Love Finds You in Deadwood, South Dakota

by Tracey Cross

  Having her Bible close meant everything to Jane during these wretched days when she was held prisoner by Danny’s kidnapping. The words of the Psalms offered her hope, the only hope in her world. Waking up to such a gloomy outlook, she had to hang on to the memory that God loved Danny even more than she did. He loved this new baby, and somehow God would work everything out for her good, for Danny’s good, for the baby’s good. Somehow.

  She only hoped God’s plan included a speedy reconciliation with her boy. Her arms ached to hold his warm little body close. Her ears strained for the sound of his laughter. And even in this place where it seemed like God couldn’t possibly live, she reminded herself that God was always with her and that He would be with her son as well.

  She tried to let the thought sink in and bring her peace, but the combination of her headache, hunger, pregnancy discomfort, and loneliness mocked her efforts.

  When even the Psalms didn’t help, she closed the Bible and stared at the wall, fighting against the tears and the growing despair. When would she ever see her son again?

  Chapter Ten

  Late July

  Franklin entered Deadwood on horseback at three in the morning. Even late in July the overnight air sank through his shirt and chilled his skin. He knew the saloon business was waning this time of morning, and he was tempted to head straight for Bedlow’s Saloon, but it would be better during the day when even fewer men hung around. Miners were busy panning for gold during the day, although most of the mines had been gutted after four years of continuous streams of hopefuls. He hadn’t seen much except for a few flakes of gold dust here and there.

  He headed for his house. By the time he had Tryst brushed down, fed, and put up for the night, Huan had somehow discovered his presence and greeted him at the door.

  “Good be home,” he said, bowing in his characteristically Chinese way.

  Franklin knew it was a sign of respect, knew it was the Chinese way, but tonight it irritated him. “Please, stop bowing like I’m some kind of king of England or something.”

  “So solly, Mistah Lloyd.”

  Franklin sighed. “What are you doing up so late?”

  “You home.”

  “Okay, okay. Go back to bed. I’ll take care of myself for tonight.”

  Huan hesitated.

  “Shen Huan, I mean it. Go to sleep. You don’t have to take care of me in the middle of the night.”

  Three weeks alone on the trail had given Franklin plenty of time to think. And one of the things he’d discovered during that time was that as much as he hated the idea of Bedlow forcing people to work for him, he was often no better. He treated his two servants like slaves. Paying small wages, which was the reason he had originally hired Chinese servants, and expecting their service every moment of the day or night.

  “Huan.”

  The servant was just about out the door. He stopped and turned.

  “I want to hire three more servants to help you and Cookie. Do you know more needing jobs?”

  “We have one brother,” he said in marginally better English than his brother Cheng. “He work saloon.” He scowled. “Bad place.”

  Franklin nodded. “All right. Bring him to help you. And more?”

  “Cheng have wife. She do laundry. Clean house. She not like mean white woman.”

  “Cheng’s married, and they don’t live together?”

  Huan shook his head. “Cheng live here.” It was a simple statement of fact, with no emotion.

  Franklin sat on his bed and tugged wearily at his boots that had grown tight during the long ride. He had pushed especially hard today, knowing he could make it home.

  In a flash, Huan was by his side. He reached for the boots. “I help.”

  “Thanks.”

  Huan grunted as he tugged on the boot.

  “Do you have a god, Huan?”

  Huan glanced up with a frown. “God?”

  “Yeah. Do the Chinese have a god?”

  “Some worship ancestors.”

  “How about you?”

  “I serve Christian God.”

  “You mean the God?”

  Huan nodded and tugged harder. Finally the boot came loose. He stumbled and righted himself. He set it down and reached for the second. “In beginning God created heaven and earth.”

  “From Genesis.”

  “Yes. Bible.”

  This boot came off easier. Huan set it down next to the other and hesitated, waiting for Franklin to finish.

  “Do you read English?”

  Solemnly, Huan shook his head. “Not read at all. Cheng.”

  All this time the brothers had been working for him, Franklin had never thought to ask about their families or religion or really cared about anything except for their service to him.

  Huan quietly left him to his maudlin thoughts and twenty minutes later returned with a bucket of warm water for him to wash. “Thank you, Huan. Please go to bed now, and don’t get up early. As a matter of fact, take tomorrow as a holiday.”

  “Ho-li-day?”

  “In other words, I don’t want to see you working tomorrow.”

  Huan frowned. “I have not pleased Mr. Lloyd?”

  “You’re the best servant in Deadwood.” Franklin smiled and put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “So enjoy a day off and let me fend for myself.”

  Confused and probably a little offended, Huan left Franklin’s room. Sliding into bed, Franklin’s thoughts turned to Jane Albright. He didn’t know for sure why she was with Bedlow. But he would discover the reason tomorrow.

  Knowing he would need all of his strength tomorrow, he closed his eyes, but sleep remained elusive. Finally he drifted, but no more than two hours later, he rose, washed in the cool water left over from Huan’s bucket, dressed, and left the house without coffee or breakfast.

  He hitched the horse to a buggy that had come with the house. He’d never used it, but it seemed more comfortable than the wagon and one horse could pull it, taking less time to prepare.

  By eight o’clock, he pulled the horse to a stop, set the brake on the buggy, and walked inside the saloon.

  A handful of miners sat nursing beer. Several were passed out on tables or the floor, and in the corner an all-night card game continued. He was just about to call out for Jane, when a pretty young girl who looked too innocent and fresh-faced to be in the profession her low-cut, tight outfit suggested, said, “Mr. Lloyd, I’m Molly. A friend of Jane’s. I assume you’ve come to see her.”

  “I have.” He averted his gaze and forced himself to look at the stairs.

  “Come with me. And please, act like you’re coming upstairs for a reason.”

  “I am coming upstairs for a reason, and you know it’s not for that.”

  “Yes, but if you don’t pretend it is, you’ll be stopped.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I hope you have ten dollars. Because that’s what it’s going to cost you to get past Big George there at the top of the stairs.”

  Franklin glanced up to find an enormous black man with arms the size of cannonballs. He dug into his pocket, found the bill, and handed it over to the girl, who slapped it in the bodyguard’s hand.

  He had no idea how he would get Jane past the guard. He would have to think about that when the time came. “Where is she?” he whispered.

  “Shh.” She pressed herself back against the wall and pulled him in. Franklin knew she was playing a game and went along. Pressing his face into the hollow of her neck, he wondered exactly what they were doing and how this would get him close to Jane. Molly’s too-strong perfume nearly gagged him and robbed him of any desire he might have felt being this close to an ill-clad woman after so many years. He realized what she was doing when another pair breezed past them without a second look. Molly pushed him away, took his hand, and resumed her walk down the hall. She stopped in front of a door. Looking back and forth, she went inside and pulled him after her.

  Franklin’s heart nearly stopped. Jane lay in the bed, her eyes clo
sed. A bandage covered her entire forehead and both eyes were black. Outraged, he swung around. “What happened to her? Did Bedlow do that?”

  Reaching out, Molly gave his arm a hard pinch. “Shut up, you imbecile. Do you want Big George to come in here and knock you senseless? I’ve seen him do it with one hit. And you aren’t that big.”

  “What happened?”

  “A jealous woman threw something at her and cut her head open. The doctor had to stitch it up, but she’s still dizzy and hurt.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Four days. The doc says she’ll be in bed for a week.”

  He moved closer to the bed and knelt at her side. He could see under the covers that her condition was as he suspected before he left Deadwood. “When will her baby come?”

  “She thinks about a month.” Molly drew in a breath and released it slowly. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it came early, the way she works.”

  “What sort of work is Bedlow forcing on her?”

  “Well, she’s not a prostitute, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “It was one of the things I was worried about. It would kill Jane to be forced to do something against her moral convictions.”

  “Yes.” Molly touched his shoulder. “Let me wake her up, so she doesn’t become afraid.”

  He moved out of the way. Molly sat down on the bed next to Jane.

  “Jane,” she whispered, “time to wake up.”

  A moan escaped Jane’s lips.

  “Jane, Franklin’s come to see you. Hurry and open your eyes before someone finds him in here instead of my room.”

  Jane opened her eyes. “Why are you wearing Vera’s dress?”

  “Because her things are up for grabs.” She moved the bedclothes. “You need to get up.”

  “Wait. Why are Vera’s things up for grabs?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Molly slowed down her pace and took a breath. “She was beaten badly. Almost died. Bedlow gave us all her clothes. When she’s better, she’ll be stripped back down to a chemise and pantalettes.”

  “But I asked Trent not to harm her.”

  “Don’t be naïve, Jane. Do you really think he wouldn’t beat her just because you asked him? He beat her and locked her away in your little room and gave me hers. No one has seen or heard from her in days. Cook isn’t even allowed to take her food.”

  Franklin stepped forward. “Jane.”

  She turned to him, as though just registering that Molly had said he was here. As soon as their eyes met, tears filled hers. Those beautiful blue eyes that now had black and purple bruises around them. “Franklin,” she whispered.

  That was all he needed to hear. He nudged Molly out of the way and bent forward. He wrapped her in the quilt that was placed over her and lifted. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Franklin, wait.”

  “I don’t care why you’re here. I know you don’t love Bedlow.” She was so light he barely registered the weight. He could feel her bones. He pressed kisses to her cheeks, chin, careful to avoid her forehead. “Sweetheart, we need to get you out of here.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks. “I can’t go.”

  “I know all about that so-called debt you supposedly owe. Don’t worry. I’ll pay it even though you don’t owe it.” He walked through the door and to the hall. “Don’t speak.”

  Big George turned. He stared at them. “Where you takin’ Miss Jane?”

  Franklin sized him up. There was no way he was any sort of match for the massive man. So he prayed a simple, God help me. “She doesn’t belong in a place like this. I’m taking her home with me. I care about her.”

  “I can’t let you take her. She Mr. Bedlow’s woman.”

  Franklin tensed, and his mind filled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers to.

  Molly had come behind him. “George, I’m sorry I lied about him. But he loves Jane, and you know how good she is. How many times has she brought you extra food? And remember when she helped you read that letter from your Sienna back in Texas? Let her go.”

  “Miss Jane, you want to go with this fella?”

  “I can’t, George.” Jane looked up at him. “Franklin, please put me down. I can’t go.”

  From the corner of his eye, Franklin saw movement coming up the steps. Instinctively, he knew it was Bedlow.

  “Yes, Frank. Put Jane down.” Bedlow reached the top of the steps.

  “Why, Jane?”

  “Mr. Bedlow and I have an arrangement. I—I work here when I’m not so ill.”

  She pushed against him and Frank set her on the ornately carpeted hallway. Bedlow stepped forward and slipped an arm possessively about her waist, drawing her close. Closer than a mere employer had any business doing.

  Hot jealousy burned in Franklin. “What sort of work do you do for this vermin?”

  “Careful, Frank.” Bedlow smiled, but his eyes were hard, his voice cold. “It’s impolite to insult a man in his own establishment. Didn’t we cover this lesson already back in Sidney? I seem to remember you insulting me there too.”

  Franklin swallowed down the anger and leveled his gaze at Bedlow, keenly aware that Big George stood only a few feet away. “I will settle her debt with you. With interest.”

  “Tempting, but I’ll have to decline.”

  “Keeping her here against her will is slavery, Bedlow.” Franklin felt Big George shift, and he knew he’d struck a chord. “It’s illegal.”

  “I’m offended you would think me capable of such a thing.” Bedlow shook his head and turned to Jane. “Honey, do you feel as though I’m keeping you against your will?”

  Jane actually smiled up at Bedlow, albeit a wan smile. “Of course not. I have a debt to pay, and it’s my responsibility to pay it.”

  Panic rose inside Franklin. “But I can take care of it for you.”

  “What difference does it make to whom I owe the debt, Mr. Lloyd? You, or Mr. Bedlow? Either way, I am indentured.”

  “No, because you won’t work for me. All you have to do is let me rent the land.”

  “No, Franklin.” Shaking her head, she stared at him. He tried to read the depths of that look. Flesh out the meaning. She was pleading with him to follow her wishes.

  She drew a breath, her face growing pale. Franklin stepped forward, ready to grab her before she fainted. But Big George moved first. Agile for a giant of a man, he blocked Franklin while Bedlow swung her into his arms. “If you’ll excuse us now, Frank, Mrs. Albright has said her piece. She will be staying with me.” Jane slumped against him, her head resting on Bedlow’s shoulder as though she were a bride.

  It was more than Franklin could bear. “I’m leaving.”

  Big George walked him to the top of the steps. “If you know what be good for ya, you’ll leave Miss Jane alone.”

  Franklin turned to him. “Miss Jane is in some sort of trouble. I know she says she’d rather stay, but that’s not the truth. And you are a smart man, George. You know she wants to get away from here.”

  George grabbed him by the arm and started down the stairs, half dragging, half leading Franklin. Franklin’s heart sank. He had hoped that George would be something of an ally for Jane after Molly had implied that Jane had been good to him, but obviously the man was loyal to Mr. Bedlow.

  With an arm like a vise, he held Franklin, opened the door with the other, and flung Franklin outside. “Don’t come back here. She’s safer if you stay away.”

  Franklin stared at the closed door. As he walked back to the buggy, he felt complete and utter defeat.

  Jane allowed Bedlow to lay her gently back in her bed. “Just lay there and get your strength back.” He sat on the bed. Too close for Jane’s comfort, but she forced a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now do you want to tell me why Frank Lloyd felt he could carry you away from me?”

  Oh, Lord. How did she explain without revealin
g too much of her heart? “My husband left me deeply indebted to him.” She smiled. “That’s what brought me to you in the first place.”

  Emotion flashed across his face, and he lifted her hand with one of his and covered it with the other.

  “He wanted to pay my train fare and Danny’s to go away and leave him with my land.” Speaking Danny’s name nearly brought her to tears, but she swallowed back her weakness, knowing Bedlow would not be moved by it right now. “But I refused. More than once.”

  Knowing he would appreciate the larceny of the full story, she told about drugging him, taking the wagon, bartering with her dead husband’s shirts to board the oxen, and then walking the town, trying to find someone who would hire her.

  “You’re a special woman. No wonder Frank’s in love with you too.”

  His words sent a bittersweet rush through her. “He isn’t in love. He just wants my land, and he can’t have it. He gave me six months to pay Tom’s debt, and I’m determined to try.”

  “If you come live with me, your children will have a home.”

  She closed her eyes, feigning the need to do so but quietly praying for the right words.

  But Bedlow saved her the necessity. “Clearly, you are not ready to think about that again.” He patted her thigh.

  She nearly raged at the inappropriate touch but knew she had to remain calm. “Mr. Bedlow, please do not be so familiar when you touch me.”

  He frowned. “Oh, the leg. You proper women—I’ll never understand why things like that matter to you.”

  “Well, it just does. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Okay, for you, I’ll try to be a gentleman.”

  Surprised, she felt heat rush to her face. “Why thank you, Trent.”

  “I enjoy when you call me by my given name. I hope you’ll use it from now on.”

  She had never seen this type of gentleness from him, but she hoped he’d continue. She wanted to be kind without leading him on.

  Molly stood in the corner. When Bedlow turned to her, the hardness returned to his face. He walked toward her. Fear shot to her eyes as he reached out and cupped her face, digging his fingers in. “How did Frank get past Big George?”