Becoming Miss Becky

by Shannon Stacey

  “By God, we got more female troubles in this town,” Adam declared, and then he laughed. “I’d like to meet the person who way back decided men could shoot each other, but it’s bad form for a man to shoot a woman.”

  “Bet it was a woman.”

  The barkeep approached with a bottle, but Adam waved him off. If he had to deal with Lucy, Eliza Jane and quite possibly Rebecca, it was best he did it within spitting distance of sober.

  He stood and donned his hat. “I reckon I’ll go strike fear into the hearts of some husbands. The more women they can keep home, the better.”

  Will followed him out into the sunlight. “You should start with Fiona. There ain’t a cowboy in the county brave enough to part a crowd of women like that to get in the Coop. When she realizes Lucy and Eliza Jane are costin’ her money, she’s liable to chase them off with that shotgun of hers.”

  “Folks don’t mind a woman shooting another woman as much as a man shooting one.”

  “Adam.”

  “I’m not being serious and you damn well know it. And Fiona’s not stupid. She knows if she aims a gun at a so-called decent woman in this town, not even I can save her.”

  Will said something, but a flash of color caught Adam’s eye and everything fell away but for Rebecca walking down the planks on the other side of the street. She looked a little thinner and a little pale, but that could be corset strings and face paint for all he knew. And yet she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  As if she could feel him staring, she turned and met his gaze. He expected her to look away, but she slowed, ignoring the woman who was still talking to her. There was a sadness in Rebecca’s eyes he could see even from where he stood, and he wondered whether crossing the street would make it better or worse.

  He didn’t know how long they stood like that, but finally the woman she was with touched her elbow and the moment was broken. After one last mournful glance in his direction, Rebecca continued on her way.

  “I knew you’d hurt her,” Will said when Adam straightened his shoulders and turned back to him.

  “You planning to swing on me?”

  “I would, but I think you’re hurting yourself as much as you’re hurting her.”

  Funny how the doc didn’t seem to factor in how she might be doing some of the hurting, but he didn’t intend to stand on the side of the street and discuss his feelings like a schoolgirl. “You sound more like a woman every day, Doc.”

  He looked like he was reconsidering taking that swing when Billy Seymour ran up to them. “Doc! Rosalie’s havin’ her baby and you’d better come quick.”

  “I’d better go get my bag and let Eliza Jane know. I might be gone a while.”

  “Hold on!” Will and Billy both turned back. “Boy, you come over here.”

  Billy did as was told while trying not to show fear. “Yes sir?”

  “You look me in the eye and tell me how much Doc Martinson’s paying you to come up with these medical emergencies.”

  Will laughed, but Billy’s eyes got big. “I swear Rosalie’s having her baby, Sheriff. I heard her screaming myself, and she told her husband if he ever touched her again she’d cut off his—”

  “Billy,” Will interrupted. “You go on and get my bag and see if Mrs. Martinson’s around for me.”

  “You’re paying that boy,” Adam said. “You just don’t want to be around come dusk.”

  “Fine. You go deliver Rosalie’s baby and I’ll deal with the Coop. Just remember when it’s time to squeeze out the afterbirth, you’ve—”

  The liquor turned over in Adam’s stomach and he held up his hand. “Fine. But if I pay a call on Rosalie tomorrow there’d best be a baby or you’re in a heap of trouble.”

  “The heap’s all yours, my friend.”

  Chapter Twelve

  By the third round of “Amazing Grace”, Becky was practically sitting on Fiona to hold her down.

  “Ain’t no cowboys gonna walk past them to get in here,” Fiona pointed out. “She’s cutting into my pay.”

  “I’ve already told you twice I’ll make up the loss from the household funds, but I absolutely forbid you to go out there and shoot Lucy Barnes.”

  “Sheriff Caldwell already told you if he sees that shotgun tonight he’ll lock you up,” Holly added.

  “Adam was here?” Becky turned to look at her and the distraction was all Fiona needed. She broke free, but she didn’t try to leave the room so Becky let her be for the moment.

  “He didn’t come in,” Holly said quickly. “He just came to the door and said he didn’t want no trouble from us and if he saw that shotgun poke out the door he was going to lock Fiona up until she was too old to whore anymore.”

  “He doesn’t want any trouble from us?” Becky repeated. “We’re not the ones gathered on somebody else’s doorstep, disrupting their business.”

  Holly’s eyes got big, like they always did when voices were raised. “He figures he’s got a better chance of keeping us in line than the Bible Brigade.”

  “Oh he does, does he? I don’t believe I’ve ever given him cause to believe I’m the malleable sort.”

  She stood and paced in front of the settee, trying to block out the righteous caterwauling from the street. For her and the chickens to be practically prisoners in their home while the decent women were allowed to harass them with impunity was simply unacceptable, and she didn’t give a damn what the good sheriff thought.

  “Miss Becky,” Betty said, “you shouldn’t let this upset you like this. You know, I whored in a lot of places before Miss Adele took me in, bless her heart, and we’re treated pretty good in Gardiner and mostly allowed to do our business in peace. They’re just extra riled up because of the spectacle, but if we just do as the sheriff tells us, it’ll go back to the way it usually is.”

  The spectacle. Sometimes she really wished she could take that moment back. Other times, like now, she was glad she’d given Adam Caldwell what for. That man was entirely too arrogant.

  “The singing stopped,” Holly said, and Fiona went to peek through the curtains.

  “Oh hell,” she said. “Mrs. Martinson’s out there, with some of her friends. I see Dandy Thayer and…oh no.”

  “What?” they all shouted at once, all moving toward the window.

  “Mrs. Barnes is shaking her Bible at Mrs. Martinson and Mrs. Martinson’s laughing at her.”

  “Oh no,” Holly and Betty agreed.

  Becky quickly checked her appearance in the mirror and, finding herself suitably offensive to the Bible Brigade, addressed the chickens. “You all stay inside. I mean it. And, Fiona, if you touch that shotgun and go to jail, I’m giving all those pretty things in your room to Holly and Betty.”

  Fiona crossed her arms and shaped her painted mouth into a pout that might have worked on a man. Becky only looked at her. “Okay, fine. I promise I won’t touch the gun.”

  Satisfied the chickens would limit their involvement to watching through the window, Becky took a deep breath and walked to the door. She simply couldn’t sit inside while Eliza Jane fought this battle for her.

  When she pulled it open, all the women fell silent, staring at her. After stepping outside she pulled the door closed and smiled at Lucy Barnes. “As touching as we find being serenaded, if you want to come in all you have to do is knock.”

  The woman hissed in so much breath, Becky was surprised her buttons didn’t pop off. “I would never disgrace myself by stepping so much as a foot into that filthy den of sin.”

  “You disgrace yourself every time you call yourself a good Christian woman, Lucy Barnes,” Eliza Jane snapped.

  “How dare you, you…you…”

  “Ladies,” Becky interrupted as the two groups faced off like gunslingers in a dime novel, “there’s no reason to shout at one another in the street. Let’s—”

  “And just what do you know about being a good woman, Eliza Jane Martinson?” Lucy demanded. “You can’t even cook and you run around tel
ling women they should disrespect their husbands and—”

  “You’re a fine one to talk about disrespecting husbands. Poor Mr. Barnes is more henpecked than Dandy’s old rooster, you miserable bat!”

  Lucy’s face turned a dangerous shade of red. “And you can’t bear children because God is punishing you for your wickedness.”

  Every woman in the crowd, including Becky, gasped. That was too far, even for her.

  Eliza Jane put her hands on her hips and glared at Lucy. “At least my daughter didn’t run off and get married just to get away from me.”

  Becky barely had time to sidestep out of the way before Lucy launched herself at Eliza Jane, whacking her in the head with her Bible. Eliza Jane put up her arms to defend herself and the two women fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and skirts. The other women stared in helpless wonder, except for one member of the Bible Brigade who reached into the melee with lightning fast reflexes and saved Lucy’s Bible from landing in the dirt.

  “That’s enough!” Becky yelled, trying to pull Lucy up by the arm. Unfortunately her hand was tangled in Eliza Jane’s hair and Becky couldn’t lift them both. “Eliza Jane! Mrs. Barnes! Stop it right this second!”

  They ignored her and kept flailing in the dirt, trying to beat their opinions into the other’s head. Having no experience with brawling—especially brawling women—Becky decided she’d best fetch Fiona. She turned, but her attention was caught by the man coming up the street.

  For a moment she forgot all about the crowd of angry women outside the Coop, forgot the doctor’s wife and the banker’s wife were trying to kill each other at her feet.

  Sheriff Adam Caldwell was bearing down on them like a big, unstoppable freight train. She could practically see the steam rolling off of him. And with his hands resting on his gunbelt, accenting his wide shoulders, and his hat pulled down low he was an imposing figure and Becky wanted him.

  She tried not to. She’d been trying not to every day and every night for so long she should have been better at it. But watching him stalk toward her, she wanted to throw herself at him and never let him go.

  “That’s enough!” he bellowed when he got close, and everybody fell silent.

  Except Eliza Jane and Lucy, who were too busy screaming insults at each other to hear him. They’d more or less reached an impasse physically. Lucy was using her left arm to pin down Eliza Jane’s right, and their other hands were locked together, each fighting for supremacy, as though they were arm wrestling.

  When they ignored him, he went to the corner of the building, drew a bucket of water from the fire barrel and carried it over. Becky jumped back just in time to keep from being splashed when he doused the two fighting women.

  They came up sputtering, the water plastering their mussed hair and making rivers of mud in the street dust on their faces.

  “Both of you get up right now or I will drag you down the street by your hair. And the rest of you…go home.”

  The women scattered while Eliza Jane and Lucy pushed themselves to their feet, but Adam had already turned his attention to Becky. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for his condemnation. No doubt it wouldn’t be long in coming.

  She saw in his eyes he wanted to say something, but then his expression blanked and he wrapped one hand around the upper arm of each of the other women and started marching them down the street.

  Becky watched him until he was out of sight, and then she went inside. His silence cut her even worse than his criticism. If there was nothing left to say, there was no longer any hope.

  Adam was surprised neither Lucy nor Eliza Jane fought being thrown into separate cells to await their husbands. He wasn’t sure if they were grateful he hadn’t simply put them out of their husbands’ misery, or if they were genuinely ashamed of their behavior.

  Whatever the reason, he was glad they weren’t squawking at him because there wasn’t room for them in his thoughts. All he could think about was that hopeful look in Rebecca’s eyes when she thought he might speak to her.

  He’d intended to. But when the time came to open his mouth, he couldn’t think of anything to say, so instead he’d walked away. But in the second before he turned around, he’d seen the hurt cross her face. It pained him to leave her looking after him like that, but when neither of them would give an inch, there was no sense in going back.

  And if the woman had just listened to him when she first got to Gardiner, the town wouldn’t be in an uproar and he wouldn’t have two women locked up in his cells.

  Three hours ticked very slowly by before Adam stepped out onto the street and cast a glance toward the Chicken Coop. A man was on his way in, looking around like he expected the Bible Brigade to jump out of the shadows and starting singing again.

  He was deliberating on using the events of the evening as an excuse to check on Rebecca when a horse coming down the street caught his attention. Eliza Jane’s husband had finally returned to town, far too late to be of any damned help.

  Adam figured he might as well let the doctor know what had happened before he got comfortable somewhere or went looking for his wife, so he headed down the sidewalk.

  He experienced a small pang of regret when he saw the weariness in his friend’s eyes, but it had to be said. “Howdy, Doc.”

  “Adam.” He dismounted and passed the reins to Johnny Barnes, who led the horse into the livery. “You look tense, my friend.”

  Best to just be out with it. “I’ve got Eliza Jane locked up.”

  Will gave a beleaguered sigh. “I reckon it’s better you arrested her than shot her outright. Could’ve been worse.”

  “Lucy Barnes is in the other cell.”

  “Hellfire, that is worse. I was only gone a few hours. What happened?”

  Adam pushed back his hat and wiped his brow. Damn awkward conversation to be having. “They were brawling in the street. Eliza Jane took offense at something Lucy said and said something just as bad. Lucy whacked her with her Bible and next thing they’re rolling in the dirt, pulling hair and trying to scratch each other’s eyes out.”

  “I’m almost sorry I missed that.”

  “I’m rethinking my decision not to run Rebecca Hamilton out of town, I can tell you that much. She’s twice the trouble your wife ever was.”

  “Becky ain’t pointed a loaded shotgun at you. Yet.”

  “True. There was that.”

  They made their way down the street back toward the jail at a leisurely pace. Adam took for granted Will wasn’t any more eager to face the combined wrath of Lucy Barnes and Eliza Jane Martinson than he was.

  “I imagine it takes a mighty brave man to step in between those two.”

  Adam snorted. “I ain’t no fool. Doused them with a bucket of water—from a distance.”

  Adam spotted Brent Barnes coming toward them and it lifted his spirits immeasurably. With the husbands of both prisoners at hand, he’d soon have empty cells and a peaceful evening.

  A long, lonely evening just like the last two weeks of long, lonely evenings he’d passed. Without Rebecca’s affections to look forward to, the nights dragged on damn near forever.

  He was saved from further rumination on that sorry affair when Barnes suddenly changed directions a split second after Adam made eye contact. “Brent Barnes, you hold it right there!”

  The man paused, twitched, then kept right on walking.

  “Barnes! Don’t make me shoot you!”

  Thankfully, the man stopped of his own accord and turned around. “Oh hello, Sheriff.”

  As if Barnes hadn’t seen him and turned tail. “You come on with us and collect your wife.”

  He looked around to see if anybody was listening. “Can’t it wait? Just a little while longer?”

  He wasn’t without sympathy for the man. It couldn’t be easy waking up next to Lucy Barnes every morning. But allowing Barnes to shirk his duty to his wife left the woman in his own lap, so to speak.

  Adam shuddered. “You can’t leave her ther
e forever, Brent. Might as well do it now.”

  “The longer you leave her there, the more steam she’s going to build up,” Will pointed out.

  Barnes took a deep breath, like a man climbing the first step of the gallows. “Best get it over with, I guess. Women sure are trying to a man’s soul.”

  “Amen,” Adam and Will said together.

  When Eliza Jane didn’t show up for tea the next morning, Becky assumed she was either recuperating from her incarceration or Will was still reading her the riot act. Not that she minded drinking her tea alone, but after spending a restless night thinking of Adam, she didn’t particularly care to be alone with her thoughts.

  She was still staring down into a cold cup of tea when the chickens came down, making their disappointment at the lack of Marguerite’s muffins known.

  Becky forced a cheerful smile onto her face and looked up to greet them. The words died on her tongue when she saw Betty’s face. An angry bruise colored her cheek down to a slightly puffy lip. “What happened to you?”

  Betty paused in pouring coffee from the pot Becky had set on for them. “Oh, Pete from over to the Rocking-S was complaining about the Bible Brigade being outside and causin’ him delay in comin’ in and I made a joke about finding his pleasure and salvation in the same place. His Daddy was a preacher so he didn’t find it funny.”

  Becky pushed back her chair. “I’m going to get the sheriff.”

  All three of them shook their heads but, as usual, it was Fiona who spoke up. “It’s been dealt with. I charged him extra and told him if he ever did it again he could pull himself raw before he stepped foot in the Coop again.”

  “That’s dealt with? He struck her, Fiona. I’m going to find Adam. I want the man brought up on charges.”

  Fiona’s surprisingly strong hand pushed Becky back down into her chair. “You girls take your coffee upstairs while I talk to Miss Becky.”

  Becky was surprised to see tears glimmering in Betty’s eyes as they walked silently out of the kitchen. She was usually the most cheerful of the women.

  “Fiona, charging him extra isn’t enough.”