The Law and Miss Penny (27 page)

In a voice as stiff as his suddenly rigid spine, he said, "I guess talking about a future together was pretty presumptuous of me, now that I think about it. Besides"—he managed a small chuckle, trying to put her at ease—"you have big plans for a future in the business world. I expect if you're looking to throw in with anyone, it'll be a lawyer or a doctor when you get to New York."

He may as well have said, "Now that I think about it, I believe I do have a wife waiting for me somewhere." Tears burned her eyes, but Mariah refused to let them fall. Hadn't she brought this on herself? "Massachusetts," she whispered.

She'd spoken so softly, Cain hadn't quite heard the word. "What?"

"Massachusetts," she said, firming up the timbre of her voice along with her conscience. She may not have had the guts or whatever it took to tell Cain who he was and what he'd been, but Mariah had to make certain he knew that she didn't expect a future with him. It was one thing for her to dream that he'd never regain his memory and be hers forever, but quite another to drag him into that fantasy.

"The Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Company is in Lynn, Massachusetts. If I'm going to catch the eye of a lawyer, I suppose it'll have to be one of those Harvard fellows from Boston."

"Right. Harvard." Cain laughed, the sound hollow, and wondered how things had gotten so completely turned around.

* * *

While the members of the Penny troupe were filling their barrels with mineral water from Trimble Springs, Artemis brought Tubbs into Naegelin's stables. He pointed out what Mariah had done to the stray he'd found running loose on the range.

"What the hell, kid," Tubbs said, fingering the animal's once flaxen mane. "How'd she get his hair this color?"

Artemis laughed. "She and her ma rubbed mud on him, and when me and Cain got back from the store, Big Red was red all over."

"And you really do think he belongs to the marshal?"

"The marshal?" Artemis scratched his head. "Oh, you mean Cain?"

"That man is Morgan Slater, a United States marshal, and don't you forget it again for one minute." Concerned that Artemis was no longer concentrating on his job, Tubbs grabbed him by the collar and shook him. "Well? Is this the marshal's horse, or not?"

"Is, I think. Is." Tubbs released his shirt and gestured for him to go on. Speaking rapidly, Artemis related all that he knew. "Big Red started talking to him like they was old friends the minute he first seen him, and Cain—the marshal—was kinda staring back at him with one of them 'ain't we met somewheres before' looks. Sure enough seemed like this was his horse to me. It give me the creeps, the way Big Red carried on, I kin tell you that."

The idea gave Tubbs a lot more than the creeps. It confused the hell out of him. "Why would the woman want to keep the identity of this horse a secret from the sheriff? I thought he was using their medicine show as a cover, and that they knew he was a U.S. marshal."

There were too many questions and too many facts coming way too fast for Artemis. He scratched his head and truthfully answered the statements he understood. "Miss Mariah said she wouldn't tell Cain about the horse because he'd hang me as a horse thief if he found out Big Red was his. She likes me, and gave me money to buy all the newspapers every day, too."

"The newspapers, kid? Why do you do that?"

"Cause of Cai—the marshal. She don't want him reading stories about us."

"Us?" The veins in Tubbs's neck bulged. "Which 'us' are you talking about."

Artemis began to back away, but he wasn't nearly fast enough. Tubbs caught up with him and dragged him into the empty stall next to Big Red's.

"Answer me, kid, and do it now, or I swear this will be the last breath you ever draw."

"Us, the Doolittles, but she don't know who we are. I swear she don't, Tubbs. Let me go."

He did, but he kept his body directly in front of Artemis, blocking his escape route. "What does she know about the Doolittles, kid? Take your time and repeat her exact words, if you can."

Artemis let his breath out on the tail end of a shudder. "She just knows what we heard in the sheriff's office, I guess—that Marshal Slater is tracking the Doolittles and that some folks thinks they might have killed him. She ain't never said another thing about them to me. Just to keep my eye out for anyone who might want to hurt Cain."

Sorry now that he'd sent the final confirmation wires to both Silverton and Mancos, Tubbs smashed his right fist into his left palm. The wheels of the plan were too far in motion to stop them now, and he had no real proof that their lives or the job were in jeopardy, but still; this business with the horse, along with the Indian princess and her newspapers, gave him more than a little cause for concern.

Speaking calmly, choosing his words carefully, he said, "Sorry if I got a little rough, kid, but we can't take the chance of something ruining our job now, can we?"

Artemis shook his head.

"Then tell me a little more about this princess. Is she working with the marshal, you think?"

Artemis had never thought of that before, so he had to consider the possibility a while before he answered. "Don't know, Tubbs. Like I said, all she asked me was did I know what the Doolittles looked like, and then told me to make sure they didn't go sneaking up on Cai—on the marshal when he weren't looking."

"That sounds to me like she is working with him."

Again, Artemis had to shrug. "I don't see how she could be. She's a girl. What could she be doing for him?"

Tubbs, who'd ridden with Quantrill during the war, was very aware of how useful and effective a woman could be when put to work in the name of the law. He'd had more than one narrow escape from Pinkerton's female operatives. And he wasn't in the mood for any more. "Why'd she want the newspapers?"

"So the marshal wouldn't go reading about himself getting killed, I guess. She didn't say."

Tubbs stared at the kid a long moment, piecing together all the information he'd been given, trying every which way to make it fit into a pattern he could understand, but no matter how he looked at it, he always wound up with more questions than answers. There were just some things, he decided, he'd have to find out for himself.

"Here's what you're going to do, kid," Tubbs said, staring him right in the eye. "First, you've got to sell that horse. Go to Naegelin, tell him you're desperate for money and have to sell him today. Be sure you get rid of him before those show folks get back to town, understand?"

Although he hated the idea of parting with his high-stepping friend, Artemis nodded. "Sell Big Red. Got it."

"Then comes the important part." He moved closer, taking Artemis by the lobe of his ear. "I want you to listen real good from here on out, kid, because we can't take any more chances around the marshal or that princess. You listening?"

Artemis nodded carefully, but rapidly.

"Good. Tell me a little more about that Indian princess. What room is she in at the hotel, and when do you expect her to come back?"

* * *

By the time the Penny troupe returned from Trimble Springs, it was late in the evening. After all four of them had taken long, private mineral baths, they had decided to partake of their supper at the resort. Though she hadn't felt particularly festive, Mariah had even worn her new hat into the small but fashionable restaurant, drawing oohs and ahhs from both Zack and Oda.

Now back at the Strater, all Mariah wanted to do was go to the privacy of her room and sleep. She said good night to Cain in the hallway in full view of both her parents, and then slipped into her room. That was when a sudden sense of danger came over her, a feeling that she wasn't entirely alone. She quickly lit the small lantern on her dresser and glanced around the room. She was the only occupant, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

With only a soft glow illuminating the corners, she slowly strolled around her room. Nothing appeared to be out of place, and the windows were closed tight, yet still she felt a deep sense of violation, of invasion. She tore open the drawers of the dresser and stared down at her clothing. Everything was neatly folded, all there as far as she could tell, and yet...

Since Mariah had been a small child, she'd always taken extra care in folding and stacking her handkerchiefs, piling one atop another like a perfect wedge of seven-layer cake. Now her confection of hankies was decidedly lopsided, the corners mussed and twisted. She never would have left them in such a state.

She heard something then, a squeak or a whimper, and turned this way and that before realizing that the sound had come from under her bed.
Daisy!
Mariah hurried across the room, fell to her knees, and lifted the coverlet. Her little dog was huddled into a ball, and shaking like a bowlful of tapioca.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here." Mariah opened her arms, and the little dog raced to her. Once she examined the animal and found her unharmed, she gathered Daisy against her bosom and began to rock back and forth on her heels.

Someone had been in her room, of that she had almost no doubt. Someone who'd frightened Daisy half to death, riffled through her drawers, and did God knew what else. Although Mariah's first impulse was to race from her room and into Cain's arms, she forced herself to remain still. If Cain, or even her parents, knew what she suspected, the first thing they'd do was call in the law. The sheriff would then recognize Cain as Morgan Slater. And that would bring her fantasy of a life with him to a complete and utter end.

Besides, she thought, rationalizing her decision from every angle she could think of—what if she were mistaken? Something else could have frightened Daisy enough to send her hiding under the bed. A gunshot, a clap of thunder, loud voices—any of those things, even though Mariah had heard none of them herself. As for her dresser and the disorderly pile of handkerchiefs, she supposed she could have mussed them up herself and not noticed. After all, the only thing she really paid any attention to these days was Cain, was it not?

Mariah laughed to herself, forcing a lighter mood. She'd probably jumped to conclusions by assuming that an intruder had gone through her things. Why would anyone be interested in anything Mariah Penny or Princess Tanacoa owned in the first place? It didn't make sense. She had no jewelry, no exorbitant amount of money, nothing of any value to warrant a search of her room.

After taking Daisy for a short walk outside, she decided to keep her suspicions to herself. It wasn't as if she was in any danger, especially if she took a few simple precautions over the next two nights. And once they got to Silverton, everything would be all right again—including the rift she'd felt between Cain and her since his talk about their "future."

But as she wedged the Queen Anne chair up under the doorknob, securing her room for the night, something in her gut told Mariah that she was a fool.

Chapter 14

Two days later, Tubbs sat on the edge of his sagging mattress at the Last Stop Hotel, going over the final plans with Artemis. Within the hour, they would both board the Denver & Rio Grande for the trip to Silverton, and once they were on the train, their contact would have to be kept to a minimum.

"Then you want me to sit with the marshal?" Artemis asked.

"Close by will be good enough. Just so you don't have any trouble finding him when I give the signal to bring him back to the last car. Remember what you're supposed to do?"

Nodding, Artemis said, "You're gonna signal that you're ready for me to bring the marshal back to you by bumping into me when you walk by."

"And why is it so important for you to choose your seat carefully?"

"'Cause you can't bump into me unless I'm sitting on the aisle."

"Good. Real good. Then what do you do?"

"Then I tell him I got something to say to him that needs to be said real private-like. He gets up and follows me to the car, where you'll be waiting on the step outside the door." Tubbs hadn't explained things any further than that, but Artemis remembered what they'd talked about when they'd first found Cain in Durango.

Worried about the life of his new friend and hero, he said, "Er, w-what happens after I bring him to you? Can't we just talk to him a little?"

"No, Artemis, we can't. You know we got to take him out, and you know why."