Cora snorted a laughed. “Yes, one possibility is your Texan. Lewis told me his friend owned a ranch in Texas. A large one.”
Noah couldn’t be rich enough to warrant the hungry look in Cora’s eyes. Or could he? If he’d gone back to the bank and sold her farm—the land she’d refused to barter her time for—he’d at least have ready cash again. He could pay Gertie. If he had, there wasn’t a burning need to run. She’d rather stay and give him a tongue-lashing for discarding her farm so quickly as well as using his hard-earned dollars to feed Gertie’s greed.
Cora’s gaze roamed her face. “An’ what of the other man? The first owns a ranch. The second likes to think he owns a town.”
Fear drained her of all other emotion. “Wardell.”
“Not such a witless rabbit after all.”
Icy tendrils of panic snaked around her, making her shiver uncontrollably. She’d been lucky to escape Wardell last autumn when Edward out-bid him. Now it seemed her luck had left town before she could. If there was even the remotest chance the buyer might be Wardell—
She had to get Cora out of this room, so she could then get out the window. She seized her nemesis’ arm and tried to pull her toward the door. Like the sturdiest of oaks Cora remained rooted to the floorboards.
“If you’re done gloating, why don’t you leave me alone to my fate?” she demanded.
Cora released a breathy laugh as she leaned toward Sadie and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Because I want to give you this.” She slid her fingers into the top of her corset and fished out a tarnished key.
“What’s that?”
Cora tapped the key on the window lock. The rust on both matched. “The means to your escape.”
Sadie fought the impulse to snatch the offering. “I don’t believe you. The last thing you’d want is to help me.” The woman had admitted she knew Sadie’s medicine was toxic and still pressed her to take it.
Cora’s glare could’ve cut the glass on the window. “We don’t always get everything we want. Despite my longing to see you laid low there’s something I desire more. You snatched Edward out of my hands, but you won’t steal another rich patron who should be mine.”
“You couldn’t possible want Wardell. He’s—” She didn’t know how to describe the horrors she’d heard.
“He’s a sadistic bastard.” Cora arched one brow in challenge. “Aren’t they all, to some extent? If he gets too rough, I can always slip a little rat poison in his bourbon. But not before I get his money. Lots of it. You stand between me an’ that windfall. ”
Cora and Wardell were a pair of devils. They deserved each other. Sadie would gladly leave and let them torment each other. But doubts still nagged her. “This is a trick. You want me dead.”
“We don’t always get everything we want. I need the money more.” Cora voice grew gruff with impatience. “So take the blasted key and go. I’m not leaving till you do.”
Cora left her no choice. She did as commanded. On the plus side, keys were quicker than hairpins, and she needed every second to escape. She’d wasted too many of them talking to Cora and John. The window shot up with a screech of protest.
Both her and Cora glanced at the door and froze. Had John heard?
“So you’re saying you won’t put on the dress?” Cora said in an exaggeratedly loud voice as she eased the window closed.
Sadie raised her voice to match. “Damn the dress and you too. Get out.”
“Ungrateful bitch,” Cora shot back with a laugh. Then she strode toward the door, scooping up the dress as she went. She paused in the open doorway. Long enough for John to stare over her head and see Sadie.
“I hope I never see you again,” she said as she closed the door.
A sense of calm purpose stole over Sadie. This time, she raised the window with care. So it didn’t even utter a squeak. She poked her head outside and scanned the alley. Empty. Thank the Lord.
Sitting on the windowsill, she swung one foot through the opening then the other. She didn’t pause. She pushed off.
The hard-packed dirt jarred her bones. She ignored the discomfort and ran. A hasty glance over her shoulder confirmed that, for now, only her guilt followed her. Staying to fulfill her promise to Edward had given way to sheer survival. If there was one chance in a hundred that Wardell was coming for her, she couldn’t stay.
Wardell was a fight she couldn’t win.
She could only run and pray that this time John and Gertie didn’t catch her and drag her back to the Star…and a room she’d gambled everything on escaping.
* * *
Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, Noah followed Madam Garrett through the packed saloon toward the door behind which she’d ensured him Sadie waited. A door that John and Cora had stood outside of while conversing with irate gestures. When Cora saw him and the madam approaching, she disappeared into the crowd at a brisk pace.
The men milling around the dozen or so women in the room slowed his pace and continued to delay his efforts to speak with Sadie. The recent arrival of several cattle drives meant Front Street was never empty. He hadn’t been able to use the balcony to reach Sadie’s room unseen. Nor had he been able to approach Sadie in the saloon without Cora interrupting.
No surprise, then, that as soon as he’d secured a way to be alone with Sadie, he found Cora nearby. This time arguing with John. Had they been discussing Sadie?
His gut warned him the woman had stoked the troubles between him and Sadie. Exactly what she’d said or done, he hated to contemplate. After Sadie’s continued refusal to talk to him, he’d demanded answers from Cora. All she’d offered him were her sexual services again.
The resulting impasse had forced his hand. That didn’t mean he was comfortable with what he’d done. Not by a long shot.
Once more, his conscience plagued him, like a burr beneath a saddle blanket. But if paying one hundred dollars resulted in Sadie talking to him, then it had to be done. She’d be hard pressed to remain silent all night in a room with him. Especially when she couldn’t run away.
He’d pushed her pretty hard, first with his brazen bargain for her land, then with his kisses. What if he’d gone too far this time? Sweat broke out on his forehead as he pictured Sadie inside the room. How angry would she be?
He stopped a stride from the door, not sure he wanted to find out.
Madam Garrett gave him a strained but determined smile. “Come, Mr. Ballantyne. Sadie’s waiting for you.”
He raised a halting hand. “How’d she take it when you told her?”
“Told her…?”
“That I’d paid you a hundred dollars to speak with her.”
“She was…delighted.” The madam seemed both relieved and heartened to find the word. “I’ve put you in the best room in the house. You won’t be disturbed. Come,” she beckoned and then gestured for John to step aside.
“Delighted’s a mite optimistic,” John muttered as he complied.
Noah stared at the man, his resolve disintegrating. Half an hour ago, he’d been dead certain this was the right path. The last one left open to him.
As Madam Garrett opened the door, he braced himself for the sight of blazing emerald eyes and the fight of his life. An empty room greeted him. So did an open window.
The madam let out a howl like the cat he’d compared himself to moments ago. He’d set the rocking chairs in motion.
“How dare she run away!” She elbowed Noah aside and sunk her nails into John’s arm with such ferocity even the giant blanched. “I assumed she’d learned after last time. Apparently, she needs a reminder.” She patted John’s arm and lowered her voice to a more cajoling tone. “Now John, I know you felt sorry for her, that you held back. But look what good that did. Find her. And this time, make the lesson stick.”
The look that passed between the pair robbed the air from Noah’s lungs. “Madam, you’ll do no such thing. Not on my account, or ever. I don’t want—”
But John
was already pushing his way through the crowd toward the back door that led to the alley. Panic threatened to swallow him whole as he chased after John.
He’d once again disturbed a delicate house of cards. Made them come crashing down when he’d inserted himself into the fragile framework of Sadie’s life. And, like last year, she’d be the one to pay the price.
* * *
The peaked roof of the livery stable, high above all the others, beckoned. Sadie left the shelter of the alley and forced herself to stroll down the busy street. Almost there. But getting there felt as if it were taking a lifetime, rather than the exact number of seconds she’d carefully counted the morning after Edward died.
Even though she’d planned for this—had almost left after Davenport threatened her life or when she’d believed Doctor Rhodes told Noah she didn’t have syphilis—she couldn’t stop shaking. So much could go wrong. She flinched at every footfall, every shout, imagining a search party in pursuit.
Until she slipped through the livery door and closed it behind her. But not completely. She left the smallest gap. Enough to peer through and scan the street.
No one looked or pointed her way.
She slumped against the door, shutting out the world, but not her thoughts. Remorse squeezed her chest, solid and unforgiving. She’d failed Edward. Oddly, that wasn’t what hurt most. She’d never see Noah again.
She should’ve waited to learn if he was the buyer. But what if Wardell had walked into that room instead of Noah? She would’ve waited on a man and lost her one chance to escape. Same as she’d waited on Edward and his promise to take her away from Dodge.
No more waiting.
She ran to the ladder leading to the hayloft. By the time she reached the far corner of the loft, she was panting and praying.
Let it still be here. She dug through the hay. If it’s gone—
Her fingers brushed coarse cloth. She hugged the sack to her chest, then stripped to her under-clothes and donned the bag’s contents. Chosen for their size as well as their dull homespun weight, the coat and pants hung on her and hopefully hid all of her curves. Next came oversized boots and a hat large enough to hide her hair underneath. Reaching up, she swept her palms over a roof beam and rubbed the dirt on her face and hands.
After she covered every inch of her body, she stuffed her harlot garb in the sack, buried it under the hay, and prayed once more. Please let my old life disappear as easily.
She retraced her steps to the livery floor and out the door. Tramping along the street, she pondered how best to walk like a boy. She didn’t know how long she’d have to play this role, so she’d better get it right.
Behind her, galloping hoof beats froze her feet but sent her heart racing. Her last ounce of good sense propelled her to sit beside two youths playing jacks on the boardwalk.
John urged his mount down the road. A man on a gray horse followed. The silver badge on his vest caught the sunlight, blinding her, making her gaze plummet.
Why was Noah riding with John? Was he here to stop John or help him? What would happen if she ran?
The murmurs of a growing crowd echoed her thoughts. Their bodies crowded close. Snug as a noose. She wasn’t going anywhere.
The horses skidded to a halt in front of the crowd. Their hooves churned up dust as their riders turned the nervous animals in circles, trying to keep them in one spot.
“I’m looking for Sadie Sullivan,” John shouted. “The prostitute who works at the Northern Star.”
She raised her chin. Guilty people looked down.
Noah’s mouth was a grim line, his brows dark slashes over narrowed eyes. He scanned the crowd slowly…painstakingly…hunting. When he came to her and the two boys, the nerves along the nape of her neck prickled. She imagined he lingered a mite too long before continuing his search.
“There’s a reward for anyone who brings her in.” John’s gaze swept the townsfolk as well. “And a beatin’ for anyone who don’t. So if you see her, haul her straight back to the Star.”
His audience mumbled their agreement. John understood their desires and their fears. Even worse, he was as persistent as a Virginia coonhound. If she didn’t leave town fast, she’d be back in the Star and a world of pain.
John spurred his mount down the street. Noah followed.
On wobbly legs, she rose and continued on the path she’d chosen. Thankfully that direction led her away from John…and Noah. Her shaking increased. She concentrated on not tripping over her own feet. She was finally leaving Dodge. Nothing was going to stop her. Not even her foolish heart.
A cloud of dust high in the sky along with a muted thunder were her beacons. The sound swelled into bellowing cattle, shuffling hooves and men shouting orders. She’d reached the rail depot. Just in time. A train was loading its final cattle car. It’d leave in a matter of minutes.
She sprinted for the locomotive. A single leap took her over the track and around the cow catcher. Her feet slipped in the loose dirt. Arms wind milling, she fought to stay upright. She ended up on her hands and knees, crawling behind the engine.
The smoke-box with its fluted chimney towered over her. The depot stood on the other side. So did Dodge and the eager eyes of everyone who might drag her back to the Gertie. A mysterious array of pipes and pistons drew her attention down the train. Her gaze halted on a ladder. The iron rungs, smooth and solid under her hands and feet, made for a quick climb.
When she reached the top, a glimpse of the workers trudging back to town sent her ducking as she jumped over the last rung. Her pant leg caught on something. She flipped forward into blackness. She landed hard on her belly and chest.
The air left her lungs. Wouldn’t return. She rolled onto her back. The coal for the firebox was an unforgiving bed as she struggled to breathe. One painful gasp at a time.
The bright starbursts obscuring her vision faded. A swathe of blue, broken only by lazy puffs of charcoal smoke, arced above her while the railcar vibrated beneath her. She lay hidden from the men she’d seen returning to town.
Relief rendered her aches and pains insignificant. This part of her plan had worked. She was leaving Dodge and everyone in it. She closed her eyes against the memory of whiskey-colored eyes. Her future lay elsewhere.
All cattle trains leaving Dodge went to Chicago’s Union Stockyards. At the end of the rail line, a new town awaited. From all accounts, it was a bustling rabbit warren of streets where a runaway might hope to disappear. She couldn’t hope to go farther. Not without Edward’s jewelry box and watch to pave her way.
What should she do when she reached Chicago? Could she keep the boy’s garb and find work in the cattle yards? In four days, she’d find out. She’d have new challenges. All of which she must face alone.
The warmth of the sun vanished. When she opened her eyes, a silhouette the size of a bear descended toward her. Panic sent her rolling sideways and scrambling across the coals. A rough hand seized the back of her collar and hauled her up onto her toes. Then her feet left the coal bed. She dangled in the air, as if she were as light as a child’s toy.
“We got another stowaway,” a baritone voice announced above her head.
“Toss him down.” The high-pitched reply came fast and from far below.
“No!” Her shriek ended when she hit the ground. Pain knifed into her hip, stabbing up her ribs and down her thigh. Her momentum sent her tumbling. Each bounce inflicted another bruising wallop on a new part of her body. She couldn’t do anything but curl into a ball—until she crashed into something hard and stopped.
“Jesus H. Christ! When I said to toss him, I didn’t mean on me.”
Arms wrapped around her aching body, she squinted up at the thin man furiously rubbing his shins. When he lifted his head to glare at her, she recognized the close-set eyes and pointy nose under the short brim of his hat. His soot-covered overalls confirmed her worst nightmare. She’d seen this rat-faced brakeman at the Star.
And if she knew him, he knew Sadie Sullivan
.
She scuttled backward on her heels and her butt.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed the shoulder of her coat and thrust his nose close to hers. “You ain’t leaving till you learn not to steal a free ride on our train.”
She lowered her chin and tried to hide under her hat. The blur of his arm swinging toward her made her duck even further. The crown of her hat took the brunt of his slap. The cord yanked tight under her chin before it snapped. Released from its tether, her hat flew into the air. Her hair did the same before falling around her shoulders.
A gasp of surprise whistled in her ear followed by a hushed voice. “You’re the whore John’s searching fer.” He swept off his own hat and used it to beat the dust from her clothing, clouding the air even more. She coughed and winced, his whacks reminding her of every bruise.
“Reckon the boy’s taken enough punishment.” The deep voice grew louder, coming closer. “When I get done climbing down from this car, you’d better have turned him loose. We gotta get this train moving.”
Do as the bear says. Release me, you horrible little rodent.
Her captor yanked her to her knees so she faced the train. “But look! The he you threw off the coal car is a she.”
Clenching her teeth against the pain she knew would follow, she lurched to her feet and tried to run. A hand as heavy as an enormous paw grasped her head and forced her face skyward. She glared up at the same massive silhouette that’d thrown her off the train.
A moment of silence stretched her nerves tight.
“She’s the escaped whore.” Excitement raised the thin man’s voice to a squeak. “The one with the French pox.”
“I know who she is,” came the answering grumble. “I’ve eyeballed her at the Star, same as you.”
“John said we gotta return her to the madam.”
“All in good time.”
A cold sweat turned her skin to ice. She wanted to see John right now. “He’s offering a reward.”
Between Love and Lies Page 12
