Before she had time to process Fina’s words, Nacho joined them. “I agree. We can always use extra help, and I want to do my part in keeping our town safe.”
She did enjoy Fina’s company, and Jane was right. She was going crazy, confined to the assayer’s office all the time. Even though the building site for the boarding house was nearby, her family didn’t like her going to check on things so often. Today’s incident would only make them more hesitant.
Plus, she had enjoyed the food. She could learn a lot from working here, and maybe learn more tips on running a business for when her boarding house opened.
“All right,” Rosalind said. “Maybe I will even learn some Spanish. It sounds so poetic when you speak it, and I’ve always wanted to learn.”
Fina laughed. “I’m sure you’ll pick up quite a few words here and there. Now, come help me clean the rest of the dinner dishes, and we can discuss your job duties and payment.”
As Rosalind and Jane followed them into the kitchen, she felt more hopeful than she had in a long time. Even though it seemed like there were only more questions about her father’s death than ever before, she didn’t feel so alone in pursuing them.
Rather than sitting around waiting for Hawk to give her more information, she would have more tools for finding out who the three men who kidnapped Dorcas and damaged the bridge could be. But more importantly, she had others standing by to help.
The thought made her sad for Hawk. Who did he have? Her father had said that, other than Moses, Hawk didn’t spend much time with anyone. He was a loner who preferred his own company.
Back at the railroad camp, she occasionally caught a glimpse of longing on Hawk’s face as he sat back in the shadows, watching everyone else enjoy themselves. There was a lot to Hawk that she didn’t understand. And even though she’d like to, she couldn’t help remembering the expression on his face when he spoke about his wife.
Would there ever be room in his heart for anyone else?
Was she a fool for wanting a man who consistently shut her out and often made her regret speaking up? Her mother used to tell her that the reason she’d fallen in love with her father was that he respected her and treated her like a partner. Hawk didn’t do that, so why would Rosalind even consider him in a romantic way?
But as they entered the kitchen, Nacho gave Fina a little squeeze as he whispered something in her ear and she giggled. Fina turned and gave him a quick kiss, and it reminded Rosalind of the happier times in her family before they’d left St. Louis before her mother got sick and before her father was killed.
Her parents had loved one another like that, and as she’d watched her parents interact, she’d felt a sense of safety and security, knowing that she was surrounded by love.
Though she could never go back to those times, Rosalind had to hold onto the hope that some level of happiness would be once again possible. Her family would once again laugh together, and maybe, one day, an honorable man would whisper things in Rosalind’s ear, and she would know what it was like to be loved by a man. None of the men she’d met thus far stirred anything in her other than a yawn. Or, as in the case of the other railroad workers, the desire to scrub herself thoroughly from the slimy way they all looked at her.
Hawk, though, put a fire in her that made her feel more alive. Even though she thought of herself as a strong woman, something about having him near strengthened her. Selfishly, she hoped Hawk would someday feel the same way about her. That he could learn to open up to her and see her as a capable woman who could stand beside him so he wouldn’t have to go through life alone.
And maybe, as she watched Nacho steal another kiss from Fina before she swatted him away, she’d have those same loving touches warming her from her own special someone.
Fina handed her a bucket of dirty dishwater. “Go dump this out back and refill it from the pump. You might change your mind about working for us after you’ve done a few loads of dishes, but you can’t be in the restaurant business if you’re afraid of getting your hands dirty.”
Rosalind smiled at her. “Not at all. We’ll be serving meals to our boarders, and at our old boarding house, I often had to do dishes. Not to mention all the dishes we had to do working for the railroad and feeding their men.”
As she went outside, the gentle evening breeze chilled her. It was starting to grow dark. She hadn’t realized they’d been inside so long. But the air was refreshing, and it gave her a moment to clear her head. As much as she wanted to entertain her romantic notions, she had to focus on the task at hand.
Rounding the corner toward the well pump, she heard two men speaking.
“Any fool can see that she’s sweet on you,” the first man said.
“I’ve done nothing to encourage her.”
Hawk. She’d have recognized that voice anywhere.
“And why not? She’s pretty enough. Seems to have a good head on her shoulders. You could do worse than take her as a wife.”
She should go back inside and not listen to the rest of the conversation. Her mother used to say that eavesdroppers never heard the good of themselves. But they were clearly talking about her.
“You of all people know why I can’t marry her. You’re right. Any man would do well by marrying Rosalind. But not me. I’ll not marry again.”
At least she had confirmation that they were talking about her. But something in her heart broke a little, crackling along the edges into fine lines at Hawk’s strong denial.
“I know I’ve told you a hundred times, but it bears repeating. You’re one of the most foolish men I’ve ever met, burying your head in the past and not looking to the future. Were it not for your inability to move past Beth’s death, you would have a good life ahead of you. You could do more than most men ever dream of, but rather than utilizing the potential, you’re throwing it away on a ghost.”
“Don’t you dare speak her name,” Hawk said, his voice rough. “You’re not fit to speak her name, Charles Gant. If it weren’t for you, Beth would still be alive. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”
Beth. That must’ve been his wife’s name. The anguish in his voice reminded her of how she felt whenever unexpected memories of her father sprang up. She wasn’t just going to get over her father’s death. A person couldn’t let go of their grief so easily.
Rosalind was a fool for thinking that Hawk might someday grow to care for her.
“And you’ve never been able to see the facts of that case clearly. If we’d have gone in when you wanted to, we’d both be dead. We were outnumbered, outgunned, and no one would’ve been able to help us.”
Hawk made a disgusted noise. “I was outgunned at the bank robbery. And I still managed to kill them all.” He hesitated for a moment like he was choking back a sob. “Except for one. And I’ve still got a bullet with his name on it.”
“It’s not going to bring her back,” Gant said gently. “And you can’t honestly tell me that a woman who abhorred violence as much as she did would want you pursuing this vendetta. I know you lost someone special, but you forget that I lost someone too. Beth was my sister, the only family I had left. We became brothers when you married her, so when she died, and you turned your back on me…”
“Don’t give me that pathetic line of being brothers. You stopped being my brother the day you refused to help me go after your sister’s remaining killer. You never loved her. You’re too busy loving yourself and your precious reputation. So don’t lecture me on how I should be living my life and who I should be courting. You think Rosalind is so wonderful? Maybe you should test your idiotic notions of love on her.”
She’d never heard Hawk speak with such passion before. And now she understood more fully the bad blood between him and Gant. Both men had lost something very dear to them, and even though Gant didn’t seem to blame Hawk, Hawk’s inability to forgive Gant for his role in Beth’s death would be a wedge forever separating them.
She thought the saddest part of the conversation was the fact t
hat Hawk couldn’t return her feelings. But understanding the depth of his anger and bitterness shattered her heart into tiny pieces along the lines where it had fractured moments ago.
“No thank you,” Gant said. “I’ve got plenty on my plate without having to deal with some foolish woman bent on finding her father’s killer.”
So he thought she was foolish? At least the feeling was mutual.
“That’s really your problem, isn’t it? You’re only interested in justice if it comes easy. And if it requires any work, or for you to put yourself at risk, you’re just as happy to step aside and let someone else do the deed. I only included you in the case as a courtesy. Fortunately for Rosalind, finding Joe’s murderer doesn’t rest on your shoulders. There will be justice for the Creary family. You can depend upon it.”
He spoke with the same conviction he’d spoken about his wife. Even though overhearing this conversation had destroyed any hope she had of ever having Hawk return her feelings, at least now she knew his determination about bringing her father’s killer to justice.
As she quietly slipped away, she wondered if she’d been right about anything in life. She’d been wrong to hope for romance with Hawk. She’d been wrong to doubt his resolve in helping her family. Though she wasn’t going to give up investigating on her end, when it came to Hawk, she would do as he asked and be patient.
But making that promise to herself didn’t make her feel any better. It only made the deep ache in her heart worse.
People said heartbreak was one of the most awful feelings in the world. She’d just never known that it could happen without ever having really been loved.
8
Hawk knelt by the knotty pine as he watched two men cut loose the ropes binding a stack of logs they’d prepared for tomorrow’s work. He’d been camping out by the worksites at night, with Reggie in his tent as a decoy, and Moses standing guard. He wanted whoever was doing this to feel safe like Hawk didn’t realize what was going on.
But he’d been documenting everything carefully, and until tonight, he hadn’t actually seen any of it happen. If only the clouds would move away from the moon so he could identify the culprits.
A bird call rang through the night, and though he supposed it was designed to fool anyone who might be watching, Hawk knew it was man-made. Wrong bird, wrong time of day to be otherwise. Had his position been discovered?
The two men took off running toward the camp, and they had enough of a lead on him that even if he started to run now, he’d never catch up with them in time. Instead, he waited for the men to disappear into the night then walked over to where they had been.
He glanced down the ravine where the logs had rolled. They’d lose half a day’s work recovering them, which was what all of these accidents of late had been. Annoyances that no one could really prove anyone had done and could have just as easily been caused by neglect.
When he’d gone to Stiles to explain about sabotage, pointing out that railroad spikes didn’t just accidentally remove themselves from the rail beds, Stiles had told him to keep an eye out, but since then everything that had happened couldn’t be proven as deliberate. Sometimes Hawk wondered if Stiles was warning off whoever had been doing it.
But that was crazy.
Stiles needed the railroad to be successful just as much as anyone. Stiles was married to a harpy who insisted upon the better things in life. She wasn’t pleased that the luxuries she required from back East were costing them more and harder to obtain because the railroad hadn’t yet arrived in Noelle.
Hawk grinned as he remembered the lamp sailing past him the last time he’d gone to visit Stiles. Mrs. Stiles had been in the midst of throwing a fit over the poor quality of goods she was forced to endure.
It wasn’t just Stiles’s pocketbook, but also his sanity that demanded the railroad come to Noelle as quickly as possible.
So who, then?
He still hadn’t figured out who would benefit from the railroad’s delay. Not even Peregrines’ Freight company or the Red Bird stage line would get enough benefit from losing the railroad to make it worthwhile for them to destroy it.
Tonight, the saboteurs had been clumsy. Usually, they left no evidence, but in their hurry to leave, they’d left behind a piece of rope. Or should he say, the rope they’d cut? He could tell by the score marks on the rope, it didn’t just accidentally break. The cut was too smooth, too precise, and whoever had done this had a decent knife. True, any man worth his salt carried a good knife. But as he looked at the cuts on the rope, he could tell this was done by a knife whose owner cared for it and kept it sharp enough to slice through anything. This man took pride in his knife. And he’d likely go straight home to hone it again. Cutting through something like that rope would have dulled the blade, which would have been unacceptable to someone like this man.
He might not know what the person he was after looked like, but he knew a lot about him just from this piece of evidence.
Hawk looked around for any further clues. But without the moonlight to guide him, it was difficult in the dim light to catch the smaller details that might make a difference.
Since whoever had sabotaged the day’s work had completed the task, they likely wouldn’t return tonight. Hawk made his way back to the camp, where he could consult with Moses and Reggie about what he’d found. Between the three of them, they might be able to come up with a list of men who were proud of their knives.
And maybe, as he walked through the camp, he’d even spy a man working on his blade. Such a dead giveaway would almost be a gift. Except that it still wouldn’t be hard evidence. But it would narrow down his list of suspects. It’d let him know who to follow.
Moses was waiting for him at the edge of the camp. “I was just coming to get you. Some of the men in the saloon tent were laughing about how they’d gone into town today and busted up some of the windows at the boarding house. I thought you would want to know.”
He hated not being able to be in two places at once. Part of him wanted to be in Noelle, where he could watch out for Rosalind and her family.
Rosalind. Why did her name always have to be the first he thought of? Sometimes he could hear Gant in the back of his head taunting him about finding love again. Crazy Gant. What did he know about love? He’d never succumbed to such an emotion. If anything proved Hawk’s feelings for Rosalind, it was that he wasn’t pursuing her. He cared enough about her not to want to leave her a widow.
At the rate the law was working on her father’s murder, the only way the killer would be brought to justice was if Hawk took care of it himself. Like everything else.
“What happened?” Hawk asked Moses, pushing all thoughts of Rosalind aside. He wasn’t going to dwell on things best left alone.
“They were saying the place looked all nice and framed up, with the delivery of windows waiting to be installed. So they all took a bunch of rocks and threw them at them, busting up the windows so they couldn’t be used.” Moses made a disgusted noise. “Probably set those poor folks back hundreds of dollars. Windows are expensive, but probably cost them a lot more since they came by freight and not rail.”
And people thought the Crearys had reason to delay the rail line. Surely it was obvious to anyone with a brain that not having the railroad made things worse for the family, not better.
Hawk looked around the camp. He wasn’t going to find the sabotage culprit tonight. But if he rode hard, he could get to Noelle before everyone went to bed. The sheriff was supposed to be looking out for the Creary family. And Gant, well, not that he trusted him, but how could he let this happen as well?
He told Moses what he had found, and Moses shook his head slowly. “When they catch whoever did this, there’s going to be a lot of angry folk wanting to string them up.”
Hawk was tempted to shoot first, ask questions later. But in this case, he needed answers.
“I see your hand itching on that gun belt of yours,” Moses said. “Solving your problems that way is wha
t got you into trouble in the first place. Haven’t you figured out yet that there’s a better way?”
Hawk glared at his friend. “You’ve told me enough times. I’m doing the best I can to live a better life, but you have to understand how frustrating it is when the wheels of justice turn so slowly. Right now, it’s like they’re stuck in the mud.”
“Sometimes justice doesn’t come the way we see it. Mostly, we’ve got to rely on the Lord and understand that even though things don’t make sense, He knows what He’s doing. You just be patient and don’t go off all hotheaded. We have enough people in this camp doing that, and someone has to be the voice of reason.”
The voice of reason was Moses, but people didn’t listen to a black man, which meant Hawk had to be his voice. It amazed him how many times Moses would say something to the men, and they’d ignore it, but as soon as Hawk said the exact same thing, they’d jump up and listen.
“I’ll do my best,” Hawk said. “Keep your eye out for a man with a good knife who takes pride in it. I’ll head into town and see what I can do for the Crearys. I’ll spend the night, so I can talk to Stiles first thing. Maybe now he’ll believe that something needs to be done and give me leave to do more investigating.”
Moses made a noise. “That cheapskate isn’t going to do anything that costs him money. You’re too valuable in the field because the men don’t work as hard when you’re not there. Everyone knows it. That worthless layabout who took Joe’s place doesn’t know how to run the job, and people get away with slacking off because he doesn’t know any better.”
Despite Moses’ harsh words, he was being kind in his judgment. From what Hawk had observed, it was less about him and not knowing any better regarding what people got away with, and more about him rewarding his cronies.
Rosalind: A Thanksgiving Day Bride (Brides of Noelle Book 8) Page 9
