A door opened and closed. Footsteps came her way.
“Sorry, Miss Calhoun. No wire transfers since the one I mentioned three weeks ago.” He shrugged. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
She kept her disquiet contained. “No, thank you. I’ll check back in a day or two. Pa must have been delayed.”
With as much aplomb as she could muster and her head held high, she went out the door.
Should she send another telegram? One to Patrick this time. See if her second oldest brother would step in and help since Jock Jr. and her father were cut from the same cloth.
She couldn’t go on living on thirty-five cents a day. Her hotel bill was adding up. Everyone here would think her a fraud. Think all the Calhouns a fraud.
Was there more behind her father’s silence? He wouldn’t make the trip out to Rio Wells himself?
She pushed aside the outlandish thought as Dustin’s money in the hotel’s safe tempted her. Last Friday, she’d refused the envelope. Would she actually have to stoop so low? That thought fueled her anger, and she vowed that would never happen.
In a daze, she started for the shop, knowing the telegraph office was directly across the street. That would mean seeing Stanton Drake, who’d gone out of his way to hand deliver her telegram.
She stood facing the telegraph office, clutching her reticule. She had forty cents. The last time she used the services, the cost was fifty-five cents, which Dustin had paid.
She almost laughed, thinking how much she’d changed. She realized just how rich she’d been back in Santa Fe, spending a day’s wages on a whim. Well, she wasn’t home now, and she had things to do.
Sidney pulled open the telegraph office door.
Stanton Drake looked up. He recognized her, and a smile grew across his face. He stood, hurrying around the counter to meet her halfway across the room.
“Good morning, Miss Calhoun. I’m delighted to see you.” He gestured outside to Lily’s shop across the street. “On your way to work?”
“Yes, I am,” she said with a forced smile.
This had been a mistake. She wished she could march back out the door
He reached out and took her elbow. “What can I help you with? Would you like to send another telegram?”
What should she do? Were the prices set, and the rules couldn’t be broken?
“Yes, actually.” She glanced away from his hopeful face. “But I only have forty cents with me now.” Actually, I only have forty cents to my name. “I was wondering if that would be enough.”
His smile fell. “I only work here, Miss Calhoun. If it were up to me, I’d say yes. Forty cents is the base amount, and the cost goes up by the penny from there.” His expression begged for understanding. “I could lose my—”
“Oh no. Never mind! I don’t know what I was—”
The intense smile was back. He blinked several times and stuck his hand into his pocket. “I’ll give you the difference,” he offered, holding out a handful of coins. “I’d be happy to help.”
Embarrassed over the situation, she pushed aside her swirling emotions. “That’s very kind, but I couldn’t. I think you can understand. I’ll be back when I can pay in full.”
“There’s no need to wait,” he pleaded, and pushed his money-filled hand closer. “I insist.”
“No, no. But thank you for your kindness.” The last thing she wanted was to be beholden to another man.
Father, I don’t understand you.
Feeling totally deserted by her family, she smiled brightly and turned for the door, but Stanton Drake beat her there.
“If you change your mind, Miss Calhoun, remember I’m right across the street, just waiting to do your bidding.”
Emotion welled. She’d been keeping a strong countenance for days, counting on her father doing the right thing. Dustin’s face flashed in her mind. And then the money in the hotel safe.
No, she’d not use any of that. No matter what. She’d get through this predicament one day at a time.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chaim followed Dustin into the house, more than ready for the noon meal. By habit, he hung his hat by the door, his steps moving slowly, as if weighted by sacks of rocks from the quarry.
Over a week had passed with no word from Emmeline. No letter, no telegram. Four days after he’d put her on the train, he sent a cable to her house, needing to know that she’d arrived safely, but he’d yet to get a reply. That didn’t mean anything. No way of telling if the telegram had actually reached her.
With a heavyhearted sigh, he pulled out a chair next to Dustin in the dining room and relaxed back into his usual spot. His father followed suit. Savory aromas and voices floating in from the kitchen indicated the meal would soon be out.
Madeline and Becky hurried into the room. Becky went into the kitchen, and Madeline took her seat across from Chaim.
She glanced at her family. “What in the world is wrong with everyone? You look like you’ve lost your best friends.”
The three just sat there.
“Well?”
“Nothin’, darlin’,” Winston said. “We’re tired and hungry, that’s all. After we eat, we’ll have more energy. We’ve been ranching since early this morning.”
She huffed. “It’s more than that. Chaim, have you heard from Emmeline yet? I miss her. When is she coming back? Many decisions still remain for the wedding, and I don’t feel capable to make them without her, even if I am standing up as a witness. It’s a shame her family won’t be able to make the journey.”
Another point that had Chaim sinking in self-doubt. From the get-go, she’d flatly said the trip was impossible for her parents. He wondered why. They were well-to-do, from what he’d been told, and could easily afford two train tickets. They’d stay at the Rim Rock, so they didn’t need to worry about the cost of a hotel.
“Haven’t heard a thing,” he replied, reaching for his glass of water. He took a drink and set it back on the tablecloth, cutting her a look that said please stop with the questions.
Maria glided out of the kitchen with a tray of plates filled to the brim with food. She set one in front of his pa, Dustin, and himself. Becky was next, with two sparsely laden dishes for her and Madeline. She took a seat.
Winston looked around. “Where’s your mother?”
“She said to go on,” Becky replied. “She ate late this morning.”
Winston grunted, grumbled out a brief blessing, and put his napkin in his lap.
Chaim followed suit, trying to drudge up a bit of enthusiasm for what was on his plate. His appetite was nil. This morning at the corrals, his pa had questioned him on Dustin’s absence, and then sent him into town to fetch him back. He hadn’t said anything more about the Calhouns, but he hadn’t smiled much since their arrival. More disturbingly, he’d visited the saloon twice, which was completely out of character. Dustin returned without Noah, but his pa hadn’t asked any questions.
Whenever his sisters inquired about Sidney, his pa turned silent. Being a genius wasn’t needed to see Dustin had an eye for her. Chaim hoped his brother would keep a level head. Dustin might not talk about Sidney, but his preoccupation was a tell. A match with her would certainly bring trouble.
“What about you, Becky, darlin’?” his pa said. “How’s your day going? Tell us something nice.”
Strange way to put it.
“Theodore is coming to supper tomorrow evening, so Maria has granted me permission to help her prepare the meal. Theo has his doubts about my cooking. I plan to dazzle his socks off.”
Chaim just looked at his sister, and Dustin did too. To be young and in love again, unmindful of the pain that rips one’s heart into wheat chaff to be blown away by the wind.
How fast you’ve given up on your own love. Emmeline would be disappointed, Chaim thought as he angrily forked in a large bite of beef. Yeah, well, I’m disappointed too.
“He’s making sure he knows what he gets before he pops the question?” he a
sked bluntly.
“Chaim!” Becky stiffened, but she smiled so brightly into her plate, he was sure he was getting pretty close to the truth.
How would Madeline feel if her younger sister married before her? There wasn’t anyone in Rio Wells that caught his older sister’s fancy. Maybe she needed to take a trip and meet new people. She could only paint and do so many needlepoints before she went crazy. He knew the feeling.
He shoved in another large mouthful. Life. Women. The world . . .
“Sidney, would you mind going over to the mercantile to see if the thread I ordered two weeks ago has finally arrived? I’m almost out.” Lily held up Mrs. Tuttle’s blue velvet gown and gave the material a shake, examining her work. “I’m doubtful, though. I think Betty would have brought it over herself, but I want to be sure. Oh, and please turn the sign on your way out.”
“Of course, I’ll go right now.”
Truly, Sidney looked forward to stretching her legs. All morning and afternoon she’d been bent over, stitching one long side seam of Mrs. Harbinger’s new order. Fresh air sounded good.
Just as she was about to reach for the knob, the door opened. She quickly stepped back.
More Knutson girls! Actually, she wasn’t quite sure about that yet, because these faces were a bit different, older. They didn’t have on the similar blue dresses with the crochet points, but the hair, eyes, and build were the same.
“Hello,” Lily said. “May I help you find something?”
“Our father mentioned you had invited us to visit your shop. I’m Misti Knutson, and this is my older sister, Wendy.”
Sidney stifled the thought that popped into her head at the words, older sister, knowing that if the term spinster could be applied to this pretty twenty-one-year-old, the word most certainly applied to herself at twenty-four.
Lily came around her working counter. “I most certainly did! I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Please come in and—”
In came the other three girls Sidney remembered, followed by an older, darker-skinned woman. The nanny.
“Welcome, everyone,” Lily said, waving them all into the confined space. “This is a nice treat at the end of the day.” She sent Sidney a meaningful look that said to forget about the thread. She’d need her help here.
“That’s her,” Rainey whispered behind her hand to the nanny.
The words were just loud enough for Sidney to hear. The little hoyden was even so bold as to send her a smile. The girl’s inquisitive gaze traveled the walls, taking in everything in her path, landing on the beautiful piece of button art at the end of the cutting table.
“Hello again,” Sidney said to Sunny and Breezy, reaching for a degree of politeness. She was still put off by the earlier encounter.
She nodded at Rainey, but before she could greet her as well, the door burst open, smacking loudly against the wall. The Knutson flock, including the nanny, screamed at the top of their lungs and rushed forward in an effort to get out of the way of the intruder, almost knocking Sidney over. Her back caught the corner of the cutting table and jabbed painfully. She gasped.
The giant of a man who’d been sitting inebriated on the black iron bench her first day in town—and the same man Dustin had pointed out coming out of the back door of the saloon—stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing like the hot sun.
After a stunned moment of silence, Lily straightened to her full height. “Billy Burger, get out of this shop this instant!” she commanded with a stiff finger pointing toward the door. “Turn around and march out! I won’t stand for any of your shenanigans!”
“Francine,” he said with a snarl, “I told ya I wasn’t putting up with yer nonsense and highfalutin’ ways any longer! You’re my wife! What I say goes!”
Spittle sprayed and hit Lily in the face, which she quickly wiped away. Before anyone knew what he was about, he snatched up Mrs. Tuttle’s blue velvet dress from the cutting counter, and tore out the long seam down one side.
“Now you’ll learn a lesson you’ll not soon forget! No woman crosses Billy Burger! Not even you, Francine!”
Rainey, along with two of her sisters and the wide-eyed nanny, crouched in the dressing room, crying uncontrollably. The two older Knutson girls, Wendy and Misti, had flattened themselves as best they could between the bolts of Lily’s handmade lace, as if trying to disappear.
His powerful arms stretched apart again in a fast movement, splitting the fabric down the middle of the bodice. The drunkard was strong, and the garment was ruined.
The hours Sidney had spent carefully stitching that dress had her seeing red. She took a step toward him, drawing his attention for the first time.
Without a thought for her safety, she pulled back and punched Billy Burger in the side with everything she had. She was a rancher. She roped and branded. She could hogtie with the best of them. But to her disappointment, he hardly flinched.
“Get out!” she screamed in his face. “Get out of here before I really get mad.”
He brought up his elbow and caught her shoulder. Pain vibrated through her body.
Until that moment, Lily had stood in shocked silence, staring at the ruined pieces of what used to be Mrs. Tuttle’s beautiful gown. Sidney reeled back in shock and agony, and Lily’s eyes went wide.
“I’m taking you home, Francine. You wounded me when you ran away. You can’t best Billy Burger! ‘I do’ means until death do us part!”
He reached for Lily with a huge pan-sized hand.
Lily screeched and shrank back, knocking Ingrid to the floor in a soft thud. The dress form rolled on its side. One of the dowels slid out of the sleeve, tripping Lily and causing all the girls to scream as she scrambled to stay on her feet. But Billy’s tight hold kept her upright. Her eyes widened, as if she just now understood the danger of the situation they were in.
Sidney reached for her gun out of habit, but then realized she hadn’t worn the weapon since arriving in Rio Wells. She felt helpless. Her punch to his side had been no more than a mosquito bite, a mere annoyance.
I need a gun! That’s the only way to stop him before he hurts Lily!
With a powerful sweep of his bulky arm, he sent the bolts of lace over Wendy and Misti’s heads across the room, bouncing off the opposite wall.
Sidney never could abide a bully. He was enjoying his tirade way too much as he destroyed the place. She ducked behind him, bolted into the kitchen, and pulled open the small drawer on the side counter where Lily kept her utensils. She’d seen the gun the day she’d set the table. John probably kept the weapon there in case Lily needed protection in a hurry.
Well, today she did! Surely, being a McCutcheon weapon, the chambers would be loaded.
She whipped out the Colt, loving its weighty feel in her hand. Turning, she ran back into the main room, aimed, and fired without a second thought, sending a bullet straight through Billy Burger’s shiny black boot.
The giant howled in pain.
Firing again, she repeated the process to his other foot.
Baying like the animal he was, he released his grip on Lily, who he’d dragged halfway to the door. Dropping to one knee, he looked at his feet as he struggled to figure out what just happened.
Blood welled from the two perfectly round holes in the top of his boots, and then ran down the sides.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dustin rode quietly down Dry Street, wondering what he’d say to Sidney to break through her obstinacy. Just past the livery, he encountered John, Tucker, and Noah, dragging themselves up Spring Street in his direction, exhaustion etched on each face. Noah led his horse while Jackson, Sidney’s dog, walked at his heels.
Dustin waited until they were close and pushed up his hat, surveying them from the back of his horse. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s put in a long day.”
“Got the floor laid and workstations built,” John offered. His clothes were covered in grime, and Noah and Tucker didn’t look much better.
John removed
his hat and swiped a forearm across his brow. “Tomorrow we’ll give the place a good scrubbing, make sure everything is in order, and then begin gathering a supply of plants.”
Dustin sat back and got comfortable. He’d walked his mount the whole way here from the ranch, deep in thought, thinking of Sidney and what Diaz Sanchez had shared.
“That’s progress.” Why can’t my problems be of the non-female kind?
Suddenly a loud screech brought around all four heads. Two seconds later, a gunshot rang out, followed by another.
“What—?” Dustin bit out, gauging that the disturbance was happening in Lily’s shop.
John took off at a run, followed by Noah and Tucker. A touch of spur had Dustin’s mount galloping in the shop’s direction. He passed the others and was down the block in an instant. After sliding to a stop, he vaulted from the saddle and ran inside, gun drawn.
Gunpowder burned his eyes as he took in the shambles that was once Lily’s shop. Fabric was strewn about, and spools of lace were everywhere. A passel of females huddled in the open dressing room, clinging to each other as they sobbed and cried, tears streaming down their cheeks. Two others, who certainly fit the Knutson brand, stood ashen faced, staring at Billy Burger and the puddle of blood growing around his feet.
Gurgling gasps pushed through the drunkard’s lips as he hunched forward on the floor, pressing both hands to the top of his boots.
Lily stood close by, shaking violently, and Sidney—standing tall like a warrior princess, head up and shoulders back—held a .45 Colt in her hand. The triumphant look in her eyes rendered Dustin speechless.
Their gazes met and held as John, Noah, and Tucker crashed through the door, followed by Bixby and Cradle Hupton. There wasn’t room for one more body in the shop.
“Lily!” John shouted, a madman until he spotted her. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her firmly to his chest.
“Help me, Doc! I’m gonna bleed ta death if ya don’t do somethin’!”
Sidney took a small step forward. “It would serve you right, you ugly horned lizard. Do you know how many hours I spent on that dress?” She pointed at Billy with the barrel of the gun. “He came busting in here and started destroying things,” she told the men. “I didn’t shoot him until he manhandled Lily. He’s lucky I didn’t blow his head clean off.”
Texas Lonesome Page 21
