Between Love and Lies

by Jacqui Nelson

  Digging into his pocket, he withdrew the bottle. It lay in his hand, a small and ordinary cylinder of brown glass. Was it medicine after all? Whatever it was, it held Sadie’s future.

  A group of riders thundered by, cowboys whooping like hellions as they raced down the busy street amid shouts from those they endangered. Two women, with more face paint than clothing, called encouragements from the Star’s veranda. Behind them, a thin brakeman in soot-covered overalls shuffled through the saloon’s doors and joined the throng, heading toward his duties at the rail depot.

  Noah’s gaze snagged on a familiar figure in a dark-blue jacket. Head and shoulders bent, Doctor Rhodes advanced with a rapid-fire stride. He lurched to a halt and stared into the distance at some unknown destination. Then he turned and trudged at a lethargic pace back through the crowd, until he reached the black maw of a doorway on the opposite side of the street and disappeared within.

  Doctor Rhodes had prescribed Sadie’s medicine. He should have answers.

  Noah made a beeline for the door. A swaggering group of cattle barons sporting oversized top hats and flashy frock coats, Wardell’s friends no doubt, brought him up short. The men’s scowls faltered when they saw the star on Noah’s chest. Their puffed-up bravado vanished when their gazes rose to Noah’s face. They wisely decided against engaging him in conversation and lit out for a safer ground. Others followed their lead.

  The crowd parted as Noah crossed the thoroughfare.

  At his destination, he paused in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the murky interior. The stench of stale smoke and strong moonshine, edged with the kerosene used to fire the boiler, offended his nose. A dozen scruffy men, smelling as bad as their surroundings, slumped in chairs, too intent on drowning their demons to acknowledge him hovering on the threshold of this most derelict of rum-holes.

  The doctor sat hunched over the bar, his face shrouded by a heavy fall of coffee-colored hair in dire need of a trim. A haircut wouldn’t erase the white streak however, or whatever caused its appearance.

  Noah claimed the stool next to Doctor Rhodes. The bartender, after an initial questioning glance, busied himself elsewhere. Rhodes stared at his drink, seeming oblivious to Noah’s presence.

  “How’s business, Doctor?”

  Brushing aside his hair, Rhodes squinted up at him. “Do I know you?”

  Noah leaned closer. “We met the other evening at the Northern Star.”

  The doctor blinked and then nodded. “You were in Miss Sullivan’s room the last time I was summoned to check on her. You were concerned about her welfare, asked about her treatment.” His gaze drifted to the star on Noah’s vest before returning to his drink. “Looks like you got a promotion.”

  Noah placed Sadie’s medicine beside the doctor’s glass. “It’s making her sick,” he said, trying to keep his tone civil.

  The doctor’s jaw tightened. “She was ill to begin with.”

  “She’s not getting any better,” he countered, his voice growing louder.

  “Or any worse.”

  “How can you say that? She collapsed the other night. And what about the fever, the chills, the—”

  Surprise widened the doctor’s dark eyes as he swiveled in his chair to face him. A ghost of a smile curved the man’s parted lips. “Well, I’ll be. You’re smitten. This puts things in a whole new light.”

  Noah blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m here to help her.”

  The doctor’s smile widened. “Don’t pay me no mind. I’m glad Miss Sullivan’s got someone looking out for her now.” The haggard look returned to his face. “She hasn’t had it easy. And when I say she’s not getting any worse, I’m talking about the tertiary phase of the affliction. She’s shown none of those symptoms. At her current stage, the disease isn’t contagious, but I haven’t shared that detail with anyone but her.” His gaze returned to his drink. “Until now.”

  “Not contagious?” Noah felt as if he’d been kicked in the forehead by an ox. He gave his head a shake, trying to clear it. “How can that be?”

  The doctor shrugged. “She hasn’t any visible lesions. That’s mainly how the disease is transferred. And despite her fevers and chills, I’m hopeful for Miss Sullivan’s recovery. We were able to start administering the medicine before any of those first symptoms appeared. Early knowledge of her condition was a godsend. It increases her chances of survival.”

  Unable to move or speak, Noah continued to gape at the doctor.

  The man’s expression turned remote. “You still don’t believe me.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to say…” At a loss for how to continue, Noah waved his hand in the air.

  “That’s human nature. We often hear and see only what we want.”

  Noah tamped down his shock. Only one thing mattered, making sure Sadie got well. Anything else could be pondered later. “The medicine—”

  “Listen. I like Miss Sullivan. I wish she wasn’t ill. I wish I could offer her better treatment. But out here, this—” he picked up the bottle, “—is used for everything from toothache to tuberculosis. It’s the best option we have.” He set it down with a thump in front of Noah. “It’s the only option we have.”

  “Sounds like you’ve given up.” Noah’s fingers curled into fists.

  The doctor stared at a point on the ceiling. “I’m not God. I can’t save everyone.”

  His words hit Noah like a punch to the gut. He’d said almost the same thing the day Lewis had sold his herd and they’d walked back into town. I can’t even save a single person. Maybe he and the doctor weren’t that different.

  He didn’t think he’d made a sound, but suddenly Rhodes peered at him with concerned eyes. “Sometimes all we can do is hope for the best and leave the rest to the Almighty.”

  Noah tried to imagine all the patients the doctor must have seen: the men, the women, the children. Those he’d saved, those he’d tried to help and couldn’t. “Had a bad day, Doc?”

  “Can’t remember when I had a good one,” Rhodes replied in a weary voice.

  “Let me lighten your load.” He held out his hand. “Sadie’s under my care now as well as yours.”

  Rhodes didn’t hesitate, but took his hand and shook it.

  Noah reaction was instant as well. He started second guessing his impulsive gesture. Joining forces with the doctor was a gamble he hoped he didn’t come to regret, especially when Sadie’s wellbeing depended on the outcome.

  * * *

  Mind over matter, Sadie reminded herself as she tried to squash the growing unease her surroundings evoked. It was dark in Gertie’s room, even darker under her bed. The splinters in the floorboards poked her chest and legs. She forced herself to ignore her discomfort and stay put.

  Damned if she’d give up now. She had a direct sightline to her salvation. If she waited long enough, she’d learn the combination to Gertie’s safe and discover if Edward’s watch and jewelry box lay inside.

  Daylight had prevailed when she’d picked the lock on Gertie’s door and crawled under her hiding place. A tight squeeze to be certain and, as time had passed and the light faded with the setting sun, the mattress seemed to press down on her even more.

  Mind over matter, she repeated, focusing on the wall opposite. Against it stood Gertie’s strongbox, an iron-gray slab that she fancied was devouring any remaining illumination. The safe’s unalterable solidness taunted her.

  Every Wednesday night, Gertie wore her scarlet gown and ruby necklace. Gertie’s rubies weren’t in the room. Sadie had checked. So they had to be in the safe. All Gertie’s jewelry was paste, but she enjoyed telling her customers her baubles were real. Fake touted as genuine was best kept locked away.

  The doorknob rattled as a key slid into the lock. With a bright beam of light came a cacophony of voices and jarring piano music. The door closed and the room once more plunged into a hushed obscurity. A pair of pale calfskin boots crossed to the dresser. Their soles flashed like crescent moons under the hem of a midnight c
loud.

  A match scratched a surface, and the glow of a kerosene lamp banished the gloom to the corners. The illumination did little to slow Sadie’s racing heart.

  Holding her breath, she watched a teal-green gown puddle around Gertie’s feet. Dust motes danced in the muted lamplight as Gertie’s foot swung in a ghostly arc, kicking her dress away. Then the hem of a scarlet skirt dropped into view, skimming the tops of her ivory ankles before swinging left and right. A satisfied sigh followed. Sadie guessed Gertie had assessed her reflection in the mirror and found everything to her liking.

  She tracked Gertie’s feet as they moved across the room. When the madam crouched beside the strongbox, Sadie pinned her regard on the plump fingers spinning the brass dial. She might not be able to blink, but she gave the smile tugging her lips free rein.

  On the last rotation, Gertie shifted sideways. Her broad backside blocked the entire strongbox. Sadie stifled her groan.

  The madam reached inside the safe and lifted something to her neck, most likely her ruby necklace. The safe door snapped shut, followed by the whirl of the dial.

  Gertie stood and spun toward the bed. Sadie’s heart clambered up her throat. Each step Gertie took toward Sadie caused the boards to vibrate under her palms and her heart to shimmy farther up her throat. The calfskin boots stopped so close to her nose she could see the scuff marks on the toes. Gritting her teeth, she prepared to be discovered.

  Above her, the whisper of cloth sliding across the coverlet hissed in her ears. Then a silver gossamer shawl fell to the floor, making her flinch and almost bolt from under the bed. Gertie’s hand appeared and snatched up the shawl.

  At long last, the woman pivoted on her heels and marched out of the room.

  Only after the key turned the lock did Sadie’s heart drop back into place. On wobbly limbs, she crawled out from under the bed and plunked herself down in front of the safe. A quick swipe of her damp palms over her skirt, then she went to work on the dial. The last number would have to be determined by trial and error.

  The minutes ticked away on the grandfather clock, more than she’d hoped for and less than she’d feared, until the strongbox opened. Inside rested Gertie’s rainbow collection of paste jewelry, flanked by stacks of greenbacks. No silver or gold. No Faberge jewelry box or Cartier pocket watch. Sadie’s shoulders slumped with disappointment.

  Why weren’t they inside?

  Because if Edward’s missing valuables were found in Gertie’s safe, it would raise ugly questions.

  Giving up wasn’t a valid option. She had to keep searching. The saloon held other hiding places. Like the multitude of crates in the storeroom.

  Mustering her resolve, she closed the strongbox and glanced at the door. At this time of day, with the landing outside and the saloon below at their busiest, departing that way would be foolhardy. She crossed to the other door, the one that led onto the balcony. Under cover of night, the balcony now provided her best escape route.

  Even crouched on her heels, her hairpins made quick work of unlocking and relocking the door behind her. Then she hurried, with bent knees and back, the short distance to her bedroom window.

  Her feet had no sooner touched the floorboards of her room than someone drawled, “However did you get on the balcony? I didn’t see you there a moment ago.”

  Sadie whirled toward the voice. In the shadows, a murky figure reclined on her bed. A match flared, followed by a dull light that revealed a woman holding Sadie’s rusted lantern on her lap—an ebony-haired woman with a surplus of curves and a deficit of manners.

  Cora laughed and rose to set the lantern on the bureau. “Surprised to see me? You shouldn’t be. Didn’t take long for me to notice your absence downstairs. Where have you been?”

  Sadie racked her brain for an adequate response.

  Cora grabbed her wrist and shook her till her teeth rattled. “Tell me.”

  She couldn’t escape. All she could do was track Cora’s hand, rising open-palmed to strike.

  Satisfaction lowered Cora’s voice to a throaty purr. “I’m gonna enjoy making you talk.”

  “Tell her, Sadie. I won’t let you conceal our visits, and suffer alone.”

  Sadie spun toward the window she’d crawled through. Noah sat on the ledge. He looked calm, but when he stood and moved toward them, she saw the muscles bunching in his jaw.

  Cora’s eyes narrowed as she glanced from him to Sadie and back again. “What’s going on?”

  “This.” He reached past Cora to thrust his fingers deep into Sadie’s hair and tug her close. His lips brushed hers. Warm and welcome. Like the last time he’d been in her bedroom…before he’d left.

  She tried to press closer.

  He wouldn’t her let. He held her immobile while his fingers moved incessantly in her hair. “Very soon, the next time we’re alone, I swear I’m gonna kiss you properly.”

  Through the roar of her blood pounding in her temples, Cora’s outraged gasp snared her attention, along with the words, “I’m getting Gertie.”

  “No,” she whispered, dismay leaching the word of any power.

  Noah reached the door before Cora could. He leaned one shoulder against the wood while she yanked uselessly on the doorknob. “Fetching Gertie isn’t in our best interests,” he remarked. “I’m sure we can solve our differences without her.”

  Arms akimbo, Cora spun to face him. “You’re trying to slide in an’ out without droppin’ a dollar for your whoring.”

  A scowl hardened Noah’s expression. He shoved away from the door to tower over the woman.

  Cora didn’t retreat. “You figure, ’cause you’ve got that tin star on your chest, you can swagger in here an’ have whatever you want for free? Well, you’re wrong. You’ll pay Gertie, same as everyone.”

  “Why don’t I pay you instead?” Noah said.

  Sadie felt her eyes flare as wide as Cora’s.

  The other woman recovered first and ran her gaze over Noah. “You’re a most persuasive man, Mr. Ballantyne,” she purred like a cat thinking her favorite food was in reach. Her gaze flicked to Sadie. A smile twitched her lips as she looped her arms around Noah’s neck. “Why pay for sullied goods when you can have me?”

  Noah untangled himself from her grasp and went back to leaning against the door. “I’m only interested in spending time with Sadie.”

  His refusal to be swayed by Cora’s charms, made Sadie’s heart leap with joy. Yet his words shouldn’t please her. He sounded like a man bent on interfering with her plans. She didn’t want that. She couldn’t want that.

  Noah challenged Cora’s silence with a raised eyebrow. “Say the word and I’ll accompany you downstairs to continue this conversation with Madam Garrett.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, dallying with that bitch,” Cora said, jabbing her finger at Sadie.

  “I’ll take my chances,” he replied without hesitation.

  The glare Cora turned on Sadie made her scalp prickle like her hair had been singed.

  “So…” Her tormentor snorted a laugh. “You’ve finally got a man paying to lift your skirt.”

  A chill swept over Sadie. Cora’s barb struck too close to the truth. Was she implying she knew Edward had never shared Sadie’s bed? The only way she could know was if Edward or Orin had told her, and Sadie couldn’t think of any reason they would.

  “If this one gets in your drawers,” Cora continued, “you’ll be in real trouble. You’re both gonna end up payin’ a hefty price.” She thrust her hand, palm up, toward Noah. “I’ll take my first payment now.”

  * * *

  Noah watched Cora pocket the gold eagles he’d given her.

  When the coins were safely stowed in the ample cleavage on display above her corseted waist, she trailed her fingers up her ivory skin to her hair. A scarlet silk rose set off her glossy dark mane, not a strand of which was out of place. She’d obviously invested considerable time in arranging her appearance.

  He opened the door for her, wishin
g she’d left ages ago, wishing he’d never seen her tonight.

  As soon as she’d cleared the threshold, he closed the door behind her and turned to Sadie.

  Dust streaked her face and hair. It couldn’t hide the freckles scattered across her cheekbones or the complete disarray of her red hair. He approached her with measured steps, stifling the urge to fulfill his vow and tousle her hair even more as he kissed her for real.

  Would she greet him with the same startled inquisitiveness? As if he was the first to kiss her?

  He needed to derail that train of thought as well. Only a fool longed for the impossible when more pressing matters loomed—like learning where Sadie had been and why.

  “I’m as curious as Cora to know what’s got you climbing through windows tonight.”

  “If I wouldn’t tell her, do you think I’ll tell you?”

  One rebellious red lock, longer and dustier than the rest, claimed his attention. He couldn’t stop himself from stroking the silky strands between his fingers as he held them up for her inspection. “Where could you’ve picked up so much dust?”

  “From my window curtain,” she replied a little too quickly while shrugging one shoulder in a casual gesture that failed to conceal her nervousness.

  What made her more uneasy? His questions or his nearness? What would it take to learn her secrets and keep her safe?

  He leaned closer until they stood eye to eye. “I came in the same way. See any dust on me?”

  Her chin lowered along with her gaze. “Thank you for helping me with Cora.”

  He had her thanks, not her trust. He released her hair and gripped the back of his neck instead. His fingers dug into his flesh as he struggled to stop himself from reaching for her again. “You’re the most confounding soul I’ve ever met. Most stubborn too.”

  “You mean more stubborn than you?” She stole a glance at him and, for an all-too-brief moment, he lost himself in a pair of emerald eyes sparkling with mirth before her gaze lowered again. “Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Then incredibly she laughed.