The Redemption of Jake Scully (14 page)

The shadows surrounding her began moving.

They started toward her, and she ran.

She heard pounding, footsteps following her.

She heard ragged breathing coming closer.

They were right behind her!

“Help me! Help me!”

“Wake up, Lacey!”

Lacey awakened with a start. She gasped at the shadow leaning over her bed, her heart pounding.

“Are you all right, dear?”

Lacey attempted a calming breath. She recognized the soft voice even before she her gaze penetrated the flickering light. It was Mary.

“I heard you calling for help. I thought you were sick, but you were having a nightmare.”

“I know.” Lacey breathed more deeply. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, that’s all right. I’m here whenever you need me.” Mary’s tone was motherly as she probed gently, “You seem so restless at night. Are you bothered often by those frightening dreams?”

“Just sometimes, but I’ll be fine, now. Please, go back to bed. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“It isn’t because you don’t feel safe in this house…I mean, you do know no one can hurt you here, don’t you? Scully was concerned how you’d do here, but I reassured him that you’d be fine, that I’d look out for you.”

“I
am
fine. These are just dreams left over from my childhood. Scully understands that, but please don’t mention it to him. I don’t want him to worry.”

Mary’s face moved into lines of concern. “I think I know Scully better than most of the people in town because I’ve known him since he came here with only a few dollars in his pocket and a sack full of determination. He was living in this boarding house when my husband died. He helped me in so many ways, although he wouldn’t especially like it if he knew I’d told anyone about it. He’s a fine man, even if there are some in town who wouldn’t agree.”

“I agree.”

“I know you do, dear.” Mary smiled, then said, “Would you like me to get you anything before I go back to bed…some tea, perhaps?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Well, if there’s nothing else I can do for you now, just call me if you should need me.”

“Thank you.”

Lacey closed her eyes when Mary pulled the door shut, taking the flickering light with her. She let out a shaken breath. The nightmares were worsening, becoming more frequent and more terrifying. They were changing in ways that she couldn’t quite define.

She didn’t understand the reason they continued to plague her.

She didn’t know how to handle the panic they stirred.

Lacey brushed away the tear that squeezed out from underneath her closed eyelids.

And she didn’t know how to make them stop.

“You’re looking mighty pretty this morning, Lacey.”

Lacey forced a smile for Todd’s benefit. He had been sitting at a corner table waiting for her to make her way across the crowded restaurant floor toward him. She had not been particularly efficient at her job after the sleepless night past, and he had been extremely patient, as had Sadie’s other customers. But she was not patient with herself.

Lacey withheld the sudden rush of tears. She was a fraud. She had taken on adult responsibilities, but it was all a pretense. She couldn’t even defend herself against her own childish dreams.

“Lacey…?”

Lacey snapped back to the present. “I’m sorry, Todd. What can I get for you this morning?”

“The usual.”

“Bacon, eggs, some of Sadie’s fine biscuits and coffee.”

“Right.” Todd reached for the hand Lacey rested on his table. He held it lightly for a moment, his expression earnest. “I’ve been missing you these past few days, Lacey. I was wondering when we would get to spend some time together again—maybe a picnic. The stage won’t be running this Saturday and my boss won’t need me.”

“Saturday…” Lacey raised her palm to her forehead. She was perspiring. It was so warm. She shook her head. “I can’t really say. I have some things to do.”

“Maybe if I talk to you later on in the week.”

“Yes, maybe then.”

Lacey made a fast retreat to the counter where Sadie seemed to be laying out filled plates with astonishing speed. She placed Todd’s order there, then glanced at the door and heaved a sigh of relief when Scully walked in and sat at his customary table. The sight of him somehow calmed her.

“Lacey…”

Lacey turned at Sadie’s summons.

“Jack’s steak, and Shorty’s ham and eggs are ready.”

Lacey delivered them to the waiting customers. Endless moments passed before she reached Scully’s table, but he wasn’t smiling. His expression spoke for itself.

Anticipating his comment, she said, “Good morning, but don’t say what you’re thinking. You don’t have to.”

“You don’t look rested.”

He had said it.

Ignoring him, she asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

“Hotcakes and eggs? Do you want ham, too?”

Scully glanced at Todd’s table and frowned.

“Don’t look at Todd like that. He certainly isn’t the one who’s exhausting me.” Realizing she had made an admission she hadn’t wanted to make, Lacey said, “All right, so I’m tired. Maybe I just work too hard.”

“Maybe.”

Scully was still searching her face with his sober, gray-eyed stare. Its touch was almost palpable as it brushed her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. She felt a sudden rush of heat as it halted briefly on her lips.

“I’ll get you your breakfast.”

Lacey beat a hasty retreat from Scully’s table. He was going to ask questions again, questions she didn’t want to answer.

But questions or not, Lacey’s heart was pounds lighter when she reached the counter. Scully was there. That meant everything would be all right.

She had deliberately ignored his questions. She was telling him in so many words he didn’t have the right to ask them.

She was slipping away from him.

Scully sat at the table as Lacey hurried back to the counter at Sadie’s summons. He glanced at Todd. There was no mutual exchange of friendly greetings when their glances met. Todd resented his association with Lacey. He admitted to himself for the first time that the feeling was mutual.

Scully considered that spontaneous thought. Actually, he had always considered Todd Fulton a nice fellow, but it bothered him that Todd might be the reason Lacey had begun shutting him out. He also knew it was unrealistic of him to think Lacey would always remain as close to him as she had been that first week after she arrived in Weaver. While living upstairs in the room near his at the Nugget, his had been the first face she had seen upon awakening, and the last face she had seen at night. It hadn’t mattered to him that the reverse hadn’t been true for him. As many familiar faces, both male and female, that he had seen before his long night was over, Lacey’s was always the last face he saw before closing his eyes at night.

It was a beautiful face, all the more endearing for the unspoken bond that had existed between them from virtually the first moment she had returned home.

Yet although he still saw Lacey every morning and they were again eating their evening meals together, he still sensed a subtle distance between them. Lacey was holding something back. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it weighed heavily on her mind. He felt it. It was part of the bond they shared…innate…a part of him, just like Lacey, herself.

Those thoughts remained on Scully’s mind as he finished his breakfast. Without any further reason to remain, he placed his coins on the table and left with a tip of his hat to Lacey and Sadie alike.

He had been late arriving at the restaurant. He had stopped at Sheriff Connolly’s office to drop off Riley Martin’s gun and tell him what to expect. Riley was no stranger to the sheriff. Scully’s mouth twitched wryly with the admission that he wasn’t, either.

“Scully, wait a moment!”

The familiar voice turned Scully toward Mary McInnes as she hurried toward him. She glanced at the restaurant, then drew him out of its view and away from the early morning sidewalk traffic as she said softly, “I wouldn’t want Lacey to see me talking to you.”

Scully went still at Mary’s anxious expression. His heart began a sudden pounding.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I didn’t mean to frighten you, Scully.” Mary hesitated, then continued in a rush, “I’ve been debating whether I should talk to you about this for days, but last night—”

“What happened last night?”

Mary’s lined face grew earnest. “I suppose you know about Lacey’s nightmares.”

Scully did not reply.

“They’re probably nothing new to you, since Lacey’s obviously been having them for a long time. The only thing is…”

Scully waited with growing impatience as Mary floundered. He prompted, “Lacey’s always had the nightmares, since early childhood.”

“They’re getting worse. She cried out so loudly in her sleep last night that I went in to make sure she was all right. I don’t think anyone heard her but me, since her room is on the first floor close to mine, but she was terrified, Scully.”

“What did she say?”

“She said the nightmares weren’t a problem. She was fine.”

Of course.

“But she isn’t fine. She’s reliving that night when her grandfather was killed, and the dreams are becoming more intense. I could tell by her reaction to them. Something’s bothering her, something she doesn’t quite understand herself. She won’t talk to me, Scully, but she trusts you implicitly. I think she’ll talk to you if you try.”

“I’ve tried, Mary.”

“Then maybe there’s something else you can do. She’s a lovely girl, but she needs help.” Mary hesitated again. “I didn’t want to burden you with this. I know Lacey is close to the scriptures and she depends on them to console and guide her. I know for a fact that she’s spent time talking to Reverend Sykes, but I don’t think she feels as close to him as she does to you.”

Scully said abruptly, “I’ll take care of it, Mary.”

“I hope you’re not angry.”

“No.”

“If you choose to tell Lacey that I spoke to you, please tell her it was because I was concerned for her welfare.”

“Lacey knows that. I know it, too. Thanks, Mary.”

Scully watched as Mary returned to the boarding house. When he turned back toward the Nugget, his decision was made.

Blackie grasped Barret’s arm, halting Barret on the street as he returned from his afternoon meal at home, and Barret struggled with soaring anger. His housekeeper had been particularly friendly upon his noontime arrival—her first offense. He had fought to conceal his contempt for her pride in the unimpressive dessert she claimed to have prepared especially for him.

The woman was as common as everyone else in Weaver, as were her culinary efforts. They would not have been considered fare fit for pack beasts at the gourmet restaurants he had frequented in San Francisco—restaurants he was
determined
he would patronize frequently again.

He had emerged back out into the afternoon sunshine and started toward his office with that resolution fresh in his mind. Blackie’s unexpected appearance had not improved his disposition, and the touch of the fellow’s less-than-clean hand on his arm had soured his disposition further.

Barret snapped, “Take you hand off me, Blackie. This isn’t the place for us to discuss business.”

Blackie’s hand fell back to his side. Barret did not miss the dark look the man shot him when he said, “I went to your office, but you wasn’t there. You wanted Larry and me to tell you more about what Lacey Stewart was doing at that church—”

“Be quiet, you fool!” Barret glanced around them, then continued, “Wait until we get back into the office.”

Barret’s lips twitched with anger at the sound of Blackie’s footsteps following him on the boardwalk. He turned toward Blackie the moment the office door closed behind them and warned, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Accost me on the street.”

“Accost…what are you talking about? I was just doing what you pay Larry and me for.”

“I don’t pay you to announce to the world that you’re watching Lacey Stewart for me.”

“Nobody heard me because nobody was listening.”

Barret ground his teeth with frustration, then repeated, “Don’t ever do that again, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“What did you come to tell me?”

Blackie’s bearded face darkened. “You wanted to know what Lacey was doing with those two saloon women at the church.”

“So?”

“She’s teaching them to read.”

Barret did not immediately respond.

“And write.”

Barret shook his head. “There has to be more to it than that.”

“She reads the Bible to them, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Larry sneaked up to the window and peeked inside while I watched to make sure nobody saw him. He listened long enough to get a good idea what they was doing.”

“Larry is stupid. He isn’t capable of understanding the subtleties of situations. He’s missing something.”

“No, he ain’t. He said those saloon women was working hard trying to write, even if he figured they was wasting their time.”

“Wasting their time?”

“Like they need to know how to read or write with the kind of work they do. Besides, Larry and me don’t know how to read or write, and we’re doing fine.”

Barret stared. Blackie truly was an imbecile.

Barret questioned, “When Larry was listening, did he hear Lacey ask the women any questions, or tell them she wanted them to find out anything for her?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure? Did you ask him?”

“Larry said they was learning to read and write. That was all.”

Struggling to retain his patience, Barret asked, “Why didn’t Larry come here himself and tell me what he heard?”

“He’s watching Lacey, like you said—not letting her get out of our sight.”

“You could’ve remained behind to watch Lacey so he could come.”

“Yeah,” Blackie sneered, “but Larry didn’t take a bath yet, so he sent me.”