Lawman in Disguise (11 page)

“Haven't thought about it much yet, Dawson. Why? You got a suggestion?”

Griggs's eyes had narrowed again, and Thorn knew his question had been a mite too presumptuous. He shrugged. “Just wonderin' if you thought we ought to get out of the Hill Country for a while, now that we've hit Simpson Creek
and
Lampasas...if you thought it might be getting too hot for us, that's all.”

He hadn't meant for that to sound like a criticism, but the implication that the situation might be becoming too dangerous, that Griggs wasn't smart enough or capable enough to avoid capture if they stayed in the area, turned out to be exactly the right spur to the man's excessively large ego.

“Now listen here, Dawson—we didn't get to be the most feared outlaw gang in Texas by actin' yellow,” Griggs snarled, showing stained, irregular teeth. “
I
say when a place is gettin' too hot for us, understand? Most of these hick towns ain't even got a telegraph to pass the news of what we done, let alone a sheriff smart enough to catch us. We ain't goin' nowhere unless I say so. An' when I want your advice, I'll ask for it, is that clear?”

Thorn hunched his shoulders and raised both hands palm up to signify submission. “Sorry, boss, I wasn't tryin' to suggest anyone was lily-livered. Just after hearing your story about the waitress, I thought it might be nice for me to take the lady who was caring for me some token of my esteem...if we were still gonna be in the area, that is. If we're movin' on, no problem...” And if he knew where the next robbery would be, he could use the visit to Daisy to tip off Sheriff Bishop while he was there, and not have to convince a lawman in some new town who didn't know him.

Griggs sniggered. “Hopin' to get some time for sparkin' with the lady now that you're on the mend, was you? Must be feelin' yore oats... Well, ya can't go wrong with jewelry, if you get a chance to snatch some—women do like their baubles, don't they?”

Thorn allowed himself to relax a little now that Griggs seemed to have been placated by his reaction.

“Like I said, Dawson, let me think on it a mite.” He belched, then let out an enormous yawn. “Shoulda said sleep on it. Reckon I'll turn in...”

* * *

“Here's the chicken and dumplings Mrs. Detwiler ordered,” Daisy said, pointing to the steaming dish she'd just set out as Tilly entered the kitchen.

Tilly's mouth twisted in an unbecoming pout. “She told me when it was ready to have
you
bring it out.”

With an effort of will, Daisy kept a grin from blossoming on her lips. It had to be a blow to Tilly's ego that her campaign to discredit her had met with such a spectacular failure. While a few folks seemed to study her with increased interest, no one had shunned Daisy, treated her like a scandalous woman or even mentioned that they'd heard that a wounded outlaw had been staying in her barn. Everyone seemed to believe the story that her roof was repaired by a working man simply passing through town.

“Oh, Mrs. Detwiler and I are old friends,” she said, picking up the hot dish with a towel and heading for the dining room. “She even gave me one of her rose bushes once.” Tilly didn't have to know that the older woman, famous for her roses, had done it as a gesture of sympathy when Daisy's husband had been killed.

“Mrs. Detwiler, so good to see you,” she said to the woman, who beamed back at her from her seat in the center of the room. “Here's your blue plate special, but we're out of blue plates,” she added, as she laid the dish at her place.

It was an old joke between them. The hotel had never had anything but gray-rimmed white china.

“I decided I needed to get out of my house for a while. Tired of my own cooking. How are you, my dear?” asked Mrs. Detwiler. The elderly woman was the acknowledged social arbiter of the town by virtue of her long residence and the fact that her late husband had been a preacher. Yet for all her status, she always had time to inquire kindly after Daisy. “Are you holding up all right?”

Her question, Daisy knew, was a discreet way of asking how she was weathering Tilly's gossip.

“Just fine, thank you, ma'am,” Daisy said, giving her a wink to show she understood the deeper context of Mrs. Detwiler's inquiry. “Simpson Creek folks are the nicest folks in Texas.”

“
Most
of them,” the older woman agreed, with a nod toward the kitchen to indicate she was exempting the waitress. “As my ma used to say, ‘What you don't see with your eyes, don't witness with your mouth.'
Some
people haven't learned that yet. How's that boy of yours? I hear he's working at Ella's café. I had breakfast there the other day, and Ella speaks very highly of him.”

Daisy smiled. “Billy Joe's doing just fine. He seems to enjoy the job.” She started to say she'd better get back to the kitchen, but heard a flurry near the doorway and looked up to see Mr. Prendergast ushering none other than the mayor into the dining room.

“Mayor Gilmore, such an honor to have you dine with us today,” he was saying, as he showed him to the most central table.

The mayor thanked him in his affable way as he sat down.

“Get back to the kitchen and I'll bring his order right in,” commanded Tilly. But just as Daisy was about to do so, the mayor caught sight of her and beckoned her toward him.

“If it isn't the best cook in the Hill Country,” he proclaimed. “Come here, Mrs. Henderson, and tell me what the special is today.”

Daisy heard Tilly's barely suppressed sniff of outrage beside her. “Miss Tilly can take your order, Mr. Gilmore,” she suggested, knowing she'd pay later, somehow, for any favoritism shown by the mayor.

“I know she can, but I'd like to visit with you for a moment, if that's all right,” he said. “My daughter was just telling me what a nice visit you two had the other day.”

“It's always pleasant talking to Prissy,” she said. “She makes me feel good. Little Samantha is growing like a weed, too, isn't she?”

The mayor chuckled and slapped his leg. “That's a fact.”

“I hope your wife is well?” Daisy inquired. The mayor, who'd been a widower, had recently wed an old friend from his school days, and it was unusual to see him out and about without his Maria.

“She's in Houston, settling the sale of her former home there and visiting old friends, and our cook is taking some well-earned time off, which is why I'm eating at the hotel today,” Mayor Gilmore told her.

“Oh, you must miss Mrs. Gilmore tremendously,” gushed Tilly, who still hovered behind Daisy. “When will she return?”

“She's coming back on the stage exactly two weeks from today,” the mayor said.

“Two weeks from today?” Tilly echoed. “I'll bet you can hardly wait, Mr. Gilmore.”

“Indeed I can't,” the mayor agreed. “The house seems empty without her. All right, Miss Daisy, tell me about the special today.”

It was a gracious dismissal of Tilly, and the waitress knew it. She withdrew, but kept an eagle eye on Daisy and the mayor from the front of the restaurant until Daisy took his order and excused herself to return to the kitchen.

To Daisy's surprise, Tilly took no opportunity to attempt to pick on her further, even after the mayor departed, but seemed preoccupied with her thoughts.
She's plotting something,
Daisy thought,
but what?

Chapter Ten

“S
till have a hankerin' to visit yore lady friend in Simpson Creek?” Griggs inquired of Thorn the next evening, after they'd spent the day profitably holding up the stage that traveled between Lampasas and San Saba. “I thought after dark I might go see my little waitress, and it occurred to me you might like to go, too.”

“Sure, why not?” Thorn drawled, careful to keep his tone noncommittal, as if he didn't care too much one way or the other. Griggs might think he was fooling Thorn, but he wasn't. If they were both in town at once, the outlaw might go nowhere near the traitorous Tilly, but might situate himself so he was in a perfect position to see if Thorn visited Daisy...or if, instead, he used the time to report to the sheriff.

And if that was Griggs's plan, it must mean he suspected Thorn, at least a little. Or was he just being paranoid? Perhaps Griggs really did want to see the waitress.

“Are we meeting to ride back here at any certain time? You weren't planning on staying till morning, were you?” Thorn asked.

Griggs gave a snort. “Have you gone loco, Dawson? Stick around till the town's stirrin' and the law is up and about? Ain't no woman worth that risk, and if you can't accomplish your aims with your lil' sweetheart in a few hours...” He snickered suggestively. “Besides, we're gonna take a couple of the men to stand watch, just in case the law's out prowlin' around... I thought we'd head back about midnight. You still got that pocket watch of yore father's? I can use the one I took off that stage passenger today.”

Thorn kept his lip from wrinkling in disgust by an effort of will. The stage passenger, a wizened old man, had wept when relieved of the gold heirloom watch, moaning that it had been his father's. Even if Griggs had no pity, didn't he realize that keeping the timepiece, with those distinctive initials inscribed on the back, “SRT,” might be enough to convict him someday?

“All right, we'll meet up at midnight in front of the church to ride back. Sounds like a fine plan. We'll leave after supper, and that should put us in Simpson Creek right about when that one-horse town shuts down for the night, except for the saloon.”

Then Thorn thought of something else. Had Griggs learned from Tilly that Daisy worked at the restaurant, too—that their “sweethearts” knew each other and interacted every day? He wished he knew. If Griggs did know, should he ask the outlaw leader not to mention his visiting Daisy, out of concern for her reputation? But he didn't want to bring it up if Griggs didn't know. The outlaw didn't give two hoots in a hailstorm about a widow's good name, and was the cruel sort who might find it entertaining to have Daisy embarrassed by a public scandal, especially if it benefited Tilly by getting her Daisy's higher-paying job. Maybe it was safest to assume that Griggs and Tilly had been too busy with other things when they were together to discuss anyone else.

Thorn had to wonder how Daisy would receive him. Would she have missed him enough to be glad at the sight of him, or would Tilly have blackened her name with gossip enough that she would view him only as the source of her disgrace, and refuse to speak to him? Either way, though, he had to know how she felt.

Too bad he didn't know anything of Griggs's plans for the next few days; Thorn could have Daisy inform Bishop of them so an ambush could be set up. At least he could tell her of the outlaw leader's liaison with Tilly, so Bishop could put a watch on where the waitress lived.

Then he reconsidered. He couldn't chance putting Daisy in danger by having her inform on Tilly to the sheriff. It was bad enough that Griggs's men had told their leader where Thorn had been staying. If things backfired and Tilly found out who had squealed on her, Daisy and her son might well suffer the consequences. Even if he and Daisy never had a future, Thorn couldn't endanger her further in any way.

* * *

Daisy's house was dark by the time Thorn rode up to it. Griggs, accompanied by Bob Pritchard, had ridden away before he got there, turning right after the bank to ride down the alley between the mercantile and the hotel. From Thorn's exploration of the town before the robbery, he knew the boardinghouse sat just behind the hotel, which probably meant Tilly lived there.

Zeke had been assigned to stay with Thorn. Griggs said he was there to protect him from the chance of being attacked, but Thorn was fairly certain Zeke's true purpose was to watch him to make sure he didn't speak with anyone but Daisy. Either way, he was thankful the man didn't seem to think he needed to stay right by Thorn's side.

“Enjoy yoreself, Dawson,” Zeke called from the street, as Thorn rode up to the barn. “I'll be out here watchin' the stars. Give me a whistle if you need any help,” he added with a snicker.

Thorn wondered how he was going to alert Daisy that he was there. Even if she wasn't furious with him, she might not want Billy Joe to know he had come. He didn't know for certain which bedroom was hers, so he couldn't even throw pebbles against her window like some lovesick boy.

But he need not have worried. Daisy was sitting on the back steps that led into the kitchen, a light shawl draped around her shoulders, and she rose as he dismounted in front of the barn. Her hair lay in a thick, moonlight-kissed plait that curved around one shoulder.

“I couldn't sleep,” she murmured as she drew near. “A few minutes ago, something told me to go outside and get some air—now I see why. Thorn, why are you here? Has the Griggs gang been captured?”

“Let's go into the barn,” he said, conscious of Tomlinson sitting on his horse in the shadows in front of Daisy's house, just a few yards away. “They haven't been captured yet,” he said softly, when she'd followed him inside. Thorn wished he could have answered in the affirmative. “One of the outlaws had, uh, business here, and I rode along. I just had to see that you were all right, you and Billy Joe.” He let himself drink her in, memorizing her features, especially those deep-set blue eyes. In the silvery moonlight he could see the dark shadows beneath them.

“Oh, Thorn...” She sighed, looking down, and he sensed she was trying to frame her answer so as to make things sound better than they were. “Yes, I'm all right, and so is Billy Joe. He just misses you, that's all.”

The words were out before he could call them back. “And you? Do
you
miss me, too, Daisy?”

She met his gaze then, and her heart was in her eyes. “Oh, Thorn—I do. Of course I do. And I worry about you...” And then, without conscious volition, she was in his arms, and he was kissing her, his hands curled into the loose tendrils at her forehead, and nothing had ever felt so good in his entire life.

“Daisy, I love you,” he said. “And I'm going to do everything I can to come back to you as soon as I can. I want a life with you, Daisy. I want to be a father to Billy Joe.”

“I love you, too, Thorn. And you've already been more of a father to Billy Joe than his real father ever was.”

She loved him
. He couldn't do more at that moment than contemplate the enormity of her admission. And kiss her again as he thanked God for her, until finally he knew he had to stop kissing her or he'd never be able to let her go.

“I was seen, wasn't I, that morning I was up on your barn roof. That's how the outlaws located me, apparently. Whoever saw me must have told someone, and word spread from there.”

She nodded ruefully. “Mrs. Donahue next door overslept that day and missed church. She heard the banging, and when she looked out her window, she saw you. She came into town for breakfast and told Tilly—the waitress, remember?—and Tilly tried to cause a scandal and get me fired.” Then, to Thorn's surprise, Daisy chuckled. “But it didn't work. Our boss gave me another chance, and no one else who knew me would pay her any mind. The people of Simpson Creek just have better things to do.”

“It's a town I'd be proud to live in,” he agreed. He waited a moment, then said, “Should you let Billy Joe know I'm here? It's up to you, of course, but I can stay for a little while.”

Daisy stared at him, an agony of indecision painting her features. “I... I don't think so, Thorn. If he wakes up and finds you here, that's one thing...but it was too hard on him, when you suddenly had to go that last time. To see that you're back, but hear that you'll need to leave before morning would be difficult for him to take. Better to wait, I think, until you can stay.”

She was probably right. And anyway, with Tomlinson on watch, it was better that Billy Joe not come outside. And as Daisy had said, the boy had had enough experience with significant male figures disappearing from his life.

But Thorn had a while before he was to meet Griggs at the church, so he might as well treasure the time with the woman he had come to love. After settling themselves on a bale of hay, they shared stories of their lives, with Thorn peeking at his pocket watch every so often so the time didn't get away from them.

Daisy told him about Billy Joe's birth, and how happy she had been to have a baby to love, since she'd learned she couldn't depend on his father's affection. She also told him how scared she had been to put an innocent baby in the path of her violent husband. She told him about how her husband had been arrested for kidnapping the teacher, too, and how he had later been killed in a prison riot. Touched by her tragedy, he found himself telling her about his first love, Selena, and how she had been killed in an ambush by the very outlaws he'd been chasing. This had been before, during the war years, when he could still call himself a Texas Ranger. While he was speaking about Selena's loss, he changed his mind about not telling Daisy about the waitress. If she wasn't forearmed about that other woman, it might somehow lead her into an ambush, too.

“Daisy, I want you to be very careful around that Tilly,” he whispered. “She's dangerous—”

“Dangerous?” Daisy gave a little laugh. “Thorn, she's only gossipy and spiteful. Don't worry, I can handle her.”

He framed her face between his hands. “No, listen to me, sweetheart. I mean it. She's dangerous. She's the one who Griggs is...uh, sparking. He's with her right now. A woman who'd knowingly ally herself with an outlaw...well, there's no telling what she might do. She's already agreed to pass information over to him. She's the one who told the gang that they could find me here. Be very careful how you deal with her—for your safety and Billy Joe's.”

Daisy's eyes had gone wide in the dim light. “But shouldn't we tell the sheriff he's here, this Griggs?” She started to rise. “Thorn, we could tell Bishop and he could capture him—this very night! It'd be over. You wouldn't have to go back to them—”

He took hold of her wrists and gently pulled her back down to the bale she'd been sitting on. Then he told her about Tomlinson on watch outside, and she stilled immediately.

“I
should
say you shouldn't have come, especially since you brought an outlaw with you. But since he's one of the ones who already knows where we live, I don't suppose it matters,” she said with a shrug. “And I needed to see you,” she declared, a fierce spark shining in her eyes. “So I can't be sorry. But Thorn, I could let Bishop know about Tilly later. He could set a watch on her—”

Her voice had been rising from a whisper due to her excitement, and Thorn gently laid a finger over her lips. “I thought about that,” he admitted. “But I think it's too risky. She'd sic the gang on you and the boy out of pure spite if she found out. And if she managed to get word to Griggs that she was being watched, he'd suspect that I was the one who'd passed the word along to the sheriff. No, I just want you to keep an eye on her. Watch what she does—but don't go to Bishop unless you have no other choice. Trust me that I will do everything I can to bring these outlaws to justice. And pray,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Oh, I do trust you,” she assured him. “And I have been praying. I've learned what ‘praying without ceasing' means, as the Scriptures say we're supposed to do.”

All too soon, it was nearing midnight and time to go. Leaving her felt like ripping a part of his heart out and leaving it here. But he knew it would be safe in Daisy's keeping.

* * *

The next afternoon, Tilly was whistling as she came into the kitchen with the latest order.

“You're in a good mood,” Daisy observed, forcing herself to smile. Since she knew who was responsible for the other woman's unwonted cheeriness, she found it almost unbearable.

“Had a visit from my sweet beau last night,” Tilly said with a wink. “That always boosts my spirits. I highly recommend it—having a beau, that is.” She gave a trilling laugh that stung Daisy's nerves like sandpaper on an open wound. As if now that Tilly had recommended having a beau, Daisy would immediately start seeking one, as though she had never thought of it before.

“Do I know your beau?” she asked, wondering what Tilly would say. Thorn wouldn't want her to toy with the waitress like this, but she found the other woman's behavior maddening.

Tilly shrugged. “I don't think so,” she said. “He lives a ways out of town. But one day he's going to take me away from all this...” she said, waving her hand at the kitchen with its hot stove and racks of pots, pans and dishes. Her eyes danced with a secret glee.

Did Tilly think the outlaw was going to ask her to marry him? Then wed her in the church, in front of the whole town, before carrying her off on a big white horse as if she were a fairy princess? If she did, she was living in a dream world. But maybe she didn't even care if marriage was not a part of the bargain, as long as she had someone to shower her with stolen finery.

“Well, until that day comes, maybe you'd better take this order out to the customer,” Daisy said, dishing up a slice of roast beef dripping with gravy and mushrooms.