A Fire in the Blood (38 page)

      
Cammie put down the hat and tapped one lacquered nail against her cheek. The Frenchwoman must be Jacobson's former housekeeper, Germaine Channault. And arsenic was used by cattlemen to kill wolves. Could she be mixed up with someone in the Association who had poisoned Jess's water?

      
Why order more poison from an outside source when Jess said the Association kept a big supply on hand? To throw suspicion off the guilty member? Strolling from Union Mercantile out onto Ferguson Street, she decided to check around. Next week was the big Association gala that kicked off fall roundup. Perhaps she might have some very useful information for Jess and Lissa when they arrived in town.

* * * *

      
"We have to go, Jess. If we don't, we'll be cut out of fall roundup. We'll lose a fortune in beef sales," Lissa argued. "The Association would love nothing better than to see us give in this way."

      
Jess watched her deftly peel potatoes and plop them into a pot of water. He sat at the kitchen table, cleaning his rifle. "I'll ride into town and talk to Mathis about letting our reps ride to Diamond E and Empire Land and Cattle Company roundups."

      
"Without me," she said flatly. "I'm not made of china, Jess. I won't break if someone snubs me." She wiped her hands on her apron. "I'd love to go to the dance. The real business of roundup takes place around the punch bowl."

      
He studied the stubborn tilt of her chin. At times she looked disturbingly like her father. "What you really want is to face everyone down by dragging me to their fancy party. It'll just cause trouble, Lissa."

      
"Since when are you so afraid of trouble?" She walked over and put her arms around his neck, leaning forward to nuzzle his ear. "Admit it, wouldn't you like to see Lemuel Mathis's face when we show up?"

      
"This isn't a game, Lissa." He stood up and snapped the rifle's lever action closed.

      
"It's politics, and that is a game—a deadly serious one. Without me, you won't have an entree to their inner circle. The women may be snobbish, but the men will be too embarrassed not to talk to me. I can wheedle Cy and Jamie into letting our reps on the range."

      
Sighing, he capitulated. "Just be prepared for some ugly scenes."

      
In the week since the storm, they had arrived at an uneasy truce. They slept together in the big master suite each night after he sat and watched her feed and change their son. She cooked his favorite foods, and he played with Johnny while she made dinner. Clare went about her chores quietly, giving no indication of how she felt about the new relationship between her employers.

      
Moss had quickly noted the change yesterday when he came up to the house to go over the tallies with Jess in the office. Lissa had come in with a tray of homemade apple pie and coffee and bustled around, serving the men as they worked. She was the picture of a dutiful young bride. His shrewd gaze had been hard and unreadable, but he thanked her for the pie and returned to business as soon as he consumed it. He told none of the hands that their new boss was there to stay. But was he?

      
Jess was not at all certain. Sitting behind Marcus Jacobson's big desk, he felt like an intruder. He and

Lissa spent the days being a happy family with little Johnny. Their nights were wildly passionate, obsessive—as if they could not get their fill of each other. Or as if they realized that this idyll could not last. But while she did not acknowledge that, Jess did. He had given his heart and committed his life to Lissa and Johnny. He prayed it would be enough, but feared it would not.

      
Now after only a few days, they would have to face the outside world. Jess would not mind for himself. He had become hardened since childhood, a childhood he did not want his son to face. And above all, he did not want Lissa hurt any more than she already had been. But she was right about the necessity of going to Cheyenne to make arrangements with Association members for the roundup.

      
"If only she wasn't so set on this damn dance," he muttered.

They took the best spring wagon to Cheyenne the next day with Clare riding in the back with their luggage while Lissa perched on the high seat beside Jess, holding little Johnny. As soon as they reached the city, Lissa felt the stares. A few men touched the brim of their hats, then looked quickly away. Women swished by, moving their skirts aside as if they would be contaminated by close proximity. A few of the bolder men glared with hard, hostile eyes. All observed the dark child sitting in her lap with various degrees of dislike.

      
"I told you it'd be like this," Jess said as he watched her clutch Johnny protectively.

      
Lissa raised her chin. "I don't care. They're nothing but a pack of ignorant jackasses."

      
As they rounded the corner of 15th Street onto Ferguson and stopped in front of the Metropolitan Hotel, Jess said grimly, "It's only going to get worse." He climbed down from the wagon.

      
"Then let's give them something to really talk about." Lissa leaned over and gave Jess a kiss on the lips as he lifted her from the wagon seat. When she picked up her skirt and stepped onto the wooden sidewalk, her eyes collided with the cold, twisted face of Yancy Brewster.

      
Lissa felt Jess stiffen beside her, but he said nothing, just stood taut and still, with his hand resting lightly on his Colt. Brewster stared insolently at her, then at the baby, through bloodshot eyes. His face was unshaven and his skin had an unhealthy pallor beneath his wind-blasted complexion. He looked as if he had slept in his dirty, wrinkled clothes or been up gambling and drinking all night. After a tense moment, he contemptuously spat on the sidewalk and shambled away.

      
"Cy fired him several months ago—something about heavy gambling debts and drinking on the job. Dellia must have been devastated when Cy broke the engagement. She had her hopes pinned on marrying him." Lissa shivered in revulsion, recalling when he had once courted her.

      
"Dellia Evers is better off dying a spinster than marrying him," Jess replied. Once he was certain Brewster had gone, he helped Clare from the wagon and escorted the two women into the hotel.

      
Noah was still manning the front desk. He paled when he saw Jess with Lissa and the baby.

      
"Wait here," Jess commanded, motioning for the women to be seated in two overstuffed chairs beside a huge potted palm.

      
"Afternoon, Noah. I need a couple of rooms. I think the old Jacobson suite would do for Mrs. Robbins and me. We'll need an adjacent room for the maid and our son." His tone of voice was low and silky, but his cold eyes pierced the sweating clerk like silver daggers.

      
"We're full up," Noah replied, snapping his mouth shut like an irritated turtle.

      
Jess reached across the desk and grabbed the registry. “Odd. Did all those guests forget to sign their names?" he asked as his eyes swept down the page. He held out his hand for the pen the clerk clutched in a white-knuckled death grip.

      
"You'll get me fired."

      
Jess waited a moment until the red-faced clerk handed him the pen in defeat. Robbins signed the register and shoved it back, then waited for the key. Noah fished it out and handed it over.

      
"There's a spring wagon out front with our luggage. See to it. Then send up hot bathwater for the ladies . .. plenty of it," Jess added with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

      
Noah rang for the bellman, silently huffing in outrage as the gunman and his womenfolk walked up the stairs.

      
Once she had settled Clare and Johnny in their room and the luggage had been brought up, Lissa crossed into the bathroom of their suite. "I remember the first time I saw you here." Her eyes danced as she approached him. "All of you."

      
His face broke into an unwilling smile in spite of his tension. "You didn't stick around to see quite all of me that time. Seems I remember your turning tail and running off when I stepped out of that tub."

      
She eyed the big white porcelain claw-foot tub. "I promise not to run off this time. Let's take a bath together." She appraised the tub critically. "We'd fit."

      
He raised one eyebrow. "We'll give old Noah a heart attack if we soak his fancy floorboards."

      
"I dare you."

      
He walked over to her with a crooked smile on his face and raised one of her hands to his lips. "You dare too much, I'm afraid." He kissed her palm. She caressed his cheek softly and snuggled against him.

      
A knock sounded on the door. "That's probably the bathwater. Enjoy your soak. I have some business to attend to; then I'll go to Reamy's for a bath and shave."

      
"What business?" she asked crossly.

      
"I have to check the telegraph office and some other things. I told you coming along wasn't a good idea." He opened the door and admitted Chris, the brawny bellman, carrying two enormous buckets of steaming water.

      
While Chris was filling the bathtub, Lissa followed Jess into the suite's parlor. "Will you be back to take me to dinner tonight or should I order a meal sent up?"

      
"Be ready around seven," he said as he picked up the small satchel containing his clothes.

      
A secret smile hovered around the corners of her mouth. "Now who's turning tail and running?"

      
He merely grunted and walked out the door. As soon as he was gone, Lissa knocked on Clare's door. "Do you have it ready?" she asked eagerly.

      
The little maid scurried over to the large leather traveling case the bellman had set beside her bed. "It'll need pressing, Missus. I had to fold it up to hide it in here." She pulled out a man's beautifully cut dress suit of dark charcoal wool.

      
"Oh, Clare, you've done an outstanding job!" Lissa exclaimed as she examined the suit, which had been completed the previous evening. "I'll go see about having it pressed."

      
Perhaps it was just as well that Jess had left for the afternoon, Lissa thought as she headed down the back stairs carrying the suit. She wanted to avoid the hateful Noah and find Chris's mother, Iris, who was in charge of housekeeping for the big hotel. No one was as meticulous at pressing as Iris Graves.

      
A few minutes later, Lissa was on her way back upstairs, having left the new suit with the housekeeper. She was just about to round the landing on the second floor when whispered voices stopped her—familiar voices.

      
"You've been drinking again, Yancy." Cridellia Evers's sharp voice was accusing.

      
"I only had a few. I been up all night, Dellia, waiting for you to get here. I won us enough cash money to afford that wedding in Laramie. See."

      
Lissa peeked around the corner at the pair. Brewster was flashing two railroad tickets in front of Dellia's pale face. Should she interfere? Make her presence known? Before she could decide, Dellia threw herself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

      
"Oh, Yancy, my darling! I knew you'd come for me. We can get married tonight in Laramie and be back here in time for the big dance tomorrow night. I'll be Mrs. Yancy Brewster."

      
"Shh. Not too loud. We gotta be quiet. You know how your pa feels about me."

      
Dellia looked into his haggard face. "I know he's been hard on you, dear one, but once we're married, everything will be just fine." She hesitated, sniffing delicately. "Do—do you have any clean clothes? I mean, to wear on the train?"

      
"No time for gussying up now. Once we're married, I can use yer pa's credit to buy some new duds in Laramie—unless you got some extra money here in your room."

      
"I have a little." Her voice quavered uncertainly.

      
"Go get it. Then meet me at the station. The train pulls out in an hour. Here's your ticket."

      
He grabbed her for a brief, rough kiss, then turned and headed toward the stairs. Lissa picked up her skirts and dashed back downstairs, hiding beneath the open stairwell on the ground floor. Brewster stalked out the side door without seeing her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she began to climb the steps, trying to decide what to do.

      
Should she attempt to reason with Dellia? That appeared hopeless. The foolish girl had been smitten with Yancy since he had first come to work at Diamond E. His attempts to court Lissa had led to the final breaking of her friendship with Dellia. If she ever could have honestly called it friendship.

      
But Lissa could not sit by and let Dellia ruin her life, no matter how spiteful the girl had acted. Yancy was a drunk and a brute, and Lissa was positive he would abuse poor besotted Dellia once he married her. Cy Evers would be at the Cheyenne Club. She owed it to the old man to let him know of the elopement. She hurried the rest of the way to her suite to compose a note. Perhaps Cy could prevent their escape with no one in Cheyenne the wiser.

* * * *

      
"We'll take over five hundred head. Easy with the beeves spread out to reach clean water." His face was in the shadows of the railhead building.

      
"Poisoning the water near the ranch was a good idea, but the time for mere stealing is done now," Germaine replied over the hiss of a train stopping at the depot.