by Linda Broday
He sighed and sat down on the fainting couch, putting his head in his hands. “God, help me,” he whispered.
Two
Laramie City, Wyoming Territory, April, 1870
Thump!
Sheriff Jack Teller awoke with a start when cold air rushed over him from an open door and something heavy hit the floor of his office. His first reaction was to reach for his gun.
“Leave it!” a deep voice told him. “It’s just me.” The intruder slammed the door shut. “Jesus, Teller, somebody could have come in here and helped a prisoner escape and you would have slept right through it.”
Teller looked up at the tall man with long, sandy-colored hair that stuck out from under a wide-brimmed hat. His sheepskin jacket made his six-foot frame and broad shoulders appear even larger. And he was in bad need of a shave. It took a minute for Teller to realize who it was. “Logan?”
“I brought Sol Weber to you.”
Teller turned to look beyond the end of his desk to see a man lying on the floor, still wearing a wool jacket, his frozen eyes staring up at the ceiling. An ugly hole in his forehead made Teller shake his head as he looked at Logan Best. “Is it possible that someday you’ll bring one of these men back alive?”
Logan shrugged. “If the poster says dead or alive, I might as well keep things safe and kill him. Then I don’t have to worry about feeding him and staying awake half the night watching him so he doesn’t try to put a bullet in me and escape.” He glanced at the dead body of Sol Weber. “Besides, when he robbed that bank in Sheridan, he killed two kids as he was trying to get away. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Says a judge and jury, in most cases,” Sheriff Teller answered. He hoisted his too-heavy body out of his chair with a grunt. “Need I remind you yet again that your only job is to get wanted men back here? Let the right people decide if they should live or die.”
Logan took a thin cigar from his pocket, then struck a match and lit it. “Why bother, with a man like that?”
Teller snickered, his belly jiggling when he did so. “You have the strangest set of values I’ve ever known in a man.” He ran a hand through his thin, graying hair. “You kill a man at the drop of a hat with absolutely no regrets, but you worry about the right and wrong of what he did and get upset because a couple of kids died. Obviously, most men agree that’s a terrible thing, but most men don’t turn around and put a bullet in a man’s forehead with no feelings at all.”
Logan puffed on the cigar for a moment. “The weather helped. This sudden spring snowstorm froze his body pretty quick, so I didn’t have to worry about burying him because of the smell. Besides, burying the men I go after isn’t in a bounty hunter’s job description.”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as a job description for men like you,” Teller grumbled.
Logan sniffed and ran his coat sleeve across his nose. “When do I get my money?”
Teller rubbed at tired eyes. “I’ll wire the authorities in Cheyenne. It usually takes a few days, so stick around. In the meantime, get that damn dead body out of here. Frozen or not, it will stink damn quick.” He studied Logan’s sorry condition. “Or is that you I smell?”
Logan grinned. “Both, I reckon. I’m fixing to head over to Martha’s place and let one of her girls give me a bath. I’m in need of a woman, or more than one. Maybe I can get two or three of them to scrub me down, all at the same time.”
Teller walked around the desk and took his hat from a hook near the door. “I expect you won’t have a problem there. The ladies at Martha’s love you. I don’t doubt you’re well known at every whorehouse in Wyoming, and probably in Colorado and Kansas, too.”
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
Teller put on his hat and looked up at the much taller Logan Best. “I’ve always wondered where you come from, Logan. What led you to do what you do?”
Logan kept the cigar between his teeth. “Lotta things. I come from everywhere and nowhere, and there isn’t a person alive who gives a shit about me. Not since—” He hesitated, deciding not to finish the sentence.
Teller took down a wool jacket and pulled it on. “Since what?”
Logan frowned. “Never mind.”
“You ever think about marrying and settling?” Teller asked.
“None of your business.”
“Suit yourself, Logan, but some day you’ll get tired of this life and want to settle. I don’t doubt there are any number of women who would gladly oblige you.”
“I’m not losing any sleep over it. I’m still trying to get over the fact that this territory allows women to vote.”
Teller grinned. “Gotta agree with you on that one. In the meantime, I need you to drag that body out of here and have someone carry him to the undertaker. He’ll dress him out and put the bastard on display for the newspaper. I’m going to the telegraph office to see about collecting your money.”
The sheriff turned and opened the door for him. Logan kept the cigar between his teeth and reached down, taking hold of Sol Weber’s ankles and dragging the man’s stiff body out the door.
Teller left, and Logan closed the jail door, leaving Weber on the boardwalk. He nodded at two women walking past the jail. Both gasped at the sight of the dead body lying there with a hole in its forehead.
“Dear God!” one of them exclaimed. She looked up at Logan Best. “You again! You’re a merciless killer, Logan Best! You’re no better than the men you murder in the name of justice and only for money.”
Logan nodded to her, taking the cigar from his mouth. “Believe what you want, ma’am. That man killed two little kids in a shoot-out after robbing a bank in Sheridan. Could have been one of your own.”
The woman sniffed. “The man still deserved a trial.”
“Maybe so, but he would have been hanged. I just saved the Territory a lot of money by taking care of things myself.”
The woman shook her head in disgust and pulled her long, black wool coat tighter around her neck before stepping over Sol Weber and walking past Logan. Her friend stared at Logan a moment longer, then turned and followed.
Logan watched after them with a sigh, thinking about Teller’s remark that he should settle. He doubted that a woman existed who’d put up with the kind of man he’d become. He’d settled once, and it had destroyed everything good in him. Whores pleased a man in all the ways he needed pleasing, and he didn’t need to love a whore, so there was no danger of hurting anyone’s feelings.
He turned to leave, and three men approached him with scowls on their faces. “Another dead one, huh, Logan?” one of them commented.
“Yup.”
“Sheriff Teller told us to come and take him to the undertaker,” the second man said.
“Be my guest,” Logan answered. He shivered into his jacket and headed for Martha’s Female Boutique for a hot bath and the best whiskey in town.
Three
“I am having trouble agreeing to this.” Ian Tyler frowned at Elizabeth and William Baylor. “I have been the solicitor for your family for many years, long before your parents died.”
“The Writ of Title to the estate includes me,” Elizabeth told him. “That means I have a right to my share whenever I want it, whether you like it or not. I am over eighteen. Neither you nor Jonathan can keep me from what is mine, nor William from his.”
Tyler leaned back in his large, leather chair. A streak of sunlight highlighted the many wrinkles in his very white skin. Elizabeth thought him so pale that he could easily be mistaken for a ghost. His shoulder-length white hair was thin and spindly, his pink scalp the only color on him. Even his eyes, which showed only a bit of blue, were pale.
“Lady Elizabeth, it would be one thing if you were marrying, or if you wanted to start your own separate account but remain living with Lord Baylor,” the old man told her. “But to take this kind of m
oney to a place like America is outrageously dangerous and foolish.” He glanced at William. “And you, William, are nothing but a troublemaker, with no common sense whatsoever. Men belonging to a family like yours don’t hang around on the wrong side of the tracks with lower-class people who have no standing among the elite of London.”
“I refuse to look down on them. Some of them are good people who need help.”
“They would rob you of every last shilling you own if they could!” Tyler, obviously angry, straightened in his chair. He turned his attention to Elizabeth. “It goes against every grain of good judgment in me to allow this.”
Elizabeth caught the way the old solicitor looked her over. She’d often seen the same disturbingly hungry look in Lord Henry Mason’s eyes when he talked of marrying her. She kept her hands folded properly on her lap. She’d worn a handsome silver-and-burgundy-striped day dress, with ruffled pagoda sleeves trimmed in burgundy lace, and a crinoline skirt with six rows of ruffles at the hem that matched the ruffles of the sleeves. Her tall, crowned hat in burgundy velvet sported one white feather, the color, she thought, looking splendid against her light hair. Her white gloves were decorated at the wrist with tiny burgundy buttons. She wanted to look mature and womanly, older than her real age. She kept an authoritative look on her face as she raised her chin, determined to have her way.
“And I could take you to court over this if you refuse to give me what is mine,” she reminded the man. “That would make all the newspapers, and Jonathan hates publicity. I have the necessary paperwork to prove my inheritance, and I want it. Now! William and I have already booked tickets on a ship to New York City.”
“And then what?” Tyler asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Then we will take a train to a town called St. Louis, where we will take one of those wonderful paddle steamboats on the Missouri River to Kansas and then a train to Denver, where there are gold mines in the Rocky Mountains and any number of other possible investments. Do not forget, sir, that I am well schooled. Not all women care about nothing but embroidery and proper dress and marriage. Some of us have loftier ideas, and under Jonathan’s heel I will never be able to enjoy the kind of freedom I dream of. With the money we have coming, William and I can build our own home in Denver. We will have maids and cooks and all the other things we enjoy here. And they say that in western America everything is clean and beautiful, not like the smog and filth we have here in London.”
Tyler glanced at William. “Is this what you want? You are not nearly as ambitious as your sister, William.”
William glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. “Elizabeth has always been good to me.” He turned his gaze to Tyler. “I want whatever she wants. I will be her escort and protect her along the way. And I think that once I am out from under Jonathan’s control, I’ll be stronger for it.”
Tyler shook his head and leaned back in his chair, glancing at Elizabeth again. “And where did you hear all these stories about America?”
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and held her chin proudly. “I can read, you know. The newspapers are full of stories about America, and some of my friends’ fathers and husbands have already made investments there. I would not be surprised to learn you’ve looked into it yourself.”
Tyler nodded. “I have considered it, but I am a man of wealth and experience. You, on the other hand—” He stopped and sighed when Elizabeth glared at him for trying to embarrass her and insult her intelligence. “Tell me,” Tyler continued in a change of subject, “when you say you have read a lot about America, are you referring to those penny dreadfuls? Dreadful is the right word for those things. I hope you know those stories are a bunch of lies and exaggerations.”
“They are exciting and adventurous,” Elizabeth answered with a sure tone to her voice, “but I know better than to believe all of it. I must say, though, that it will be exciting to find out what is true and what isn’t. Either way, I have studied about America, in books far more dependable than the penny dreadfuls. America has succeeded in supporting a democracy that promotes independence and entrepreneurship. We have little of that in England. Our lives are too controlled by the Queen’s rule. And America just recently completed a railroad that goes all the way from New York City on the Atlantic coast to San Francisco on the Pacific coast. William and I just might take the whole trip. Who knows? San Francisco is another city that offers opportunities for investments, especially in shipping. They trade with China and—”
Tyler put up his hand to silence her. “Enough! Have you considered the fact that America just got over a civil war? There is great unrest there now. And if you go anywhere beyond the Mississippi River, you will find life is very hard and very dangerous. There is little law of any kind in western America, or so I am told. Raiders and killers and robbers abound. Men get hanged for stealing a horse. Someone as young and beautiful as you would be in terrible danger. The only women in the West are cooks, laundresses, and whores. Is that what you want to become?”
“Of course not! I assure you, sir, that I have been secretly studying America longer and more thoroughly than you know. I have wanted to get out from under Jonathan for a long time, and to be free to do what I want to do. This is my chance.”
“And what about Lord Henry Mason? Your brother promised you to him.”
“He had no right to do so! I will not be a bride to that lecherous old man. I’d rather die.”
“And die you might, if you go to America,” Tyler answered. “Americans are nothing like the elite of England. They are barbaric, uneducated, far too independent, rough, and unruly. They have no proper manners. A young lady like you would be repulsed by most of them. At least let me find out if there is a proper family in New York who might be able to take you in for a while until you know what you want to do, where you want to go. You can’t just land there with no plans for what you will do next.”
“That is what makes it more exciting,” Elizabeth answered. “We will stay at the finest hotel in New York City and find someone to help us get to Denver—a guide of some kind.”
Tyler turned his attention to William again. “I can see that your sister will be more in charge of this trip than you will be. Be that as it may, are you sure you can properly protect her in a new land?”
“I know how to use a gun and my fists,” William answered. He straightened, with a proud look in his eyes. “I would do anything to protect her, in every way possible. In fact, we have decided that while we travel we will pose as husband and wife. That will keep away men who might have wrong thoughts about Elizabeth. We have it all worked out and have even decided what to pack in our trunks.”
“And you just might need to use that gun and your fists more often than you realize,” Tyler said, looking William over scathingly. “If any culprit finds out how much money you two have on you and that you have expensive jewelry in your possession, there will be a target on your backs. I am telling you that America is a dangerous place.”
“We will be fine,” Elizabeth declared. “And speaking of money, just how much exactly will each of us receive?”
Tyler closed his eyes and sighed in resignation, reaching for a heavy ledger and pulling it over in front of him. “I already did the figuring once Jonathan told me what you two were up to.” He opened a drawer and took out something that looked like a receipt book. “I will give each of you a withdrawal slip from the Bank of England. Each of you will receive ten thousand pounds. In America, that comes to roughly twenty-four thousand dollars—each. That is a very large amount of money, especially in America, and it is enough to invest in a gold mine or whatever you choose to do with it. I hope you understand the enormous danger of traveling with that kind of money. I suggest once you get to New York you put most of it in a bank for safe keeping, along with any jewels you take along. Please tell me you will do at least that much.”
“We will speak with a banker or investor when we arrive in New Y
ork,” Elizabeth answered. “We will decide then how to handle the money.”
Tyler handed Elizabeth and William withdrawal slips. “Whatever bank you choose to deal with in New York will know how to convert your money to American dollars.” He rose. “I still think this is a dangerous and foolish idea, but you are of age and free to choose your own life, so all I can say is, God bless and protect you both.”
Elizabeth looked at William, seeing the same excitement in his eyes as she felt. “We’ll be fine. Thank you for your blessings and cooperation.” She put the withdrawal slips in her handbag and rose, reaching out and shaking Tyler’s hand. William did the same before walking out with Elizabeth and closing the door.
As soon as they were out in the hallway, Elizabeth turned and flung her arms around William. “We’re free, William! Jonathan can’t run your life anymore, and I can make my own decisions now!”
William hugged her gently, then grasped her arms. “Thank you, Liz. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure we could really do this.”
“Of course we can! We’re free and rich and we’re going to America!”
William sighed deeply. “Kind of scary, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not scared at all, and neither should you be.” She patted William’s chest. “Come on. I can’t wait to see the look on Jonathan’s face when he realizes we are really doing this. And we have packing to do and plans to make. Once we get to America, maybe we’ll see buffalo, maybe real cowboys and Indians. And I can’t wait to see the mountains, and Denver.” She took hold of William’s wrist and pulled him along with her, heading down the hallway and outside, where their driver waited for them. They climbed inside, and Elizabeth turned to her brother. “Our lives are going to change completely, William.”