Winter Winds of Wyoming

by Fyffe, Caroline

  “You have my word.”

  His word? What was his word good for? Only ruining her life.

  Chapter Twenty

  With the four o’clock hour quickly approaching, Dalton leaned just inside the doorway of the Bright Nugget sipping a cup of lukewarm coffee as he watched Hunter traverse the room with a tray of dirty whiskey glasses stacked precariously lopsided. Greasy, bean-and-gravy smeared plates littered the bar top. The buzz of conversation competed with piano music.

  Dalton contemplated his duty as judge with growing apprehension. He’d studied the display windows and what each and every business had to offer. The larger businesses—such as the El Dorado Hotel, the mercantile, the First National Bank, the Silky Hen, and the haberdashery—had gone to an enormous amount of work, and to his unstudied eye in the way of fashion and design, they all sort of looked the same.

  Now, the smaller establishments were a different matter altogether. Dalton found those quite unique. The school’s was simply a drawing of shepherds guarding their flock and placed in a window.

  Lettie’s Bakery, where he tasted her wares each time he went in, displayed a grouping of sketches she’d put together in a collage depicting the manger scene when Jesus was born. They were placed on a tabletop next to the window. One had to be careful on entering so a gust of wind didn’t scatter them to the floor.

  In the telegraph office, Abner Wesserman had created a Christmas elf from corn stalks and several lumps of coal. The Santa’s helper lookalike sat leisurely on a stool labeled in red as the North Pole, gazing upon the world outside. Abner was a wealth of town information, and Dalton learned something interesting each and every day, a fact a newly hired deputy found very useful.

  Now, on a different scale, Kendall Martin and Hunter Wade at the Bright Nugget had used their newly constructed performance stage as the focal point. Positioning a large chair in the center, one of the working girls dressed up as Mrs. Claus and sang, danced, or let the men sit on her knee and tell her what they wanted for Christmas—all for a price, of course. Proud as peacocks, the two saloon partners boasted the only live display—and one which earned a profit as well.

  Dalton had walked the quarter mile to the train depot to see if Mr. Hatfield had gone to the trouble of setting up a display. He wasn’t disappointed. In the center of the room, a train circled a knee-high Christmas tree. The track went through bridges and up and down several hills. Parked alongside was a miniature of a depot. The handsome black engine was done in great detail. With a tiny push, the brightly painted train cars—which included a coal car, two boxcars, one livestock car, a tanker, and a caboose—glided around the track, bringing the display to life. A person not taking delight in such a presentation would certainly be labeled a scrooge.

  Earlier in the day, on his way to the haberdashery to visit Merryweather, Dalton watched a conversation taking place across the street in front of the bank between Courtney and the newcomer, Wil Lemon. At her look of agitation, he’d wanted to step in, but thought better of the intrusion. Later he’d seen him hanging out in the alley between the laundry and the telegraph office looking mighty bored. Now why would a newcomer have time to kill?

  Lemon! That man gives me a sour stomach.

  Roaring laughter came from the back of the saloon where Wil Lemon, Dwight Hoskins, and three other men were deep at cards. They’d been playing since morning, after the man’s conversation with Courtney.

  “Pssssst.”

  Dalton turned.

  Adaline stood behind him just outside the doorway, bundled from head to toe.

  Her blue eyes smiled a welcome. He hadn’t seen her since last Wednesday, when the altercation at the Red Rooster had occurred. His unruly heart skipped a beat or two. Had she missed him? She sure had a way of brightening his day.

  “Adaline.” He set his coffee cup on a nearby table and stepped out onto the boardwalk and away from the door. “This is a pleasant surprise. Is there something I can do for you? Is there something you need?”

  Her smile faded. “No, not really. Was just wondering if you’d learned anything more about Wil and when he might leave town. My sister won’t rest easy until he’s gone. I’ve barely seen her. She stays close to the ranch.”

  Not entirely. He’d not upset Adaline and tell her about the conversation between Wil and her sister this morning. No laws had been broken. “I’ve been watching him.”

  Adaline wrinkled her nose. “Any word from Sheriff Preston and Susanna? When will they return?”

  “I received a message by courier. They’re having such a good time they’re staying on a while longer, since the town’s quiet and we don’t have any major happenings—except for Wil. I encouraged them to stay as long as they liked.”

  Her eyes sparkled and a small smile appeared on her lips. “And the longer Sheriff Preston stays away, the longer you have a paying job? Could work security have anything to do with your enthusiasm?”

  “I never doubted you for a clever girl, Adaline. If Albert wants to stay away a year, then I’ll be the first one to embolden him to do so. I won’t deny I’m enjoying being deputy more than I can say.”

  She laughed. “Dalton, you’re such a schemer.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows making her eyes dance even more.

  “But on a serious matter, poor Violet hasn’t been the same since she kicked Beth out. She stays in her room almost all day, and when she appears, she looks so sad. So beaten. I wish I could do something to cheer her up.” Adaline looked down the street toward the mercantile. “Do you think Beth might apologize? I think hearing she’s sorry for her cruel remarks would be a start, and maybe enough to do the trick.”

  “I have no idea about Beth.”

  A blush crept up Adaline’s face. “Have you seen her in the store or about town? Where’s she staying? I haven’t heard.”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw, realizing he’d forgotten to shave. By now, his normally thick whiskers must look plenty unkempt—or maybe dashing, by the way she was smiling at him. He’d delayed the wet, cold chore until the sheriff’s office warmed—and then promptly failed to recall. “Maude came down with Albert’s mail and told me Beth’s staying in the small room in the back of the mercantile.” He shrugged. “Hey, I heard about Jake’s good fortune. The reward will set him up. I’m glad for him and Daisy.”

  “They’re in shock. Mr. Ford wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Her gaze roamed his face. “How’s the judging going? Have you been around to view the businesses to consider each one? I’d love to judge. I’d take a notebook and jot down my reactions to each. Makes recalling easier.”

  A wagon rolled by, followed by several riders. The town was alive.

  “I have. But deciding between them might not be as easy as you think. Each display is so different, carefully constructed with so much thought, devotion, and hard work. I hate to dash anyone’s hopes. Especially at Christmas.”

  “Dalton, everyone goes into the competition knowing the rules. Only one winner can be declared. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  A gust of wind pushed her long skirt up against his legs, and he blushed. He shouldn’t keep her so long in the cold. Huddled into her coat, she awaited his reply, her smile never dimming.

  “Easy for you to say. Can I mention here, Frank, out of the blue, invited me to supper?”

  She tented one brow. “So? He’s just being nice to the new deputy.”

  “Maude left a basket of cookies on my desk. Her note only mentioned me and not Thom, although the three dozen could have fed half an army. I was embarrassed when he came in.”

  Her other brow joined the first.

  “Mr. Hatfield offered me free train fare—if I was inclined to take a trip, and…” He pulled a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket and shook them at her. “Mrs. Harrell, at the haberdashery, said these were last year’s style and wanted me to have them for free. Last year’s style? Who cares about that? They’re gloves! I tried to p
ay, but she became insulted. They’re all bribing me, Adaline, so I’ll proclaim their display this year’s winner. Such tactics won’t work. I can’t be bought.” He hitched his head back at the saloon. “Hunter and Kendall have said everything they stock is on the house. No brand is too good for Deputy Dalton. I’ve only ever taken coffee...”

  Adaline had the audacity to laugh. Her eyes, sparkling with merriment, made him smile and his indignation evaporated into thin air. Her little red nose almost looked painful as she shivered like a leaf in the wind. “You find this funny?”

  “I do. Nobody in this town thinks you can be bought, Dalton. There’s not a more upstanding man around. The bank in Denver trusted you with a million dollars! That’s a testament in itself. Just have fun with the competition. Choose the display that means something to you. One that touches your heart.”

  That was good advice. Her virtuous opinion warmed him from the inside out. She gazed at him in wonder. A progression of emotions crossed her eyes. He jerked his gaze and then realized someone inside the saloon had just hollered, and then a melee of voices erupted. He turned in time to see Wil Lemon and Dwight Hoskins tumble out the door and crash into the hitching rail, busting the length in two.

  Horses galloped off.

  The two men landed in the snowy mud with a thud.

  Dwight scrambled to his feet just as Wil threw another punch. Both men were bleeding from the nose and other parts of their battered faces.

  “Cheat!” Dwight shouted. “That last hand was mine!”

  The two rolled this way and that, their fists flying, the sound of flesh striking flesh ringing the air. The men somersaulted together beneath two horses tied at the other hitching rail. One gelding pulled back, snapped his reins, and bucked all the way down the street. The other danced, his eye rolled in fear, trying to avoid the fighting men under his hooves. An excited cry from the children admiring the Christmas tree brought their mothers from the haberdashery at a run.

  Hunter stepped out of the saloon to watch the show. Kendall followed, a whiskey bottle still clenched in his hand. Seemed as long as the Bright Nugget was safe, they had no problem letting the men fight.

  Dalton stepped forward. “One more second and I’m gonna smack your heads together like quarry balls that need cracking!” he shouted.

  Neither paid a lick of attention to his command which embarrassed him in front of Adaline. They continued to bash each other’s brains while rolling through a fresh pile of horse manure. Dalton grabbed Dwight by the back of his shirt, hauled him up, and punched him in the face.

  Hoskins reeled several times on one boot heel, looking like an ugly ballerina, and landed facedown.

  Adaline shouted a warning.

  Dalton turned to find Wil advancing. Dalton pulled his gun, stopping Wil in his tracks. “Let’s go, hothead,” Dalton barked. “Time in a cell will cool you off. You and Hoskins need to learn a little respect for the law.”

  Hunter stepped into the street and pulled Dwight to his feet.

  “Show’s over, folks,” Dalton called to the gawkers, feeling like he’d finally cut his teeth on the new job. “Go back inside and get warm. Nothin’ more’s gonna happen out here today.”

  Taking a second, he glanced around to find Adaline watching from the boardwalk, her hands gripped on the boardwalk railing. He felt taller noticing the semblance of pride shining in her eyes. She exhaled and a winning smile appeared on her sweet lips. She was an exceptional woman, he admitted for the umpteenth time. Smart, funny, beautiful. She’d make some man a remarkable wife someday. Too bad that man wouldn’t be him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Later that day, Adaline, well-bundled against the cold, had just finished her two-hour shift at the haberdashery and walked brusquely toward the Red Rooster, thoughts of the warm fireplace swirling in her head. The street was deserted. Darkness had fallen, and the air was crisp. Delicate layers of ice covered any standing water in the road. Warm, golden light in the windows looked inviting.

  A cup of hot cocoa sounded so good.

  She contemplated crossing the street. Was Dalton still at the sheriff’s office with Wil and Dwight? She’d like to stop in but feared he’d feel obliged to walk her home if she did. Instead, she pulled her coat more firmly around her shoulders and continued onward. The walk home didn’t frighten her at all.

  Movement caught her eye. Mr. Ling hurried her way. She thought the laundry man looked distressed but couldn’t tell for sure in the darkness. As he approached, his eyes opened wide.

  “Miss Costner!” The name practically tumbled from his mouth in a puff of frosty air. “Please, help. Baby coming.”

  Help? Mrs. Ling? What can I do? “I’ll be happy to fetch Dr. Thorn for you, Mr. Ling. His office is right there.” She glanced back. She’d just passed the small wooden building, but his window had been dark. Was the doctor out on a call?

  “Bao wants no doctor.”

  The Lings were very private people. She understood how Mrs. Ling, Bao, might not want a man attending her. Most likely, she’d want a woman to assist with the birth. Adaline glanced at the buildings. Susanna came to mind, but she was in New Meringue. There was Hannah, but Adaline had heard she’d gone home early this evening, feeling poorly. Maude might be available, but Beth, who now lived at the mercantile, would surely want to come along. Putting up with her off-handed comments would be torture. Mrs. Harrell might be available, but she was squeamish about everything. Just the other day, a large spider on the Christmas tree display caused her to trip backward and fall to the floor with a thump.

  Mr. Ling touched her arm. “Please, you help?”

  Him touching her was unprecedented. “Yes, if I can, Mr. Ling. But I’ve never even seen a birth before. I won’t know what to do.”

  “You can get Mrs. Hollyhock? She know Bao. She is a friend.”

  Of course! I should have thought of Violet first thing. “Right away.” I hope she’ll come. I haven’t heard more than two words out of her since the argument with Beth.

  Golden light spilled from the sheriff’s office window like a beacon of hope. “Better yet, I’ll send Dalton for Mrs. Hollyhock. He’ll be much faster, and I’ll come to your home to wait for Violet to arrive. I’ll run to the sheriff’s office right now.”

  Relief flashed across Mr. Ling’s face. He gave a slight nod, turned on his heel, and was gone.

  Adaline lifted her dress, dashed across the road, past the saloon, and clamored into the sheriff’s office. At her noisy entrance, Ivan, stretched out before the wood-burning stove, lifted his head and blinked several times.

  Behind the desk, Dalton bolted to his feet. “Adaline? What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to go to the Red Rooster and fetch Violet. Mrs. Ling is having her baby!”

  Wil and Dwight watched from their separate cells along the wall.

  “Mrs. Ling is having her baby,” she repeated when he just looked at her. “I’ll sit with her until Violet arrives. Can you go?”

  Dalton strode to the rack for his hat and coat. “What about Dr. Thorn?” He shouldered into the thick, sheepskin-lined garment. “Wouldn’t he be better? He’s right here in town.”

  “She doesn’t want him—since he’s a man and she’s very shy. She and Violet are friends.”

  “Those kind of people don’t need help birthing,” Wil called in the pause of conversation. He still looked half-drunk, and his face was dirt-stained and bruised. “They’re like rabbits, multiplying every time you look away.”

  Dalton shot him a warning glance. “Shut your mouth!”

  Wil laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Didn’t mean no disrespect. How are you, Adaline? We haven’t spoken since I arrived.”

  How she hated the vile man. Her stomached tightened just being in the same room. Once Courtney took up with him, she’d become secretive and combative. She’d shut out Adaline. “Don’t talk to me. And leave Courtney alone!”

  Scowling, Dal
ton strode to the jail bars. “You just earned yourself another day behind bars. Dwight’ll be out in the morning—but you won’t.” He returned to her side and pushed on his Stetson, an angry scowl marking his face.

  “Still on your pedestal, Adaline?” Wil said, barely above a whisper.

  Dalton jabbed a finger toward the jail cells. “Keep talking and you’ll spend Christmas here with me.” He made a sweeping look around the room. “Thom will be here shortly, so don’t get any wild ideas.”

  Dwight shook his head in compliance.

  But Wil just stared back with a black, soulless gaze.

  Dalton ushered Adaline onto the boardwalk.

  “Please be careful around Wil. He’s not like most men. He’d just as soon kill a man as walk away. He frightens me.”

  A crooked smile appeared on Dalton’s lips. “Worried about me, Miss Costner? No need. I’ve faced much more dangerous men than Wil Lemon. He’s nothing but a gnat under my thumb.”

  “A wily, malevolent, dangerous gnat, Dalton.” She straightened her shoulders and nodded. “You do as I say.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Now, I’m off. I’ll be back with Violet as quick as I can. I’ll get the buggy from the livery. Hitching up won’t take any time at all, and I’ll get Violet back here quickly.”

  Adaline gripped his arm, suddenly very thankful she wasn’t alone in this undertaking. “Thank you, Dalton. Violet is extremely fond of you. If anyone can get her to come, it’s you. She’s in a dark place. I feel so badly for her.”

  He nodded.

  Then he surprised Adaline by reaching out to touch her cheek. The gesture was quick and seemed to startle him as well.

  “Put away your worries. Violet will be at my side when I arrive. Now, run back to the laundry house and try to calm poor Mr. Ling. Those two are like peas in a pod. One without the other is unthinkable.”

  She gasped. “I’m not thinking anything like…”

  He took her shoulders. “Neither am I. Just go, and I’ll bring Violet as fast as I can.”