things under control right now," replied Boxcar, his voice worried. "But you know what an animal does when it feels cornered."

  "It goes on the attack."

  "Exactly." Boxcar wondered if Tilly knew Morgan, like she knew Nelson. The thought worried him.

  "This drawing of yours at least places him here, and we have Eddie's witness of the boots, but it's not enough to hold him for long," he mused.

  "Why not just telegraph ahead and have Nelson arrest him now?" asked Boxcar. They swung up on their mounts.

  "Right now, he's feeling safe, and we'll leave it that way until we get to Potluck. Then we'll arrest him together. It'll be easier and safer with all of us, instead of Nelson trying to take it on with Holden busted up and a green deputy."

  "He could circle back and try to take Mary."

  "I don't think he will, at this point. Mostly, because he doesn't know we left Mary behind." Thorn brooded on the possibilities as they rode along at a fast clip. "We've been down this road many times before, where would he stash his guns?"

  "There is a Hashnife Pony Express stop about half way between here and Potluck. It's not much more than a waystation, though. Can't really imagine him stashing anything there. It's been robbed more than once and all the horses stolen."

  "How many people do you suppose have been this way since last night?" asked Thorn.

  "Well, the stage left this morning. That group of wagons wasn't planning to leave until this afternoon. So I don't know if anyone else besides Morgan came this way or not."

  Thorn nodded. "The team on the stagecoach has destroyed any chance of tracking a single horse. If it was me, though, I wouldn't want my guns too far away from me."

  Boxcar nodded. "Yeah, you remember where Bill and Henry found the man in the red vest? What if we missed something there? Obviously, that's where they met after his henchmen tore up Fanny's. What if he stashed something there and we just missed it?"

  "I forgot to tell you, the man in the red vest was Mace Jessup. And the other one was Jesse Springer. Cole found out that they were local guns for hire around El Paso. The barkeep remembered Morgan in the bar, but he never saw them talking to him. So they must have made their arrangements privately."