Scars of the Heart (9 page)

The morning breeze caressed her and coaxed her skin to gooseflesh. She shivered and looked around. As light washed over the land, her modesty returned. She hurried to the bushes and wrapped the binding cloths about her chest.

While donning her damp clothes, Carly noticed the bruises and cuts on her arms had almost healed. She gingerly felt the area around her eye. The swelling was gone, and little tenderness remained.

Using her fingers, she ruffled her hair and wished she had time to let it dry. After piling wet tresses atop her head, she tugged on her hat. She picked up the bar of soap and realized it appeared considerably smaller. Carly wondered briefly if Kade would scold her, then shrugged her shoulders and started back. She’d have scrubbed herself a fourth time if the morning had allowed.

For a moment, Carly felt like humming as she wandered through the trees. Then she reminded herself of her current circumstances and questionable future. Standing near the stallion, Kade looked up quickly when she entered the small clearing. The scowl she received dampened what was left of her cheery mood.

His hat sat low on his head, casting shadows over his face. Carly felt as if his gaze traveled the length of her. She ignored an eerie urge to cross her arms over her chest. She hesitated, then walked over to where he stood. With mumbled thanks, she offered him the soap.

“You can put it back where you found it.” He turned his attention to the rope he’d been coiling.

Why was he so grumpy all of a sudden? Kade stood between Carly and the saddlebag, but she sidestepped him and deposited the bar of lye.

He’d seemed to be in a decent enough mood earlier, when he had sent her off to bathe. What could have happened between then and now to ruffle his feathers? Especially when she wasn’t even around to do the ruffling?

Carly peeked at the man again. She wished she could see his eyes, but he ignored her. And her papa said women were moody!

As she started toward a rock suitable for sitting, the cowboy’s deep voice startled her.

“Mount up. We’re leaving.”

Grabbing the reins and a fistful of black mane, Kade stepped into the stirrup and settled on the saddle. He turned to offer her his hand, then stopped, staring down at her with unreadable eyes. Slowly he extended his arm and helped her to the horse’s back. Carly had the irrepressible feeling that somehow something had changed.

Relentless winds stirred tumbleweeds and dirt devils into a primitive prairie dance. Kade adjusted the bandanna he’d pulled over his nose and mouth. He peered into the distance to see the hazy outline of a small town on the horizon. Ducking his head against the brutal onslaught, he urged the black to a lope.

Early that morning, they had headed southwest, away from the stream. The security of the woods gradually faded to wide-open prairie. The sky had filled with clouds, and, by noon, the wind blew with a vengeance. Such weather was unpleasant enough, yet Kade had to endure a more persistent irritation. His companion clutched fistfuls of the back of his shirt, burying her face in the folds.

He could feel her hot breath on his skin. Try as he might, he couldn’t pry from his mind the image of her young, ripe body glistening in the morning sun. With a dig of the spurs, Kade tried to concentrate on the little town of Destiny and all that it offered—a cold shower, a stiff drink, and a stagecoach for his green-eyed companion.

Few inhabitants roamed the streets or lounged on the wooden sidewalks. Kade rode directly to the telegraph office. The sooner he got rid of
Carl
, the better.

The door nearly flew from his hands as they entered the drab office. He closed it firmly behind them, noticing how the wind whined loudly around the edges of the barrier. A small man with thin hair and wire-framed glasses stood behind a scarred desk.

“Well, look what blew in. Strangers.”

He chuckled at his own joke and wandered up to the counter. Tilting his head back, he peered at the newcomers through smudged lenses.

“What can I do for you?”

“Need to send a telegram to Marshall.” Kade slapped his hat against his leg, sending a cloud of dust swirling about the dry air.

“Can’t.” The man removed his glasses and began rubbing the eyepiece with the tail of his equally dirty apron.

“Whadda ya mean,
can’t
?”

“Can’t do it.” He replaced his glasses, hooking the gold wire around his ears. “Just got word. Line’s down about ten miles south of here. Must be the wind. Happens sometimes.”

“How long before it’s fixed?”

“Week, maybe two. Folks in these parts don’t get in too big a hurry too often.”

Kade turned to pace the small foyer. He swiveled abruptly. “Then if you’ll sell me a stage ticket, for today or—”

“Can’t.”

A narrowed glare from Kade caused the gentleman to tug at his bow tie, clear his throat, and continue quickly.

“The, uh, stage was through here this morning. Won’t be back for a week. We don’t get many travelers, in or out of Destiny.”

Cursing under his breath, Kade pulled his hat down low. Without another glance to the telegrapher, he threw open the office door. In three long strides, he lifted his foot to the stirrup as his companion hurried to keep up.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of help, sir.” The little man yelled against the bellow of the wind. “And welcome to Destiny.”

Within moments, the pair stood at the desk of the best hotel the town had to offer, which wasn’t much better than the hostelry Kade had watched Tiny drag Carl to only a couple of days before. A man, who could’ve passed for the telegrapher’s brother, smiled broadly and straightened his bow tie.

“Good day, sir, and welcome to Destiny.”

“We’ll be staying the night, me and—
the boy
.” Kade peered at his little sidekick and realized she hadn’t uttered a word since morning. She looked around nervously.

Off-key piano music drifted from an adjoining parlor. A feminine voice giggled and was immediately drowned out by deeper laughter.

“Then you’ll need a room.” The man turned to retrieve a key from a cubbyhole marked with a number six.

“Yes, uh, no. I mean, we’ll need two rooms.”

The man raised a brow at Kade.

“I like my privacy.”

“Certainly, sir.” The desk clerk put the key back and produced two others from bins three and four. “How about adjoining rooms? Two of our finest, I might add.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “We air these mattresses once a month and wash the sheets just as often.” He smiled proudly and shoved the registration book toward Kade.

The ring of a little brass bell produced an Oriental woman, smaller than Carl and just as quiet. She bowed slightly, scanned the area for baggage, then motioned toward a feeble-looking staircase.

Kade grabbed his ward’s arm and propelled her forward. Each step creaked and groaned until they reached the dimly lit upper hallway. Their hostess hurried past them to unlock the two designated doors. She motioned inside and waited—hands folded before her, eyes downcast.

“Thank you,” offered Kade. “We won’t be needing anything else.”

She bowed again and disappeared into the shadows. Kade faced Carl. “Take your pick. I’ll stable the black, uh, the stallion and find us some dinner. I think it would be best if you stayed in your room, outta sight.”

The girl nodded and gazed up at him with wide eyes. Fear and uncertainty had all but drained them of their color. A fine layer of dust covered her from head to toe. She clutched the front of her makeshift shirt and actually trembled as he appraised her.

“I’ll see if I can’t find you some decent clothes, too.” He watched as she backed into the nearest room and closed the door. The latch clicked softly as the lock slid into place.

She must be terrified,
thought Kade as he made his way downstairs. The last man who took her to a hotel was an angry, ugly brute who beat and manhandled her to the extent that Kade had felt the need to rescue her. Tiny most certainly knew she was a woman.

Kade suddenly needed a drink worse than he needed food. He crossed the foyer to the parlor. Smoke filled the small, dim room. He paused a moment, letting his eyes adjust. Half a dozen men turned to stare at the stranger. Kade noticed a couple of them could give Tiny a run for his money. Two thin, aging barmaids sauntered through the crowd. Their low-cut dresses were faded and frayed. He headed for the bar, and they followed.

A rotund woman of indeterminable age stood waiting behind the wooden counter. Black hair swirled high above her painted round face. Her dull crimson gown clung to every swell and bulge. Gone were the pearls and lace that surely adorned the bodice in its prime. Uneven stitches repaired a tear in one long sleeve.

“Whiskey,” ordered Kade. With a nod, she produced a bottle and splashed the dark liquid in a shot glass.

“My, my,” cooed one soiled dove. “What have we here?”

“A big, tall, handsome stranger,” answered the other. “He looks a mite lonely, Tess. Think we could cheer him up?”

Kade downed the fiery liquid, clenched his teeth, and accepted a refill from the barkeep.

“I bet we could. Might take all night, but I bet we could put a right purty smile on that handsome face of his.”

Both women giggled as they ran their hands across Kade’s back and shoulders. He upended his glass once more and stared straight ahead.

“The strong, silent type—my favorite.” Tess sighed and pressed her sagging bosom against his arm.

“That’s enough, girls. The gent’s not interested.” The barkeep’s deep voice rolled across the room.

“But, Ruby, he—”

“I said git. You’ve got willing customers to tend to.”

Tess and her companion flounced away in a pout. Kade nodded his thanks to Ruby, picked up his bottle and glass, and made his way to a table in a dark corner. Before long, the women occupied themselves with other patrons and seemed to forget he was there.

Half the bottle later, he was no further away from thoughts of his traveling companion than he’d been all day. The frightened look in Carl’s green eyes haunted him. Everything about her bothered Kade. Why hadn’t he seen through her disguise and noticed she was a woman? What his eyes had missed, his spirit had not. At least he now knew why his body reacted to her the way it did.

Kade’s mind ambled through a series of frozen images—a beautiful, young woman bathing in a pond; a sore and tired ragamuffin rubbing her tender backside; a born-and-bred eastern maiden terrified of the ways of the West. She’d been moved from the security and refinement of the life she was accustomed to, only to watch both her parents die.

The little details of her life meant a great deal more to Kade now. He could only imagine what terrors she must have suffered at the hands of a renegade Indian and a man like Tiny. A vivid image of the frightened girl beneath the cruel lash filled Kade’s vision. As if he were there in that alley, he could hear the ogre’s deep chuckle resonate, see his thick tongue dart out to lick his lips, leaving a bubbly trail of saliva.

“Need anything else, sugar?”

Ruby’s question brought Kade out of his trance. He peered up into heavily decorated eyes that undoubtedly had seen and recorded much in their time.

“Get many soldiers through here, I mean with all the trouble these days?” He tried to sound casual, but the narrowing of Ruby’s eyes indicated she saw right through him.

“No, can’t say as we do. Can’t say as I miss ’em none, either. Don’t have much need for men like that.”

She waited patiently as silent seconds slipped by. “That China woman understand English?” Kade realized his hands gripped the bottle and glass so tightly, his knuckles had whitened. He released his victims.

“Min Li? Sure, but don’t expect her to talk back to you. I ain’t heard her say a word in twenty years.”

“Send her in here. And get me another bottle, if ya will.”

Ruby nodded and swished her way to the parlor doors. Kade heard her deep voice calling to the desk clerk. In no time, a timid Min Li stood quietly at his table. He gave her two gold pieces and specific instructions.

Then he sat back and opened his second bottle.

A knock at the door brought Carly away from her place by the window.

“Hello in there. It’s Clive, from downstairs. Got some hot grub here for ya.”

Piling her hair atop her head, Carly tugged on her hat, unlocked the door and stepped back to allow the man and woman to enter. He carried a large wooden tub. His tiny wife balanced a dinner tray, towels, and a package wrapped in brown paper. Clive placed his burden in the middle of the floor and stood with his hands on his hips.

“Never had anyone order a tub bath up here afore.” He motioned for his wife to deposit her load on the bed. “But it’s none of our business. Min Li has water heatin’. I’ll haul it on up in a bit. There’s stew and corn bread to eat and new clothes and shoes in the parcel. Cost yer friend a right tidy sum, but like I said, it’s none of our business.”

He seemed to wait for an explanation. Carly crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the tub. Obviously realizing he’d learn nothing from her, Clive started toward the door.

“Well, guess I’ll see to that water now. There’s soap and a comb there with the towels. If you need anything else, just say the word.” He paused once more at the door, then reluctantly turned and left when no conversation ensued.

Carly hurried to the dinner tray. She had no idea why Kade had arranged all this, but if she was going to get a hot bath, she wanted to be finished eating and ready for the water when it arrived.

Steam danced on the surface as Carly scrubbed herself clean for the second time that day. She just barely fit in the washtub. The heat did wonders for her sore, tired muscles. Her skin glistened bright red from the hot water and harsh soap. But she didn’t care. She hadn’t felt this good since before she’d left Virginia.

The dinner had been tasty and filling. Sturdy new clothes lay across the bed. Kade had even thought to include shoes. The ones Carly had been wearing were too large and caused blisters to form on her tender feet. She preferred soft slippers and a dress of Chantilly lace, but the dungarees would prove more suitable until she reached her aunt.