On the Edge of Forever

by Cat Cahill

  She shivered and stepped over her soiled clothing to the wardrobe, resolving to set such worrisome thoughts aside for now. Thanks to her waitressing salary—and having no family to send it to—she’d been able to purchase a few ready-made dresses in Cañon City. None of them were particularly fancy, but they were more than she’d had when she arrived. She selected a pretty blue gingham that reminded her of the spring sky.

  With this dress on, her hair freshly brushed and repinned, and a smile upon her face, Edie thought she looked more like the girl who’d been offered and accepted the position of Gilbert Girl than the scared young woman who’d snuck out of her family’s home late at night with nothing but a small carpetbag, a few borrowed bills, a forged letter of reference, and a desire to leave Kansas as quickly as possible.

  She’d worked hard to become Edie Dutton, and she intended to remain Edie Dutton for the rest of her days. And that meant she needed to avoid Deputy Wright at all costs, even if he was the most handsome man who’d ever arrived in Crest Stone. And she certainly had to forget the way he’d smiled at her as he’d taken in her face, even when the rest of her was covered in mud . . .

  The very thought made her heart trip a little faster.

  Edie frowned at herself in the small mirror she and Beatrice kept on the vanity table. Feelings like that toward any man would cost her the position she’d worked so hard for. Courting was forbidden for Gilbert Girls, and she only need look at her friends who’d since married to see the truth in that. But worse, feelings like that toward a lawman could prove even more dangerous.

  She set down the mirror and sighed.

  It was impossible to outrun the shadow of a father who was the most wanted man in the state of Kansas.

  Chapter Five

  When he awoke several hours later, James held his breath until he was certain the pain in his head was gone. As he moved from sitting to standing and felt no ache at all, he was able to breathe again. Outside his window, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, but it couldn’t be too late since it hadn’t yet sent a spray of oranges, pinks, and yellows across the sky.

  James’s stomach grumbled, reminding him it was now time for supper. He smoothed his rumpled clothing, found his hat, and let himself out into the hallway. At the second-floor landing, he could tell he’d awoken just in time. People streamed through the lobby toward the dining room. The six o’clock from Santa Fe must have only just arrived.

  He moved quickly down the stairs to join them, but stopped in his tracks when a figure in a vibrant blue and white dress emerged from the hallway that branched off the lobby near the dining-room doors. That bright penny-colored hair shone in the lamplight, and she smiled as she listened to the chatter of her companion, a young blonde girl who was speaking nonstop. The copper-haired girl was Miss Dutton, who somehow looked just as radiant covered in mud as she did now in a clean dress.

  His feet took two steps toward her before he realized what he was doing. The very second she looked up, he took a hard turn to the right, into the room that housed the lunch counter. Despite its name, the lunch counter was open for supper, too. It served the men who preferred eating quickly and without the fuss of the dining room. Considering he’d only just arrived in town, James hadn’t been in this room before, but he now took a seat at the counter between a ragged-looking man and a railroadman whose clothes bore the evidence of soot.

  Turning, he snuck a glance back out the door, but Miss Dutton and her companion were long gone. He didn’t know why he’d avoided her in that way. Disappointment wafted through him, which was utterly ridiculous. He was in Crest Stone for one reason only—to maintain order as the town grew. And nothing about that required him to befriend a beautiful woman who carried books about plants in her pockets and who disappeared midway through a conversation. It was good he’d avoided her just now. Distractions would not serve him well.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” A woman dressed in the same gray and white as the waitresses in the dining room stood poised before him. “I’m Miss Barnett, and I trust you’re doing well this evening.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, and so James—along with the men on either side of him—nodded in agreement. Miss Barnett went on to tell them of the menu options that evening, and after placing an order for roast beef and potatoes, James decided to get on with his work and meet the men on either side of him. The more people he knew here, the better he’d be able to do his job. He’d learned that from his uncle years ago.

  He turned to the scruffy-looking man to his right. “Name’s James Wright. I just arrived in town today.” He’d also learned early on that people were more comfortable if he spoke with them some before telling them what he did for a living. His badge was hidden under the jacket he hadn’t yet removed.

  The man eyed him for a split second before, James assumed, deciding he was worth spending words on. “Caleb Johnson. Haven’t been here long myself. Hartley hired me on to build.”

  Hartley. That was the second time in a day James had heard that name. He’d meant to find the man earlier, before the blasted headache had made him take refuge in his room. “Certainly is a lot of work going on here. I met a few men working on the land office earlier.”

  “My crew is working on the bank.” Johnson nodded at the waitress, who was filling their mugs with steaming coffee.

  “A bank?” James furrowed his brow, trying to discern the point of having a bank when there were so few people in town. Although he supposed it would come in handy down the road, as the town grew.

  “According to Hartley, the fellow who’s opening it hopes to get business from the hotel and the railroad. There’s also the miners east of here, but between you and me, they’re broke the second they get paid.” Johnson stirred milk from the little pitcher the waitress left on the counter into his coffee.

  James picked up his own mug and blew on it before taking a sip. This was good information to know. If the hotel didn’t have a nearby bank where it kept its funds, it must be keeping them on the premises. They probably had a safe, but it still sounded like a dangerous proposition. He made a note to speak with McFarland again tomorrow. He also needed to ride out to the mining outfit at the base of the Wet Mountains at some point and make himself known to whatever lawmen that company had likely hired on to keep peace among the miners.

  “Once that land office opens, they’ll be doing a brisk business. Not to mention the other businesses that’ll be built soon,” James said.

  The man nodded. “More work here than up in Denver right now. The moment I heard someone was hiring on men to come down here and work, I signed up.”

  “You’re out of Denver?” James asked. Uncle Mark had told him years ago that people were more than happy to talk about themselves if you set them up with questions. He’d taken that to heart; knowing about people was crucial in his line of work.

  “Not born there—came from Wisconsin when I was young—but spent most of my life there. My pa was a railroadman.” The man sipped his coffee. “How about you? Passing through?”

  James shook his head. “I’m a deputy to the sheriff up in Cañon City. Just down here to see everything goes well as the town grows.” He watched the man out of the corner of his eye, an old practice that had alerted him on more than one occasion when a man had something to hide. But Johnson merely nodded and drank more of his coffee.

  But James only stared at his steaming mug, remembering the moment Miss Dutton had chosen to run. Was it a reaction to learning his profession? It was impossible to know for certain, considering he’d been turned away from her with that blamed headache when she’d taken off.

  Their meals arrived at that moment, and the scent of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and hot greens made it difficult not to begin shoving the food into his mouth as fast as humanly possible. James shrugged off his jacket and began to eat.

  After a few moments, Miss Barnett arrived across the counter, a rag in one hand. “How do you find the roast?”

  James swallowed. “It�
�s excellent, thank you.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Sheriff. I’ll be sure to tell the chef. He’ll be quite pleased.”

  James glanced down at his badge. “Deputy. Send him my regards.” Just as Miss Barnett was about to move on to the railroadman next to him, James was seized with a wild idea. “I met another Gilbert Girl in the town today.”

  “Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “Mrs. Ruby doesn’t allow us to walk alone past the tracks now that there are so many more men here.”

  He hadn’t meant to get Miss Dutton into any trouble—only to learn more about her. “She had come from the general store, so I’m certain her companion was inside.”

  Seemingly appeased, Miss Barnett nodded.

  “I didn’t catch her name,” he lied, “but I’m hoping you might be able to help me. She was small, reddish-brown hair, spectacles . . . .” He didn’t add that her hair shone like a coin, or how she smiled when she’d seen how he’d salvaged her book, or that he couldn’t stop thinking of her.

  “That would be Miss Dutton,” the waitress said.

  He’d hoped for a given name, but he supposed that would have to wait. “She had an interesting manner of speaking. Do you know where she comes from?” Another slight lie, as Miss Dutton didn’t have any sort of accent that he’d noticed.

  “Kansas, I believe.”

  He tried not to show surprise. “I also hail from Kansas.”

  Miss Barnett nodded and glanced down the counter at her other customers. He was keeping her from her work. Only one more question, and perhaps that would satisfy him. “I wonder why she would come all the way here.”

  Miss Barnett gave a small laugh. “Oh, we all have different reasons. Some girls only want an adventure, others need to provide for their families, and some want to escape their circumstances.”

  Which one was Miss Dutton? He pondered the possibilities as Miss Barnett narrowed her eyes just slightly at him.

  “Forgive me if I overstep,” she said, “but I feel I should inform you that in order to work for the Gilbert Company, we all sign contracts promising that we will not allow ourselves to be courted. To break that rule is to lose one’s position.”

  Immediate discomfort made James straighten in his seat. He didn’t know what had given Miss Barnett the impression that he wanted to court Miss Dutton, of all things. “I assure you that my questions are merely professional. It’s my job to get to know people.”

  She nodded her head, then gave him a slight, knowing smile. “You asked me nothing about myself.” And with that, she was moving down the counter to converse with her other customers.

  He stared after her, her remark echoing in his ears. He’d meant his questions to be professional, but were they? James returned to his food, chewing thoughtfully until laughter sounded from outside the door behind him. He instinctively turned, and upon seeing an older woman escorted by her husband, felt a strange hollow sort of sensation inside.

  It only took him a few seconds to puzzle out why—he’d hoped the source of the laughter was Miss Dutton.

  He sighed and speared the last of the meat with his fork as Mrs. Young’s words danced through his head again. Just don’t fall in love with any of the Gilbert Girls. He’d laughed at the ridiculous idea when she’d said it. But now, it was easy to see how such a thing could happen.

  What was wrong with him? He’d barely been in town a day, and he was already mooning over a woman. James pushed his plate aside. He’d only met Miss Dutton once, and she’d run away from him. Besides, he knew better. His uncle had allowed himself to be taken with a woman, and that had been his downfall. James refused to fall into the same trap.

  “Pardon me, sir, are you Deputy Wright?”

  James turned in his seat to see a boy of about fourteen or so, scrawny with a hat too big for his head, holding a folded piece of paper. “I am. And you are . . .?”

  “Christopher Rennet, sir. I assist Mr. Thomason at the depot with the telegraph machine. There’s a message for you.” The boy held out the neatly folded bit of paper.

  James stood and fished for a coin in his pocket, held it out to the boy, and took the telegram. Finished with his supper, he paid the waitress and returned to the privacy of his room. The message was most likely from Ben, and paying the cost of a telegram meant it was something important.

  James took a deep breath and unfolded the paper.

  Chapter Six

  Edie deftly carried two plates of steaming hot breakfast food through the dining room until she reached the small table in the corner. Two friendly faces glanced up at her when she arrived.

  “This looks delicious,” Dora said as Edie set the plate of ham and eggs in front of her. “Thank you.”

  “You should sit,” Emma said, nodding at a nearby empty chair. “Surely Mrs. Ruby won’t mind.”

  Edie smiled as Dora giggled. They all knew Mrs. Ruby certainly would mind. Edie could sit when she finished the breakfast shift, but not before.

  When Edie returned after checking on her other tables, Dora had finished but Emma had eaten only a small amount of her food.

  “Did it taste all right?” Edie asked. Emma needed to eat, considering she was expecting a baby in less than two months.

  “Oh, it was wonderful, but I can only seem to eat food in small amounts these days. I’m ravenous, and then promptly stuffed, all day long.” She looked longingly at the nearly full plate as she rested her hands on her stomach.

  Edie collected their plates. “Adelaide and I went to visit Caroline’s store yesterday. I can hardly believe all of those new buildings. Mr. Hartley must be busy.” Mr. Hartley had also built the hotel, before Edie arrived, and fallen in love with Emma. Edie had heard the story from the other girls time and again, but one fact had stuck in her mind—Emma had lost her position at the hotel when she and her now-husband were found out.

  “He is, but I’m happy for him,” Emma said. “Oh! I haven’t told you girls yet. He’s planning to build us a small home in town.”

  Dora clasped a hand over her mouth. “Does that mean you’ll be staying here?”

  “What about his building work?” Edie asked, holding the dirty plates. Emma’s husband traveled often to build all sorts of places. They’d only just returned to Crest Stone, and Edie was under the impression they’d move on again once he finished his work here.

  “He promised me at least a year,” Emma said. “We have the baby coming, and he’ll have plenty of work to keep him busy here for that long. By that time, I’m sure we’ll both be ready to see somewhere new.” She looked at her friend across the table. “Will Mr. Gilbert be building a home for the two of you in town?”

  “I’m not certain yet.” Dora glanced down at her hands. “He seems eager to find work away from the hotel, but he doesn’t know what he’d like to do instead. He has a head for business, so he could do anything, really.”

  “He could help you in your venture,” Emma said, a teasing note to her voice.

  Edie grinned as Dora shook her head, smiling. It amused them all to no end to picture Dora’s husband— the son of the man who owned the hotel—assisting with his wife’s soon-to-be mail-order bride idea.

  “I must be patient. He’ll figure it out,” Dora said. She reached over and laid a hand on Edie’s arm. “How are you doing?”

  It didn’t matter that they saw each other frequently; Dora always asked after Edie. It was touching, but also made Edie want to slink away as it never failed to bring her wrongs to mind. It was her fault that Dora had found herself held at gunpoint last December, her fault the hotel had almost needed to close, and her fault that Mr. Gilbert had needed to come here at all. Although, she supposed, that last part hadn’t worked out so badly, considering he’d fallen in love with Dora and married her.

  “I’m well, thank you. Although I nearly ruined one of Mrs. McFarland’s books yesterday. It’s a wonder—” She stopped midsentence as she noticed neither Dora nor Emma were looking at her. Instead, their attention had mo
ved behind her. Edie turned to see what had captured her friends’ interest—and nearly dropped the plates she held.

  It was Mr. Wright. Deputy Wright, she reminded herself. He stood just inside the dining-room door, and was motioning to her. Edie clutched the plates even harder. It couldn’t be her he wanted. She’d barely even met the man, and she certainly didn’t know him well enough to allow him to seek her out in a busy dining room while she was working. She turned back toward the table and forced herself to breathe normally.

  “Edie? I believe that gentleman is wanting to speak with you,” Dora said gently.

  “If he’d like to eat, he can find a seat like every other guest,” she said, her voice pinched.

  Dora and Emma exchanged glances. “Do you know him?” Emma asked.

  Edie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Yes,” she finally said. “Barely.”

  “Then perhaps you should do him the courtesy of finding out what he needs. Despite the garish manner in which he’s summoned you.” Emma gave her a little push on the arm.

  Other customers were beginning to notice him now. It wouldn’t be long before Mrs. Ruby came bustling out to discover what he needed. Edie decided speaking with him was a safer choice than letting him continue to draw attention. She drew in a deep breath and moved as quickly as she could toward the deputy.

  “May I be of assistance?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. She hated that she couldn’t treat him as she treated every other man she met. Why couldn’t she simply force herself to act normally around him?

  “I’d like to speak with you in private,” he said, his hat in his hands and looking every inch the assured lawman. Petrified or not, Edie’s mouth went dry at the very sight of him. Surely this man had a sweetheart back in Cañon City. He was far too handsome not to.