Chapter Forty-Two
Bedraggled after almost six hours of laundry, Courtney took her coat from the rack and slid her wobbly arms into the sleeves. The visitor had been Jake, checking on her and making sure Wil hadn’t tried anything funny. She’d told him the truth. She hadn’t seen Wil and had no plans to do so. What she hadn’t said was she was sure he’d be seeing her, and sooner than later. A moment later Marlene arrived to relieve her.
“You look exhausted,” Marlene said, taking in Courtney’s disheveled appearance. “Remember, Tyler’s in town with the wagon and plans to take you back to the ranch when he’s finished. He said he’d meet you at the Silky Hen. Go eat a hearty meal. You’ve done enough work for five people.”
“If I sit for more than one minute, I’ll fall asleep,” Courtney replied. “I don’t remember a thing past white tablecloths, broadcloth work shirts, and filthy Levi jeans. Sitting will feel so good.” Thoughts of a comfortable chair at the restaurant danced before her eyes.
With an understanding smile, Marlene laid an affectionate arm across her shoulders. “You’re doing a fine job. Jessie, myself, and everyone are so thankful you’ve taken up the slack here at the Lings’. With Violet sick, we’re short Jessie and Adaline. Poor thing, doesn’t look like she has many more days on this earth. She was already stick-thin, and with only eating a drop or two of soup now and then... Jessie is beside herself.”
Courtney considered her statement with sadness. “I’m so sorry to hear that. She’s the heart of Logan Meadows. I’ll miss her scratchy old voice—and so much more.” She dashed away a tear. “I heard from a customer the doctor is on the mend and making a rapid recovery, as well as Hannah and the fella from New Meringue. I guess Violet is just too old and frail.”
Marlene nodded, her eyes suddenly watery, too. “More than that, she’s lost the will to live. Seems like that’s more of the problem than anything else. She’s starving herself.”
Mr. Ling came from the front of the building with another sack of soiled laundry.
Lan, half his size, was at his heels, her small arms full as well as she trotted behind him.
When he saw Marlene, he gave a polite nod but continued on. Dark circles shadowed beneath his eyes, but he had a smile for the women.
Marlene nodded back. “He’s a good man,” she whispered. “Dedicated to his work and his family. Since I came to Logan Meadows, he and Mrs. Ling have treated me very well. You’d think me being a saloon girl in my past life, where my looks mattered, I’d dislike working in a laundry house, but I don’t. That’s because washing clothes is honest work. I’m able to hold my head high, not hide away in the shadows. I fall into bed tired. And I actually sleep through the night with a good conscience. When I gaze at the clean, ironed, and folded garments ready to be delivered, I can see the fruits of my labor. Makes me feel content. I’ll never go back to drinking and selling myself. That’s a horrible life, one I wouldn’t wish on any girl.”
Why on earth was Marlene telling her this? Had Jake’s mother somehow found out about her past? Had Jake shared her secret? Courtney realized the fear of discovery weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her mouth went dry.
“Go on now, you’re dead on your feet. Tyler will be along soon enough to pick you up. He knows where to find you.”
She must face Tyler as well? This day couldn’t get any worse.
Courtney nodded and proceeded to weave through the small building, skirting the hot kettles, irons, and other contraptions. She hadn’t spoken with Tyler since their heated exchange at the Silky Hen three days ago. He wasn’t aware she’d returned the money or that Chase had witnessed the action. Since then, she’d been spending most of her waking hours at the Lings’, conveniently avoiding him all together.
Outside, she drew in a deep breath of frosty air, letting the change in temperature ground her senses. The cold air revived her heated skin. Two cowboys rode by, both dipping their chins in respect. She hastily crossed the street, taking in the view of the Christmas tree. Christmas would be here in the blink of an eye. The lights in shop windows glimmered and winked in the falling snow.
Hurrying through the hotel lobby, she entered the Silky Hen from the side door and took in the tables.
Frank, the only occupant at the time, looked up from his plate and smiled.
She smiled back, and then took a table in the corner, too tired to visit. After removing her coat and laying the garment across the back of her chair, she sank down.
Roberta, a white apron over her long blue dress, came through the swinging kitchen door and headed to her table. “Courtney, dear, you look exhausted. What can I get for you? I hope you’re not working so hard at the Lings’ you become ill, too. Be careful.”
Everyone in this town knew everyone else’s business. “Thank you, Mrs. Brown. I will.”
“Good. Now what can I bring you?”
“A cup of hot cocoa, please.” She glanced at the chalkboard where the specials were written. “And a plate of chicken and potatoes.”
Roberta nodded and hurried away.
Frank stood, laid his napkin beside his plate, and came her way. “We’ve all heard what you and the other women are doing for Mr. and Mrs. Ling. I think your efforts are very commendable. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lloyd. I’ll do that.”
“Don’t be caught outside unawares. There’s a storm brewing.”
Courtney watched Mr. Lloyd gather his hat and coat and walk out the door.
Roberta brought her a large mug of hot cocoa.
The sweet beverage lifted her flagging spirits. Perhaps everything would somehow work out after all. They said miracles happened when you least expected them. Well, she could do for one right now.
When the café door opened, she expected to see Tyler. Instead, Wil walked in looking cold and hungry.
When he saw her alone in the empty room, he plastered an ugly smile on his lips. Without invitation, he proceeded to her table and pulled out a chair. He sat with a plop, his fists landing on the tabletop, making everything rattle and her cocoa spill over the rim.
“Time’s past. I don’t want the money no longer. I’ll see you at the Christmas Eve party. I’m making my announcement then and there for the whole town to hear.” His smile went from ear to ear. “No woman bests me and gets away with it! You’re gonna curse the day we met.”
She was too tired to fight. “I already do, Wil, and have for some time.”
Roberta came out of the kitchen with Courtney’s plate of chicken at the same time Tyler came through the café door. The unbuttoned sheepskin-lined coat Tyler often wore revealed a brown wool vest and brown bandanna around his neck. His leather chaps, protecting his denims, were wet and his Stetson dangled in his fingertips. No doubt he’d been working hard only minutes before. Looking like a thunderhead ready to burst, he stormed across the room, flipped his hat to a nearby tabletop without missing a beat, and grabbed Wil by his shoulder, yanking him from the chair.
The two men stood eye to eye.
“Stay away from Miss Costner!”
Wil sneered. “If you knew her true character, you might think different. But I’ll save the telling until Christmas Eve. A little present for you all.”
Courtney sucked in a breath. Facing Tyler’s wrath, Wil wouldn’t wait until the Christmas Eve party to spill the juicy truth he’d been itching to tell. Thankfully, the café was empty but for Roberta still standing at the kitchen door holding Courtney’s plate of chicken.
“Blackmail doesn’t sit well with me, Lemon, and especially not when your target is a young woman. I’m sick of your ugly face. Get out of town now, this minute. If not, I won’t be responsible when I kill you. You hear me? This warning is the only one you’ll get. I mean what I say.”
“You’re a dandy,” Wil chortled. “I’m not afraid of you!”
Faster and more deadly than a rattlesnake, Tyler smashed Wil in t
he mouth.
Wil reeled across the room. His back hit a table, ending his momentum. Four clean coffee cups and a handful of utensils clattered to the floor. By the time Tyler stalked over, Wil was on his feet and had snatched a steak knife from the table. He slashed out.
The memory of the fight back in Newport, when Wil had attacked Jake with a knife, flashed in Courtney’s mind. Already on her feet, she dashed to the wall for a cane she’d seen when she’d come in, forgotten by someone. Hoisting the weapon, she swung at Wil’s head, striking him with a loud crack.
The knife sailed out of his hand and clattered under a chair across the room.
He whirled on her with flared nostrils. Hatred glittered in his eyes.
Tyler launched forward, wrapping Wil in his arms. The two fell with a thud.
Roberta grasped Courtney’s arm. “Get out of here,” she screamed. “Before you’re hurt.”
Courtney pulled away. “I can’t leave Tyler. Please, go get help!”
Without being asked twice, Roberta dashed out the door.
The men rolled and punched in a tangle of rage.
Courtney shouted for them to stop, but they fought on like wild bulls. More tables were hit and upended.
With a burst of power, Tyler pummeled Wil’s stomach and then his face.
Wil went limp on the floor.
Courtney gripped Tyler by the arm and tugged him out the door, determined to get the two men apart before they killed each other. Intermittent sleet and wind prickled her face. Tyler was bleeding from the corner of his left eyebrow and his bottom lip. His right knuckles were skinned. “Please get in the wagon,” she begged, as she pushed him to climb up onto the passenger’s seat. His feet stayed anchored to the ground. Any second, Wil might burst out the door.
Moving his jaw back and forth, he grimaced. “I’m not running from a fight. Wil Lemon doesn’t scare me.”
“Don’t be stubborn!” she barked back. “Roberta went for Dalton. He’ll jail Wil again for fighting. And you, too, just like he did Dwight. I don’t want your misfortune on my head. Maybe Dalton’ll cool down if you’re nowhere to be found. Please, Tyler, let’s go. Wil brings havoc wherever he goes. I hate him. I hate him with all my heart!” And I don’t want you locked up right next to him, knowing what he’d love to share.
She realized Tyler hadn’t responded and stood there, staring down into her face. The truth was out. Wil had done what he’d set out to do. Maybe not in so many words, but he didn’t have to. He confirmed what Tyler had only before suspected.
Feeling bold, she glanced up into his bloodied face, resisting the urge to press her hand to his battered face in comfort.
His gaze locked on hers.
She couldn’t tell what he thought—but she could imagine plenty. “I’m glad you finally know the truth,” she said for his ears only. “Now I needn’t pretend anymore.”
He glanced past her shoulder at the wagon side.
She shook his arm, fearful Wil would regain consciousness and come out the door looking for more. “Let’s go! The storm is building. We need to get back out to the ranch while we still can. Frank Lloyd said as much two minutes before you came into the café.”
“Your food?”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” She pushed his arm again.
This time, he climbed up but scooted into the driver’s seat where she’d intended to be. He bent to the side and extended a hand.
Grasping her skirt with one hand and Tyler’s hand with her other, she scrambled up with renewed energy. As the wagon crossed the bridge and turned up the road leading to the ranch, a blast of wind passed through her clothes chilling her skin. In their quick flight she’d left her coat in the café. She wrapped her arms around herself and stayed the impulse to shiver.
Tyler looked over and began to shrug out of his garment.
“Don’t.”
“Take it,” he grumbled. “And hand me the blanket covering the supplies, if you would.”
So formal. Of course, she didn’t expect their friendship to remain the same. He knew about her tattered reputation. He’d judged her and found her lacking. That was easy enough to believe from the lack of attention he’d given her the last few days. No other outcome was possible.
Strands of her hair, loose from the work at Lings’, whipped around her face as she threaded her arms into his coat. Heady warmth billowed from inside, and her heart beat faster. The scent—windy, wild, unpredictable. Tyler Weston was a good man. The way he spoke of his father and family was endearing. He did everything by the book. Honest. Noble at all times. Not a chance in heck existed he’d ever understand the mistakes she’d made in her past. Once she had the coat buttoned, she turned on the wobbly buckboard seat and reached into the back, grasping the blanket covering the sacks of grain and other supplies. She scooted closer and tucked the protection around Tyler’s shoulders without saying a word and then placed the ends into his free hand. “Driving will be tricky.”
“I can manage.”
He wasn’t much on talking, at least not now. What a change from the other time he had met her in the Silky Hen. They’d already turned the corner out of town and were passing Sheriff Preston’s small yellow house on one side and Brenna and Gregory Hutton’s house on the other.
The teacher was out on his front porch with a coffee cup in his hand. When he saw them, he waved and smiled broadly.
He expected her back at school when the Christmas break was over. Courtney forced herself to smile and waved back.
“Hurry on home, you two!” Mr. Hutton called cheerily. “Snow’s in the air. Don’t get caught! Tell Sarah to keep practicing her spelling words.”
“I will, Mr. Hutton. We read every night.”
He nodded. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, Courtney. The children respond to you. I appreciate the help.”
Mr. Hutton acted as if all was right with the world. If he only knew. Courtney had to turn halfway around and squint through the sleet to still see him. She waved. “Good day!” Thank heavens he hadn’t noticed Tyler’s bloodied face. The fewer people who knew of the incident, the better.
Once they were past the teacher’s house, Tyler looked over, the once-bloody spots on his face darkening from the cold. “Will you tell me what happened? Or must I go on filling in the blanks myself?”
Chapter Forty-Three
Tyler didn’t know if he should ask such personal information or if he had the right, but damn, he felt the need to know. And somehow, he felt the telling would be good for Courtney. He still had a hard time believing she wasn’t the innocent child he’d thought her to be, but he’d had some time to ponder the last few days about her and the conversation about the stolen coins. He’d come to terms with the truth. In most cases, people weren’t what they seemed. So she had a past. Secrets. Same as each and every living soul in this town. Him included, he admitted. Did her mistakes change who she was now? Wil Lemon had forced her. Stolen her virginity. That was a sad fact no woman wanted to tell. Since he’d uttered the words, Courtney had all but turned to stone. “Courtney?”
“You said you already knew. You guessed. Why must I say more?”
She didn’t have to. But he hoped she would. Anything she said could help him understand a little better.
The road narrowed and went through a stand of swaying trees. They weren’t so far from the ranch to be in danger, but with only this blanket, he was freezing and knew Courtney must feel the same. Sleet had changed to snow. He’d take the blowing snow over being blasted in the face by icy slush. His lip throbbed painfully, but the cut above his eye had gone numb. “You don’t have to share, if you don’t want. I just thought you’d like to get whatever you’re hiding off your chest. There’s no shame. You know you can press charges against him, don’t you? What he did is a crime. People won’t allow his kind of behavior—now or ever.” He watched her closely as he spoke.
The team moved like molasses in the cold.
&nb
sp; She turned away and gazed off the side of the road.
She was taking this hard, although Wil’s attack must have happened long ago, when they were in Newport. Did time help this kind of assault? Soften them, as if they’d never happened? He didn’t think so. Did Jake or Adaline know, so they could be a help to her? So many unanswered questions. “Courtney, please, say something. I want to help. You can’t do this alone.”
She turned back, pain clouding her eyes.
He pulled the team to a halt and scooted closer. The wind had eased, allowing the snowflakes to float slowly to the earth. She was rigid and cold. He lifted the blanket and wrapped the warmth around them both. “Tell me, Courtney. Don’t be afraid. I won’t think less of you. Wil overpowered you. I can tell you one thing, that skunk will pay dearly for hurting you—and then having the gall to follow you here. I promise you that.”
“No, don’t promise me anything,” she whispered. “It wasn’t like that...”
The quietly spoken words mingled with the gently falling snowflakes. White grew thicker along the horses’ manes and backs. They really shouldn’t dawdle. Getting back to the ranch should be a priority. He leaned forward, trying to see her face. In a moment of clarity, he realized she was more to him than just a friend. Just a girl he wanted to help. He’d protect her against any monster—Wil Lemon—with all his might. “What do you mean?”
“Wil didn’t force me. I’m truly a fallen woman, Tyler. Someone you don’t want to associate with or have in your life. Now that you know, please get the horses moving. Once I leave this wagon, you’ll never have to deal with me again.” A waver of sadness colored her voice.
Stunned, he stared straight ahead.
“I do want to tell you, though,” she went on, “I returned the coins to their rightful spot the night of our last conversation, so you don’t have to worry about my thievery any longer. Mr. Logan caught me. He knows only about the coins, nothing else.” She breathed out deeply and then shivered.
Winter Winds of Wyoming Page 21