by Sharon Ihle
"That's right. It was when I was playing poker at The Bucket in Denver. I watched him round up the Thorp Gang that night. I'll know him when I see him. There's something about those green eyes a man don't quickly forget."
Billy nodded, and even though it was against his better judgment, he whistled and waved his brother toward them. As the kid scrambled up the hill, several of the squirrels scampered along behind him.
"Yeah, Billy?" Artemis said as he reached the crest, his usual bright grin in place.
"Got a job for you." Motioning for silence before his brother could begin an endless round of questions, Billy went on to explain. "I've decided to send you and Tubbs here into Durango on a—"
"Durango? By myself, just me and Tubbs?"
"Shut your stupid mouth and let me finish, or you won't be going nowheres but asshole over teakettle down the side of this here mountain."
Artemis's head injury was at times a blessing. In his exuberance, all he really heard was that he was being sent on a job, a real job, and to Durango, of all places. His grin never faded as his brother sputtered and fumed. He just nodded rapidly, and said, "I'm all ears, Billy. Go on."
"As I was trying to say, you and Tubbs are gonna ride into Durango and have a look-see around. We want to know what Marshal Slater has been up to.
You and Tubbs might even have to take him out. Think you can handle a big job like that?"
Something inside Artemis must have busted loose. He was sure of it. His head felt twice as big as normal, and the pressure of keeping a wild whoop of joy inside himself had his eyes bulging. But he had to keep that elation inside at all costs. If he didn't know another thing, he knew that much. Why, if Billy were to witness another of his frivolous fits of the giggles, he'd kick his butt down the mountain for sure, and take the job away to boot. To make certain that didn't happen, Artemis pinched his own upper arm, and twisted the tender flesh until the urge to celebrate subsided. "I can handle the job just fine, Billy. When are we supposed to leave?"
From behind him, Tubbs supplied the answer. "Now, if your brother's done talking to you."
Artemis pinched himself again as he said, "Then I guess I'd best get to packing my saddlebags."
"Not so fast." Billy stepped up beside him. "Since I ain't riding along with you, I only got this one chance to make sure you understand what I expect, so listen up."
"I'm a-listening." Boy, was he listening. His ears had to be sticking up as big as a jackrabbit's, maybe even a mule's.
"This here's a dangerous job, one that affects the lot of us. You got to keep that thick head of yours on business and that big mouth of yours shut, understand?"
A secret mission? Artemis couldn't dim his luminous grin a second longer. "I understand, Billy, I do."
"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, boy. You know what'll happen if you don't keep a serious face about you and your mind on business, don't you?"
Artemis saw the vicious look in his brother's eyes, the one he always dreaded because something awful usually went along with it. All the elation and excitement in his body turned to stone. "I know what you mean, Billy. I swear, this time, I do."
Tubbs nudged Artemis in the back with his elbow, but kept his cold gaze on Billy as he said, "I'll make sure he understands from here on out. See you in a few days. Let's go, kid."
After they'd walked several yards beyond the lookout point, Tubbs turned to Artemis and spoke low so only he could hear. "Say—you know that big sorrel I found a few weeks back?"
Artemis brightened a little at the mention of the horse. "Yeah."
"He seems to have taken a shine to you. How'd you like to ride him into Durango?"
"Me?" He whipped his head around, his eyes almost back to their full radiance. "You mean ride him like he was my own?"
"Just like you bought and paid for him."
Artemis grinned and scratched his head right near the cowlick. "Could I name him Big Red? That's what I been calling him when no one's around."
"Big Red sounds just fine, kid. Just fine."
* * *
Back at The Clipper, a "theater" gambling hall on Durango's saloon block, Cain propped his elbows against the pitted bar counter and continued to observe the assortment of female entertainers amongst the poker and faro tables. A perky blonde with bosom enough for two women caught his eye almost immediately, but then he noticed the single pink feather poking up through her frothy pile of platinum curls. The adornment reminded him of Indians. And that reminded him of Princess Tanacoa.
Shortly thereafter, every woman he glanced at seemed to feature some characteristic he could liken to one of Mariah's, which in turn made her an unsuitable choice as his companion for the evening. Hell, he could probably search all night and never find a woman in town he'd consider suitable.
Why had he even bothered to come here? he wondered as he drained his beer mug. He should have taken the twenty dollars and spent it on a new hat—one that didn't make him look like a preacher without a flock. It would sure as hell be wasted if he were to spend it on a woman.
Cain knew exactly who he wanted, and knew too that no substitute on earth would do. All the saloon girls in Durango rolled into one couldn't possibly satisfy the unholy craving that dogged him day and night. No one but his violet-eyed temptress of a cousin could do that, and she was completely off-limits. Maybe another beer would help ease the agony.
"Hey, barkeep," he said, holding up his empty mug. "Send down another, will you?"
As he waited for the only relief he supposed he'd get this night, Cain glanced around the saloon again.
It was late afternoon, and a weekday at that, but The Clipper was damn near filled. Most of the customers were huddled around the gaming tables, but only a few of them were engaged in games of chance. Many simply appeared to be sharing a sip and talking politics, the focus of which was Grover Cleveland's chances of reelection in the race against the Republican, Benjamin Harrison.
One of the town leaders voiced his concerns about the newly revamped Republican party. Couldn't it still be as corrupt as it had been during the '84 elections? How could an honest voting man know? And say, shouted another. That reminds me—have you heard the latest rumors? That pushy female lawyer, Belva Lockwood, is thinking of running for president as the nominee for the Natural Equal Rights party—again. Have you ever heard of anything so outrageous? Hoots and a round of guffaws followed this declaration, and Cain lost interest in the conversation just as his beer arrived.
He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the glass mug, and then froze. The bartender's gaze was still on him, measuring him. Cain furrowed his brow as he said, "Is there some kind of problem, mister?"
"Oh, ah... no, sir." The bartender wiped his hands on his apron. "You look a little familiar, is all. You from around here?"
Of course, Cain didn't know. In fact, it struck him then that this stranger might know more than he did about his past. Careful not to reveal too much, he said, "I've passed through here a time or two. You remember me, do you?"
The man shrugged. "Not really." He stared at him a little longer, and then shook off a sudden tremor. "Must be mistaken. Forget I mentioned it."
A boy of about twelve pushed in through the doors and approached the bar then, scuffing his heels across the wood floor as he walked. Without glancing at the customer holding a beer, he stretched to his full five feet and said to the bartender, "Is there a man calls himself Brother Law in here?"
"Hell, son, how am I supposed to know the name—"
"I'm Cain Law. What is it?"
The boy turned wide eyes on him. "Are you Brother Law?"
"I am. What do you want?"
The boy looked him up and down, frowning at Cain's jeans and dark blue shirt. Only the flat- brimmed hat with the dead-level crown suggested a man of the clergy. The young man cocked his head sideways, squinting as he said, "You don't look much like a preacher."
"I never said I was a preacher. Now what do you want?"
D
uly impressed by the man's authoritative tone, the boy said, "A lady sent me to come find you."
Assuming the lad was referring to Oda, Cain set his beer on the bar and gave the youngster his full attention. "Did she say why she wants me?"
Looking from side to side, the boy lowered his voice. "I think something bad happened to her, but she didn't say what. Her eyes was real big and worried-like, but even then, them were the prettiest eyes I ever did see."
Cain leaned down, took the lad by the shoulders, and dragged him forward until their noses were practically touching. "What did she say to you and where is she?"
The boy's eyes widened further, and then he stuttered, "Sh-she's just up the s-street. Sh-she said to tell you to come help her out. Said she was having some kind of a emergency."
Chapter 6
Hiding in an alley just around the corner from Main Avenue, Mariah stole another peek down Tenth Street. There was still no sign of Cain or the boy.
She kicked the edge of the boardwalk. "There goes my last two bucks." Sure she really had been robbed, Mariah slipped back between the buildings again. In the almost futile hope of finding Cain, she'd gone and paid a boy the outrageous sum of two whole dollars to go and look for her "cousin" by checking the twenty-some odd saloons in the "sporting" part of town. Although she had managed to catch sight of the boy popping in and out of a few of these establishments, it'd been a good long time since she'd last seen him. Had he taken her money and run? Mariah glanced around the corner again. This time she spotted both Cain and the kid as they burst through a pair of swinging doors not two blocks from where she stood.
Mariah quickly ducked back into the alley. In order to make her claims more believable, she pulled a few strands of long dark hair loose from her tight chignon, leaving them to dangle down from her temple, and then loosened the ribbons on her bonnet and knocked it slightly askew. She was debating whether to tear a couple of buttons off the bodice of her dress as the boy came running past the alley. He pointed at her, shouting something over his shoulder as he went by, and disappeared up the street. A few short moments later, Cain reached her.
"Mariah!" He stepped into the alley, his horrified gaze taking in her state of dishevelment. "My God—what happened?"
She parted her lips to deliver her prepared tale, when Cain took her into his arms, surprising the words right out of her mouth.
"Are you all right, honey?" he asked, pushing the oversized bonnet to the back of her head for a better look. He ran his fingers across her eyebrows and then down along her cheeks, checking for bruises. "What happened, princess? Did someone hurt you?"
There was something in the way he spoke, and even more so in the way he was looking at her, that disturbed Mariah enough to raise goose pimples on her arms. This was no time for nerves. She had him right where she wanted him, didn't she? Mariah shook off the sensations and went ahead with her plan.
"Oh, Cousin Cain," she said, her features carefully twisted with worry. "I'm afraid I've gone and lost the twenty dollars I was supposed to use to buy supplies." She held up her empty bag. "Zack will be so disappointed in me. Whatever will I do?"
More concerned about her physical safety than anything so fleeting as currency, Cain's gaze scanned her again. "Who did this to you?"
"Some youngsters, ruffians, you know the kind." Mariah sniffled against a linen handkerchief she'd brought along for just that purpose. "I guess I let them get the best of me, and well... how they did it really doesn't matter, does it? They made off with my money, and now there will be hell for me to pay. Oh, Cain." She squeezed out a tear. "What in all that's holy will I do?"
Dragging his thumb up Mariah's cheek, he brushed the little teardrop away. "You can stop worrying about that money, for starters." Without hesitation, Cain reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew what was left of his loan. After stuffing the bills inside her velvet handbag, he pulled her into his arms again. "There's a little better than nineteen dollars there—plenty to pay for the supplies. Now tell me exactly what those boys did to you."
Feeling a pinch of guilt, Mariah averted her eyes, looking instead at her velvet bag. She ought to have been happy, relieved at the least, to know that Cain hadn't yet bought himself a woman for the night. But another emotion seemed to be crowding those pleasurable sensations aside, one that felt a lot like remorse, or something close to it.
"Come on, princess," Cain whispered, trying to coax the details of her ordeal out of her. "I can't go after those ruffians and make them pay for what they've done if I don't know who they are and what-all they're guilty of."
Guilt. Now there was a word, perhaps the one which best described the way she was feeling at the moment. Good and guilty. Should she admit her hoax and beg for his mercy? What if he turned into the mean, hateful man he'd once been?
Mariah glanced up into his eyes. Hard as she tried, she could find no hint of Morgan Slater there. All she saw was Cain Law looking concerned, worried, maybe even a little bit anguished.
Lord, what had she been thinking of when she'd come up with this ruse? She'd prevented his buying a woman, that was for sure, but at what cost? When she had first sent for Cain, she'd expected his curiosity, certainly, perhaps even hoped he might be a little alarmed as well, but never had she imagined this response. His features were dark with outrage, those forest-green eyes reflecting something much deeper than concern. Had she not been passing herself off as his cousin, she might even have taken it for love. Was this reaction due in part to her #20 potion? He'd been taking it on a regular basis for over a month now, so that possibility certainly wasn't out of the question.
"Mariah, are you listening to me?" Cain gently shook her shoulders. "It can't be as bad as all that. Tell me what happened so I can help you."
Again there was deep concern in both his voice and his eyes. How could she have deceived this man, now or even in the beginning? Overwhelmed by a burgeoning sense of remorse, Mariah pushed out of his arms and turned away. "What's done is done," she said, eager to have the entire episode behind her. "I'd just as soon forget about it."
"Not on your life." Cain caught her shoulders and turned her to face him again. "I want to know if they hurt you, and I want to know now."
"They didn't hurt me at all." Again she jerked out of his embrace, this time making her way to the boardwalk. "Please—can we just go? This isn't a good part of town for me to be seen in. Zack will have enough trouble securing a permit for the show tomorrow without having its 'star' parading down the wrong side of the street."
Cain couldn't argue against her logic, so he joined her on the boardwalk. She tucked the loose strands of her hair up under her bonnet and retied the ribbon, and then he took her by the arm and led her back to Main Avenue.
They walked in silence, passing only a few townsfolk, until they'd crossed Ninth Street, which was beyond the saloon district and the Bank of Durango. Cain slowed their steps as they reached the post office, and suggested they turn the problem over to the authorities. "Let's head on over to City Hall and see the sheriff before we go back to the hotel. He'll round up those boys, and maybe even get your money back before it gets dark."
"I can't go see the sheriff about this. As a Kickapoo princess, I'm not even supposed to be walking the streets of Durango between shows, and I don't want to tell him who I really am. In either case, he's not going to be interested in my troubles, so let's just forget about the robbery, all right?"
"No, it's not all right." Cain remained adamant in his convictions, determined to bring her assailants to justice. "I still think we ought to just march right up to the sheriff and report your attack."
"Well, we're not going to. You know as well as I do that I can't afford to be recognized." Grumbling to herself, Mariah glanced past the drugstore and Gephart's General Outfitting Store to the four-story Strater Hotel and beyond. It was supper hour, and even though most of Durango's inhabitants were taking the late-afternoon meal with their families, she had no desire to risk crossing paths with even
one upstanding citizen who might recognize her as Princess Tanacoa tomorrow.
Then she remembered Zack and Oda. They were waiting for her in the hotel dining room. Her appetite had completely vanished, but she had to let them know that she wouldn't be dining with them after all.
Increasingly concerned about having their conversation overheard, Mariah tugged the sides of her bonnet as far forward as they would go, and lowered her head. "We can't talk here any longer. Let's go down to the train depot where we'll be out of sight of the main roads."
Although he didn't understand the need for such privacy, Cain said, "If it'll make you happy, then lead the way."
As they resumed their walk, Mariah said in a low voice, "When we get to the hotel, I'd appreciate it if you'd take a minute to go into the restaurant. Zack and Oda are waiting for me. Would you please let them know that I've decided to take some air with you instead of joining them?" Then she added a caution: "And whatever you do, don't tell them about the robbery."
* * *
The depot didn't afford quite the privacy Mariah had hoped it would, what with workmen—the very customers she'd hoped to avoid—still spilling out of the roundhouse and wandering through the train yard. So she and Cain walked beyond the town to the banks of the Animas River. There, halfway down the sloping river gorge, they settled themselves amongst the young willows which crowded the watercourse and surrounding hillsides. Directly across the Animas, above the white-capped rapids, the San Juan Smelter belched great puffs of smelly smoke into the Colorado skies, marring what otherwise would have been a magnificent view of the silvery San Juan Mountains.
Cain stared out at the raging waters, waiting for Mariah to explain herself, but after several moments of silence, he turned to her and said, "Why does everything have to be such a big secret with you, princess?"
"I told you. Folks like to believe I really am a Kickapoo Indian."
"I don't mean that." Cain reached over and pulled the tails of the black satin ribbons at her throat. Then he slipped the oversized bonnet from her head and tossed it atop the willows beside her. "I feel like you're always trying to hide yourself from me. Even back in town just now as you told me about the robbery, I sensed you were hiding something. What really happened, Mariah? You can tell me."