Jake took a step forward, as if to push past her. Nellie took a half step back as she raised the gun and pulled back both stag horn hammers with an audible double click. "You will not get past me alive. That, sir, is not a threat but a promise."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Emily dashed up to Zach, hearing Nellie's words but unable to see over the heads of the crowd. She grabbed his arm to get his attention. "What's happening? Is it Jake?"
"Yes, and Mrs. Cashman's got a shotgun stuck darn near in his belly! Quick, run back and get the marshal. I'll try to detain Jake and keep anyone from getting hurt."
Emily whirled and pelted back down Allen Street to the marshal's office. Fortunately, he was still there.
"Hurry," she cried. "Jake McEuen's at Mrs. Cashman's. I think he's trying to take Mary Ann away. Nellie has her shotgun, but I'm not sure she can stand against him. Za-Mr. Tremaine said he'd try to hold McEuen until you get there."
Even before she stopped for breath, the marshal got to his feet, strapped his revolver around his waist and joined her. They ran back up the street, side by side. When they reached the boarding house, the marshal pushed his way through the crowd, Emily hard on his heels.
"Get out of here," he said, addressing the gawkers. "This is none of your affair and you're obstructing the work of the law. Git."
Once they scattered, like quail when a hawk flew over, Emily could see Zach and Jake. Jake stood against the wall, his hands over his head. He glared into the barrel of Zach's pistol, his normally dusky face gone pale. Nellie stood in her doorway, the cocked shotgun held at the ready. The gambler's black gaze darted back and forth from one weapon to the other. A trickle of sweat coursed down his cheek.
The marshal approached Nellie first. "I think you can put that cannon up now, ma'am. We'll have everything under control in a minute."
Nellie lowered the gun, ejected the two ready cartridges, and broke both barrels to their open position. She obviously knew the weapon with intimate familiarity.
The look she turned on the lawman held a hint of wry humor. "Nobody was in serious danger, Marshal. This tin horn gambler thought he was going to bluster his way past me and make off with that poor girl he's mistreated so, but there was never a chance of that happening."
The marshal studied her a moment, his head tipped to one side. Then he grinned. "Yes, ma'am, but even attempted kidnapping is a crime and one I'll not tolerate."
Jake stepped forward, lowering his hands but keeping them well away from his pearl handled pistols. "There's been a misunderstanding, Marshal," he whined. "I just wanted to see my woman. When they told me she couldn't come out, I wanted to go in. I wasn't fixin' to do harm to nobody, but all of a sudden I've got all these guns pointing at me."
Zach lowered his pistol but still held it at his side. "I don't think so," he said. "Mrs. Cashman is not one to overreact to a harmless situation. If she says you can't come in, she must have a good reason. Furthermore, I say you've got no business with my sister at all. She almost died from your abuse. I'm not about to let you have a second chance to ruin her life."
Marshal Cooper broke in. "I've heard enough. McEuen, get on about your business-which does not include anything or anyone here. I could prob'ly arrest you on several counts, but since none of them are sufficient to deny bail, I'll hold off for now. But don't push your luck."
Jake was taller, heavier and younger by a good many years, but he wasn't able to face down the marshal. Besides, Zach and Nellie, both still armed, were standing by. Muttering threats and curses, the gambler stalked off down the street.
Emily heaved a sigh of relief. No shooting. Now if Zach would put his gun away and Nellie would return hers to her sitting room, everything would be back to normal. Well, almost normal. Maybe Zach would forget the conversation they'd begun, turning his attention to Mary Ann's plight and the growing need to get her out of town as soon as possible. And maybe the moon was made of blue cheese...
Releasing a second long sigh, she glanced at the two men. Zach had turned to the marshal, an expression of shock and controlled outrage on his face. His body practically vibrated with tension.
"In all due respect, sir, why did you let him go?"
The marshal huffed out a snort of disgust, but he spoke patiently. "If we had the hangin' judge we used to have, son, I might have gone ahead and hauled his butt in, but since Judge Thistlewaite was appointed, there's no use arresting anyone unless you've got an ironclad case. Where McEuen's concerned, we don't. With the robbers, it was different-four witnesses identified five of the men, and each of those five implicated Perez. We haven't got anything definite on McEuen, just hearsay. We'll have to bide our time."
"Oh hell!" Zach paused to shoot a guilty glance at Nellie and Emily. "Sorry, ladies. That slipped."
"I couldn't agree more," Nellie retorted, her tone acerbic. "It's a sad situation when a miserable hoodlum like that can run free. I don't know what the world is coming to. In some ways, it was better back in the '70s when the Earps and Clantons were shooting each other and folks could take the law into their own hands."
Emily shivered. All this talk of shooting put her nerves on edge. She sidled toward the door, hoping Nellie would take the hint and step aside to let her in. She had heard more than enough. Now she wanted nothing more than to get back to her quiet routine of chores, losing herself in mindless labor while the world went whatever way it would.
Nellie smiled as she turned away from the door, allowing Emily to enter. Shifting the shotgun in her arms, she started off toward her rooms. "You look a bit peaked, Em. Too much talk of shooting and violence?"
Emily nodded. "After three days chasing around the country on horseback, I'm ready for some peace and quiet. But now we've got to worry what McEuen will try to do next."
Zach had followed Emily inside as the marshal headed back to his office. "I'll stay here," he offered, "and keep watch. McEuen's not going to get past me, and if he tries, he'll be sorry. Don't worry, Emily. I won't let any more harm come to you or to Mary Ann."
Emily gave him a wan-feeling smile. She hoped those were not famous last words. Before either of them could say anything else, Nellie called her. It was time to start fixing the midday meal. Saved by the dinner bell again. The wry thought held little comfort.
~*~
Since her arrival in Tombstone, Emily had been plagued with hunches, strong, insistent, even demanding hunches. She'd always had what she'd called female intuition, but this was different, more powerful, more focused and vivid. Here, when she felt like something awful was about to happen, it usually did. That kind of hunch nibbled at the edges of her awareness all afternoon.
She went about her chores in a near daze, wracking her brain over the possibilities. What could it be? Surely, Jake would be at the root of whatever occurred, but what might his warped and wicked mind conceive as appropriate revenge or punishment and for whom? He had a choice of people to be mad at now.
Zach-he'd be after Zach first, and then probably Nellie. At the thought of harm or even death coming to Zach, her blood congealed. Although a twinge of guilt over this disloyalty to Rich's memory coiled through her, she could not deny how very important the young newspaperman had become to her in a few, short, hectic days.
Certainly their shared night of passion had intensified her connection with him, but her feelings went far beyond mere lust. Really, she'd sensed a connection from the first, from the moment his words captured her imagination and started to drawn her into his world. A horrific notion suddenly hit her. Would losing Zach be the price of her ticket home? If it was, perhaps she'd rather stay.
True to his word, Emily knew Zach stayed in the parlor the whole afternoon, except for a few minutes when he went upstairs to see Mary Ann. Nellie had said the girl was not aware of Jake's attempt to force his way into the boarding house, and it was certainly best that no one tell her. Zach had readily agreed.
Now, as Emily cleared the dinner dishes from the tables, she listened with only ha
lf an ear to the men's' desultory conversation. Every sense focused on that vague, taunting hint of wrongness. She could think of nothing else. It was almost as if someone were calling her name, just out of earshot. She couldn't quite hear enough to identify that silent voice.
Pouring steaming hot water into the dishpan from the big enameled pot, which always sat on the back of the stove, Emily prepared to do the dishes. She unbuttoned the sleeves of her new shirtwaist, a gift received today from Nellie. Rolling them past her elbows, she grated soap into the water, and located a washcloth.
She stopped dead as an image of flames suddenly leaped into her mind. Fire! The vision was so real that she could feel the heat, smell the acrid smoke. Was Jake going to set a fire?
Wiping her hands, she dashed out to the parlor, hoping Zach would still be there. She caught him just short of stepping out the door. "Wait!"
He turned, an expression of concern crossing his face when he heard the panic in her voice. "What is it? What's wrong?"
For a moment she could not speak. She felt as if her heart were lodged just beneath her voice box, clogging her throat.
"I may be going crazy, but then, maybe not. All afternoon I've had this sense of dread, of something awful about to happen and just now I suddenly saw flames-like a vision or clairvoyance. I think Jake's going to set a fire."
Emily didn't know what she would have done if Zach had laughed at her or shown any doubt or disbelief, but he didn't. His gray gaze met hers, somber and full of concern.
"Where, here?" He started to reach out but then dropped his arms back to his sides.
"I don't know. I wish I could really see, but I can't. I just got this sudden image of heat and flames. It was so real, so vivid for an instant that it scared me! But if we keep watch, perhaps we can foil his plan."
Zach nodded his agreement. "We can try. Let me see if Mr. Cavendish has gone out. I think he went upstairs. If he can keep watch here, I'll run down to the Lucky Cuss and see if Curly Prentiss and maybe some others are there. Curly's a cowboy Jake shot in the shoulder over a card game a few weeks ago."
Emily agreed. "I've got to get the dishes done but let me know if I can do anything else. I will go tell Nellie. I think she went to her room to rest. She's had several difficult days."
Zach hesitated. Finally he reached out and patted her shoulder. "It'll be all right. This advance notice will help. Maybe it's a false alarm, but I'm going to take your vision at face value. My grandmother on Mama's side was Irish-she taught me to believe in hunches, in clairvoyance, in something very close to magic. I've been feeling antsy myself, to be honest."
When Zach clattered up the stairs, Emily went back to the kitchen. She peeked into Nellie's room, but seeing that the older woman appeared to be sleeping in her rocking chair, she decided not to disturb her for now. Angelina was not feeling well and had gone to her own room, a cubbyhole in the far southwest corner of the upper story. Thus, Emily had the kitchen to herself.
Before she started to wash the dishes, she made sure the screen door was latched and then, as an after thought, she shut the heavy wooden door as well and slammed the bolt home. That made the kitchen miserably hot but gave her a feeling of some security. At least no one could break in without making a racket, enough to alert the whole building.
By the time Emily finished the clean up chores, Zach had returned from the saloon with three cowboys and a couple of miners. He explained that they planned to take up stations around the boarding house and swore they'd keep watch all night. That anyone would dare to endanger Nellie, who was liked and respected by the whole camp, seemed to horrify them all, and to threaten harm to a sick woman who had just lost her child was deemed even more heinous.
Emily had no idea what Zach had told his friends, but they all seemed to take the potential threat seriously. None of them scoffed at the idea of Jake McEuen setting a fire to avenge himself on those who had made him look foolish and foiled his plans.
Zach took pains to introduce Emily to each of the men. When she offered to make sure the coffee pot stayed full and said they could have some whenever they wished, they all beamed their thanks before they trooped out to take up their posts.
Emily sighed with relief, still anxious but feeling they had done all they could to avert possible disaster. Wandering to the parlor, she sank into an overstuffed chair, suddenly almost too weary to move. Nellie was not the only one who had suffered a string of difficult days.
After a few moments, Zach joined her, sitting in a matching chair, a small table between them, which held a lamp, the wick turned down so it shed only a soft diffuse light. He stirred restlessly, as if driven to action but not sure what to do.
Finally he got up, came over to stand beside her, and then reached down to rub her slumped shoulders. She leaned into the gentle massage, feeling the tension slip out of her muscles, kneaded away by the firm, steady strokes of his hands.
"Ooohhh, that feels so good. I didn't realize how sore I was from all the riding until I started lifting things today. A stack of plates seemed to weigh a ton and the gravy boat felt like a five gallon tank."
After a few minutes, Zach's hands stilled. "You've been very brave," he said slowly. "I would rather you'd stayed in a safe place, but I have to admire your spirit. No woman I ever met would have done all that you have the past few days without taking to her bed with the vapors or something once it was over. Few would have tried even half of it!"
Emily opened her eyes, basking in the warmth emanating from Zach's palms, which were flat upon her shoulder blades, and his words of praise. Calm and comfort seemed to flow from that innocent touch.
"You've been pretty brave, too. For someone who wasn't raised in the Wild West, you seem to have taken to it like a duck to water. I have a hard time getting used to all the guns." Emily shivered at the memory. "But still, I know it took courage to confront Jake today, to snatch me away from Tug Gallagher, especially after he'd pounded on you, and to labor as you have to find a way to return Mary Ann to safety and to home. My fiancé was an officer in the Air Force-that's a unit of the military that flies airplanes to drop bombs or spy on the enemy-but I'm sure he was no more courageous than you."
"It's kind of you to say so." Zach paused, and Emily suspected a trace of jealousy from his tone. "I'm sure he was a true hero to have won your hand and your regard. For that alone, I envy him."
He drew his hands slowly, almost reluctantly, up and over her shoulders, touched her hair lightly, and hesitated before he circled to stand in front of her chair. Whatever he was going to say or do, the moment was lost, for a sudden flurry of shouts flooded in through the open door from the street. Emily thought she heard the word "fire" not once but several times.
Together, she and Zach dashed for the door, bursting out into the street.
"The marshal's office is on fire," a passerby shouted. "They're trying to get a bucket brigade going while the firemen hitch up their team. Come on, we need all the help we can get."
Zach turned to Emily. "Stay here, please. Keep watch over Nellie and Mary Ann. I'm sure Curly and the others will be drafted to help put the fire out, but this could be a diversion Jake has engineered to try to slip in and snatch Mary Ann. Here." He pulled his pistol from the holster and flipped it in his hand to offer it to her butt first.
A shudder of total revulsion wracked Emily as the wooden handle came in contact with her skin. She wanted to hurl the pistol as far as she could throw it, but she resisted that impulse. Instead she shook her head. "No! No, Zach. I can't use it, I don't know how. A gun will do me no good at all."
"Jake doesn't know that. Just the fact you're holding it would give him pause. I think he's really a coward at heart. Most bullies are. Go back inside and lock the door. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Zach folded her fingers firmly around the grip of the pistol, bent to give her a quick hard kiss, then sprinted off down the street.
Emily stood watching until he merged with the crowd. Her palm itched from
contact with the grip of the pistol. It took all of her will to keep her fingers curled to grasp it. However, she could not drop Zach's weapon here in the street for anyone to find.
She mastered her distaste enough to retain her hold as she obeyed his instructions. She went back inside and locked the door behind herself. Now there was nothing to do except wait and worry.
Though the door muffled part of the sound, the windows were still open. Through them she could hear horses pounding down the street, probably the fire horses pulling the hose reels and the heavy wooden water tank. A puff of breeze brought the bitter scent of smoke, a reminder of her earlier vision.
She sank back in the same chair she'd recently left, frustration gnawing at her. Nothing was worse than being unable to act when danger threatened and having to wait on the whim of one who wished you ill, unable to devise any defense in advance beyond maintaining alert and standing guard.
Emily put the pistol on the table beside the lamp and folded her hands in her lap to still their nervous movements. Her thoughts darted, seeking any reassurance. The back door was locked, as was the inner door to the courtyard. Mr. Cavendish had gone upstairs to his room but could hardly be asleep with the uproar outside. If Nellie had not yet awakened, she probably would soon, so Emily wasn't truly alone. She just felt that way.
~*~
When Zach reached the marshal's office, he saw the structure was fully engulfed in flames. Tongues of red and gold licked back alongside the building toward the part that held the jail. A sudden thought hit him. Had the bank robbers been moved yet to the main jail over behind the courthouse? If not, they were in serious danger. Anyone in the building was probably already inhaling far too much smoke.
Looking around, Zach saw Deputy Drake organizing the impromptu bucket brigade. He ran to the deputy's side.
"Is anyone in the jail?"
The deputy's face was a study in horror. He nodded, his mouth moving silently for a moment before words began to emerge. "We were going to move the bank robbers in the morning, this bein' Sunday. How come they ain't hollering? Come on, we'll try the back door. I think I've got the key. Nobody uses it very often. Them robbers are a sorry bunch, but I don't reckon they deserve to fry."
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