Texas Lonesome (14 page)

T
he hour was well past three in the afternoon, and Sidney couldn’t stay holed up in her room for one more minute. She pressed her hand to her middle, her empty stomach feeling as if it were filled with burning cinders.

How long before I keel over from lack of food?
She ached for a strip of jerky. A small apple. Anything!
A piece of sweet cherry pie.
She closed her eyes and smiled, thinking of Carmen’s favorite dish.

She hadn’t had a morsel since leaving Draper Bottom yesterday. Perhaps gently refusing to take anything from the McCutcheons wasn’t such a sound idea. The breakfast table had been covered with delicious-smelling fare, but she’d held firm. She’d not be beholden to the family that had tried to kill her father.

Dustin had tried his best to get her to accept a small loan so she could eat until her money showed up. Curse her foolish pride now. She’d eat her pride if she could, and enjoy every humiliating bite.

Her stomach gave a riotous rumble, as if agreeing. Several mouth-watering aromas had wafted through her open windows since she’d checked in, telling her someone, somewhere in Rio Wells—and probably a McCutcheon, no less—was eating and enjoying the fare.

This morning spent at the ranch felt like a year ago. The two McCutcheon sisters had generously provided her with a skirt and blouse, since her spare had been lost along with her money in the saddlebags of her runaway horse.

She lifted the hem of the mulberry-colored skirt and gazed at her own black riding boots. They weren’t the height of women’s fashion, but no one would see them under the skirt. She dropped the hemline, straightened the crisp white blouse, and then looked at the matching mulberry bow tied around her neckline.

She’d brushed her hair to a sheen, thinking the golden mass that reached to the middle of her back blasé in comparison to Madeline’s rich dark brown, or Becky’s pale blond hair, lighter than Sidney’s and much closer in color to Noah’s.

She needed a job. Something to take her mind off her own troubles.

Renewed with purpose, if not sustenance, Sidney left her room and ventured downstairs. Peeping into the Lillian Russell Room, the restaurant located inside the hotel, she was surprised to see a multitude of paintings of scantily clad women, many shockingly so. She took a moment in the quiet dining room, now empty of patrons, thinking the artwork attractive in an enlightened sort of way, which filled her with the pluck to forge ahead. When she had money, she’d take supper here and enjoy every moment.

Back in the lobby, the man behind the counter didn’t even glance up when she approached.

Should she ask him if he knew of anyone in town that was looking to hire? Where did a stranger go to find out? A church? The sheriff?

Surprisingly, none of the people she’d met so far had flinched much when they heard her last name. They’d been surprisingly welcoming. She thought of Cradle giving her a ride to the Rim Rock, and Stanton Drake personally bringing her the telegram she’d been waiting on, and then inviting her out for a meal.

I should have accepted.

But mostly, the McCutcheons surprised her—all of them from Dustin to his siblings, and even his parents. She’d expected scorn, but they’d been hospitable. Would the McCutcheons fare in Santa Fe as well if the tables were turned?

No, she wouldn’t ask the clerk about work. He might think her unable to pay and kick her to the street.

Sidney stepped out onto the boardwalk and walked with slow steps. From the post office across the street, she heard women’s laughter, and even the high-pitched giggle of a child. The brick sheriff’s office, the one they’d visited last night, was only two buildings over on her side of the street. She should start there.

She pulled open the door and looked inside. Vacant. Cool air rushed into her face.

Moving on, she continued toward the intersection where a black iron bench, two olive trees, an eye-level clock on a black pole, and a saguaro cactus dressed up the corner. A burly man dressed in farmer’s clothes sat on the bench, studying the ground between his boots. The way he leaned dangerously to one side made alarm bells go off in her head.

His bleary red eyes opened wide, and a crooked smile appeared on his face when he noticed her approach. Clasping his hands together in a gesture of happiness caused his massive biceps to strain against the fabric of his well-worn shirt.

“Frrrancine?” he slurred, his voice filled with thankfulness and awe. He struggled to his feet. “I’m sooorry for lying to ya. Please forgive your Billy Willy.” He grasped the clock pole to keep from falling. “I’ll swear off the bottle if you’ll let me come home.
Pleeeease,
Francine,” he sobbed. “Nothin’s the same without you. My life’s gone straight ta hell.”

Thunderous emotions stormed across his blotchy pink face. He held out a massive hand, and tears filled his eyes. Staying upright proved difficult, and he took an unsteady step in her direction.

A sudden urge to bolt punched Sidney in the gut. She glanced behind to see if indeed a woman named Francine had arrived to take
Billy Willy
home. No other woman in sight. As she’d presumed, he’d mistaken her for his beloved Francine.

In a split-second decision, she made for the first door she spotted, one that belonged to a cute little dress shop. Before
Billy Willy
was any the wiser, she dashed past him and slipped into the door, releasing a breathy sigh.

A young woman stood at the counter, speaking with an older lady. She was willowy with beautiful thick blond hair. The mass was piled loosely on her head, but the few tresses that had escaped streamed around her shoulders. A pencil stuck behind her ear looked out of place with her femininity.

The young woman glanced up and smiled. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said.

“Thank you, no rush,” Sidney replied, liking her mellifluous German accent.

Relieved to get past the drunken sot without incident, she looked around slowly, admiring the pretty bolts of lace and the stunning garment on the dress form. Waves of maroon velvet billowed to the floor, trimmed with golden cord. An unusual piece of art on the wall had been made from fancy buttons, sequins, and other shiny objects used to decorate a gown.

A sandwich sign outside the window told her she was in Lily’s Lace and More. Sidney assumed the pretty woman at the cutting counter must be Lily, for the name fit her to a tee.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Harbinger,” said the young woman. “With Mrs. Tuttle’s blue velvet gown to finish, and also the dress I’ve only just started for Miss Schad, I couldn’t possibly take on another project to finish in thirty days. Not in good conscience, anyway. I couldn’t deliver the garment on time.”

The woman patted her shiny forehead with a folded handkerchief, and her nose wrinkled in annoyance. “But, Lily
,
I don’t want any other designer. My gown
must
come from your shop. There has to be something you can do? Surely, a way must be found . . .”

Sidney straightened, her hand stilling in midair as she reached to feel a bolt of soft-looking velvet trim. She wasn’t eavesdropping, but in the minuscule shop, she couldn’t avoid hearing the conversation between the two ladies. She looked up and inched toward the counter. The poor girl looked wretched about having to turn away a prospective customer.

“Perhaps you can speak with Teddy Moore?” Lily offered. “As you know, he makes dresses, as well as—”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Harbinger cried, her nose lifting into the air. “I want something from a true dressmaker for my fiftieth anniversary celebration. Teddy is merely a tailor. If I can’t have you, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She pressed the hanky still clutched in her weathered-looking fingers to her lips. “Actually, Lily, I can’t believe you’re treating me in this manner. I’ve been your
best
customer since you’ve opened.”

Now standing close to Mrs. Harbinger, Sidney softly cleared her throat, and both women looked over.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but hear about the dilemma you’re in,” she said, giving Lily a knowing look. “This woman needs a new gown, and you need help in your shop to make that happen. May I offer you my services?”

Lily’s brow wrinkled into a frown, but a wide smile began on Mrs. Harbinger’s face that would have had the portly woman committed.

Sidney’s stomach pushed her on, imagining all the delicious foodstuffs she could afford once she’d put in a day’s work. “I’m available right now.”

“Hire her, Lily!” Mrs. Harbinger cried. “I need this gown, and you need the help.”

Lily hadn’t stopped staring at her throughout the conversation. She seemed to be taking her measure, calculating something in her mind.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “John and I usually talk over every decision. What experience have you had sewing clothes?”

Not much.
But when Sidney imagined the feel of a hot roast beef and gravy dinner weighing her stomach, her mouth watered. She needed this job, but she wouldn’t lie.

“Some. As a girl with my mother, and a little more with our housekeeper. I have several brothers, so I’ve darned more socks than I can count, and sewed on a multitude of buttons.”

Lily’s expression darkened. “So, really none at all with dressmaking?” The shopkeeper’s voice said everything. She needed someone with experience.

“I won’t disappoint you,” Sidney said quickly. “I’m a good, hard worker and a fast learner. If nothing else, I can cut a straight line if you have me cut out the pattern. How hard can that be?”

Lily tapped her finger against her lips for several seconds. “You might be surprised.”

“I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m sure you’re right, and sewing a beautiful creation takes time and talent. Just give me a try with this one dress—or this one day, if that arrangement makes you feel better,” she practically begged, looking at Mrs. Harbinger.

I’ll get on my knees if I have to.

“Oh, I forgot to say, I’m not here permanently, only for a couple of months at the most. Still, I’m in desperate need of a job for the time being. I’ll give you all I’ve got for the time I’m here, if you want me.” Sidney clasped her hands at her waist. “I promise; you won’t be sorry.”

“Do it, Lily!” Mrs. Harbinger said sternly, her gaze bouncing between her and Lily. She reached out and nudged the shop owner just above the elbow. “Hire her so I can have my dress. If you don’t, I just might cry!” The woman sucked in a deep breath, and her large bosom expanded.

Lily stuck out her hand. “How can I argue with that? You’re hired.”

Sidney inhaled as a huge wave of relief poured over her, as well as a good dose of uncertainty. Could she do as she’d just promised Lily?

Pushing away her doubts, she grasped Lily’s hand firmly. “Thank you. My name is Sidney, and I’m staying at the hotel. Room sixteen.” She glanced around. “What would you like me to do first?”

A
nxious to check on Noah, Dustin loped into the ranch yard a few strides ahead of the two riders he’d brought along as guards for the payroll, and then pulled his horse to a halt. Dismounting, he handed his reins over to the hired help, the twelve-year-old son of one of their ranch hands.

“Thanks,” Dustin said, almost smiling at the seriousness of the lad intent on doing his job properly.

Seeing the boy turn to lead away his gelding, Dustin stopped him. “Hold up. I need to get my saddlebags.”
And the men’s two weeks’ worth of wages.

Dustin slung the bags over his shoulder, thanked his men for their help, and then headed inside. Walking into his father’s office, he found Chaim comfortable in the chair by the unlit fireplace, and his father behind his large mahogany desk.

He plunked the money down.

“How’d it go?” Winston asked, his voice so neutral, his words sounded strange. The lines around his eyes had deepened, and he looked haggard. He wasn’t letting on, but this situation with Noah and Sidney had him on edge.

“No problems. I like Jorgensen; he’s a decent man. I think Rio Wells will see a lot of positive changes now that we’re rid of that thief who used to run the bank.”

Chaim looked up from the newspaper he was perusing.

Maria stepped into the room. “
Buenas tardes
,
Señor
Dustin. May I bring you the thing to eat?”

He smiled. Her English never improved, even after all the years working at the Rim Rock. He noticed the cups of coffee his father and brother were drinking.

“
Gracias
, Maria. A cup of coffee, if it’s already brewed.”

She hurried away.

“And what about the other business?” Winston asked. “The Calhoun girl? Is she holding true to her roots and causing trouble around town? I wouldn’t expect any different.”

Sidney was now
business
?

“Her name’s Sidney, Pa, and she was only a girl when this whole fuss started. I don’t think we can lay the blame at her door.”

Dustin wasn’t taking sides
. He wasn’t!
But, damn it, Sidney wasn’t responsible for her father’s sins. As irksome as she could be at times, no logical person could hold her accountable.

“But to answer your question, yes, she’s settled in the hotel, and they’ve given her credit until funds arrive from Santa Fe. She sent a telegram, but I didn’t wait for the reply. She should have funds soon.”

“Maybe,” Winston grumbled. “What if her old man personally brings the money? I don’t like the situation one bit. Dealing with that family in Kansas once a year is bad enough.”

Chaim nodded. “He has a point.”

“He wouldn’t go to that trouble,” Dustin countered.
But to spite Pa, he might.

Winston took a healthy hit from his mug and clapped it atop his desk. “She could’ve taken a loan from us, but she’s cut from the same cloth as her old man. Would rather make us worry about her than accept a little help. As they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He pointedly looked at Dustin, his lips crushed together in a straight line. “Don’t let that pretty face fool you, Dustin.”

“Me?” he barked out. “Why do you think that?”

“I just do.”

“Well, don’t. She wouldn’t take any money outright, but I left an envelope in the safe at the hotel with instructions to deliver it later tonight. By then, she’ll be good and hungry, and more than happy to accept.”

Winston grunted, gazing at him over the rim of his cup. His bloodshot eyes attested to a lack of sleep.

Maria returned with a tray full of goodies. The slender, forty-something woman had a way of walking that always brought to Dustin’s mind a ghost floating through a graveyard at midnight. Not because she was scary, but because her steps were totally silent, and her head moved along a perfectly straight plane as if her feet didn’t touch the tile floor.

She set the tray on a table under the window and turned in his direction. “Here are you,
señor
.”

“
Gracias
,” Dustin said.

“Thank you, Maria,” Chaim added.

She held up a finger, her eyes going wide. “You
niños
eat not too many. I prepare good supper.” Her stern tone couldn’t hide the amused twitching of her lips.

“What about me?” Winston asked playfully.

She just smiled and hurried away.

Dustin eyed the persimmon cookies with interest. Taking one, he put the whole thing in his mouth, the mild sweetness firing his taste buds. He chewed for a second, swallowed, and repeated the process.

“Have either of you seen Noah today? I paired him with Brick, and instructed Manolito not to let him out of his sight. You haven’t heard of any trouble?”

“The day’s been dead as a doornail,” Chaim said with a shake of his head. “I keep expecting Emmeline will walk into the room any moment. Doesn’t feel right around here at all.”

Dustin picked up another cookie and turned. “I’m headed out to the bunkhouse to check on Noah.” He glanced at Chaim. “Coming?”

“Naw.” Chaim raised the newspaper and shook out the pages, sticking his nose inside. “I’m plannin’ to sit right here until supper.”

This is worse than I thought!

“That’s a good four hours. Won’t you get bored?” Dustin would climb the walls if someone asked him to sit inside for more than ten minutes.

“I’m bored already, and nothing’s making me unbored until Emmeline returns. My life’s nothin’ without her.”