"Miss Harrison." Ever polite, the sheriff rose from his chair. He was the closest thing the town had to an objective bystander. Even the newspaper held a biased slant on every news story in town. The sheriff never seemed to have an opinion on anything. He just arrested any man who crossed the fine line of the law and let the citizenry do the rest. This was the man she had to appeal to.
"Sheriff." Janice stiffly nodded her head. Now that the glare was out of her eyes, she could look over her glasses and recognize the other men with him. Mr. Holt was here. So was Jason. She exchanged looks with him, then scanned the rest of the crowd—mostly the school board. That answered volumes right there.
"I understand you have arrested the perpetrator of last night's fire." She had established herself as a no-nonsense type of woman. Old maids were allowed that privilege. She used it to her benefit now.
The sheriff nodded grimly. "We think so. He's a drifter, camped at the river behind your place last night. Don't think he did it deliberately. Probably got drunk and fell asleep and let his campfire get out of control."
"Is that the story he tells?" A moment of apprehension shook her. The story seemed very plausible. She hadn't intended to rescue a drunk. She had meant to rescue the man who had saved her home.
"He swears he put out his fire before he went to sleep, but there ain't any other explanation. The school's been closed up this past week or more and there's been no fire in the stove that might have blazed up. There warn't anyone else out there but you and him. Facts is facts."
"Well, I certainly can't debate that," she assured him, but her mind spun. She knew what she'd seen. That man had nearly killed himself trying to save the school. And she was quite certain that without him she wouldn't have a home today. The thought of losing those few precious possessions she had accumulated with such hard work over all these years made her shiver as she spoke. She didn't care if he was a drunk. He didn't deserve to be punished for what he couldn't help.
She turned her gaze to Jason. He had the money and position in this town to make his voice heard. And he was her friend. "I saw the man they put in jail this morning. He's the same man who almost single-handedly saved my house last night. If he started the fire, I'm sure it was an accident, and he did everything humanly possible to put it out. What do you intend to do with him?"
"Well, Miss Harrison, I reckon it's up to a jury. Arson is a serious charge." The sheriff drawled the answer even though she wasn't looking at him.
Janice disregarded this nonsense and continued staring at Jason. He shifted his weight uneasily and ran his fingers through his graying hair. The gray made him look distinguished rather than old. He was still a handsome man, but he didn't seem aware of it. Jason wasn't aware of much of anything but his damned ranch.
"Now, Jenny, don't you go lookin' at me like that." The pet name he used for her had developed gradually over a period of years. "Janice" was just too clipped and formal for him. "There ain't nothin' I can do about it. We can't just let drifters roam through here, burning the town down."
"He didn't burn the town down, he worked to save it. You don't think I'd be here now if I thought anything else? That fire's likely to have cost me my job and almost cost me my home. If I thought he was responsible, I'd be the first person to say hang him."
She hesitated about mentioning that he'd come to her first, warning her of the fire. Somehow, the fact that he'd been the first to see the fire made his presence all the more suspicious.
A couple of the men from the school board snickered in the corner. Janice clenched her jaw against an urge to smack their hands with a ruler and demand that they tell the class what they found so all-fired funny. In this case, she had a suspicion she knew. The image of the old-maid schoolteacher come to save the virile young drifter would fire their limited imaginations.
One of them cleared his throat and poked Jason in the ribs. Out of habit, Jason leaned in his direction, and the man whispered something in his ear. Jason had spent years telling the school board what to do with his stepmother's trust fund. The habit of deferring to him died hard. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he listened to the suggestion.
"I don't know, Mick. You seen the man? He looks a scoundrel to me. Don't look to me like Miss Harrison would be safe with a man like that out there all day."
Janice felt her stomach plummet to her toes. Out where all day? What in the name of heaven were they cooking up now? She didn't like the look on anybody's face as Mick whispered his suggestion to someone else. If he'd been in her class, he would be sitting in the corner right now. Whispering wasn't polite.
"Sheriff, why don't you bring the man out here and let us question him? Maybe we got a suggestion or two that might solve a few problems." Pushing back his leather vest, Jason found a wooden chair and sat down, propping one boot on the sheriff's desk as if he owned the place. Which he no doubt did. His bank held the mortgages on every building in town.
Janice shifted uneasily into a far corner of the crowded office. She hadn't meant to attract anyone's notice. She'd asserted herself much further than she had ever intended. She had just wanted the sheriff to know what the man had done. But now she didn't dare leave before she found out what they were up to.
"Doc said he's suffering from smoke inhalation and ought to rest. He passed out cold on us when we brought him in here." The sheriff shifted his big shoulders uneasily.
"Doc" was a euphemism for the pharmacist. He'd never had real medical training, but he claimed to have worked with a doctor some years ago. There weren't any other medical professionals around to argue with him. Janice waited impatiently for someone to make a decision.
"Well, we can't all fit back there. Just set him in that chair there and we'll be real quick." Jason shoved his foot against another chair no one had been bold enough to take.
When no one offered any objections, the sheriff picked up his key ring and went to fetch his prisoner. Janice clasped her hands nervously. She didn't know why, but she didn't want the drifter looking at her. It was a quite irrational feeling, but she did her best to hide in the corner anyway, concealing herself behind a solid wall of men's bodies.
The prisoner emerged peacefully enough. She could peek between Mr. Holt and Mick and catch a glimpse of him as the sheriff jerked his arm and shoved him into the room. He was a tall man. She remembered that much. The sheriff was the tallest man in town, taller even than Jason, and the stranger matched the sheriff's height.
He had wide shoulders and narrow hips. She didn't know what made her think that. She'd never noticed a man's hips before. She would have blushed had she not been hidden. The man couldn't possibly know what she was thinking.
The beard was an abomination and his stench reached her even back in this corner, but Janice didn't imagine it had occurred to the sheriff to offer him a bath. She wondered what he would look like once he was cleaned up. She thought he might look a good deal younger than she'd first thought. The way he had commanded the crowd last night, she had thought him an older man accustomed to authority. She could see that wasn't so now. She gulped when he turned and his eyes seemed to find her even through the solid wall of bodies. He had green eyes. And long lashes.
He didn't smile. He didn't take the seat offered. With his wrists manacled in front of him, he merely scanned the crowd without expression. He didn't even complain or question the reason for being brought here. She didn't think he cared why he had been brought here. It was as if he were calmly telling them all to go to hell, that he had better things to do. She had never seen anything quite like it.
"These gentlemen here want to ask you a few questions." The sheriff jerked his thumb in Jason's direction.
The stranger raised his eyebrows in that direction without comment.
"What's your name?" Jason demanded.
"Peter Aloysius Mulloney. And yours?"
Janice didn't hear Jason's response. With a gasp, she grasped the nearest wall to hold herself steady. It couldn't be. There couldn't be two men of tha
t name. Peter Aloysius Mulloney had been the man who had fired her sister and caused Janice to lose her job. His family had been responsible for the shantytown where the rent collector had beat up her parents. This couldn't be the man she hated as much as she could hate anyone.
The arrogance of his response said it could. And the glitter of those hard green eyes as they found her again were exact duplicates of the man she despised even more than this man. She stared into the eyes of Artemis Mulloney, the man who owned Cutlerville, the man who had destroyed her life.
Chapter 5
Mulloney saw the schoolteacher slip out the door while the yahoo in the leather vest interrogated him. He knew she was the schoolteacher. He had heard the men last night discussing her, and he'd overheard her plea for reason this morning.
He knew she was the nymph from last night and the blond goddess of the dawn he had seen this morning. She had just managed to disguise that fact behind those gawd-awful spectacles and an enormous hat. He didn't know why his mind was on the woman rather than these asses bombarding him with idiot questions. If they would just stop and let him speak his piece, this would all go much faster. Maybe the woman had tired of listening to their yammering. He didn't think that was the real reason, though.
"What was your purpose in coming to Mineral Springs, Mr. Mulloney?" the man in the leather vest asked.
Peter raised a cynical eyebrow. "Why, I came to burn the schoolhouse down. That's what I do best. I travel around looking for schoolhouses to burn. It's a most rewarding occupation." He was getting tired of this. His head hurt, his throat was raw, and his stomach was about to eat his insides out. And these redneck cowboys were keeping him tied up here when he needed to be cleaning himself up and looking for the Double H. Maybe he ought to stop in and visit the schoolteacher if he got a chance.
Better yet, he'd look for a whorehouse.
The sheriff yanked his bound arms and Peter winced.
"Better answer the question, boy. You're already in a heap of trouble."
Peter yanked his arm back. "Look, it would save us a great deal of time if you would just pay attention. I told you. I'm here on business. I got in late last night and camped out by the river. I cleaned up and got ready to turn in when I saw fire in the windows of a building down the road. I ran to the nearest house to get help and took a bucket to start pouring water on the flames. That's all there is to it.
"Did anybody notice which way the wind blew last night?" he demanded, as if he were the one doing the questioning. "Did anybody look to see what direction the fire followed, if it really could have blown from my fire toward the school? Did anyone even look at the remains to see if they could discover the cause of the fire? If you'd done any one of those things, it would be evident I'm not your man. I haven't got time to waste jawing with you."
Some of the men where whispering at the back, and Peter scowled in their direction. They were the same ones he'd heard whispering about the schoolteacher earlier. He probably shouldn't have mentioned he'd run to her house first, but he was trying to get the facts straight here. He'd have to worry about the teacher once he got himself out of these manacles.
"What is your business here?" Leather Vest inquired again.
Peter gave up. He might as well talk to a cage full of monkeys. It was a trifle hard adopting an authoritative pose while garbed in stained denim and cotton, smelling like a smokehouse, and unshaven, but he did his best. He pulled himself straight and glared straight into Leather Vest's eyes.
"I'm here on business with Jason Harding of the Double H. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
Leather Vest remained unperturbed. "I'm Jason Harding, and I'm not expecting any visitors."
Well, that finished that. Might as well scratch the Harding brothers off the list. He'd have to move on to Natchez, if he ever got himself out of this hellhole. Cursing inwardly, Peter gave a stiff nod. "Glad to meet you. My brother Daniel told me to look you up while I was out here."
"Daniel? Daniel Mulloney? Damnation, it's a wonder you didn't burn the whole town down!" Slapping his thigh and roaring, Harding shook his head in disbelief. The others around him erupted in similar cackles. "That boy ever tell you how he blew up Main Street? Only a fool or his brother would admit to being Daniel's kin around here. Guess that makes you the real thing."
Jason Harding turned and pounded the sheriff on the back. "Well, Powell, if he is who he says he is, looks like we can solve this problem right enough. Why don't you have someone telegraph Daniel for identification while we settle this right here?"
Peter didn't allow himself to relax. He didn't like the way that was being said, and he liked it even less that they were notifying Daniel of his whereabouts. The older brother he'd never known until he was grown, the son their father had thrown away, had assumed more than the reins of Mulloney Enterprises upon his return to the family fold. He'd taken on the whole damned family. Peter didn't want to be another of Daniel's projects. He wasn't going to beg, but he turned a wary eye to Harding.
"You'll word that telegram just so he knows you're verifying my identity, won't you? His wife's expecting and I don't want them troubled with the rest of this idiocy."
Jason clapped his shoulder and grinned. "I already believe you are who you say you are. Nobody but Daniel's brother could cause such an uproar. Powell will do his civic duty and no more."
Peter held his manacled wrists up questioningly. The sheriff hesitated over the keys, turning to Harding for authority.
"Unwrap him, Powell. I'm sure once he understands our predicament, he'll be proud to help out. Where'd Jenny go? She ought to be here to explain." He glanced around and, not finding Janice, shrugged and turned back.
"She musta thought we were getting a little unruly. She'll probably smack our hands with a ruler if we don't do this right."
Several of the men guffawed, but Peter noticed several held back disapprovingly. "Jenny" wasn't friends with everyone, it seemed. He didn't know why it should matter to him, but she had tried to help at a time when no one else would. Few enough people in this world would do a thing like that if it wasn't necessary. He'd like to return the favor. He'd like to do more than return the favor, if he were truthful with himself, but he didn't have time for that now. He had to get to Natchez.
The sheriff unfastened the handcuffs and Peter rubbed his wrists while he waited for whatever entertainment Harding had planned next. He didn't wait for long.
"Now, the way I figure it, all you need to do is build the schoolhouse back like it was, and we're even. We made Daniel and those friends of his fill the street back in, and it looks to me like we've got the same situation here. Jenny will have her school back, and we can do a little business when you're done. How's that sound?"
Not good. Not promising at all. Peter stared at him incredulously. "Build a school? I wouldn't know where to begin, even if I admitted to burning it, which I don't."
"That's not a problem. We can probably scrape together enough money for the lumber. There's plenty of broad backs around to do the labor. You just gotta get it organized and keep it going. Fellas tend to be shiftless a mite if someone ain't on them all the time. Know what I mean?" Jason gave a steely look that belied his friendly tones. "And if that ain't to your likin', we could always keep you locked up until the judge comes around. You can plead your case afore him, if you want. But that won't get Jenny her schoolhouse. Without it, she can't teach. There will be those who'll want to take her home away if she ain't teaching. Are you beginning to understand me?"
Unfortunately, yes, he was. Peter rubbed his brow where the ache just became a little stronger. "How much time you figure this will take? I've got business back in New Mexico that can't wait too long."
Harding shrugged. "Not more than a week or two. We don't need nothin' fancy. I've got to go into Houston on business anyway. I'll see what I can find in the way of books and things, but you'll have to have them put together desks and whatever else Jenny says she needs. When I get back, if all's well, we
can have that little talk you wanted."
He had him pinned there. Harding wasn't such a yahoo after all. The man knew what Peter wanted, and he dangled it like a carrot on a stick. Peter sighed and nodded. "I take it the schoolteacher is the one I need to ask for details? If you're not going to be here, can I rely on her to give me the name of people who are supposed to help on this project?"
"Jenny can give you anything you ask, including cash from what's left of the trust fund for the lumber, unless you're willing to donate that yourself?" Jason raised an eyebrow as he prodded his prisoner a little more.
Peter smelled a hint of a threat there, and he rebelled. "If I'd done it, I'd be wiring for the funds now. The only reason I'm falling for your blackmail is because I don't want the teacher to lose her job, and I'm in a hurry to get out of here. This seems the fastest way to take care of both."
Jason nodded. "Have it your way. Just have that school up when I get back. And don't think you can walk away. Powell's the best damned tracker in the territory. He'll find you wherever you go."
"Just tell me where I can get some breakfast and some hot water to wash in. I'm not doing anything until I've eaten and made myself presentable."
Jason grinned, all affability once more. "Powell takes care of his prisoners. He'll get you what you need. You'd better bathe some before you go see Miss Jenny. She's likely to send you home if you go up there smelling like a polecat."
They made her sound like a real tartar when all he'd seen was a nymph, but Peter wasn't about to argue with them over the local schoolmarm. He'd damned well have that building up and be out of here before another week went by. He couldn't afford delays like this.
* * *
Janice wheeled her cycle back into town as the sun lowered behind her. The Double H had been quiet with the kids and Carmen gone and Kyle out checking a fence break. She'd arrived after Jason had already left for Houston. His cryptic instructions for the time he was away had left her vaguely puzzled, but that was nothing new. She would just ask Kyle about them tomorrow.
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