Hearts in Defiance (Romance in the Rockies Book 2) (26 page)

Thank God they’d brought it with them. So far, she had cut both
the underskirt and the peplum, pinned them into a more narrow style, and now
only needed to shape and pin the bustle. The sewing itself would go quickly.

Surprised by an unexpected burst of melancholy, she settled back
on her knees and studied the gown. For a moment, she caressed the white silk
and thought about her own wedding. A little white church. Ben standing at the
altar, his curly, dark hair grazing his collar, a huge grin lighting his face.
Sweet, patient, soft-spoken Ben who had given her such a beautiful child in
Gracie.

A lump formed in her throat like it always did when she thought
about the missed birthdays and empty Christmases. Seven years without them. It
felt like a hundred. Sometimes it felt like mere minutes.

“Miss Rebecca?”

Startled, she nearly swallowed the pins. Quickly, Rebecca wiped
her eyes and peered around the dress.

Ian nodded. “Aye, I thought I would find ye here.” He stepped into
the room as she rose to her feet, plucking pins from her mouth. Flapping his
Balmoral bonnet against his leg, he surveyed the dress. “Miss Naomi will be
such a picture of loveliness in that, I’d best be prepared to catch Charles
when his knees buckle.”

Rebecca laughed and came around to join him. “Yes, I was just
thinking it will be the prettiest dress I’ve ever made. You know, we’ve gotten
quite a lot of use out of it. It was my dress before it was Naomi’s.”

“Was it now?” He nodded again, but something about his demeanor
struck her as odd. Still flapping his hat, he also rocked slightly on his
heels. “I’m sure you were a lovely bride as well.” He reached up and scratched
his silvery beard on the left side … and then on the right. Rebecca wondered if
he could possibly be … nervous?

Oh, Lord, please let him be here to talk about something other
than Phineas Fog.
Trying to feign calm and
polite disinterest, she fiddled with the pins in her palm and waited for him to
speak.

Ian raised his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. “So, I’ve
come, Miss Rebecca, to see if ye would like to join me for dinner tonight?”

Rebecca wanted to keep her hope afloat, but she didn’t understand
the invitation. They ate dinner together almost every night. “You do remember
that the restaurant is closed? Frankly, we weren’t planning on cooking even for
ourselves. We thought we might simply have biscuits and beans.”

Uncertainty turned into resolve on Ian’s face and he stepped
closer to Rebecca, so close she almost stepped back. “Nay, I was inviting ye to
dinner at my cabin. Ye’ve never been and I would like to cook us dinner.”

She had to lock her jaw to keep her mouth from falling open. She
looked into his eyes, the blue of an infinite ocean, and flicked a glance over
the wrinkles that framed them. “I’d love to.”

“I’ll send Emilio for ye aboot six, if that’s fine?”

“Yes it is. Fine indeed.” An enormous grin threatened to break
loose but she wrestled it into a precariously-controlled smile.

“Well, then,” Ian bobbed his head. “Till six.”

Rebecca stood stock still and breathless till she heard the front
door close, before she dared believe.

Oh, Father, please let him say he loves me. Please let him tell me
I’m beautiful.

The prayer sounded ridiculous, but Rebecca wanted to know, one
last time, that she was still a desirable woman. That the wrinkles around her
own eyes were alluring, that her girlish charms had matured into elegance.

I see love so often in his eyes, Lord, but he never reaches out. I
am not getting any younger and the days are slipping by. Our life on this earth
is a quick breath and then we’re gone. Please encourage Ian to hear the ticking
of the clock.

~~~

Thirty-Eight

Holding her breath because the wedding dress was as loaded with
pins as a plump porcupine, Naomi carefully slid her arms through the
pearl-covered sleeves and turned toward the mirror.

She sucked in an awed breath. Rebecca’s skill with a needle was
nothing short of miraculous.

Holding the back together, her sister smiled expectantly. “Well
…?”

Naomi was stunned. She simply couldn’t believe the work Rebecca
had done in such a short amount of time. The biggest change, of course, was in
the skirt. Once a huge, voluminous wave of pearls and silk, the overskirt had
been cut and gathered in back, forming a beautiful and very stylish bustle. The
underskirt, simple silk with a row of pearl clam shells at the hem, had also
been cut, gathered, and pinned into a more slender style than the previous
fashion.

The dress was gorgeous and nearly a perfect fit. Naomi touched the
shoulder, remembering the tear. Rebecca had spent three days
after
the
wedding repairing the dress so Naomi wouldn’t have a reminder of the fight.

Embarrassed that her eyes had filled with tears, she blinked
quickly to keep them from spilling over. “Oh, I swanny, you’ve missed your
calling, Rebecca. You’ve outdone yourself.” Naomi imagined stepping out the
back door, slowly walking down the steps, past a small crowd of guests … to
Charles. She knew he would be dressed to the nines. And now, Naomi had a dress
to match. “Do you know what the best part is?” Rebecca raised her chin, waiting
for the answer. “Charles has no idea I brought my wedding dress with me. I bet
he thinks I’ll wear my blue muslin.”

“Well, honey, I would venture to guess we’ll be picking his eyes
up off the ground after he gets a gander at you in this.” Rebecca laughed and
then abruptly sighed. She fluffed the skirt once more and shook her head. “I
may be sewing on it right up till three o’clock Saturday, but I’ll make it.”
She dropped to her knees and double-checked the pins at the hem and the bustle.
“All right, go ahead and change out of it. I think I’ve got everything the way
I want it.” She pulled away and eyed the dress skeptically. “Well, maybe I
could tighten the bodice a bit.” She scrutinized Naomi’s midsection. Twisting
her lips in deep thought, she gave the overall image another gander in the
mirror. “Yes, I should definitely tighten that. You’ve lost weight in
Defiance.”

Naomi turned a tiny bit to each side for a better assessment.
“I’ve gained more heart.”

Working a pin into the bodice, Rebecca talked to their reflection.
“Ian asked me to dinner tonight … at his cabin.”

“Finally.” Naomi moved to clap her hands, but stopped herself
before a pin could prick her. “Oh, I am so glad.”

“Well, I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, but why else
would he want me to join him at his cabin if not to speak his mind?”

“At the pace he moves, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just wants to
show you a new Jules Verne book.” Pain pricked her ribs. “Ow!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I stick you?”

Naomi saw the unhappy dip in Rebecca’s brow and kicked herself for
the gloomy comment. “On the other hand, I’m sure it’s more likely he’ll declare
that he’s madly in love with you and we’ll have to have a double ceremony
Saturday.”

Before Rebecca could reply, gunshots, much closer than Tent Town,
thundered down on the hotel. The sisters froze, their fear reflected in each
other’s eyes. More gun fire erupted. Scores of shots ringing out in alarming,
chaotic sequences. Several seconds later an unnatural silence enveloped
Defiance.

“That was too close.”

Naomi nodded, wondering how close. “It sounded like it was on Main
Street, down near the mercantile or Iron Horse.”

“Get changed, I’ll go see what I can find out.” Rebecca hurried
out the door as Naomi started the frustrating and dangerous process of peeling
out of her fitted pin cushion. She changed as quickly as she could, while
trying not to feed the fear that nagged at her. Had Tom Hawthorn decided to get
revenge for his humiliation? Where was Charles? Was he all right?

Several minutes behind Rebecca, she raced down the stairs, but
skidded to a halt on the landing, a deep sense of dread filling her spirit.
Mollie, Hannah and Rebecca stood together at the door, grief etched deeply in
their expressions. Naomi grabbed the rail.
Oh, God, not …
“What is it?”

Slowly, Rebecca stepped forward. “Silas has been shot, Naomi. He’s
dead.”

Shock and sadness engulfed her and she immediately thought of
Sarah. She descended the stairs, each step deepening her heartbreak. Such dear,
sweet friends. What horrible news. “What happened?”

“A group of men tried to rob the bank. Silas was in the mercantile
near a window. It was a stray bullet.” Rebecca shrugged. “The marshal doesn’t
even know who shot him.”

Naomi wished for a chair. She wanted to sit down, put her head in
her hands, and weep. She knew only too well how this news would devastate
Sarah. An ache that would never really subside. An emptiness that would never
be filled.

Hannah swallowed and took a small step forward. She spoke in a
frail, quivering voice. “Doc asked if I would come down and clean up Silas. I
would appreciate help. The marshal wants us to take him home first thing
tomorrow.”

~~~

Thirty-Nine

Billy stepped out of the marshal’s office, followed by Emilio.
He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head of the image of
Silas Madden shot right between the eyes. He flinched, not sure if he was more
disturbed by the image seared in his brain, or that he and Emilio had hunkered
down behind a miner’s loaded pack mule to avoid the same fate. Explaining
themselves to the marshal wasn’t the most enjoyable conversation he’d ever had,
but what were two unarmed men supposed to do?

Beneath a gray sky spitting occasional rain drops, he scanned the
street. Ragged miners, their eyes glittering with Gold Fever, flowed down it
like a muddy, debris-filled creek. Packs on their backs and on their horses,
they moved with selfish deliberation toward their goal of striking it rich.
None of them seemed disturbed in the least by the gunfight that took place less
than half an hour ago. Bodies had littered the street, blood still stained it,
but now things were back to normal. He wondered irrationally if the coming rain
would wash away the red dirt.

Queasy, he dragged his hand through his hair and placed his hat
back on his head. “Do things ever settle down in Defiance?”

Emilio stepped up beside him. “It’s better than it used to be.”

“This is no place for Hannah and Little Billy.”

“Speaking of …” Emilio pointed across the street. The two boys
watched as Hannah, holding Little Billy, trudged with Mollie, Rebecca and Naomi
up the boardwalk, moving as if they were in a funeral procession. “I bet
they’re going to Doc’s. Silas was a friend.”

Billy checked the traffic, stepped off the walk, and wove his way
through it to get to the girls, Emilio trailing him. Somberly, Billy fell into
step beside Hannah, who acknowledged him with a quick, sad glance. He didn’t
know how, but he wanted to help. “I’m sorry. I hear Silas was a friend.”

“Yes, yes he was.” As if weary of the weight, she shifted Little
Billy to her other hip. “Sarah is a dear friend as well. This will devastate
her. We’re going to try to clean him up and take him to her.” Hannah’s lip
trembled. “This is going to break her heart.”

Billy wondered what in the world they could do to clean up a hole
in a man’s forehead.

The group walked a few more steps in silence. Needing the comfort
of innocence and pure love, he reached for his son. “Here, I’d like to carry
the rascal.” Hannah didn’t resist. Billy enfolded his son and made a silly face
at him as he spoke. “This sure is one rough place you ladies chose to settle
in.”

“No, God chose it for us,” Naomi said from behind them. “And
robberies happen everywhere.” Was she defending this place? Billy gawked at her
over his shoulder, but snapped his mouth shut. “Beckwith has only been marshal
since November,” she added defiantly. “He’ll clean it up.”

Wishing he could say at least one right thing, Billy pinched the
bridge of his nose as they turned down an alley and headed for a small house
set off by itself. Doc’s office. In the front yard, the group passed a freight
wagon loaded with the bodies of the would-be bank robbers. The girls gasped at
the sight of the four dead men stacked like cord wood. Trying to ignore the
macabre scene, Billy shielded his son’s eyes as he pounded up the porch’s steps
and grabbed the door. He held it open for the ladies as they hurried in.

Hannah went immediately to Doc who was fishing a bullet out of Mr.
Boot’s shoulder. “Can I help, Doc?”

“Nah, I’ve got this, barely a flesh wound.” Boot, sitting on the
edge of the table, grimaced as the doctor plucked the tip of the tweezers loose
from his flesh and held up a piece of lead bathed in blood. “It wasn’t deep at
all.”

The man squeezed his eyes shut and tossed his stringy hair. “Easy
for you to say.”

Hannah touched Boot on the shoulder. “Just be thankful, Mr. Boot,
that it didn’t strike anywhere more important.”

He nodded. “I know. I saw them bring in Silas. Darn shame.”

Reminded of the reason for their visit, Billy removed his hat.
Emilio quickly copied him.

Boot hissed as Doc swabbed the wound down with alcohol, earning an
impatient glare from the physician. “Boot, you could stand to toughen up some.”
He shifted his gaze to Hannah and gentled his voice. “Silas is in the other
examination room. Do what you can to clean him up. Wrap him in the quilt on the
bed.”

She nodded and slipped into the room. The other girls quietly
followed her. Restless, Billy glanced around the doc’s office. Neat and clean,
jars, vials, and bandages covered the counters. Cabinets of medicine and
supplies lined one wall. As his eyes roamed, he caught movement behind a
cracked door. Had he seen an eye? He watched the door for several more seconds.
Finally, from behind the thin wood, he heard the high-pitched clank of metal on
metal.

“Emilio?” Doc walked over to the dry sink with a tray of bloody
instruments in his hands and set them in it.

The boy straightened a bit. “
Si?”

“I think you’ve got some time. Beckwith was just here doin’ the
paperwork on those bodies outside. I forgot to tell him Black Elk needs to be
taken off our hands.” He poured a basin of water into the pan. “Ask him to come
arrest him or release him, but I need that bed opened up.” Scowling, he grabbed
the bar of soap sitting on the shelf. “Wouldn’t have had a place for Silas
there if I hadn’t discharged Jim Riley this morning.”

“
Si
.” Emilio slapped his hat back on his head. “I will be
right back. Do you want to come?” he asked Billy. Billy shook his head. He
wanted to stay.

The patient, Mr. Boot, plucked a shirt from the table and
carefully inched his way into the garment. “Doc, I have to tell ya, I’ve
finally come around to your way of thinking. I’m through with Defiance.
Besides, my mother needs me.” Grunting, he rose to his feet. “Let me know if
you hear of a buyer.”

Scrubbing instruments, Doc nodded. “All right, but don’t be
thinkin’ you’ll leave town before this bill is paid.”

Boot rolled his eyes, grabbed his cane from beside the table, and
gimped to the door. “I ain’t skipped out on one yet.” He reached for the
doorknob. “There’s always a first time, though.” Grunting again, he let himself
out.

As Doc washed up, Billy’s thoughts wandered to the Indian in the
other room. “So, this Black Elk. Is he the savage who tore up the saloon?”

“Yep.” There. The eye again. Billy was sure that time. Black Elk
was watching … and listening. “Speakin’ of which …” Doc dried his hands and
strode toward the patient’s room. Billy saw the eye disappear, heard the creak
of springs and the clank of metal again. Doc opened the door. “You all right,
Black Elk? Need anything?”

“I need out of here.” The terse answer surprised Billy. Black Elk
definitely didn’t sound sick any more. Curious to take a gander at a real
Indian, Billy leaned way over, straining to see around Doc. Black Elk’s skin
was the color of a new saddle and his eyes were as black as coal. Sniffing, he
glared at Billy. “And I need that Pale Face to quit staring at me.” He motioned
towards Billy, the action clanking his handcuff attached to the bed’s
headboard.

Doc laughed. “You got bigger problems than him, son.” He shut the
door on Black Elk and grinned at Billy, shaking his head. “Hell is empty—”

“And all the devils are here.” The doctor raised a brow. Billy
shifted his son onto his other arm and shrugged. “My father believed in
educating his oldest son so he could become a politician, though I can’t figure
why a politician needs to know any Shakespeare.”

“Agreed. Machiavelli would serve you better.”

“But it’s true.”

Doc inclined his head, not following.

“All the devils
are
here,” Billy motioned toward the town.
“I thought Dodge City was bad .”

“Ah,” Doc waved him off as he went about straightening up things,
resituating instruments and supplies. “Defiance is settling down. More
God-fearin’ folk are comin’ in every day. Won’t be long, I’m sure, before we
have a church, a school, and a dress shop.” He passed by and ruffled Little
Billy’s hair.

Billy smiled and took his son over to gaze out the window. Doc’s
office, on the edge of town, was situated behind the land office and near the
entrance to the Sunny Side Mine. A group of six or so men meandered by, long,
slender shadows trailing behind them. Billy assumed they worked at the mine.

What was he going to work at? He couldn’t keep hanging around the
hotel, following Hannah about and babysitting Billy–he kissed his son’s
forehead–though that wasn’t so bad. He’d meant it when he’d said he was
staying, even if he lost Hannah to Emilio. The thought sat in his gut like a
stone and he hugged the baby in his arms.

“Doc, I need a job. You happen to know where I could look? Or
maybe there’s a business in town for sale.”

Doc wandered up beside him, staring out the window in the same
direction. “A business, eh?”

“My father is a banker and has several interests. I know a fair
amount about running them.”

“You good with numbers, are you?”

“Very.”

“Well, that man hobblin’ back into town,” he motioned toward Boot
walking at a snail’s pace toward Main Street, “owns the mercantile now. He
started out as the manager but bought it a few months ago. Anyway, I figured
it’d be too much for him as Mr. Boot doesn’t have a constitution suited for the
West. After that wrenched ankle, getting’ shot today was the icing on the cake.”
He ribbed Billy. “I’d bet he’ll give ya a deal on it.”

Billy could run a mercantile in his sleep and, in a boom town,
sell it pretty quickly when he decided to depart, if the need arose. Pondering
the possibility, he watched Boot until the man disappeared around the corner of
the land office.

~~~