In the Marshal's Arms (3 page)

He chuckled. “I can see that.” Aware that he was becoming too friendly, he stepped toward the door. “I’d best get back to the roof.”

But even as he hammered the rest of the day, he kept an eye on her as she hung out load after load of laundry. Seeing his shirts fluttering in the breeze beside her petticoats was kind of nice. Never had he thought a sight like that would arouse him.

“The roof on the barn is fixed. I’ll sleep out there tonight,” Mr. Burgess announced over dinner.

She shook her head. “The wind has died down, which means tonight will be even colder. Stay in here by the fire.”

He met her gaze over the lantern. “Your husband would not like it if he came in to find me sleeping a few feet from your bed.”

She swallowed. “I doubt he would travel in this weather.”

“He might, if he was missing you.”

Even if he was alive, that would never happen. Edward always seemed happy to see her, but he had never hurried home to her.

“I don’t want to be shot for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“He won’t be home tonight. I’m sure of it.”

Still, Mr. Burgess seemed anxious to leave. Should she tell him the truth?

“I’ll feel safer with you in the house,” she said.

He considered a moment, then nodded. “We should be able to make it to town tomorrow. After that, do you have any other jobs for me?”

“Are you planning to move on?” Her stomach knotted at the thought of him leaving. She hadn’t realized how lonely she was until she had someone else around. She supposed she’d get used to being alone again, but the idea held no appeal.

“Not as long as there’s work that needs to be done. I just wanted to know what was next.”

“Perhaps I should make you a list.” Then horror struck her. Could he read? Her gaze flew to his face to read his expression.

He merely nodded. “That would be fine, as long as it isn’t too long.”

She laughed, as much in relief as anything. “Did you go to school, or learn to read at home?”

“I learned to read at home because my mother had been a teacher, but I also went to school. I have a particular aptitude for figures.”

“Arithmetic was my favorite subject. Geography was my least, until I started traveling from one place to another. I wanted to see where I was in relation to home, so I taught myself.”

“Do you have any books in the house?”

“Nothing with stories. I do enjoy a penny dreadful every now and again, but it’s been awhile.”

“I usually have one or two in my pack, but I traded them for some jerky awhile back.”

“The jerky likely lasted longer,” she said with a laugh.

He grinned. “I’ll check on the animals and then I’ll be back in.”

Maddy was nervous as she cleared the table. The hour was early, too early for bed, and she didn’t know how to pass the time with another person in the house. She had no room for entertaining, only her bed and the table.

When Mr. Burgess returned, he checked the wood supply beside the stove, then moved toward the door.

“Do you mind if I clean my guns?”

Her heart gave a little skip, but of course a man on the trail would have guns for protection and hunting. “No, certainly not.”

He stepped outside, picked up his rifle and his saddlebags, then sat at the table. She watched as he meticulously laid out a cloth and supplies, then pulled out his revolver, unloaded it, then took it apart, his fingers sure. Moments later the scent of gun oil filled the room as he polished every piece of the weapon.

“If you have any mending you’d like done, I wouldn’t mind.” She hated for her hands to be idle, but she was caught up on her sewing and was out of yarn for knitting.

He gave her a considering look. “Yeah, I’m missing a couple of buttons here and there. Sure is nice of you to have done my laundry. I can’t remember the last time I had clean clothes.”

She moved to his saddlebags to retrieve his clothes, since he had gun oil on his hands, but he whipped a hand out and snatched the leather pouch away from her, leaving her standing with her hands in front of her, palms out in surrender. Was he hiding something?

“I’ll get it,” he said, a trifle gruffly, and wiped his hands on a rag before drawing out the damaged clothing.

She took them from him cautiously and crossed back to sit on her bed, retrieving her sewing basket on the way. Edward had occasionally behaved in such a way when there was something he didn’t want her to see. What secret was Mr. Burgess keeping?

Chapter Three

Rhys looked up from hitching the horse to the wagon when he heard the door close. Maddy Colby stood on the porch dressed in a fine green wool dress, a bonnet covering her red hair, her hands clasping a pocketbook in front of her.

“You going to be warm enough like that?” he asked. The wind had stopped blowing, but frost had covered everything when he woke this morning. The sun was shining now, but clouds loomed in the distance. They might be taking a bit of a risk going into town today. As he recalled it was almost an hour away.

“I have my shawl.”

“Nothing heavier?”

She followed his gaze to the clouds to their north. “You think I’ll need my winter coat?”

“Mrs. Colby, I need my winter coat just standing here. So, yes, ma’am, I think you should take it.”

She turned back into the house. Moments later she emerged in a full-length coat with fur trim at the neck and sleeves—the first time he’d seen her with something that the Colbys’ ill-gotten gains could have bought her. She fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“It’s a bit fine for a ride to town.”

“I found a lap robe. It will keep it clean. And the drive shouldn’t be too dusty after that rain.” He moved to the foot of the steps and she put her gloved hand in his. He guided her down the steps and up to the rough seat of the wagon.

She carefully smoothed out her skirt and then fidgeted with her bonnet, like she wasn’t used to wearing so much.

“You doing all right?”

“I don’t care for going into town.”

He swung up on the seat beside her. “Why’s that?”

“Too many people.”

“One would think a former actress would enjoy that.”

“That’s not who I am anymore.”

“No, you’re an inventor.”

She offered him a nervous smile. “I’m a woman who’s looking for an easier way. My mind is always figuring things out. And I have time to indulge myself.” She smoothed her hands over the pocketbook on her lap. “I don’t sit still often.”

“I had noticed that.”

“And you know how to stay still.”

“I do.”

She blew out a sigh. “I wish I could.”

She managed, somewhat, on the way into town. He kept an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t too cold. It was hard to tell, as much as she wiggled on the seat. Her fidgeting got worse as they approached town, a single street with less than two dozen buildings lining either side, some with false fronts, some white-washed, some with raw wood.

“First stop?” he asked.

“The general store. Then the feed store. Then perhaps the butcher.” When he looked at her she shrugged. “Butchering is one chore I don’t care to do myself.”

He drew the wagon in front of the general store, one of the older buildings, and hopped down to help her out of the wagon. She lingered on the sidewalk as he tied up the horses.

“Go inside where it’s warm,” he chided.

“I’m fine,” she said, her teeth chattering.

He tied a blanket around the horse with a sigh, then mounted the sidewalk and took Maddy’s arm to lead her inside.

A wall of warmth hit them as they entered the store and Rhys felt his body relax. Maddy, however, tensed further and turned away from the husband and wife proprietors to scurry down the crowded aisle, a basket looped over her arm. Rhys removed his hat in salute to the older woman behind the counter. The woman granted him a brief glance, but her eyes narrowed as she watched Maddy loading items in the basket. A hostility he didn’t understand tightened the woman’s stature, and it seemed to be directed at Maddy.

Instinctively, he moved to Maddy’s side as she filled her basket with staples. She didn’t skimp, didn’t act like a woman on a budget as she added sugar and molasses and white flour. She moved to the back of the store to inspect the fabric. He watched her small hands caress the different textures before she set her basket down and pulled out a bolt, then another, then a third. Her shoulders squared, and then she turned toward the proprietress, her chin up.

“I’d like these measured out, please.”

The woman approached stiffly and took the bolts. Maddy told her what she needed, then proceeded down the next aisle. Rhys took up the basket and followed.

When she was done, with more supplies than a single woman could use, they approached the counter. The owner eyeballed her purchases, opened a book and wrote the total down, all without speaking a word to her. Not credit, surely, because she had no income. What, then? The owner nodded at her, then she and Rhys carried her purchases to the wagon.

“Not very friendly there, are they?”

“They don’t care for me.”

“Why’s that? You seem to give them a lot of business.” He hefted the bottles of kerosene into the back of the wagon.

She lowered her head, but he could still see the pink of her cheeks beneath the edge of her bonnet. “They know I was an actress in my past life, and they are not particular fans of the theater.”

They thought she was a whore, she meant. For a moment, he wondered if that was how she paid her debts in town, with sexual favors. He couldn’t picture it—or didn’t care for imagining it, anyway, her pretty, lush body beneath a heaving old man. Her body was meant to be cherished, not used.

He needed to steel himself against sympathy—and lust for--this woman.

He didn’t ask any more questions as they visited the feed store, where she was treated much the same, and the transaction was nearly identical to that of the general store.

“Butcher shop next?” he asked after loading bags of chicken feed and grain into the backs of the wagon. He wondered if the shop owners resented her putting so much on credit. She didn’t seem to think twice about it.

She heaved a deep breath as she looked at the shop across the muddy street, then nodded.

Once he saw her safely to the butcher shop, he made an excuse of needing shaving supplies back at the general store. He needed to know what was going on here.

He was greeted with no more friendliness than Maddy had been. He gathered what he needed, then approached the woman to complete his transaction. He saw a couple of dime novels near the counter and added them to his purchase. He didn’t know if Maddy had read them or not, but they would pass the time, and keep his mind off of her.

“Will this be on Mrs. Colby’s account?” the woman asked.

“No, ma’am, I have paper money.” He drew out the folded bills from his back pocket.

“Are you her new man?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I didn’t figure she’d be alone long once that Colby man was killed.”

“I’m doing some work around her place. She didn’t mention anyone being killed.”

“A bank robber, he was, and her no better, nothing more than a whore.”

Rhys set his jaw. He wasn’t here to defend Maddy’s honor, but to find information.

“Yet you let her buy on credit?”

The woman huffed out a disgusted breath. “She’s not buying on credit. The other one, Luke Colby, brother to Edward, pays her bills.”

Excitement leapt in Rhys’s chest. Just what he’d been hoping to hear. “Is he due to come pay her bills soon?”

“I certainly hope so. We need the money to pay our suppliers.”

With that information, he walked out of the general store and saw her huddled by the wagon, her face turned toward it.

“What is it?” he asked, touching her arm.

She shook her head, her face averted. He felt a shudder run through her and realized she was crying.

“Did something happen at the butcher shop?”

She lifted her face, blotchy with tears, her jaw gritted. “Nothing I shouldn’t be used to by now.”

“Do you need me to go get the purchases?”

“Would you?” Her eyes widened with gratitude. “That would be wonderful. And then we can go eat a warm lunch in the hotel.”

He cast a cautious glance at the skies, the heavy gray clouds that had rolled closer. “All right. Meet me there.”

Maddy set her gloves on the tablecloth beside her plate and stroked them nervously. She’d always wanted to have lunch in the Driscoll Hotel, but never had the nerve to come alone. She looked across the table at Mr. Burgess, so handsome and strong. He’d been a great source of comfort to her during this trip, and she felt a little more confident with him by her side.

He was very quiet during their meal of warm beef stew and bread. For a moment she wondered if the Shepherds had told him tales about her. But no, he didn’t seem to be overly concerned with gossip, though he glanced occasionally out the window.

“What is it?”

“I’m afraid there’s going to be snow and it will be difficult to get back to the ranch.”

A new tension seized her. “I need to get back. The animals need to be tended to.”

“We probably should leave soon.” The tightness of his jaw told her he thought even that put them at risk.

She straightened her place setting. “All right. Let’s order a dinner to take with us and get started.”

“We could stay in town until the worst has passed,” he ventured.

She met his gaze. “No one will rent me a room, I’m sorry to say. I’m fortunate they allowed me to sit in the dining room.” She looked around at the sparsely populated room. Likely that was why—they had no other business. “I’ll order the food and get this packaged up. You get the horse ready.”

Either the temperature had dropped when she was in the restaurant, or she was accustomed to the warmth of the building, because she started shivering the moment she stepped outside. She couldn’t allow Mr. Burgess to see, or he would insist they stay in town. She would hate that.

He lifted the lap robe for her and helped her into the wagon. Warmth touched her toes as she settled in.