Authors: Beverly Long
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Time Travel, #time travel old west western
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Sarah could hear the heels of his boots on the wooden steps. In
seconds, she heard the front door close.
This time, when she pulled away from Suzanne,
the woman let her go. Sarah ran to Freedom’s side. She placed her
hand on the man’s cheek. The man blinked his brown eyes several
times. “I hate that mean man,” he said.
“Oh, Freedom,” Sarah cried and helped him
stand up. With her hand cupped around his elbow, she led him back
into the room, to the chair in the corner. Once she got him seated,
she whirled toward the two men. “How could you have stood there and
watched that happen?”
The one man stared at the floor. The other
shrugged his shoulders. “I ain’t gonna mess with Mitch Dority. Not
for the sake of some whore and a little darkie.”
Sarah thought she might explode. “You make me
sick.”
The man who’d been silent looked up. “Like
Dority said. People shouldn’t get involved in things that don’t
concern them.”
“Get out,” Sarah ordered. “Now.”
The two men shuffled out. Sarah shut the door
and hooked it, separating the three of them from the rest of the
world. She looked at Suzanne. The woman still sat on the floor next
to the bed, curled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her legs.
She had her head bent and her bare shoulders jerked.
“Freedom,” she said, not having any other
option. “Do you feel up to going to get the manager? And the
Sheriff, too? Can you do that?”
He nodded.
“No,” Suzanne cried, looking up. Her face was
wet with tears. “No Sheriff.”
Sarah took a step toward her. “Suzanne,” she
spoke softly. “What that man did is wrong. He needs to be
punished.”
“You don’t understand. Sheriff Armstrong is
gone for the next month. He left his deputy in charge. That man
won’t do anything. He and Dority drink together all the time.
They’re friends.”
Sarah rubbed a hand over her face. She
couldn’t remember ever being so weary. “Do you mean to tell me that
there’s no one who can help us?”
Suzanne shook her head. “The deputy will make
it impossible for me to stay in Cedarbrook. I don’t have any money
or anywhere else to go.”
“I’ve got twenty dollars,” Sarah said. “Take
it.”
“It’s not enough.”
“There has to be someone who can help
you.”
Suzanne shook her head. Sarah looked at
Freedom. He sat quietly on the chair, not disputing anything
Suzanne had said, as if he, too, accepted that people like Suzanne
and him didn’t deserve protection from those obliged to give
it.
“Fred,” Sarah said. “Fred would help
you.”
“No,” Suzanne said, fresh tears rolling down
her face. “I could never ask him. Oh my God, I don’t want him to
even know. He can’t see me,” she said, rubbing a hand over her
shorn hair.
Indecision tore at Sarah’s soul.
“Freedom, do you know who John Beckett
is?”
Freedom nodded.
“Do you know where he lives?”
Another nod. “Mr. Beckett pays Freedom for
helping when branding time comes.”
“Go get him. I need him.”
***
Within the hour, Sarah had Suzanne cleaned up
and tucked into Sarah’s bed. Sarah sat on the floor next to the
bed, her back leaning against the wall. She stared out the window,
waiting for dawn. She’d tried to sleep but every time she’d closed
her eyes, she could see Dority hitting Suzanne.
When she heard the quick knock, she jumped up
and ran to open the door. John stood there, still pale like the
last time she’d seen him, but nevertheless, looking capable and
solid. She felt like she couldn’t be strong one more minute. Her
own tears, the ones she’d kept at bay while she’d soothed Suzanne,
filled her eyes.
“Hey,” he said, pulling her toward him.
“You’re going to be fine.”
She realized it was the same assurance she’d
given Suzanne. She hoped like hell that she and John were both
right.
“I know,” she sniffled, unwilling to pull
away. She buried her face in his shirt and he wrapped his strong
arms around her. When he rocked her back and forth, his big hand
petting her back like one might a new kitten, she snuggled closer,
feeling warm for the first time in hours.
He stopped rocking, his hand stilled. He
moved just slightly and she could feel him pressed against her.
She spread her legs, just a fraction of an
inch.
He groaned and, with both hands, cupped her
bottom, pulling her even closer. She thought she might just die
from the pure pleasure of it. He was hard and thick and she
desperately wanted—
“Freedom got the horses taken care of, Mr.
Beckett.”
John jerked away from Sarah, his face red. He
looked everywhere but at her. “Thank you, Freedom,” he said, his
voice sounding hoarse. “You’ve been a big help.”
Freedom stood in the doorway, his hat in his
hand, looking at the two of them. “I guess you two know each
other.”
Sarah could feel that heat start in her toes
and skyrocket right to the tip of her head. “Yes. We’re… sort of
family,” she said.
Freedom raised one dark eyebrow but didn’t
say anything.
“How is she?” John asked.
“She’s been sleeping for about a half hour.
She’s going to be black and blue with bruises but I don’t think
there’s any permanent damage. Do you know Suzanne?”
He nodded. “I’ve seen her at the saloon.
Pretty lady.” John walked closer to the bed where Suzanne lay flat
on her back. “What happened to her hair?” he asked, sounding
shocked.
“He chopped it off. Just got the one
side.”
“That bastard.”
She could hear the hatred in his voice. “Do
you know Mitchell Dority?” she asked.
“He swings through town every once in a
while. I’ve never heard of him doing something like this. He’s
spends most of his time cheating the Indians.”
“Indians?”
“Yes. Sells them alcohol at a huge profit.
Goes right on the reservation, like he’s got every right to be
there.”
“He’s a friend of the deputy’s. Suzanne said
they drink together.”
“I don’t know if he’s a friend or not. Deputy
Lewis would drink with just about anybody who’d buy. I imagine he’s
a little afraid of him. Dority is good with his gun.”
“Yeah, well his knife work could use a little
improvement.”
John nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.
I’ll get you both something to eat on my way back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To see the deputy.”
“I don’t understand. If he’s afraid of
Dority, what good will that do?”
“I want him to understand a few things.”
“What?”
John shrugged.
“I need to know what’s going on,” Sarah said,
feeling like she’d lost control. “Tell me. Please.”
John didn’t say anything for several seconds.
Then he nodded. “It’s simple. I’m going to make sure that Deputy
Lewis knows that if he won’t arrest Dority, he better at least keep
him out of Cedarbrook. I don’t want there to be any
misunderstanding. If Dority comes within a mile of you or Suzanne,
he’ll have me to deal with.”
She almost started to cry again. Finally,
someone who had the guts to do something, to help them.
“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t know who
else to turn to.”
“You did the right thing.” He looked at her
and she knew, by the sudden look of longing that crossed his face
that he, too, remembered how it had felt to be plastered up against
her.
“John?”
He shook his head slightly, as if trying to
clear his thoughts. “You were my brother’s wife,” he said. “He’d
have wanted me to help you.”
“Is that why?” she asked, unable to help
herself. She ignored Freedom who still stood by the door. “Is that
the only reason, John?”
“That’s the only reason it can be.”
She felt the strength leave her body. “So
we’re going to ignore what happened earlier between the two of us?
When you held me? I should just forget it?”
“Yes, damn it. We’re both going to forget it.
That’s the only thing we can do.”
Rousting Frank Lewis’s butt out of bed made
John feel a little better. He made a perfunctory knock on the jail
door, waited mere seconds, and then walked in. The deputy, sacked
out in one of the two empty cells, opened his right eye.
“What’s this all about, John?” Lewis asked,
rubbing his hand over his face.
The man smelled like he’d taken a dip in the
beer keg. Had probably tied one on last night and decided it was in
the best interest of his thirty-year-marriage that he pretend
prisoners required his presence at the jail.
“Mitchell Dority made a mistake last
night.”
“What?” Lewis sat up on the cot, holding his
stomach like he thought it might try to get away. “Christ. I need
coffee. I feel like shit.”
“I’ll bet you do,” John said. “Maybe instead
of having your head inside a beer glass, you should have been
watching your town.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mitchell Dority beat the hell out of one of
the saloon girls last night.”
The deputy’s face, already pale, turned a bit
green. Probably the thought of having to arrest Dority wouldn’t
have set well even on a settled stomach.
The man stood up and walked, with short,
awkward steps, to his desk. He lowered himself down on the edge of
it, as if he wasn’t too sure how long he could remain standing.
“How do you know that?”
“He wasn’t too quiet about it. Sarah, my
sister-in-law, had the room next door. She broke it up.”
“Sarah’s back?” The deputy drew his bushy
eyebrows together.
“Yes. Just passing through.” He tried to
sound casual, as if it didn’t matter. But damn her, she’d managed
to get under his skin. Every time he expected her to revert back to
her spoiled and selfish ways, she surprised him with her
decency.
If she hadn’t been Sarah, he might have liked
her. Even though she was Sarah, he wanted to bed her. That
knowledge had kept him up the better part of last night. He
couldn’t figure it out. When Sarah had been married to Peter, he’d
never once coveted his brother’s wife. Hell, one morning he’d
walked in, she’d been stark naked, her back to the door, and he
hadn’t even felt a glimmer of lust. She’d screamed, he’d
apologized, and then he went on about his business.
Now, he thought, if he saw Sarah naked, he’d
start to heave and pant and beg like a needy dog.
She’d always been a beautiful woman. But her
bitterness and her greed had overshadowed it, stopping him cold.
Now, she seemed so much nicer. He couldn’t figure it out.
When Freedom had knocked on his door, he’d
been half-awake and half-convinced that he’d conjured up Sarah with
his thoughts. Freedom’s halting explanation of what happened had
sent painful spikes of rage and fear through him. He couldn’t abide
a man who beat up on weaker men and the thought of violence toward
a woman was unthinkable.
He’d gotten enough information from Freedom
to realize that Sarah had escaped unharmed. However, he knew the
kind of man that Dority was, and he knew Dority’s anger at being
stopped by a woman and a black man wouldn’t go unanswered. Thank
God she would be on the Wednesday stage. But that still left three
days for Dority to strike again.
That’s what had brought him to the deputy. He
wished like hell that Sheriff Armstrong hadn’t been called back
east. But the man’s mother had died. You couldn’t blame him for
going home, even if it did leave the citizens of Cedarbrook in the
hands of Deputy Lewis. The man had been deputy for at least twenty
years. He probably only had a few more in him. Sheriff Armstrong no
doubt hoped the man would retire sooner.
John didn’t care whether the man planned to
retire next week. In the meantime, he expected him to act like a
deputy.
“Where’s Dority now?” asked Lewis.
“Gone.”
The deputy’s red, weathered face relaxed. “I
see.”
“Aren’t you going to inquire about the
girl?”
“Which one was she?” the deputy muttered,
looking longingly at the coffeepot that sat on the cold stove.
“Suzanne.”
“The pretty one.”
John nodded. “Yeah, although she’s not
looking all that pretty right now. The man’s a cowardly
bastard.”
“Well, if I run across Dority, I’ll question
him about the incident.”
“Would that be before you have a beer with
him or after?”
“You hold on,” the deputy admonished. “You
got no right to be accusing me of not doing my job.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” John
said, his voice purposely agreeable. “I’m just telling you that I’m
going to be watching you and I’m going to be watching out for
what’s mine. If Dority comes near Sarah, he’ll deal with me.”
“I don’t recall you being all that fond of
Sarah. I remember some talk at the time she left that you were glad
she was gone. Your ma is friendly with my wife. Seems to me that
Sarah didn’t do all that well by you or your kin.”
“That’s none of your business,” John said,
hating it that people had been gossiping about his family.
“Just saying that maybe she’s not worth you
getting all excited about this.”
John badly wanted to slam his fist into the
old man’s mouth but didn’t, knowing that he could kill the man with
one good hit. “You just do your job,” John said, “and keep your
opinions to yourself.”
***
Going to see Deputy Lewis had convinced John
of one thing. He needed to talk to his mother. Now.
Every since Sarah had announced her plans to
go to town, John had dreaded telling his mother about her return.
He had no choice. He couldn’t take the chance that Sarah would hunt
down his mother, although she didn’t seem inclined to, or that, by
some twist of fate, Sarah and his mother would bump into each other
at Hooper’s Mercantile or the dressmakers.