Two Brides Too Many (13 page)

“I also have a letter that says we have a house.”

“Let me see those letters of his.” He put out his hand, his greedy palm up.

Kat showed him the letters. Nell prayed that her sister would receive good news.

“Doesn’t mean much to me.” He skimmed the letters and retrieved his cigar from the top of the can. “I don’t know anything about Paddy having a house. Wouldn’t believe it, if I were you.”

Kat looked over at Nell, her eyes watering.

Mr. Holt stepped behind the desk and pulled a tin box from a drawer. “As slack as Paddy was in his work, he still had some pay coming. Three days at three dollars a day.” He counted out nine dollars. “In my book, it’s the least the man owed ya.” He handed the bills to Kat.

“Mr. Holt.” Nell had tried to be patient, but she’d waited three days to talk to him. “A week ago this Monday past, you received a telegram for Mr. Judson Archer.”

His eyes widened and his fuzzy brows twitched. “You the one that came from Maine?”

Nodding, Nell let go of Rosita’s hand and stepped toward the desk. “Did you give it to him?”

“I would’ve, but he wasn’t here.”

“Oh.” That’s all Nell could manage to force out around the lump in her throat. Judson had worked here, but now he was gone.

“Ma’am, that one’s a different story.” The smaller man puffed on his cigar. “As upstanding as the working day is long. Went to Manitou Springs on family business. He’ll be back this coming week.”

“Oh, that’s good news.” Nell’s spirits lifted. “Thank you, sir.”

Judson Archer wasn’t a liar like Patrick Maloney turned out to be. And as soon as he returned, he’d read her telegram and call on her straightaway.

He will. Won’t he, Lord?

S
EVENTEEN

T
he wagon bumped down the hill toward town. Kat stared at one particular white cloud off by itself in a mostly blue sky. Separated from the other clouds, this one seemed adrift. Directionless. Aimless.

Why, Lord, why am I adrift?

Kat reached into her pocket and fingered the nine dollars the paymaster had given her. The money would help, and she was thankful for it. Certainly, the man didn’t have to give it to her. But it wasn’t a house, and it wouldn’t buy one. At best, it would buy her and Nell and Rosita a few more days at Hattie’s.

Of course Patrick had lied about having a home. That’s all he’d done from the beginning. Even the handwriting was a lie. She should’ve known better than to let anything in those letters build her hope.

Now what?

Weary of her own self-pity, Kat sighed. She was seeing her prayers for Nell answered, and that should be enough. Nell hadn’t stopped smiling since the paymaster’s endorsement of Judson Archer. The man had
a good reputation, and that counted for a lot. The best news was that the other man in Mr. Holt’s office said he’d return to town this coming week. Since this was Saturday, that could be as early as tomorrow.

As the horse clip-clopped down the hill and toward the depot, Kat took in a deep breath, drawing strength from Nell’s good news. She would set her own disappointments aside and concentrate on Nell’s imminent happiness and Rosita’s needs.

Lord, help me
.

Hammers pounded in the center of town and on the surrounding slopes as the cleanup continued. Horse hooves clomped and wagon wheels screeched against the rocky roadbeds. Men carried boxes and crates into wood sheds and tents that stood where piles of smoldering ashes lay just days ago. Others had stacked brick and mortar, rebuilding their barber shops and saloons with hardy materials, like the few original buildings left standing in the fire’s path.

As Kat watched Cripple Creek being rebuilt, renewed, and transformed, she asked that the Lord do the same in her.

“Girls! Over here, girls!” Kat recognized the singsongy voice as Hattie’s and glanced over at the makeshift boardwalk. The landlady waved from outside the combination mercantile and post office tent that had been set up during reconstruction.

Kat and Rosita returned her wave while Nell pulled the wagon over to the side of the road.

“We can walk to the telegraph office from here.” Nell climbed down from the wagon and lifted Rosita out.

Kat stepped up onto the boardwalk while Rosita helped Nell secure the horse to the hitching post.

“That house is pin-drop quiet with everybody gone.” Hattie
walked toward them. “Got so lonely I wrote a nice long letter to my brother and brought it right down to the post office.”

Kat pulled the telegram for Aunt Alma out of her pocket. “We’re headed to the telegraph office. If you’d like to take your wagon, we can walk home from there.”

“I just might take you up on that offer, but not before you girls tell me what you found out at the mine.”

“Judson didn’t get my wire because he is out of town,” Nell practically sang.

“How long will he be gone?”

“He’s returning this week.” Nell’s smile lit the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

“That would explain the shine in your eyes.” Hattie turned toward Kat. “And you?”

Kat sighed. “He doesn’t know anything about Patrick having a house. I should’ve known the man was lying about that too. I suppose I just—”

“And what about Paddy’s horse?”

“I didn’t ask. I’m sure he—or the woman who wrote the letters, I should say—lied about that too.”

“He did have a horse.” Hattie nodded. “A sorrel. I saw Paddy with it at Jesse’s Livery early last week.”

Kat cocked her head. “You’re sure it was his?”

“Oh yes. Jesse was in a mood to talk, and said Paddy owned the horse.”

More like Hattie was in the mood to talk and wouldn’t let the man be, but that didn’t matter to Kat.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to stop at Jesse’s Livery and ask about it.”
She turned to Nell. “We can go by there when we’re finished at the telegraph office.”

She might not have a husband or his house, but she might have the man’s horse. For right now, that would have to do.

Nell and Rosita followed Kat through the gaping barn door into the dark stable. Kat was a woman on a mission, and Nell tried to stay out of her way. Nell admired her persistence and desperately wished for good news for her, even if it was only a horse she could sell.

The livery smelled of manure. Nell pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and covered her mouth.

“You ladies need a wagon, do you?” The man tossing hay into a stall was huge—tall, and almost as wide around.

“Hattie Adams over at the boardinghouse told me to talk to Jesse.”

“That’s me.” He leaned his pitchfork against a post and hooked his thumbs on the bib of his dirty overalls. “I own the livery. If Miss Hattie sent you, I’ll give you the best I have available.”

“Thank you, but I’m not looking for a wagon. She said Patrick…er, Paddy Maloney may have left his horse here Wednesday before the fire.”

“He did.”

“I’ve come to claim it.”

“I’d like to oblige you, miss, but Ollie come by yesterday and claimed Paddy’s horse for payment. The man had a saloon tab longer than my arm.”

Kat’s shoulders slumped.

Poor Kat—another disappointment
. How many would her sister have to endure? Nell reached for Kat’s hand. “Thank you, sir.” Tugging on Kat’s arm, she looked around for Rosita and turned toward the door, but they both stopped cold when they saw the man who traipsed through the open doorway. He was the dirtiest man Nell had ever seen—from his mud-caked boots to a shaggy beard that looked to have been white. A mule followed him inside, carrying a whole shed’s worth of tools on its back.

He looked at Kat, then slapped his crusty overalls, sending a cloud of dust into the steamy air. “Well, I’ll be an ant’s eyebrow if it isn’t the little lady I seen on—”

“Mr. Hughes.” Kat dipped her head.

“You know this man?” Nell couldn’t imagine how her sister knew him.

“You’ve got pretty company today.” He laughed.

Nell felt a warm flush move up her face. Rosita darted out from behind a hay bale and ran to him. “Mr. Bo-ney.”

“My Rosita.” He pulled her into his arms and twirled her around, producing the most delightful giggles with each spin. “I’ve been worried mindless over you since I heard about your mama. Sick all the way to my dirty toenails about her, I am.”

“Me too.” Rosita leaned her head against the man’s shoulder. “’Cept I got clean ones. Miss Kat gave me a bath.”

He looked at Kat, his bushy eyebrows hiked. “You takin’ care of Rosita now?”

“For now. I’m trying to find her family.”

“That explains why you was lookin for Miss Sunny.” He nodded. “Mighty good of you to see to her.”

Kat nodded and gestured toward Nell.

“Nell, this is Mr. Boney Hughes.”

Nell dipped her chin in a greeting.

“This is my sister, Miss Nell Sinclair.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Removing his hat, the man bent in a half bow.

At least he knew better than to try and shake her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Hughes.” She wanted to say that she was pleased to meet him, but she wasn’t given to lying. “You were friends, you and Rosita’s mother?”

Chuckling, the man leaned toward the sisters and shielded his whiskered mouth. “Not that kind of friends, ma’am. Rosita’s like a granddaughter to me, though we’re not blood family.”

“Mr. Bon-ey? Can I sit on ol’ Sal?”

He tugged the mule over next to him and swung Rosita up onto the bedroll on its back.

“Mr. Hughes, do you know anything about Rosita’s grandmother?” Kat asked. “Did Carmen ever talk to you about her family?”

“Carmen mentioned having a mother in…uh. Now, where was it?” He scratched his head. “Santa Fe, I think it was.”

Nell’s heart quickened. The name of a town was at least something. “Where’s that?”

“New Mexico, ma’am. A couple hundred miles from here by rail.”

“Oh.” She stepped back. “That’s a long way away.”

“Yeah, but I can wire the sheriff over there for ya, if you’d like, and he can help us find her.”

“Yes, thank you.”

He placed his hat back on his heat at a cockeyed angle. “My pleasure.
Now you two here lookin’ for a horse? Ollie’s got a real fine one for sale.”

“We came here to ask about that horse,” Kat said quietly. “It was Paddy Maloney’s.”

His eyes wide, the man glanced at Kat. “He was one of them that died.”

Nodding, Kat drew in a deep breath, and so did Nell. “I came here as his intended.”

Mr. Hughes shook his head. “I’m awful sorry, ma’am.” He studied Nell. “And you, miss? You came to marry too?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Mr. Judson Archer.”

“Can’t say as I know him.”

“Did you know Paddy?”

“I did.” He spit a brown streak into the straw flooring. “I was in Ollie’s Saloon the night he won his place.”

“His place?” Kat straightened up.

Nell glanced at Kat and then back at the man. “Patrick does have a house?”

“Up in the foothills above town.”

“I have his letters stating he intended to marry me.” Kat reached into her pocket. “And one that says we have a home. I asked the paymaster out at the mine but he said he knew nothing about it.”

“Well, I know exactly where it is.” Boney finger-combed his beard. “And seein’s how he promised it to ya, it oughta be yours.”

“Can you take us there?” Kat asked, her eyes eager.

“Cain’t do it today. Gotta get back to my claim after my business with Jesse, but I can take you there Tuesday mornin’.”

“That’d be wonderful.”

Although Nell didn’t share her sister’s enthusiasm, she was grateful for the hope on Kat’s face.

Smiling, Mr. Hughes lifted Rosita off the mule. “Will you bring Rosita? Me and Sal love seein’ her.”

Kat nodded. “We’ll meet you here at the livery at 10:00 a.m.”

Nell found herself warming to the man. His particular variety of Wild West mannerisms was mysteriously endearing. And if God wanted to use him to help Kat, Nell would be there to cheer him on.

E
IGHTEEN