‘I need to go back to the bank again,’ Sandy said cheerfully. ‘I have a hundred dollars to deposit in my account. Or maybe I’ll save ninety and spend ten. Didn’t you say there were some charming new hats in the drapers?’ she asked Erica.
‘Oh yes,’ Erica replied, smiling. She drained the last of her coffee. ‘The bank, the drapers, and the hardware store; I need some more shells for my shotgun.’
Jonah laughed. ‘And that sentence is why I love being around you ladies. You make life so interesting!’
Millard tickled Amethyst, making her squeal and wriggle.
‘Amethyst, ladies do not shriek like banshees,’ Mary admonished. ‘They speak quietly.’ She gave an accusing look to her husband.
‘I’m sorry,’ Millard apologized to both. He let go of his youngest daughter. ‘Go and sit with Ruby and practise that figuring you were doing.’ He watched fondly as she joined her sister. The early evening with his family about him, was his favourite time of the day. Ruby was reading a book about birds, while Mary was showing Opal how to do something complicated with white thread and a small shuttle, while Pearl watched.
Pearl looked up from her mother’s lesson. ‘Papa? What happened in town this afternoon? I heard some bad men had been caught.’
‘Yes, I believe that manhunter, Jonah Durrell, found a gang of outlaws who were living somewhere close to town,’ Millard replied. ‘They’re all in jail now, so there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘I’ve seen that manhunter,’ Opal interrupted, her eyes wide. ‘He’s a very, very handsome man. So dreamy looking.’ She gave a little sigh.
‘Never marry a man because of how he looks,’ Mary said. ‘A sound income is far more important in a husband. Raising a family well is an expensive business.’ She looked up at her own husband. ‘This Durrell seems to be successful at what he does. Is he looking for the men who robbed your stagecoach?’
‘I believe he is, my dear.’
Mary thought for a few moments, the tatting shuttle idle in her hands. ‘Handsome men like him are often very vain. I’m surprised he does something as rough as chasing criminals when there’s a risk he could get scarred in a fight. Still, I’m sure he knows the risks,’ she added, giving her husband a piercing look.
Millard nodded. ‘I’m sure he takes care of himself. Is dinner ready yet?’
Mary glanced at the clock. ‘In a few minutes, dear.’
Millard took himself to his favourite chair and sat down, watching as his wife continued with the tatting lesson.
Jonah’s enquiries in Silverton finally produced a rumour of a man bragging about how he’d got a ‘free taste of one of them fancy doves from Motherlode’.
‘It was up in Gladstone,’ Jonah told Jenny and three of her girls as they sat in the private parlour late that afternoon. ‘I’ll take a ride up there tomorrow.’
‘Can I go with you?’ asked Miss Megan.
Jonah turned in surprise to Megan, who was combing out her waist-length flaxen hair. She looked straight back at him with honest, blue eyes that held a hint of mischief.
‘I missed out on the fun when you rescued Sandy,’ she explained. ‘And I want to feel that I’m doing something useful towards catching the scum that attacked you, Louise.’
‘I sure do appreciate all you’re doing,’ Louise said. ‘But I’m minded to think I don’t care too hard any more about finding him. Sure, if you hog-tie him and give him to me, I’d stamp on his face and his balls, but you’re all taking so much trouble. I can forget it and move on.’
‘My job is to find bad people and see they get punished,’ Jonah said. ‘If your attacker goes behind bars, he won’t be able to hurt another woman, maybe one who doesn’t have your grit. That’s enough motivation for me.’
Louise nodded. ‘I see.’ She gave a short sigh. ‘I guess I’m all right with that. Prevent them from hurting other folk,’ she said, mulling the idea over.
Jonah turned to Megan. ‘Gladstone’s nothing more than a big mining camp. It’s just boarding houses, saloons and a store.’
‘And I bet there’s hardly a woman there,’ she replied. ‘A few in the saloons, I guess, but no parlour house women.’ Megan grinned. ‘It’s sure astonishing what the sight of some frills and lace can do to a lonely man. I bet I’ll find them quite willing to help poor, little old me.’ She lowered her head a little to look up at Jonah, suddenly appearing more submissive and helpless.
He smiled in surprise at how effective the gesture was. ‘I guess you might learn something,’ he admitted. ‘But don’t stray too far from me. If this son-of-a-bitch is around Gladstone, you don’t want to give him the chance to get hold of you too.’
Megan nodded, dropping the helpless pose. ‘I’ll be careful,’ she promised.
When she met Jonah at the livery barn the next morning, Megan was wearing a stylish but modest walking outfit, with her flaxen hair pinned up neatly beneath a straw boater. Jonah helped her into the hired buggy and they set off north towards Gladstone. It was a nice distance away, a pleasant drive that allowed for a comfortable amount of conversation. As Jonah had said, Gladstone was just a large mining camp, far less developed than Motherlode. He halted the buggy outside the general store, hitching the horse before giving Miss Megan a hand as she descended. Already, men in the busy street were stopping to look at her. Megan looked around in return, smiling sweetly.
‘This looks like being interesting,’ she commented quietly to Jonah.
He looked around cautiously, noting a small group of men who already seemed to be having a discussion about the young woman.
‘We’d best take things carefully,’ Jonah told her.
A gaudily-dressed saloon girl stuck her head out of a door, stared coldly at Megan, then tossed her head and retreated inside.
‘You should be all right in here,’ Jonah said, indicating the store.
Megan nodded. ‘It’s just nice to see someplace other than Motherlode now and again. I’ve only been to Silverton twice. There’s new places being settled all the time, the whole of the west’s opening up and changing, but once a working girl gets to a new town, she doesn’t see much of anything outside of her brothel.’
Turning, Jonah noticed one of the men nearby being pushed forward by the others. He waited quietly, balanced and alert as the miner approached Megan. She faced the man with a pleasant smile as he stopped in front of her and removed his dusty hat.
‘Excuse me, Miss,’ he said, twirling his hat in his broad hands. ‘You’re one of the church ladies, ain’t you?’
Megan blinked, then a smile blossomed on her face. ‘Why, yes, I am.’
The miner turned to his group of friends and beckoned to them. ‘We’re plumb glad to hear that,’ he said to Megan with simple sincerity. ‘There ain’t no church close enough for us to visit and I sure do miss hearing the good word spoken.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Megan said gently.
The rest of his group had joined them, and others were stopping to watch. Jonah listened with interest to the conversation as he continued to scan their surroundings.
‘It’s swell of you to come among us,’ one of the older men said to Megan.
‘It sure is a refreshment to see a decent young woman like you in a place like this,’ one of the others added. ‘Men got to have entertainment, but without the balance of good folk and proper habits, it’s sure easy to fall into the ways of sin and excess.’
‘I’m glad to hear you feel that way,’ Megan said with an admirably straight face. ‘Your attitude does you credit.’
A wiry man limped forward a pace and held out a small, soft-backed book. ‘Please, Miss. My ma gave me this Bible when I left home but I don’t read too good. I ain’t seen a church in months and it would sure be a delight iffen you were to read some passages from the Bible.’
Some of the gathering crowd spoke up in support of the idea, pleading for a Bible reading from the lady. Megan paused a moment, then took the book from him.
&nbs
p; ‘Women are forbidden to preach, but I’ll read the Bible for you if you wish.’ She looked at Jonah, then glanced along the street at the saloons before returning her gaze to the manhunter.
Jonah nodded. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine here with these gentlemen.’
Megan thought for a moment, then started turning the pages. ‘The gospel of Saint Luke,’ she announced, and began reading the passage of the anointing of Jesus by the repentant prostitute.
Jonah swallowed a laugh, and took advantage of the moment to leave and start visiting the saloons to look for the outlaws.
Some two hours later, they were on their way back to Motherlode. Once they were well out of Gladstone, Megan asked Jonah if he’d learned anything about the outlaws.
‘Well, you know it ain’t an easy job asking questions about folks. It takes experience to find the right people to talk to, but I’m very good at what I do, you know,’ he said gravely.
‘You flirted with a saloon girl, didn’t you?’ Megan said astutely.
Jonah grinned. ‘Works like a charm. I’m not just a pretty face, but having one can sure make things easier sometimes.’
‘Shame on you for taking advantage like that,’ she said, mock-serious.
‘Now who’s the pot calling the kettle black? Anyhow,’ he went on, ‘Mary-Lou told me about this group that comes in once a week or so. She remembered them particularly because one of them paid her a compliment, and another said she wasn’t anything special and couldn’t compare to the fancy whore from Motherlode he’d had a couple of weeks back. He said he didn’t care if they were in the middle of a job, he wasn’t passing up the chance to have one like that redhead, for free.’
‘That must have been Louise!’ Megan exclaimed.
Jonah nodded. ‘One of the others told him to shut up, pretty fast, and called him Brewster. Mary-Lou remembered because it was Brewster who insulted her.’
‘Serve him right if he gets caught because she remembers his name.’
‘There’s five of them. Mary-Lou said they weren’t miners: she thought they might be cowhands, but they haven’t bragged about the brand they ride for. They don’t mix much and they don’t spend too much. They have enough for meals, drinks and gambling, without counting the pennies, but they’re not throwing dollars around. I’ve got Brewster’s name now, and some description of the others. I’ll call on the marshal when we get back and talk to him. And what about you? Did you have an interesting time?’ He raised an eyebrow.
Megan assumed a demure expression and looked back at him. They stared at one another for a few moments, before Jonah was the first to crack and burst out laughing. Megan laughed too, giggling in the corner of the lazy-back seat.
‘Shame on you,’ Jonah said. ‘Pretending to be a respectable church lady.’
‘The men made that mistake,’ Megan protested. ‘They were hoping for a nice church lady and I didn’t like to disappoint them.’
‘That’s Jenny’s motto, isn’t it? My ladies will never disappoint you.’
This brought another attack of laughter. Megan recovered first; she fished in the pocket of her skirt and produced a small, heavy purse.
‘They did more than listen,’ she said. ‘They gave me this money towards the church they thought I was collecting for. I couldn’t refuse it by that stage.’
‘Well, you earned it. What will you do with it?’
‘Oh, I can’t keep it,’ Megan said immediately. ‘It was given in charity. I don’t think anyone’s aiming to raise a church in Motherlode yet, but I guess I could give it to the school fund instead.’
‘That would be an honourable thing to do,’ Jonah approved. He grinned. ‘I swear, I never thought you knew the Bible like that.’
‘There was nothing else to do on Sunday except read the Bible.’
They compared their childhood experiences of Sundays as the buggy followed the trail up a steep-sided gulch south of Gladstone. The gunshot took them completely by surprise.
CHAPTER NINE
One of the buggy horses reared, the other bolted forwards. Megan was thrown into the side of the swaying buggy, while Jonah braced himself with his feet against the dashboard and gathered up the loosened reins. He swore as three men galloped out from the trees, guns in hand. Fighting to control the panicked horses, Jonah couldn’t reach for his own guns. Megan clung to the side of the buggy with one hand and pulled at his coat with the other, trying to reach his holster. One of the approaching men went to the buggy horses while the other two approached either side. All three had revolvers aimed at the pair on the seat.
‘Leave it,’ Jonah hissed to Megan. ‘Too risky.’
She sat back, deliberately straightening her hat as the buggy horses were brought under control by the joint efforts of Jonah and the mounted man.
The other two came alongside the buggy, guns fixed on the travellers. The one nearest Jonah was a heavyset man with a broad, Slavic face.
‘You, down.’ The ambusher grabbed Jonah’s arm and hauled him from the seat.
Jonah managed to toss the reins in Megan’s direction as he fell from the buggy. He landed on his feet, but heavily and off-balance. The rider had slipped his feet from his stirrups: he gave Jonah a sound kick that sent him staggering, and dismounted fast. Jonah had just caught his balance when he was seized, spun and shoved again. Half-dizzied, he glimpsed the heavy man holstering his gun and producing a large knife. The bright blade stuck a sudden fear deep into Jonah’s body. He froze for a moment, eyes on the blade, before trying to dodge away. His attacker was already closing on him. A heavy blow to the stomach took Jonah’s breath, and the next thing he knew, he was pinned against the side of the buggy, with that large blade against his face.
Jonah held absolutely still, hardly even breathing. He was vaguely aware of the buggy in front of him, but it was the blade at the corner of his eye that held his attention. The knife wasn’t quite touching him, but the skin from his eye to his jaw tingled in anticipation of it.
‘You’ve been asking questions about the stage that was robbed,’ growled the heavyset man in a thick accent. ‘That ain’t none of yer business. This is just a warning, see? Forget about the stage. Move on from Motherlode for a while. Go chase someone who’s killed someone.’ There was the lightest of touches against his face from the blade. Jonah held himself rigid, fighting down the urge to shudder. After some long, long moments, the blade lifted slightly again.
‘You know what this knife could do to your face, don’t you?’ came the voice. ‘It wouldn’t take much for a sharp knife to open up right to the bone. A lovely, long scar you could have, right where all the women couldn’t miss it. Or maybe just trim your nose a little bit, take the tip off of it. If you didn’t learn your lesson the first time, next time you could lose an eye. You sure wouldn’t look so swell with one eye gone. Geddit?’
‘Yes,’ Jonah whispered.
‘Good.’ There was a rumbling chuckle with the word. ‘Drake! Come tie him up.’
The knife stayed close to Jonah’s face as another man came and tied his wrists behind his back. Jonah was still held against the buggy as the knife was finally moved away.
‘The girl can get you out of those ties afore long. They’re just so as you cain’t shoot at us as we leave. This is the friendly warning, remember? If I was feeling mean, I’d take them fancy guns off of you.’
‘I’m sure grateful,’ Jonah said sourly.
There was another rumbling chuckle. ‘Stay like that till we’re clear,’ he ordered.
Jonah stayed facing the buggy as the heavy man mounted and the trio rode away. He remained silent as Megan tugged at the knots in the rope. When his hands were free, he thanked her and helped her back up into the buggy before climbing up himself.
‘Sorry,’ he said, as he started the horses moving again. ‘I should have been paying more attention. It was plumb stupid of me.’
‘You didn’t ask them to come and threaten you,’ Megan replied. She looked thoughtfully at him. ‘
Are you all right?’
Jonah just nodded. ‘Let’s get back to town.’
Megan didn’t ask any more questions, but sat quietly as the horses trotted up the trail.
Jonah felt a little bad about not keeping up a conversation, but he really didn’t want to talk at that moment. He was still tensed up inside with a confusing mix of feelings. Anger was easy to identify; he’d always hated bullies and threatening thugs were merely bullies to him. There was something else, something . . . shameful. Was that it: shame? It wasn’t that he’d been ambushed, though it hurt his professional pride. As he thought back, the memory of the knife, so close to his face, brought on the shudders he’d repressed at the time. There was a sick feeling of fear in his stomach that surprised him.
Jonah took a deep breath and turned his attention outwards for a minute, taking in the open mountain scenery and the sunshine, warm on his face. He loved this clean, fresh country, and the endless views and as so often, it helped him to relax. As he looked at the clouds moving overhead, he pondered on his vanity. The threat of the knife against his face had scared him more than any other moment in his life. It wasn’t the first time someone had threatened his looks, but before, it had always been fist fights. He’d had a couple of black eyes, bruises and a split lip, but none of it had scared him as much as the threat of deliberate cutting with the knife.
To be scarred, no longer the handsome man that turned heads, that was a difficult idea for Jonah. He had always joked about his vanity, but he was surprised to find how deep it really ran. Jonah thought about the threat. He didn’t want to give in to whoever wanted him to quit this manhunt. He didn’t want to have his face cut up either but simple vanity, no matter how deep, was no reason to be a coward. And that’s what he’d be if he gave in.
Back in Motherlode, Jonah said farewell to Megan, returned the buggy to the livery stable, and headed to Marshal Tapton’s office. Although the September day was mild, the marshal had a small fire lit in his heater. He looked up from writing in his log book as Jonah entered.
Sins of Motherlode Page 7