by Becki Willis
“A patch? I don’t think I read about that.”
“Apparently, he was a rough-looking hombre, with a patch over one eye and a scar on his cheek.”
“I saw his wanted poster! It’s hanging in the saloon!” Her fingers danced again, so Walker held them tight within his own.
“Anyway, come to find out, the man was one of the ones who robbed the stage. For a while, they said it was a one-man job, but later, they found out that the infamous Sam Bass and his gang were also in on it. Legend has it they hid the gold and were all killed before they could come back for it. Everyone except the man with the patch. Lina saw a letter meant for her father, alerting him that he harbored a dangerous criminal. Before they could arrest them, Lina persuaded Orlan to help the man escape.”
Hannah frowned. “Where’s the part where he’s a hero? He helped an outlaw get away.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Lina insisted it was all a mistake, that the men on the stage only thought her man was trying to rob it. According to him, he was tired of Texas and was going back to Kansas. He just wanted to bum a ride on the stage. But that’s beside the point. The point is, Orlan helped the man escape, but he made him promise to leave Texas and never come back. In turn, Orlan vowed to watch over Lina and to protect her with his life, which is exactly what he did.”
“What happened?”
“Word of the hidden gold got out. What’s more, rumor was that the outlaw left a map of how to find it, here at the stage stop. More than one greedy soul tried to barge their way in and find the map. Tore up the inn looking for it, on more than one occasion, so they say.”
Hannah’s sigh was heavy with empathy. “I know the feeling. Just like what happened here tonight.”
“Two of the men to come here took their anger and greed out on Lina. They accused her of knowing where the treasure was and of helping the outlaw escape. They would have done her great harm, possibly killed her, if Orlan hadn’t arrived when he did. He killed the men, saved Lina, but suffered a mortal wound. After refusing him for years, Lina finally married him on his deathbed, just before he took his final breath.”
Hannah gave him a reproachful look. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible storyteller? You only know sad tales!”
“You asked me about the ghosts, Hannah. They aren’t ghosts, unless they die.”
“But their stories are both so tragic and sad!”
“Probably the reason they can’t cross over,” he reasoned. “Unfinished business here on earth, and all that.”
“I suppose Orlan stayed behind to watch over Lina?”
“It looks that way.”
“But she’s long dead by now, and apparently he’s still here.”
“Something about vowing to protect all that was hers and carrying out the curse.”
Hannah stiffened. “What curse?”
Walker waved a dismissive hand, the one not holding hers. “Something about the old Indian woman and a curse she put on the descendants of the outlaw’s family. The one-eyed man broke Lina’s heart, so she put a hex on him, or something to that order. I don’t really believe in hexing, to tell you the truth.”
“Yet you believe in ghosts.”
When he shrugged his broad shoulders, the movement echoed across the mattress where they lay. “It’s hard not to, when you see them every day.”
Hannah was silent, trying to absorb all that he told her. It was a lot to deal with.
“Is this the reason for the thirty-day stipulation?” she asked after a while.
“Yes. Miss Wilhelmina wanted to know that the person who took her place would be strong enough, and brave enough, to stay, knowing there were ghosts on the property. She didn’t want a non-believer taking over.”
“I guess the imprisonment clause was to make sure the ghosts appeared during that time?” she guessed.
She heard the frown, even though she couldn’t see it while staring at the ceiling. “It’s not an imprisonment, Hannah. But yes, that was the general idea. To be honest, I’m surprised they presented themselves to you so early. I thought for sure it would take them another week or so.”
“So now what?”
“So now you tell me about your plans for the inn.”
“You didn’t seem too interested in them earlier this evening.” His rejection still stung.
“Only because you didn’t know about the ghosts. I had no idea how you would react and if you would even want to stay, once you knew the truth.”
Hannah considered his words for a long moment.
She still knew nothing about running an inn.
Her life, and her friends, were in Houston. When he wasn’t traveling the globe, so was JoeJoe.
But that phase of her life was over. Her friends were busy with new lives of their own. JoeJoe would always be her uncle, no matter where she lived. No matter what crazy gift he gave her next.
It was time for a new career, a new challenge, and this one seemed interesting. It was definitely challenging. She wasn’t a country girl, and yet it had already gotten into her blood.
It wasn’t without downfalls.
For one thing, she could be in serious danger. Someone—probably the same person who killed Hank Ruby—had broken into the inn, searching for some unknown object. For another, there were ghosts here.
Yet for the first time in a very long time, Hannah felt a stir of excitement in her blood.
It could have something to do with the man lying beside her. There was no denying the attraction between them, even though she had to ignore it. Married or not, Walker Jacoby was off limits.
Most likely, it had to do with the feeling of accomplishment seeping into her soul. She felt an enormous sense of pride just this morning, over something as simple as milking a cow.
This was something she could do on her own. Without her family’s help. Okay, so JoeJoe played a huge part in acquiring the town, but only the purchase. The rest she had done on her own.
Did she want to stay, danger, ghosts, and all?
“I do,” she realized quietly. Her voice took on new strength. “In spite of it all, and as crazy as it seems, I want to stay.”
Chapter Eighteen
After making a few early morning calls, Walker cleared his schedule for the day. Hannah wouldn’t admit it, but she was secretly glad to have him there. Events from the previous evening left her more shaken than she cared to admit.
It was bad enough knowing she lived among ghosts. In her mind, however, it was much worse, living with the fear of prowlers. Even in the broad light of day, she felt vulnerable.
They tended the animals before tackling the ransacked inn. Walker worked the check-in area, while Hannah tried to bring order to her office. Despite an hour’s work, the rooms were still disasters. At the rate they were going, the Tanners would arrive home to a huge mess.
“I wonder what they were looking for,” she mused aloud, stooping to gather up a handful of scattered ledgers. Other than an added scuff here or there, or a crumpled page or two, none seemed any worse for the experience.
“Could be anything. Cash, credit card numbers, the address of previous guests… anything.”
“And why would someone want a previous guest’s address?” Hannah scoffed.
Walker’s voice floated through the open doorway. She could practically hear the shrug in his words. “There are all kinds of scams these days. Who knows what nefarious deed someone may be cooking up next?”
“Or,” Hannah suggested sweetly, straightening a picture on the wall that separated them, “it could be something less malicious. Maybe Everett Tinker fell in love with a guest last summer, and he’s trying to find the person’s address, so he can rekindle the romance.”
She heard his doubtful grunt. “In that case, it would be more likely so he could stalk her. This isn’t the work of a love-sick fool.”
“You have a point,” she conceded. “I can picture him the sick fool, but not a love-sick fool.”
“We have to kee
p an open mind, you know. Everett Tinker may have nothing to do with this. No matter how much we both dislike the man, he is innocent until proven guilty, you know.”
She gave an ungracious grunt. “Spoken like a true lawyer.”
“Is that an insult?” he challenged, popping his dark head around the doorway.
“Take it how you may. My money is on Tinker, or whatever his name is.” She propped her hands onto her hips and added saucily, “Don’t you know.”
Walker stepped into the room, holding a framed painting. One look told Hannah that it was very old.
“I’m glad these all survived. Lina Hannah painted these, you know, almost a century ago.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Actually, she was very talented. These were done when she was in her later years, but even the ones she did as a teenager were good. She loved color, as you can see in the painting.” He flashed a rueful smile. “And in half the furnishings.”
“Furnishings?”
“Haven’t you noticed how many of the older pieces are painted? My room has one blue chest, and one yellow one. The colors have faded over the years, but once upon a time, I imagine they were rather bright.”
“I noticed there was an old green chest in my room. It has some sort of decorative border around it.”
“Lina’s handiwork, no doubt.”
“That’s amazing,” Hannah said. “That would make it over a hundred years old.”
“One thing’s for certain. They don’t make furniture like they used to.” Walker carried the picture back to its place on the other side of the wall. After a few moments, he returned. “When the Tanners get in and settled, I have some errands I need to run. While I’m out, I thought I’d drive by the motels in Fredericksburg, and see if I spot Tinker’s truck in any of the parking lots.”
“Good idea. But at least Fred will be here then,” she added, batting her eyes and slipping into a Southern accent similar to Caroline’s. “You know, to protect us poor, helpless females.” She fanned herself with the sheaf of papers in her hand. “We shall have the protection of at least one brave gentleman to guard our honor and protect us from that evil Yankee.”
Not only did Walker look amused, he also looked a bit confused. Before Hannah could whiz him on his response, Leroy lumbered to his feet and barked with excitement. His wagging tail knocked over a stack of papers Hannah had recently righted.
“Leroy, look what you did!” she wailed in frustration. She squatted down to collect the papers. Again.
“Judging from his bark, I think Fred and Sadie have arrived,” Walker predicted. “Is that it, boy? Have your people come home?”
“They’re going to think I’m the worse housekeeper ever! Just look at this mess!”
Walker was nonplussed. “Just wait until they get a hold of these rooms. They’ll have them back in shape in no time.” He offered his hand in help. “Shall we go greet them?”
Deciding there was no way she could have the room in order by the time the couple walked inside, she admitted defeat and placed her hand in his. He kept hold of it as he helped her maneuver the cluttered pathway, and even as they found their way into the front room. He dropped her hand as he opened the door, but Hannah wanted to think the hand on her back was his way of showing his support when he introduced her to the other couple.
What should she call them, she wondered idly, as she pushed through the dual doors. Mr. and Mrs.? Or should she keep it informal, and call them Sadie and Fred? Technically, she was now their employer.
A gleaming red 1953 Cadillac LeMans, fully restored and in excellent condition, claimed residency outside the old stagecoach stop. Leroy’s paws rested on the closed roof of the convertible, as he attempted to stuff his furry head inside the partially opened window. From inside the passenger’s side, a person laughed at the dog’s exuberance.
The driver’s door opened, and a petite woman stepped out. Despite being seventy if she were a day, she wore a complete western get-up on her tiny frame: starched denim Wrangler jeans, a black shirt with white western-style piping and shiny pearl snaps, a thin ostrich-skin belt with an oversized heart-shaped buckle, and red-tooled cowboy boots. With fringe. Perched atop her carefully arranged gray curls, a matching red-felt cowboy hat rested.
Just for a moment, Hannah wondered if this were another ghost. Annie Oakley, perhaps?
“Leroy!” the little woman called with glee. “We’re home, boy!”
Getting a glimpse of his mistress, the beast abandoned the window and lunged over the top of the car toward her. Instead of scolding him for scratching the paint, Hannah watched as the woman, obviously Sadie, laughed with joy and greeted the huge dog in an equally big bear hug. Or is it a dog hug? A hug that consisted of fur, at any rate.
“Well, I see how I rate!” a voice boomed from the passenger side. The door opened, and another woman stepped from the vehicle, shaking her gray head in amusement. She was only slightly taller than the first woman, but thicker made. Her casual Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts were at complete odds with her companion’s sharp, neat appearance.
“Welcome home!” As Walker greeted the two women with hugs, his voice warmed with true affection. Hannah was so bemused with the scene before her—a flurry of elbows and cheeks turned every which way, and all managing over the dancing, prancing, happily squirming giant of a dog—that she failed to immediately notice they were missing a major player. Where, she finally thought to wonder, is Fred Tanner?
After a second round of hugs and plenty of laughter, Walker succeeded in turning the ladies’ attention to Hannah, who stood by, patiently waiting with a smile.
“Oh, my heavens, what a lovely young woman!” This, from the woman wearing the colorful shirt. She slapped both hands to her own face and beamed happily at Hannah. “I never dreamed our new owner would be so young! Sister, have you ever seen such gorgeous hair in all your life? Just look at that thick mane! And, oh, those blue eyes! Why, she’s just a living doll!”
“Just what we need around here,” the second woman agreed with a vigorous nod. “Fresh, young blood! With new ideas to stir a little life into these dusty old buildings. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes you are! Wilhelmina would be so proud.”
Walker made the introductions with a flourish. “Ladies, may I present to you the new owner of your fair town and, in fact, your employer, Hannah Duncan. Hannah, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Tanner sisters, Sadie and Fredrika. Or as we all know her, Fred.”
Holy boomtown! Fred Tanner is a woman!
How had she not known this? In all their conversations, gender had never come up, so she had simply assumed… Hannah’s mouth hung open for a full moment, before she gathered her senses enough to snap it shut.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” The woman in the cowgirl outfit pulled a stunned Hannah into a warm embrace.
Hannah was confused now—was this Sadie, or Fred?—but she returned the friendly gesture.
“Don’t hog the girl all to yourself, Fred!” the other woman chided. “Let me hug her, too.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of room for a group hug, Sadie Jean. Get on over here and see for yourself.”
Hannah found herself sandwiched between the two sisters and their warm, welcoming hug. Unaccustomed to such a greeting, Hannah found it oddly touching, if not a bit overwhelming. She waited what she hoped was an acceptable time before pulling away.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” she told them. “How was your trip?”
The innocent question launched a barrage of animated conversation, as both sisters spoke at once. Hannah tried to keep up, swiveling her head back and forth as she listened to first one woman, and then the other. When Sadie launched into a detailed description of the sumptuous buffets on board the ship and her sister started a review of the shows they had seen, Walker stepped up and tactfully herded Fred aside. Hannah flashed him a grateful smile. He had surely saved her from a definite case of whiplash.
A full ten minutes
later, the sisters finally ran out of steam. “Whew! That plumb tuckered me out, just telling about it,” Sadie decided. “Sister, let’s go inside and make sure things are all tidied up for our guest.” She turned to beam at Hannah. “We have the most delightful surprise for you.”
Before she could tell her what it was, her sister broke in, “You have your very first guest arriving!” Fred blurted out.
Both sisters beamed and nodded in tandem, clearly proud to be the bearers of such wonderful news.
Hannah’s reaction wasn’t what they expected. “Guest?” she cried in dismay. “What are you talking about?”
Sadie patted her arm. “You can thank us later, dear. It was the most wonderful coincidence. We stopped in town to pick up milk and bread—”
“—and to give Clara Schmidt the Mexican vanilla we picked up for her in Cancun—”
“That, too,” Sadie agreed, unconcerned with how her sister kept butting into her sentences. “And we just happened to bump into the nicest gentleman. He was looking for a place to stay, and, what with the festival this week, town is hopping like a June bug on a summer bonfire. He couldn’t find a decent hotel room—”
“—for just one night. Everyone insisted on a two to three night minimum. Can you imagine?” Fred shook her head with a tsk-tsk.
“So, naturally, Sister and I told him he could book a single night here. It won’t be any bother, now that we’re back.”
“We’ll put the room to order, before we even unpack our suitcases,” Fred promised. “And in the morning—”
“—I’ll make him a breakfast fit for a king!” Sadie clapped her hands together, as if the matter were settled.
“But you don’t understand. The inn isn’t ready for guests yet,” Hannah protested.
“It’s just one man, for one night,” Sadie said.