by Jodi Thomas
“Rows?” Austin questioned.
“We may have only had one room, but we had eight rows. Every year a student moved over one, except of course my second brother, Ben, who must have liked the third row so much he stayed there for three years. He probably never would have advanced, only others kept complaining about having trouble seeing around him.”
Delta smiled, seeming to forget her pain. “I remember that,” she said shyly.
Austin didn’t miss the way Audrey turned and nodded toward the younger woman as though showing approval for such a small comment.
A porter brought in a bowl of water and an armful of towels. “Doc says to clean the wound and he’ll be here as soon as he can drink enough coffee to sober up.”
“Well, Hell’s bells!” Audrey said the words like an oath. “I swear, Delta, we’ve been dropped off at the end of the world. First the train robbery and now only one doctor and he’s a drunkard.”
“No, miss, Florence ain’t the end of the world, but I think you can see it from here. It’s just over the Oklahoma Territory and into Texas.” The porter giggled like a stuttering hiccupper. When he noticed the frown on Austin’s face he elected to change the subject. “Most folks about these parts think the doc does his best work drunk.”
Helping Delta remove her coat, Audrey said, “Well, I’ve had some training in medicine, and if he doesn’t do a fine job by my friend, he’ll be dancing to a six count.”
“A six count?” Austin didn’t understand, but he had to admire this woman’s spirit. He’d seen chiefs who didn’t protect their whole tribe as carefully as Audrey protected her friend.
Audrey studied him a moment before answering, “You sure you didn’t sit too long on the same row yourself, Marshal? How about counting the bullets in that Colt you’re so fond of patting and maybe you can figure out the dance.”
Laughter exploded from Austin before he could stop himself. It had been a long time since anyone, man or woman, had questioned his intelligence. First, Jennie on the train and now this redhead. He figured he’d better get out of this town as fast as possible, while he still had enough self-respect left not to drool.
Audrey didn’t pay any attention to his revelry as she unbuttoned the top few buttons of Delta’s blouse and pulled blood-soaked bandages away from the injury.
Austin swallowed his laughter the moment he saw the wound. It was over two inches long and in the shape of a V. Blood still oozed from the deep gash, but no redness festered around the wound promising infection. “But I thought …”
Glancing up at him, Audrey’s eyes narrowed. “You’d best leave,” she demanded. “I can clean the blood while we’re watching for the doc.”
Austin raised his finger and started to put her in her place. He might be a road-weary lawman and it might be dusk, but he’d be three days cold before he couldn’t tell the difference between a gunshot hole and a knife wound. Plus, if this little lady had been shot on the train, she couldn’t possibly have had time to dress the injury. Those bloodstained bandages had been wrapped by someone who knew what they were doing, not just stuffed over the wound until the train stopped.
Before he spoke, he turned to Delta, wondering what lie these two women were trying to pull on not only him, but the whole town. The petite blonde’s pale blue eyes stared at him with such fear, Austin forgot what he was going to say. He’d seen fear in eyes before. Fear of the law, fear of the truth, fear of death. But never this kind of bone-crushing terror. She looked at him as if he might do worse than send her to hell and back for lying about being shot during the robbery.
“The bleeding is slowing up some. I might be able to close the wound with a tight wrap.” Audrey broke the barrier of silence that seemed as thick as mortar between him and the women. “Wish there was something you could do to hurry that doc, Marshal.”
Austin moved toward the door. He had to break Delta’s stare. He doubted he could help with the doctor, but he had to wash his mind clear of what he’d seen in her eyes. Her look made him believe there was something uglier than death in this world and she’d already experienced it in full measure.
He stepped out into the cool night and took a deep breath. “Lord,” he whispered, “if that child wants to claim a knife wound is a bullet hole, I’ll not add to her pain by arguing.”
Moving into the shadows of the train station, he leaned against the cold brick and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to relax muscles that had been knotted since he’d heard the first shot fired during the robbery.
He stared at the lights flickering from town and had the feeling he was alone on earth. Stepping farther into the darkness, he tried remembering when the years of loneliness had first started. He’d ridden the same road long enough to know that he’d never share life with another, but he was still young enough to remember how it felt to dream. Sometimes, he longed to have another person to talk things out with, to sleep beside, to believe in forever with. But each year on the trail hardened him, driving him further from his dream.
His life had always balanced on a plane of right and wrong. But somewhere during the long fight, he’d turned and lost his footing. He was still fighting for the same thing, but some days he wondered if it mattered to anyone but himself which side won the battle. He was a warrior who fought alone against an army. A warrior without anything or anyone to return to when the battle was fought.
His solitude was both his protection and his private jail. He’d built it brick by brick. A defense against the pain from his job. In his line of work a man couldn’t afford to care. The isolation protected him against all feelings.
When had he stopped being a man and become only a marshal? Even on the train Jennie Munday had only been talking to a silver star and not a man.
A smile widened his lips slightly as he thought how he’d like her to see him as a man. She might not be the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, but she had a fire in those green eyes that would be worth a dance or two. “It’ll never happen, McCormick,” he said to himself. “Not in this lifetime.”
“What won’t happen?” Jennie’s voice startled him into a year’s aging.
He opened his eyes and saw his thoughts take shape. She stood three feet from him, her hands on her hips and the same fire in her eyes. Her frame was still as straight and unyielding as ever, her hair as black as midnight and her voice cold as stone. Austin couldn’t stop his fists from clenching. The hunger to touch her twisted like a dull pain in his gut. It wasn’t a need to cherish or dominate, but a longing to prove to himself that such a woman lived and breathed, a desire to know how a woman like her would feel pressed against his heart. A need to end his solitude, if only for the length of one dream.
Jennie seemed unaware of his struggle as she moved a step nearer. “Shouldn’t you be in the station helping that poor girl who was shot instead of lurking in the shadows talking to yourself?”
Her words were like a cold blast over his senses. Like water turning to ice, he hardened from the outside in. He wondered, if he shot her right now, whether he could convince everyone that he thought her a robber in the darkness? He knew he could never do such a thing, but the idea was more than appealing. He admired her strength as much as he hated her manner. “I was just waiting for the doctor.”
Jennie’s slender body swayed with impatience. “Well, Marshal, don’t you think you could do that more effectively waiting on the side of the building that faces town? I’ve never been good at direction, but it doesn’t take a genius to see the lights of Florence. I doubt the doctor is going to materialize out of these boxes of supplies.”
This woman was starting to get on his nerves. It wasn’t because of her orders as much as her bothersome habit of being right. Austin stopped trying to defend himself and stepped onto safer ground. “I’m not finished talking with you about that child.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“What happened to the little fellow?”
Jennie didn’t blink. “What ch
ild? I don’t remember seeing one on the train.”
“Now, don’t try that with me, lady. I—”
The sound of a horse galloping fast drew Austin’s attention. He took a step forward, still keeping in the shadows, until he knew who approached from town.
A man rode to a halt at the end of the loading dock and dismounted. As he neared the light, Austin could see he was much older than he appeared while in the saddle.
When Austin glanced back toward Jennie, she was gone. He knew she was still near. He could almost feel her watching him, but he didn’t have time to look for her. With his luck, she’d be showing up any minute to give him more orders.
“Marshal!” the old man yelled as he wiped his face with a wrinkled bandanna.
Austin swore under his breath as he turned back to the man. If he ever saw Jennie again, he planned on hanging onto her until he’d had his say.
“I’m over here.” Austin tried to think of his job and not her green eyes. “You the doc?”
“Nope.” The man spit into the blackness behind him. “Name’s Moses Mason. I’m the barkeep over at Salty’s place.”
Austin started toward the door of the depot, already dreading what else the man had to say.
Moses sidestepped behind him much like a child would follow a rattler’s trail. “I was the one elected to come tell you the doc ain’t in no shape to ride, much less do any business. He scalded his tongue on the coffee we was pouring down him and had to treat himself with whiskey. The cure worked; he ain’t in no more pain. Fact is he’s hardly breathing, near as we can tell, so you can forget about him doing any healing.”
Austin mumbled an oath. “Then we’ll have to do the best we can. Gunshot wounds can’t wait until he sobers up.” Or knife wounds, he thought to himself.
Moses continued to sidestep around the marshal even though the tall man was no longer moving. “I heard tell once that vinegar mixed with frog blood will take any poison out from a black-powder wound.”
As Austin reached for the handle, Audrey pulled the depot door open. She took one look at the two men and widened her stance, blocking the doorway. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, men, but from what I just heard it’s plain to me that you two would be about as much help as the tongue-fried drunk of a doc. I wouldn’t let you near Delta with cures like you just described.”
She stared at the men as if trying to figure out why God wasted his time making such creatures.
Jennie stepped from the shadows and joined Audrey. “I couldn’t agree more. If you’ll let me, I’d like to help you with Delta.” The shadow of a child slipped behind Jennie’s skirts and into the warm depot with only the slight lift of Austin’s eyebrow to indicate anyone noticed.
“I’m Jennie Munday,” Jennie nodded to Audrey. “Roll up your sleeves, we’re going to see what you and I can do about this gunshot wound. I’m not sure I can be of any help, but there’s no use asking these two for advice.”
The redhead smiled. “Nice to meet you, Jennie Munday, and thanks for offering, but I think I’ve done about all we can do. I gave up waiting several minutes ago. She’s still bleeding, but as long as we keep any fever down, she shouldn’t have any problem. The poor girl could use some food. I’m guessing she hasn’t eaten in more than three days.”
“I’ve had a room at the Clifton House readied, and the house mother is sending up dinner for the three of us.”
“Three?” Audrey glanced at True hiding behind the door.
“Three,” Jennie answered slowly, protecting the child with a gentle hand on the tiny shoulder. “I plan to help you sit up with Delta tonight.”
Audrey took the second lie she’d heard today as easily as she’d received the first. If Delta wanted to be wounded by a gunshot instead of stabbed and Jennie counted a little short, then so be it. Details never bothered Audrey overly.
While Audrey gave instructions to the men about loading Delta and her luggage, Jennie walked to Delta’s side. The blonde had lost a great deal of blood from a body that looked little better than half-starved.
“Audrey?” she whispered without opening her eyes.
Jennie took the girl’s hand, trying to reassure her. She saw no point in introducing herself. There would be time enough for that later.
“Audrey,” Delta whispered again, her voice weak with pain. “There’s a deed in my bag. Take it out and hide it. We’ll both be dead if my family finds it!”
“But …”
Delta’s voice was a soft cry. “Hide the deed or we’ll all die.”
Jennie stared at the woman, not believing what she’d heard. A thousand questions came to mind, but Delta’s words seemed to have drained the last ounce of energy from her. She almost melted into the blankets, as pale as the cold winter moon outside.
Silently Jennie’s gaze moved to True’s dark blue-eyed stare. No disbelief flickered in the child’s eyes. He had seen the underbelly of the world and knew Delta’s words could be true. Without hesitation he slipped a tiny hand into Delta’s small bag and pulled out a folded paper.
“Is this the deed?” True held the paper up to Jennie.
Jennie nodded, staring as though the very paper were somehow evil and could do her harm.
“I’ll hide it, miss,” True whispered. “I’ll hide it so it will never hurt you or Delta.”
Chapter 6
When Jennie awoke, snow had dusted the world white. Thin eyelet lace curtains did little to keep out morning light through the tall six-foot windows on either side of her small bed. She looked around and smiled slowly, thankful yesterday hadn’t been a dream. She wasn’t back home, but in the new Harvey House. She was out west, living her adventure.
The room was painted white, with dark walnut wood framing the windows and door. Three beds lined the wall opposite the entrance. A washstand and wardrobe flanked the door, leaving only enough room for a tiny dressing table to be crammed into one corner.
Jennie crawled from her bed, enjoying the warmth of the wood floor thanks to their location over the kitchen. Moving as silently as she could, she crossed the room and opened the wardrobe. There, cuddled inside the closet, True still lay fast asleep. The little boy had eaten until they’d thought he’d explode and now seemed to be hibernating. He looked warm, banked by the dark rosewood cabinet and the bed of feather pillows Audrey had somehow found down the hall. His hands and face had been scrubbed, revealing the face of an angel beneath all the mud. They’d have to work on the rest of him when there was time. Cleaning True wouldn’t be an easy project. His hair was matted in rootlike hunks, and his clothes looked as if he’d lived several seasons in them without taking them off.
Jennie carefully closed the wardrobe door all but an inch as they’d agreed upon the night before. She knew she and Audrey couldn’t hide the child forever, but maybe for a few days.
“Morning.” Delta yawned and rose to one elbow. Her voice was stronger, but her eyes were still filled with pain. “Did you sleep well?”
Hurrying to her bedside, Jennie answered, “Wonderfully. Better than I’ve slept in my whole life. But how are you this morning?”
“I’m much better,” Delta admitted. A hint of color touched her porcelain cheeks as she smiled. “The noise from the hotel was almost like a clock ticking to put me to sleep. I feel safe here.”
Jennie had never felt threatened when she slept. Unhappy sometimes, or lonely, but never unsafe. “I felt like there was something worth waking up for today,” she whispered more to herself than Delta. How many mornings had she lain awake just before dawn, already knowing everything that would happen to her in the day about to be born?
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Delta looked directly at Jennie, and both women knew that what made this place right had little to do with the warm room and clean sheets.
“Are you in much pain?” Jennie touched Delta’s forehead, testing for fever. With one touch, she knew the color in her cheeks was due to fever. She was healing, just as Audrey had predicted
she would as soon as they got a good meal into her, but she still had a way to travel before she’d be well. No new blood stained the bandage Audrey had put on just before they’d retired. That was one good sign at least.
“I’m weak, but alive.” Delta looked around as if really looking at the room for the first time. “Where’s Audrey?”
As though she’d heard her name from the hallway, Audrey bumped her way into the room. She carried a huge tray of hot coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls. “I was wondering when you two sleepyheads would be awake.” She sat the tray down on her bed. “I’ve been downstairs for two hours helping the pastry cook get ready for the first train. She leaves next week to marry some farmer. After seeing the way she beats the life out of yeast dough, I’d say there’s one farmer in for a disappointment or two.”
Audrey popped a piece of roll into her mouth and mumbled to Jennie, “You’d better get dressed. There’s a marshal been drinking coffee in the dining room for an hour waiting for you. He didn’t look in any too good a mood. Didn’t even smile when he tasted one of my rolls, and if that don’t sweeten a man, nothing will.”
Jennie didn’t seem in any hurry as she poured herself a cup of coffee and moved to the dressing table. “I know what he wants and there’s nothing to say. He thinks I’m True’s mother.” While she spoke, Audrey poured True half a cup to allow time for the hot liquid to cool for the child.
Raising an eyebrow, Audrey asked, “Are you?”
Jennie shook her head. “No, I found him under my seat like I said last night, but the marshal doesn’t believe me.”
“Well, True can’t be more than five or six years old, so we’re not turning him over to the marshal to go live in one of those child work farms. They’d half starve him.” Audrey added half a measure of milk to True’s cup as she noticed the child crawl from the wardrobe.
Winking at Jennie, Audrey acted as though she paid no notice of tiny hands reaching for a roll. Jennie sipped her cup silently and Audrey poured Delta a share.
Delta took the cup Audrey offered. “Audrey’s right. If we turned True over to the authorities, there’s no telling what would happen. These are hard times, and no one’s going to be willing to take on another mouth to feed.”