by Jodi Thomas
True shrugged. “When they ain’t trying to scrub me raw. I keep telling them it ain’t healthy to take your long johns off till spring. I ain’t bathing while it’s winter, and that’s a fact.”
“But you’d be warm and well fed there. Surely a bath would be worth that.” Austin squatted down to the child’s level.
“I’m fine on my own. Once my belly’s full I can make it for days between meals. As for warm, I don’t figure on taking advice from a man who doesn’t even wear a coat out on a winter night.”
Austin glanced down, just noticing he’d left his coat with Jennie.
Morris started to say something, but Austin cut him off. “So True’s your name,” he said to the boy.
True nodded once without volunteering any other information.
“Well, I’m not fond of children, but there’s an extra bed over in the back room of the jail. You’re welcome to sleep there tonight.”
With a fist almost black with dirt, True shoved hair from his deep blue eyes. “Well, I ain’t partial to marshals. Even if I didn’t have another place to sleep, I’m not sure I could bed down in the same room with one.”
Austin’s face didn’t alter. He understood the game True was playing. “If you’ve another place, what are you doing out here? It might snow by morning. There’s a stove in the jail’s office.”
True stared at him as though talking to a wooden Indian. “I wasn’t sleeping here for the night. I was just resting until those women get bathing off their minds. Then I’ll go back and be warm and snug until next Saturday night.”
“Plan on disappearing every Saturday night?”
If the child had been his height, Austin would have walked softer around True, for the anger in those blue eyes was unsettling. “I figure my plans is my own business, Marshal; but I’ll tell you one thing, I don’t plan on keeping you informed of my whereabouts.”
Austin finally couldn’t hide his smile. He was starting to like this dust rag of a kid. “You don’t like me very much do you, True?”
“I don’t know,” True answered honestly. “I didn’t like the way you yelled at Miss Jennie on the train, but you were real careful carrying Miss Delta off when she was hurt.”
Austin shoved his hat back. “Tell you what, True, until you decide if I’m a good guy or a bad one, why don’t you give me a chance? I could use some help over at the office every day that you can find the time.”
“Maybe,” True answered. “You pay?”
“Two bits a day.”
Austin could see the child adding up the money. “I might, Marshal. I may need some traveling money. From the way you two were talking when you woke me, this may be a town to be leaving from.”
“Well, until you do, I’ll depend on your help.” Austin extended his hand for the child to shake.
True hesitated. Tiny fingers rested in Austin’s palm for only a blink in time. “I’ll be there,” True said.
“One other question,” Austin added. “Is Jennie Munday your mother?”
True’s eyes hardened again as if seeing a trap. If the answer was yes, Austin would know Jennie had lied to him. If it was no, he’d know True had no home.
“Does it matter?” True asked. “Can I still have the job one way or the other?”
“One way or the other,” Austin answered.
Smiling suddenly, True darted around Austin. From the darkness, he heard True yell, “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter how I answer. I’ll take your two bits a day, Marshal, but you can keep your questions to yourself.”
“True!” Austin shouted, but only silence answered. Silence, then Spider Morris’s laughter.
Chapter 9
Haven’t seen your marshal this morning,” Audrey mumbled as she sampled her fresh-baked roll. “Fact is, I haven’t seen him but that first morning in the week we’ve been here. You figure he left for Texas while we weren’t watching the road, or maybe he’s made up of mostly shadow like our True?”
Jennie pinned her apron on without looking up. “First, he’s not my marshal, and second, when have either of us had time to watch the road even if we cared?”
Audrey’s laughter filled the quiet predawn kitchen. “Oh, he could be yours, honey. He could be. I saw the way he looked at you. Beneath all that anger burns a mighty big fire.”
“I don’t think so,” Jennie lied. She’d sent his jacket with True to the jail without even a note.
“Trust me.” Audrey dusted her hands free of flour and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ve seen that kind of fire before in a man. It may come out as anger or rage or heaven knows what, but it’s going to boil into passion when the flame gets hot enough.”
Jennie laughed. She’d never heard such nonsense, but it was fun to dream of such a possibility. She’d found herself looking for him every evening, but he hadn’t come to take her walking again.
“Not that I’m an expert on men,” Audrey admitted. “But, I’ve felt the warmth a few times. Trouble was I’ve never found a fellow I figure to be man enough to handle the wanton woman I’d become if I ever allowed myself to fall in love.”
Touching her lips, Jennie remembered Austin’s kiss as Audrey continued talking about the perfect man. Jennie guessed Austin would be man enough for her, but she feared she’d probably disappoint him greatly. She didn’t know if she’d be woman enough to make any man happy, much less one as strong-minded as Austin McCormick. He’d need one of those women she’d read about in her novels. Women full of strength and fight. Women who could survive all alone on the frontier.
“Yes sir,” Audrey continued, “give me a man who can set my heart afire. One who’ll stay put in one place and love me. I want a man who plans on being buried next to me on land our great-grandchildren will still own.”
“Mind if I wash up?” A man’s voice startled Audrey from her ramblings as cold air and sunlight filled the room.
Both women turned to face the back door. There, shadowing the doorway, stood a mountain of muscle and tanned flesh. The huge man took a step forward, almost brushing the frame on both sides. The kitchen light danced in his chestnut hair and warm hazel eyes. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, ladies.” He hesitated, then slowly removed his hand from where he’d been holding his wadded up shirt near his throat. A crimson stain marred the cloth and splattered across his tan skin.
Neither girl seemed capable of speech, so he continued, “Name’s Wiley Radclift. I was just delivering beef and cut my neck on one of the hooks. It’s not deep. Just need to wash off the blood. I promise I won’t bleed all over your kitchen.”
Jennie motioned the man in and handed him a clean towel. She stared at his boots, forcing herself to take deep breaths and forget the blood.
When he accepted the towel, she noticed his hands were huge. The kind of hands that could rock a baby in one palm, or crush a man’s jaw with one fist. But there was nothing frightening about the stranger. A gentleness lumbered in his hesitant steps and low voice rich with a Southern accent.
While he dabbed at the wound, Jennie pumped fresh water in a pan for him to wash. As he stood beside her, she was once more aware of his brawn. His height probably missed by a few inches being as tall as the marshal, but he must have been twice the weight, and not an ounce of it was fat.
“Thank you,” he said almost shyly. He wet the towel and began washing the cut near his throat.
As he worked, Jennie glanced at Audrey. The tall redhead was standing with dough in both hands and her mouth wider than a day-old bird at feeding time.
“Audrey!” Jennie scolded, wondering where the “I’ve lit a few fires” woman had gone. “Put down the dough and help. I’ll pour this poor man a cup of coffee. Maybe we could spare one of your wonderful apple rolls if he lives through your doctoring.”
The man turned to face Audrey. His shoulders looked oak solid. He made no attempt to cover himself, or boast under her careful examination, but merely waited until her gaze returned to his face. “Thank you, ma’am, but I nee
d to get back to the farm. It looks like a norther is fixin’ to blow in.”
Audrey finally found her voice. “You’ll do no such thing.” She dropped the dough and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ve had some nurse’s training, and unlike Jennie, the sight of a little blood doesn’t make the air seem thin to me. Allow me to doctor that while you, at least, have a cup of coffee. A few minutes won’t make any difference and it might keep the infection down.”
She smiled bigger than the Rockies as she passed Jennie. “I can at least tend to you till you get home to your wife.”
The stranger accepted the coffee Jennie offered without allowing his gaze to leave Audrey. “I haven’t got a wife.”
Jennie fought down a giggle as she watched Audrey straighten slightly, shoving out her chest and pulling in her stomach. “Well then, we’ll fix the wound properly, and before you leave, I’ll pack you up some of my rolls.”
“But I’m fine,” the man tried to argue.
“Of course you are.” Audrey wasn’t looking at his cut when she said the words.
When Audrey began dabbing salve on the stranger’s already bloodless cut, Jennie knew it was time for her to leave. She opened her mouth to excuse herself, but realized neither of them would miss her if she disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Slipping from the room, she decided Audrey just might have met a man big enough to sweep her off her feet.
The rest of the day passed in one endless job after another. Jennie teased Audrey about her giant every time she passed the kitchen, but other than that the day brooded dark and rainy. By nightfall the rain had formed into a full-grown storm and the road outside Clifton House looked like a chocolate-colored river. Everyone seemed to feel the downpour, as if the water had soaked into their skin and weighed them down. At sunset folks dragged themselves off to bed.
While Audrey went downstairs to line up all her ingredients for the morning baking, Jennie ate her dinner upstairs with Delta and True. They’d covered the windows with blankets, but the room still seemed cold and damp. Delta had dressed today, then slipped back into bed exhausted. True woke her in mid-afternoon to hand her a telegram that had been delivered, addressed to Delta Smith. Since then something had been bothering Delta, something worse than a fever. If Jennie were betting, she’d have put money down that it had to do with the deed Delta had told them to hide the first night they’d come.
Jennie decided to broach the subject as they finished their dessert. “Delta, are you feeling all right today? Is it the pain in your shoulder or something else bothering you?”
Steel-blue eyes stared up at Jennie. The fear was back in Delta’s eyes.
“If it’s about the deed, True and I hid it that first night in the train depot. Don’t worry, no one will find it.”
Delta closed her eyes as if in prayer. “I thought I’d told Audrey, but it doesn’t matter as long as he’ll never find the deed even when he finds me. And he will find me.”
“Who?” Jennie hated seeing the way Delta trembled with fear even more than she had with fever.
“I owe you an explanation.” Delta moved her untouched dessert aside.
“You owe me nothing.” Jennie knew she’d stand beside Delta without ever knowing more.
“The deed is to land that’s been in my family for generations. The man who married my mother a few years ago thinks it belongs to him, but it’s still mine. He’d kill me if he thought he’d get the land.”
“Is he the one who stabbed you?” Jennie asked.
“No.” Delta looked over to make sure True was fast asleep. “That was his son, Ward. He held a knife at my throat because I told him he was never touching me again. When I fought, the blade twisted and went into my shoulder. All the bleeding made him angry. He told me to go clean the blood off then come back so he could finish with me or he’d kill my mother. I went into my bedroom, wrapped the cut as best I could and dressed. I stuffed the deed into my bag and climbed out the window.”
“Did your mother get away?”
“No. I don’t know what happened to her. When I left, I could hear Ward yelling at her for raising such a fool of a daughter.” Delta didn’t try to stop a tear from rolling down her cheek. “My mother was the one who told him he could have me as long as he brought her more whiskey. She didn’t care what he did as long as I was up and walking in time to fix breakfast. She says that’s just the way it is when a girl reaches full growth in a house full of men.”
Jennie moved around the table and put her arm over Delta’s shoulder. The pain was so great inside Delta, she could almost feel it against her palm. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Jennie wished she could do something, anything, to help. Delta was speaking of an evil so ugly she didn’t even want to face it, but Jennie couldn’t and wouldn’t let Delta down. “Don’t worry, he’ll never find you.”
Delta cried softly. “Yes, Ward will, and he’ll kill me. He told me that first I’d learn to do what he wanted; then after the first year, I could start making some of his drinking friends happy. Ward said it would save him money and wouldn’t hurt me none.
“I’m so afraid I can’t even breathe sometimes when I think about what he has planned. Now, since he’s had to track me down, he’ll figure I’m not worth keeping alive. I thought I was lucky last week. A friend who worked at the depot helped me get a ticket and told me about the Harvey House openings.
“I wired her that I was safe. This morning she wired back that my stepbrother boarded the train heading west last night. He tried to get her to tell him where I’d gone. Luckily, she’s got several brothers to protect her from his threats. But he saw the Harvey House bulletin posted, and she said he ripped it off the wall when she tried to hide the announcement from him. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me. I shouldn’t have taken the deed. I should have let them have the land. Maybe he’d have been satisfied.”
“Don’t worry, you’re safe here.”
“No, he’ll stop at every Harvey House until he finds me, and then he’ll make me pay for the trouble I’ve caused him!” Delta cried. “Before Ward kills me, he’ll make me wish I was dead.”
“He won’t find you.” Jennie tried to make her voice sound sure. “Even if Ward does show up in town, we’ll think of some way to protect you. I promise.” She’d never used a gun, but she could learn. Her father only kept one old rifle, which he used to kill varmints trying to get the chickens. This Ward sounded like the worst varmint she’d ever heard about. Jennie had no doubt that if he ever showed his face at the Harvey House, she’d shoot him dead, providing she could load Delta’s pocket pistol.
Delta leaned back, too weak even to keep her eyes open. “He may be on the last train tonight. He’ll kill us all to get the deed.”
“Don’t worry about us.” Jennie laughed, wishing she believed her own words. “We can take care of ourselves. Besides, the last train won’t be coming in because of the storm, so you can rest easy until morning, then we’ll figure out a plan.”
Delta relaxed in sleep, curled up beside True while Jennie cleared the dishes. Jennie couldn’t help but smile at the small woman next to True. She looked more like another child than a woman fully grown. The wound in her heart would take far longer to heal than the knife wound, but each day she’d grow stronger now that the fever had cooled.
Jennie watched them sleeping as she thought of how needed she felt here. Despite the hard work, her days were filled with a sense of belonging.
Slipping Delta’s small gun into her pocket, she decided she could at least hit this Ward with it if he appeared. She’d talk to Audrey, and together they’d find a solution to Delta’s problem. They’d managed to hide True in this big hotel; surely they could hide Delta somewhere in the West where her stepbrother would never find her.
When Audrey entered and began preparing for bed, Jennie took the tray downstairs, allowing her a few moments of privacy. There would be plenty of time to talk in the morning.
As Jennie entered the kitchen, she bre
athed deeply of the wonderful smells. The aroma of dinner—roasted pork and fresh bread—blended with the lingering memory of a dozen apple pies that had been baked only hours before. Banked for the night, the fire’s low glow still rilled the room with golden light. All the pots and pans were scrubbed and hung and every dish put away and ready for the morning. The two late-shift cooks shared the last of the coffee before calling it a night.
Jennie washed her dishes while making small talk about the rain. As she turned to put away the tray, she heard the long sound of a train whistle above the thunder. “Is there another train in tonight?”
The cook shook his head. “No, miss. Not unless the six-thirty is running way behind. We figured it was canceled.” He stood and moved closer to the door, listening. After a pause, he continued. “By sundown the tracks were starting to flood on that last bend just before the station. The wires have been down for over an hour because of the storm, so who knows? Maybe another train is trying to make it …”
What sounded like a roll of thunder rattled every dish in the kitchen and shook the floor. Jennie glanced from one cook to the other, then dropped the tray she’d been drying and ran toward the front of the hotel. She could hear the hard sound of metal slamming against metal somewhere outside in the drizzle. A scream echoed in the night, sounding more like a hundred voices than an engine’s brakes.
People were everywhere. Jennie was swept along with others out the front door and onto the huge porch. It was raining so hard the lights of town were only soft splotches.
“What is it?” she yelled above the shouting.
For a moment no one knew, yet everyone seemed to know something terrible had just happened. Jennie could feel the hysteria in the damp, icy air around her. She stared into the soupy rain, trying to make sense out of the flickers of light near the depot. The lights were like fireflies leaving the depot and moving into the blackness beyond.
Finally, in what seemed slow motion, one of the lights approached the house. Everyone grew silent as they watched a lone man materialize out of the night. “Help!” he shouted. “The train’s derailed at the bend.” He pushed through the rain until he reached the bottom step. “They’re hurt! Dear God, there are so many hurt!”