Erva cracked a small grin. “I’m honored to be here to help with that.”
Tears spilled down at an unprecedented rate when Meredith said, “I’m so, so honored you are here with me, that you have given me this chance, that you are becoming my friend.”
Erva shook her head. “I don’t think you understand that out of this deal I’m getting the better bargain, because the little I spoke with Laura, the little I know of you is that you are a fierce friend who will slap strange men to put them in their place and willing to give me everything you have to make me happy. You’re a really good friend, Meredith.”
More tears cascaded down Meredith’s face. She wanted to shake off the compliment, she wanted to deny it. But that would be rude to contradict her one friend. So she did the unthinkable: she took in the words, the sentiment, until her heart pounded with the luxurious feeling of warmth. She worried her bones might break from accepting the compliment, but they didn’t. Instead, she seemed to grow stronger.
“Ladies?” A man on a flatbed wagon pulled alongside Erva, concern written on his dirt-smeared face. “Everything all right?”
“It’s wonderful!” Meredith said before she even realized it.
Then Erva laughed, making Meredith join in.
“You ladies drunk? It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning.”
They laughed even harder at that. Even though Meredith had started to worry if she caught up with Jake, would he take her back?
Chapter 12
“Headin’ to Helena or Butte?”
Jake was a little surprised the feminine voice was addressing him, let alone hearing the accent. By then he should have gotten used to the Irish immigrants, and he’d always thought it a pleasure to hear their melodic lilt when they spoke.
He bowed his head once and tapped his Stetson at the sitting red-haired lady with a wilting hat pinned forcefully into her tresses, waiting for her train.
“Butte,” he croaked.
Last night the hotel’s manager had told him Mr. Bruisner, who apparently tipped well, had already left for Butte. He’d said as much with his hand out, expecting another tip apparently. Jake internally snarled at the forced bribery, but he did pitch a silver piece at the man, grateful for any tidbit about the retreating Bruisner. Before that, Jake had found other assorted information about Bruisner from a barkeep, but the hotel’s manager had interrupted. Although it had been the hotel’s manager telling him of Bruisner’s whereabouts, the barkeep had told him what he’d drunk, how much, and that he’d said something about having a girl out in Plateau. Bruisner had said that bit with particular pride and had mentioned returning to the small mining community for her, to make her his bride.
Jake had nearly roared with rage, but he’d held it in.
Now, in the Great Fall’s train station, he reminded himself to keep his anger at bay as the Irish woman scooted on a wooden bench, a little closer to where Jake stood on the obviously recently built deck. From a desperate need to have more men in Butte—the busy mining city, the railway had been constructed less than a few months ago, and the whole place reeked of new paint. The redhead, her hair was such a bright color it might be called orange, shuffled a little closer again.
“I’m goin’ to Butte too. I work there.”
The only thing he’d heard of women in Butte doing was working on their backs. He straightened and tried not to make it noticeable that he wanted nothing to do with her. Although, she didn’t exactly look like a prostitute with her blue calico dress buttoned all the way up her thin throat and that hat trying to dangle out of her wild hair, trapped by what looked like a million pins. Further, she had a wild look in her eye, as if ready to challenge the world. Not the dead look of some of the prostitutes he’d seen. And something about the woman’s feral gaze reminded him of his Meredith.
Oh, thinking of his beloved made his heart kick and pitch against his ribs. It hurt, those last words she’d said to him. He’d give her time. She’d come around to him again. She had to, for he was fairly certain he loved her something fierce. True, it was fast, this love, but what other way was there?
“I don’t work in the brothels. Ye stupid man.” The redhead said, making Jake snort.
“I didn’t think—”
“The hell you didn’t. I see it in yer face. Ye thought me some...some...”
Jake held his palms out, surrendering. “Ye obviously aren’t. So tell me what ye do in Butte.”
“I’m a governess, is what I am. Lord have mercy, ye thought me...”
“I’m not thinkin’ clear.”
“Obviously.”
He laughed then sobered. “Forgive me. I don’ know much about the town. I just heard things...I’m ignorant, that’s all.”
She smiled at that, her blue eyes danced when she glanced at him. “I like a man who can admit he’s an idiot.”
“Did I say as much?”
“All men are idiots.”
He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, ye have a dozen brothers, so ye know all men are idiots, aye?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I have only nine brothers. But, aye, that does make me an expert on the subject.”
“Irish Catholic,” he whispered under his breath.
“Scottish Protestant,” she said much louder.
They stared at each other, eyes narrowed and dark, then both smiled and chuckled at the same time.
“So why are ye heading to Butte, ye Scot?”
“I’m huntin’ down a man, ye Irish lass.” He’d meant to sound jovial, much like their conversation, but it had come out far too grim. Perhaps because it was a grim subject.
She straightened her back a little. “Ye a lawman or bounty hunter?”
Jake opened his jacket and revealed his silver star as well as the pistol on his hip.
Her eyes flicked over his badge. “Hmm, a bona fide lawman. Did the man do something bad? Is he Irish?”
Jake cracked another smile. “I don’ ken if he’s Irish or not. All indications are he’s merely American. And, aye, the man did something bad. He hounded after a fine lady, scarin’ her something fierce.”
Her narrowed eyes widened, then she blinked with a small smile. “‘Tis good ye catch him then. Ye must be a good man too.”
“I do try.”
“Maybe yer not such an idiot then.”
“I thank ye for the compliment.”
She smiled.
Not too long ago, he would have asked to sit next to her, to chat more, see if she wanted to sit next to him on the train. But now...he couldn’t even find the redheaded woman very pretty compared to his Meredith. He did like bantering with the Irish lass, but it felt more like a conversation with one of his brothers than any of the tête-à-têtes he’d had with Meredith. Oh, those nude tête-à-têtes of theirs...He loved the way her purple eyes stared at him when he spoke, as if every word he said was keened. He loved talking to her about so much already. He couldn’t wait for her to get the burr from her arse and calm down enough to talk to him again.
“I’m Caitlyn O’Neil.”
He fetched the hand she offered him. Surprising him, she shook his, not wanting the kiss he thought etiquette required.
“This is where you tell me your name, Scot lawman.”
He laughed. “Jacob Cameron, Miss O’Neil. But ye can call me Jake if it suits ye.”
“It does.” She hiked her chin up a notch. “Ye can call me Cat if it suits ye.”
“Cat? Not Cait?”
She rolled her eyes. “‘Tis a nickname. Don’t be an idiot about it.”
“I’ll try.”
She cracked a smile, but then hid it away. “Ye want to sit for a spell? The train doesn’t come for another twenty minutes. And that’s if it’s on time.”
He shook his head. “I thank ye, but nay. I need my legs to stretch for a bit before the long journey on the train.”
Her bright brows puckered. “That’s actually a fairly decent idea.” Reluctantly, she stood and stretched a
s ladylike as could be.
“I won’t let the second compliment ye extended to me go to my head.”
“Better not.”
He realized then, that as much as he thought he’d wanted to be alone, he liked not having to worry about how to win back Meredith. He knew he’d find a way eventually, but he hadn’t thought about anything else for the past day, and Cat’s incessant talk helped diminish the doubt ruminating in his mind. Oh, there was no doubt about Meredith. She already had his heart. What he doubted was if he’d ever prove himself to her.
“So this man ye’re huntin’, he have a name?”
Jake smiled once more, liking Cat’s curiosity. It probably wouldn’t do any harm to tell her. “A Mr. Bruisner. He works for—”
“The Butte Mining Company. He’s one of the men surveying land for The Company and locating small mines to buy.”
He frowned, wondering how she knew so much.
She smiled coyly. “Oh, I know of Mr. Bruisner, Jake.” Then she blinked rapidly. “I’ll tell ye everything ye want to know, if ye sit next to me on the train.”
“Blackmailin’ me, hmm? I thought ye Irish Catholic lasses were supposed to be good girls.”
Then she let out a loud laugh, even throwing her head back a little to compensate for the guffaw. She sidled closer to him, her lids half-hooded flirtatiously. He took a step back. Then her warm smile emerged.
“Aye, I want ye to sit next to me, for I think ye the kind of man who wouldn’t make a pass at me.”
“Ach, ye don’t know that. Ye need to be careful with strange men, lass. I could be—”
“I don’ need a lecture about strange men. Besides, I already know yer heart’s spoken for.” She took a tentative step forward again, this time her face more serious. “As is mine, Jake. I want ye to sit next to me, because the train can get boisterous with the miners. I’ve come close to blows with some of the drunk men, and I’d prefer not to do it again. I think with ye sitting’ next to me, I wouldn’t get accosted. And while we sit together, I can tell ye all about Mr. Bruisner, for my employer is Mr. Baker, the vice president of the Butte Mining Company. And my employer is a man who likes to talk and talk, especially so about the men he doesn’t like.”
Jake sighed. “I’m that transparent? Ye kenned my heart was taken?”
“No.” She laughed. “But now I do, and I trust ye even more, Jake. Why don’t ye sit with me on the train and tell me all about your sweetheart, and I’ll tell ye about mine.”
In the far off distance, the roar of the dragon on wheels was faintly heard. Accompanying it was the peel of its whistle. Jake smiled down at Cat. For once in so long, he found himself trusting another soul in this odd, odd world of 1887. “This is yer last chance to run away from me, for if we sit together on that train, after ye tell me about Mr. Bruisner and yer sweetheart, I’m liable to pine on and on about my girl. I’m real heartsick, ye ken? I don’t know what to do about it.”
Cat smiled widely. “I ken women, Jake. I’ll solve all yer problems lickety-split.”
Chapter 13
Meredith and Erva rushed through the crowded train’s station, trying to find where to buy the tickets. They’d wasted hours wandering through Great Falls, asking whether anyone had seen a tall, dark, handsome sheriff from Plateau. They’d given up for the day and settled into their quarters at the hotel and were having a beer to many stares of the men in the hotel’s bar, when they’d asked a barkeep about Jake’s whereabouts. The barkeep had been shooed away in a flurry by the hotel’s manager.
He’d smeared a smile into place that made Meredith think creep, then proffered to help in anyway possible with an extended palm. Erva understood the gesture faster than Meredith and had given him a small pile of the large paper money of the period. He stuffed it into his pocket.
“Mr. Otus Barth, at your service ladies. And, yes, I know where your sheriff is.” He extended his hand once more.
Erva rolled her eyes, but gave him more money, even though Coyote softly growled under the table they sat in the darkly-lit bar.
“He left,” Mr. Barth said with a wide and disgusting smile, while he patted the money in another pocket of his waistcoat. “He’s probably nearing the town of Helena by now on the train. On his way to Butte.”
He held his hand out again.
“Oh for goodness’s sake.” Meredith tried to argue against continuing to bribe the manager, when Erva placed more money in the man’s palm.
Mr. Barth gave Erva a particularly leering smile then, moseying just a little closer to the blonde. “Now that the lady has out paid all her contenders, I can honestly say there was another man asking for information about your sheriff. Actually, he was asking for misinformation. He paid me to tell your sheriff that he’d left on a previous train. When in fact he wanted to follow the sheriff himself. For another pretty price, I can tell you the man’s name.”
“It was Mr. Bruisner,” Erva said coldly.
Mr. Barth’s dark bushy brows drew up. “Intelligent and rich, you are everything a man desires.”
Erva gave him a wide smile, almost a little flirty too. “And I can castrate a man in less than twelve seconds, if need be. I truly am everything a man desires, aren’t I, Meredith?”
Meredith smiled herself, especially as Mr. Barth straightened and swallowed noticeably.
“What language,” Mr. Barth protested.
But it was difficult for Meredith to keep her grin, when realizing Jake had already left on a train with Mr. Bruisner hot on his heels rather than the other way around.
Back in the train station, even though it was already dark, Erva somehow found the office for purchasing tickets and, apparently having all the money in the world, paid for one of the soonest train rides, while Meredith worried she might throw up. The cacophony from the crowd at the station didn’t help, seeming to push into her roiling stomach. God, Jake had better be okay.
They had already compensated a livery stable for the horses to stay for a couple weeks, thanks to Erva thinking of...well, everything.
Erva gave Meredith her ticket, and she couldn’t help herself, but hugged Erva quickly, while trying to stave off any tears in front of a large horde of what seemed to be almost all men, probably miners, looking for jobs in Butte, the city of copper.
“It’ll be all right,” Erva whispered loudly, trying to be heard above the baritone buzz of the mob.
Meredith nodded and had to swallow more bile down, trying not to grimace in the process. As she wrapped her arms around herself, she thought of Jake for the millionth time. Granted, being with Erva had settled her nerves, but now all she thought about was the mistakes she had made, and now the mistakes she’d made with Jake.
They’d had sex too soon, hardly knowing each other. But she couldn’t do much about that, the damage was done. Or—the odd thought flittered through her mind—what if it hadn’t been a mistake? What if the only mistake she’d made was telling him she never wanted to see him again—all melodramatic like an idiot?
Somehow they boarded the train in a blur. Someone had told Erva she couldn’t board her dog. Erva had nodded and turned, pretending to scold Coyote into staying on the dock of the train station when she’d actually covered him with her skirts. Inside their first-class compartment, all to themselves, Erva shook out her blue dress. Her dog jumped up onto a red-velvet seat, appearing to have a wide smile.
Erva shook her finger at him. “Don’t tell Will you were under my skirts.”
Coyote nipped at her finger but missed.
Meredith sat close to the dog, needing his ever-present tranquility. Once she began to stroke around his ears, he settled closer, his head resting on her lap. Erva gracefully folded unto the bench seat across from her with an uneasy smile. Almost as soon as they sat, the train rocked into action, pushing southward and picking up speed quickly. The clacking of the iron wheels running over the iron bars made Meredith want to cringe, as if the rhythmic sound was more akin to nails running along a chalkboard.
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“We’ll find him,” Erva said reassuringly.
Meredith nodded, but couldn’t look at Erva then. She feared too much to see her own worry reflected.
The train’s car seemed to be too large, even with the two red-velvet bench seats and the latched-tightly-to-the-wall small beds on top of the seats. There was also a slender storage space to squeeze all their saddlebags into. But it was too big of a chamber, too wide. The opposite of claustrophobia. Nothing was crushing in on Meredith. But it might not be true for Jake.
“So tell me more about this Irish fella of yours,” Erva said through Meredith’s turmoil.
She shrugged. “I barely know him. He’s sweet though. I’ve never met a man that was as sweet as Jake. That is, until I met Mr. Coyote here. Yes, I did. Yes, I did.” She ruffled Coyote’s fur along his jaw, and the dog thumped one of his back legs.
Erva chuckled. “You two really hit it off.”
Meredith shrugged once more, paying attention to petting Coyote. “He doesn’t judge me.”
“Jake didn’t judge you either?”
“He didn’t know me. I never told him what I had done in my past life. So he couldn’t judge me.”
She startled a bit when she felt through her skirts Erva squeeze one of her knees. Looking up, Erva’s warm amber-brown eyes had grown wide with concern.
While straightening and getting comfortable back in her seat, Erva said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I talked to Will about you. Oh, I couldn’t talk much. He had to study. But I told him about David.”
Meredith maybe should have bristled at being a topic of the loving couple’s discussions. But she didn’t. She was curious more than anything else.
“Commitmentphobia is a word thrown around a lot about guys like David. But Will isn’t convinced it’s a real phobia. Although, he did state he wasn’t sure and thought about researching it a little more.”
Erva spoke with a lot of pride about Will’s knowledge, and as a psychiatrist and neurologist, he would have a pretty good idea of phobias. It was wonderful to see her friend filled with admiration for her husband. Though it stung a little. Luckily, not as much as it once hurt, filling Meredith with so much envy she worried she’d grit her teeth so hard she’d turn them into pebbles. Now, it stung because she might have had a chance with Jake, but out of panic she’d thrown it away.
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