by Linda Broday
In all, everyone made Melanie feel welcome and accepted.
A group of them were having tea at Nora’s one afternoon. Becky was playing with Nora’s Willow and Tally’s son, Dillon, both just beginning to toddle. Each time the babies would lose balance and fall, Becky’s little voice would pipe up, “Saw-wee.”
Nora waddled from the kitchen with a plate of cookies, her pretty blond hair curling about her shoulders. Melanie took in her tired eyes and relieved her of the plate. “When is your baby due?”
“About four weeks according to Dr. Mary, and it can’t some soon enough. I didn’t know how much chasing after a little one can exhaust a body.”
Melanie selected a sugar cookie. “I noticed how much older Sawyer is than Willow, so it’s no wonder you didn’t have that problem with her.”
“I didn’t give birth to Willow.” Nora explained that both the baby and Sawyer were orphans. “We found them, and they needed us. The child I’m carrying will be my firstborn.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” Melanie had thought that Willow’s darker skin coloring was a bit odd, considering her parents’ coloring, but hadn’t wanted to pry.
Tally reached for a cookie. “My Violet is adopted as well. There are so many orphans in the world who need homes.”
Joe had confided to Melanie that Violet was blind, and she’d watched the girl get around amazingly well with a long stick she held out in front of her to feel the ground. Sometimes she held onto Bullet and the dog guided her, seeming to sense she needed help that way.
“That is so true.” Melanie sipped her tea. “I’ve traveled around a good bit, and I’ve seen many, all trying their best to survive.”
“Death’s shadow falls over us all.” Tally wiped her son’s nose. “The orphan trains have helped, but I often wonder how many kids are taken in by people just wanting to put them to work.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Nora went to answer it. Melanie heard her say, “Come on in, Rebel. Join our tea party.” Nora returned with an attractive woman whose hair was as black as midnight, also clearly in the family way. She seemed older than Nora, but then this land aged a person fast, so it was difficult to tell.
Melanie laughed. “I think you have something special in the water here.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Melanie, Tait’s wife, and I’m very happy to meet you.”
“Rebel.” She shook Melanie’s hand and untied her bonnet. “I’m married to Travis Lassiter. My Ely thinks the sun rises and sets on Jesse and Joe. What do you think about the kids’ idea of putting on a little circus?”
“Anything that keeps them occupied gets my vote.” Tally poured Rebel some tea. “They have little enough here to occupy them, and I think it’ll be fun entertainment for all of us.”
Nora nodded. “I’m for whatever makes our lives easier. Sawyer already has an assortment of raccoons and rabbits. We also have the goat herd to cull from and a donkey. Jack helped Sawyer catch a badger the other day, but the thing’s so mean I doubt he can tame it. Those teeth scare me.”
Memories swirled around Melanie. “I traveled a lot and once saw a real circus. The performers were exciting, flying through the air and doing stunts. In one of the tents, with all the curiosities, they had this one chicken that played a piano.”
Unease fell over her at the rest of the memories that followed. One of the performers had fallen and broken a leg, and a woman in another tent had told her fortune…
Melanie stilled at the recollection. Her hand trembled, and she sloshed her tea.
“I’m sorry.” She jumped up before Nora could move and went to the kitchen for a dish towel.
“Saw-wee,” Becky said, following.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Just a little spill.” Melanie picked Becky up and hurried to clean her mess.
“When do you expect Tait back?” Rebel reached for a cookie.
“I don’t know, but I miss him.”
“Watch out or he’ll have you fat and rounded like Nora and me.”
“He said he doesn’t want children.”
The women paused in the middle of eating and stared, as though she’d said Tait had shot his horse.
“Why?” Tally asked.
“He basically said an outlaw has no business bringing kids into the world because he won’t live to raise them.”
“Oh Melanie. I’m so sorry.” Tally came around the table to hug her. Becky insisted on getting a hug in too. “Unfortunately, Tait is right. Some do have a short life span. But everyone has to have hope for brighter days. It’s the only thing that keeps a person going.”
“If a man lives every minute like he’s dying, he won’t grab hold of any good times.” Nora lifted Willow into her lap. “Jack was that same way when I first met him. He’d all but given up on life. He’d just been arrested and was on his way to jail, angry that he’d gotten caught. He invited me to come to his hanging. Then the stagecoach wrecked, and it changed everything. For both of us.”
Rebel sipped her tea. “You may not know this, Melanie, but that husband of yours never killed anyone who wasn’t trying to kill him and that’s a fact. Just ask any of the men here. He only shoots in self-defense and only when his back is against the wall.”
Then that meant he hadn’t killed the woman whose clothes he’d kept.
Tally nodded. “And don’t forget, he’s kept this town from sinking into oblivion with part of that filthy railroad money.”
He really does seem to be doing so much good, a small voice whispered. He’s not the money-hungry robber out for his own personal gain that you thought.
“Few know he’s opened his pocket to orphanages and other worthy causes,” Nora added. “Jack tells me a lot about him, which is a good thing because you can’t get two words out of Tait Trinity.”
Very enlightening.
“Maybe one day Tait will come to see that his life isn’t hopeless.” Melanie handed a cookie to Becky. But when he found out she was working to betray him… A shiver sent ice careening through her veins. And her new friends around the table would despise her. The prophecy would come true.
The fortune-teller had peered closely into her outstretched palm. “Be true to a tall, handsome outlaw with silver eyes, or you’ll see untold pain and despair.”
Despite what she’d found in his sod house, Tait appeared to be such a good man, a decent man, and he loved his niece and nephews. No disputing that. Stinging tears pricked the back of her eyes. She couldn’t bring him down and live with herself.
Dear God, a woman had to have some self-respect and honor or she’d be nothing.
But poor Ava. Her sister was depending on her. Dear God!
Melanie got to her feet, clutching Becky. “I have to go.”
“Tomorrow again?” Nora asked.
“Yes.” Melanie grabbed Becky and hurried from the house, away from the circle of new friends, before she said too much.
* * *
Melanie was almost to the hotel, going slower than usual so Becky could keep up, when the clerk at the stage line office hollered that he had a box for her. Curious, she veered course and took it from him.
Who could’ve sent it? There were no markings, which was odd. Her father? Doubtful.
The rectangular box was about a foot long and twice as tall and made no noise when she shook it. She sat Becky in a chair on the hotel porch and unwrapped the brown paper from around it.
She opened the lid and made a strange gurgling sound. She couldn’t move or speak—only stare in horror, her stomach roiling.
The cardboard box was full of long auburn hair. On top was a small container. Her hands shaking, she opened it, and inside was a tooth with dried blood around the roots.
God in heaven! She rocked back and forth, tears rolling down her face. Nausea stole over her in waves, and bile filled her mouth.
Even before sh
e read the letter underneath the hair from Judge McIlroy, she knew the contents were Ava’s.
This is only the beginning. Fulfill your end of the bargain, or I’ll be forced into something more drastic. Unless you want your sweet Ava to suffer, you’d better hurry.
“Mellie sad?” Becky asked.
She’d even forgotten the child was there. Wiping her tears, she smiled. “Nothing to worry your little head over, sweetheart. Let’s go inside.”
A few minutes later up in their suite with Becky playing, Melanie hid the box under the bed and tried to calm her nerves. Every bone in her body screamed that Ava was in the hands of a dangerous madman. What could she do? The only recourse seemed to be to find the stolen money.
Melanie paced back and forth the length of the bedroom. She had to find the money before Tait returned. She couldn’t afford to wait a second longer.
And the top of the bluff seemed the most likely place to start.
With Becky in tow, she went to knock on Rebel Lassiter’s door. Rebel smiled wide and let them in. Her daughter Jenny peeked around her mother.
“I hate to impose, but can you please watch Becky for a bit? I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
“Sure. Jenny was just saying how bored she was with no one to play with.” Rebel laid a hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “Is everything all right?”
Oh, how Melanie wished it was. “Yes. Thank you so much. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Take all the time you need.”
“Bless you, Rebel. I’ll return the favor.” Melanie kissed Becky and hurried to find a shovel. A clock was ticking in her head, and she could hear Ava pleading for her life.
She found a shovel in the barn that everyone used. Grabbing it, she hurried to the path leading up the bluff. Once on top, she glanced around for the best spot to start. She decided to begin next to some large boulders.
With the first shovel of dirt, some of the angst began to settle. Then as she dug, the images of Ava’s beautiful hair and her tooth filled her mind, spurring her on.
But the spot yielded nothing. She filled in the hole and dug another. Then four others. A glance at the low sun showed it sinking fast, and she had to accept defeat. Melanie sank down on a rock and put her head in her hands. This was impossible without Tait telling her where he’d buried the loot. Tears of frustration fell. Ava was depending on her. What would McIlroy do to her sister next?
Melanie held no cards to play.
* * *
The ladies’ tea the next afternoon was mostly filled with more talk of babies and the bigger subject—the children’s circus.
Tally and Rebel had brought their knitting and sat contentedly with their steadily moving needles. Rebel’s pretty yellow, white, and green yarn created a striking snowflake design that sparked Melanie’s interest. “I love the colors you’re using, Rebel. What are you making?”
Rebel smiled. “A sweater for the baby. Do you knit?”
“No, I never learned. My mother died when my sister and I were born—twins, you understand. And my father scoffed at such things as knitting and sewing. He felt they were a pure waste of time.” There had been one caregiver who’d tried to take her and Ava under her wing, the old lady she’d only known as Granny. Only her father yanked them out of bed one night and hurried out of town. She’d later learned her father had gotten caught cheating at the card table and the old woman really was her grandmother. Mac had left his own mother to bear his shame.
Then ten years later, he’d left her and Ava in jail to take his punishment. Disappeared into the night, leaving his girls to rot.
Melanie fought to swallow. Discovering how little he thought of her and Ava had shaken her to the depths of her soul. For all of half a minute at the beginning of her current troubles, she’d thought about trying to find him, beg for his help, but doing so would have been a waste of time. No, she and Ava were better off without him.
But each time she closed her eyes, she saw Ava’s thin face and shorn hair.
“I’d be happy to teach you.” Tally took a sip of tea and snipped her brown yarn, leaving a long tail.
“I might take you up on that.” But what was the use when she wouldn’t be in Hope’s Crossing for much longer?
Besides, they were the wives of Tait’s friends. Once she’d completed her mission to ruin Tait, they’d shun her like a leper. Immense regret swept through her. Damn it!
This town, these friendly people, the idea of friends of her own—they were sucking her in at every turn. She had to remind herself to step back and not fall into their open arms. But darn it, she wanted to finally become a part of something bigger instead of always an outsider looking in. How beautiful it would be to have true friends who would stick by her through thick and thin. And Tait. She didn’t want to give up the man who’d shown her that dreams were possible. She wanted a home, a family of her own—a real life. Permanence was the siren that called to her in the dead of night and every waking moment.
To dig in the dirt, plant things, and be on hand to watch them grow.
To unpack and know she wouldn’t have to leave in a rush.
To stretch, finally stretch her wings, and learn how to be a good person.
A knock came at the door. Nora went to answer it and returned with a newspaper. “Hot off the press, ladies.”
“Oh good. I wonder what the Frontier Gazette has in this issue.” Tally put her knitting away in her bag.
Rebel grinned. “Two pages this time. What juicy news did Monty Roman find to write about?”
Nora refilled all their cups and scanned the articles. “Here’s one on the children’s upcoming circus. Hmm, this is interesting. It mentions the performance date. Next month—September 3rd. I didn’t know they’d set a date. I swear, we’re the last to know anything.”
Tally gasped. “That’s only two weeks away!”
“Will they have the animals ready by then?” Melanie asked. Of all the things she was starting to like about Hope’s Crossing, the children’s circus was one she didn’t want to miss. Joe and Jesse were having such fun training the animals. “Jesse worked for hours yesterday trying to teach a raccoon how to sit up on command. It was so cute. Joe had better success with getting a chicken to peck grain off the keys of a toy piano I bought the boys from the mercantile. They’d been determined to try it after I mentioned seeing that once at a circus.”
“I, for one, can’t wait to see what they come up with.” Rebel sighed. “Ely and Jenny are so excited.”
Still perusing the newspaper, Nora squealed. “Oh my goodness, here’s an interview with Tait!”
Melanie mentally slapped herself to keep from ripping the newspaper out of Nora’s hand. “Read it aloud to us, Nora.”
As the woman did, Melanie learned a great deal more about Tait than he’d ever told her. He and Jack were childhood friends, which accounted for their strong bond. His father, a farmer and Methodist preacher, raised four sons and a daughter with his wife. Tait left home at fourteen. Hmmm. He’d not told her that. Where had he gone? Where had he lived? Melanie’s heart ached for the boy he’d been, and she suspected a good portion of his experiences after that helped put the hardness in his eyes. In the interview, Tait called Thomas Trinity hard-nosed, strict, and judgmental. The situation must’ve been intolerable for Tait to have just up and left at such a young age and never returned.
But the most important information in that interview was Tait’s vendetta against the railroad. Suddenly a great deal more about Tait Trinity began to make sense.
She listened to every word of the interview, but there was no mention of a previous wife at all. So whose clothes and things were packed away in his sod house? He’d probably have mentioned it to the children if they were his sister’s. His mother?
Damn it, Tait! Why didn’t you tell me more? Why don’t you trust me?
Why shou
ld he? They were still practically strangers.
Melanie’s brain whirled with the possible implications of what she’d discovered. It was possible Tait’s woman, whoever she had been, had died in childbirth. It could explain why he couldn’t bear to think of having children.
But why keep her bloody shawl?
A memory slammed into her. She was passing through St. Louis a while back and read a sad story in the newspaper. A man’s wife had died, and he’d been so locked in grief he couldn’t accept it. For a year or more, he’d ignored the smell and kept her propped up in a chair. The grief-stricken man had talked to her corpse like she was alive. Maybe that’s the way it was with Tait—if he kept the woman’s things close, he would never have to say goodbye.
Melanie wanted to cry for him. From the boxes of women’s personals, he appeared to be locked in a situation similar to her own. He was held fast by the past as she was by the law.
If only she could ask her new friends. The ladies would probably know, but going behind Tait’s back would sure get him riled. She would be upset if the situation were reversed. No, she’d face him directly but gently and ferret out the truth. But why the need to know? This had nothing to do with the reason she’d come to marry him.
Unless… Maybe that had something to do with where he’d hidden the money. Maybe he’d buried it with the mystery woman.
She had to go get her own newspaper and look over the article more carefully when she had time to think things through. Saying she didn’t feel well, Melanie collected Becky and left the gathering. On the way to the newspaper office, she ran into Joe and Jesse, and they begged her to leave Becky with them. They seemed to have such a closeness with their little sister, and it melted Melanie’s heart.
Monty Roman got up from his desk when she entered the newspaper office and hurried forward to greet her. “Mrs. Trinity, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’d like to buy one of your papers.” She took a penny from her pocket.
“Please, you don’t need to pay since your husband gave me the interview.”
“I insist.” She pressed the penny into his hand, noting two missing fingers. She wondered what had happened. He was a fairly young man, no more than thirty at the most. His nut-brown eyes gazed at her so intently that she took a step back.
