“There were three of you,” J.T. called. “Bring your friend.” The third kid had been the meanest, the one who’d pummeled Gus.
The boys looked at each other, then indicated the opposite side of the alley. J.T. spotted the older boy under a stairwell. He looked scrawny, dirty and mean. J.T. didn’t know who these boys were or why they’d turned into alley rats, but he’d once been like them. He also knew they’d brutalized Gus. Justice had to be served, or else Gus would be mad the way J.T. had stayed mad his entire life. He and Gus had turned the other cheek by offering a meal, but something had to be said about what these boys had done, and J.T. planned to say it. By speaking up, he hoped to teach Gus a lesson that worked better than hitting before you got hit.
“Come on,” he called. “I’m serious about break fast.”
The oldest kid finally stepped into the alley. “It’s a trick, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” J.T. answered. “I want you to apologize to Gus. If that’s a trick, there it is.”
The three boys looked at Gus. Gus glared at them, then looked at J.T. “I—I—I hate them.”
He touched Gus’s shoulder. “I know, kid. You’ve got every right to stay mad, but take it from me—you won’t feel any better if you do. Let’s try this Josh’s way.” If it didn’t work, he and Gus would deal with the brats later.
“All right,” Gus managed.
The third boy approached slowly. The two youngest looked sheepish, while the oldest wore a scowl that put crevices in his youthful face. J.T. stopped them all at the back door. “You,” he said, pointing at the oldest one. “You beat up my friend. We’re willing to put that aside, but you owe him.”
The boy-man stared at J.T. “What do you want?”
J.T. turned to Gus. “It’s your call.”
When Gus’s eyes widened, J.T. remembered the stammering and wished he’d been more careful. He couldn’t backtrack without embarrassing Gus, so he silently hoped—prayed—the boy would speak clearly.
Gus looked the bigger kid in the eye and stared the way J.T. did when he wanted to look mean. The boy took a slow breath and then said, “I want an apology.”
The words came out just fine. J.T. wanted to clap him on the back, but he settled for adding a hard look to Gus’s request.
“Sorry,” the two boys muttered.
“And—” Gus took another breath. Rather than seeming hesitant, it made him foreboding. “I want a promise. Leave me alone.”
J.T. looked at the three boys. “You owe him that much, even more.”
The oldest kid narrowed his eyes. “Who are you, anyway?”
“J. T. Quinn.”
The kid went pale. “You’re J. T. Quinn?”
“The same.” He offered his hand.
The boy stared at him for a good five seconds. In that silent moment, the two of them shared a sad truth. J.T. knew what he was talking about, and the boy knew it. The boy shook J.T.’s hand, then turned to Gus. “I’m sorry for what we did.”
Gus said nothing. He didn’t want to risk stuttering, but neither did forgiveness come easily. He was still scowling when Mary opened the back door.
“There you are!” she said. “I thought you’d— Oh. You’re Todd Roman. I’ve heard about you.”
The boy looked sheepish. What he saw in Mary, J.T. didn’t know. But something had knocked a bit of the cockiness out of him. The boy’s cheeks turned as pink as a girl’s. “I’m sorry about what happened, Miss Larue. My mama would be ashamed of me.”
Mary didn’t soften. “You owe my brother an apology.”
Todd didn’t look pleased, but between Mary and his mother’s memory, he was outnumbered. “It won’t happen again,” he said to Gus. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” said one of the other boys.
“Same here,” said the third.
J.T. thought of his own brothers hurting him in the alley. He’d once vowed to never forgive them, but some of the malice left as he watched Gus stand tall.
“J-just don’t do it again,” he said firmly.
Everyone ignored the slight stammer. Feeling proud, J.T. traded a look with Mary. He wanted to trade more looks like this one, but she still had a formal air, and he still needed a job. Before he thought too much about the future, he had to settle matters with Roy, and he needed to find a job that didn’t require an apron.
“What do you say?” He punched Gus’s arm. “Shall we see who can eat the most hotcakes?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll get busy.” Smiling, Mary went back in the kitchen. The boys followed her, with J.T. bringing up the rear. As he stepped over the threshold, he saw Mary waiting for him at the wash basin. She touched his arm. “That was wonderful.”
“Gus did the hard part.”
“Yes, but you’re good with kids.”
“Not really.” He didn’t know anything about babies and little girls, except that they terrified him. “I know boys and I know men, that’s all.”
He couldn’t read her expression, so he took her hand and squeezed. “What is it, Mary? Talk to me.”
“I have to get to the work.” She sounded businesslike again. “We’ve got four boys who want hotcakes.”
He let her go, but he followed her with his eyes to the stove. Whatever she was hiding, it posed a threat he didn’t understand. Movement in the doorway caught his eye, and he saw Gertie in the purple dress she’d worn last night. With her head high, she walked straight to Mary. “How dare you drag me home like that!”
J.T. saw red. “Now wait just a minute—”
“J.T., no!” Mary’s voice came out in a shriek. “This is between Gertie and me.”
The girl gave him a look more superior than the one she’d used on Mary. “You have a lot of nerve to criticize Roy.”
“He’s dangerous, Miss Larue.”
“And you’re not?”
“Not like Roy.” He had to convince her of Roy’s true character. “He’s not good to women.”
She laughed, but it had an ugly sound. “You abandoned my sister when she was with child, and you think Roy is bad?”
Gertie’s accusation hit him like the first drops of rain from a coming storm. Mary with child…his child. The drops turned into a torrent. A baby…his baby…their baby. Where was it? What had happened after he’d left Abilene? He thought Mary had come to trust him, but he was wrong. Could he have hurt her any more than he had? He didn’t think so. Whatever Gertie had to say, she could say to both of them.
Chapter Nineteen
Forgetting the hotcakes, Mary whirled to face J.T. The anger he’d felt toward Gertie turned to stark confusion directed toward her. She felt the same churning, maybe more because she loved Gertie, and her sister had betrayed her. She wanted to scream at the foolish, bratty girl to shut up. She also wanted desperately to tell J.T. in private about the baby. Their future hung on his reaction, and she didn’t want to blurt the story in front of Gertie.
She gave him a look that begged for patience, then she turned back to her sister. “How dare you!”
“Roy told me everything. You act all prim and proper. But you’re not, are you? You’re a trollop!”
Mary gasped.
J.T.’s voice boomed. “That’s enough!”
Gertie spun in his direction. “Oh, no, it’s not! You’re a worthless piece of trash, Mr. Quinn. Get out of here.”
Mary couldn’t argue with J.T. and Gertie at the same time, so she concentrated on Gertie.
The girl had turned back to her and was screeching like a wet cat. “I want to act and you won’t let me because you’re selfish! It’s not my fault you ruined your life. Do you know what I think? I think you’re a hypocrite, and so does Katrina.”
The hotcakes started to smoke. Flipping them frantically, Mary heard the thud of J.T.’s boots on the wood floor. She turned and saw that he’d whipped off the apron and was approaching Gertie with a steely look in his eyes. Mary couldn’t stand the thought of the two of them tangling. She wa
nted to deal with Gertie on her terms, not his.
“Not now,” she said as he reached the stove. “This is between Gertie and me.”
He stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t cook and deal with Gertie at the same time. The bacon was about to catch fire, and the biscuits had to come out of the oven now.
Enid came through the door. “Those boys want their hotcakes.” She left an order and went back to the dining room.
“Please,” Mary begged J.T. “Just go. We’ll talk later.”
“When?” he insisted.
The bacon spattered and she shrieked. Gertie headed for the door. “I’m leaving.”
He blocked her path. “No, you’re not. You’re going to have a talk with you sister, and if you’re smart you’ll listen to her.” He indicated the spatula in Mary’s hand. “Give me that. I’ll finish the cooking.”
Mary held it away from him. “It would be best if you left.”
“You need help.”
“Please,” she said again. “Leave this to me.” In Abilene she’d wanted him to stay. Today she wanted him to go.
He studied her with sad, angry eyes. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
She hurriedly turned a strip of bacon and motioned to Enid in the dining room. The waitress hurried back through the door. “What is it, miss?”
“Finish up.” Mary handed her the spatula. “I have to speak to Gertie.”
The waitress shook her finger at the girl. “You’re nothing but trouble, young lady. If you were my daughter, I’d—”
“Enid, no.” Berating Gertie would only make her more rebellious. Mary gripped her sister’s arm and dragged her to the back door. J.T. watched with a cool expression and then left through the door to the dining room. She had no idea where he’d go or what he’d do. She only knew the past had been opened like a grave.
She steered Gertie out the door and into the alley. It stank of garbage, and the morning heat promised a scorcher of a day. With no place to sit, she faced her sister standing up. They were equals in height but not experience, though Gertie wouldn’t agree.
“It’s true about J.T. and me,” Mary told her. “We were more than friends, and I conceived. I lost the baby before I came to Denver.” She told Gertie about the scandal, the miscarriage and the murder trial. “That time of my life was ugly and awful. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” she said, more naive than ever. “Besides, I’m old enough to know what I want. You’re holding me back.”
“I’m protecting you.”
“No, you’re not. I’m paying for your mistakes.”
“That’s not true.” Her throat ached with the effort to be calm. “Theater life is more challenging than you know.”
“It’s wonderful.”
“Yes, it is.” Mary had loved being onstage. “But if you love it too much, you’ll forget what’s really important.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Losing hope, Mary pulled out her last weapon against Roy. “I know you don’t trust J.T., but he knows Roy better than you or I do.” She told Gertie about the dead saloon girl and Roy’s debts. “He’s using you to manipulate me. He threatened you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Gertie hadn’t even asked how he’d threatened her, a sure sign that she’d been taken in by Roy and her own ambition. Roy hadn’t seduced her yet, but Mary feared he’d try and succeed. Even more frightening, he’d use Gertie to get what he wanted from J.T.
Gertie shrugged. “I don’t care what Roy supposedly said to J.T. I know Roy, and I trust him.”
“But he’s using you,” Mary insisted.
“I don’t care.” Looking all of seventeen, Gertie lifted her chin. “Some people would say I’m using him.”
Mary gave up. Stepping back, she spoke to her sister as if she were the adult she wanted to be. “No matter what happens, Gertie. I love you. You can come home any time.”
“I love you, too.”
They’d be sisters forever, so Mary hugged Gertie tight. She didn’t want to let go, but the girl broke away with a slight push. Looking foolish and brave, Gertie walked past the stinking garbage cans to the edge of the café. Without glancing back, she cut between two buildings and went to the street.
Alone in the growing heat, Mary thought about J.T. She’d told him to leave and he had. She needed to speak with him, but Gertie’s betrayal posed an immediate threat. The gossip about her would start the minute someone set foot in Katrina’s dress shop. Needing to pick up the pieces of her life, Mary headed to Swan’s Nest without bothering to change clothes or even remove her apron. Enid would close the café for her.
As for J.T., she wondered where he’d gone and what he’d do. It was just like Abilene, except this time she’d ordered him to leave, and it was up to her to do the explaining.
J.T. had gone to the dining room, but he had no intention of leaving the café. He couldn’t get the picture of a child—his child—out of his head. Had Mary given the baby away? Was she paying someone to raise it? He counted the months and years in his head. A baby would be over a year old. Did they have a son or a daughter? Could it walk yet?
He couldn’t imagine Mary giving up a baby, but what choice had he given her? At the thought of an orphanage, he wanted to put his fist through the wall. His own child abandoned just as he’d been abandoned. The thought shamed him. So did the misery he’d inflicted on Mary. Other thoughts came unbidden. Not all babies were born. He’d been in enough brothels to know that desperate women did desperate things. Other times nature took its course. Babies came too soon and died, or they didn’t come at all. Whatever had happened to Mary and their child, he had to know the truth.
He wanted to go after her now, but she needed time with Gertie. He settled for sitting down with Gus and the boys from the alley. Judging by Gus’s hard look, he’d heard Gertie’s accusation. J.T. didn’t want the kid to have him on a pedestal, but neither did he want to lose Gus’s respect. He spoke in a tone just for them. “We’ll talk later.”
Glowering, the boy stabbed a hotcake. J.T. made small talk with the other boys, but he couldn’t stop wondering about Mary and Gertie. His gut told him to go to her, but he had to honor her request to deal with Gertie alone. The boys polished their plates, thanked him for the food and left with friendly words for Gus. J.T. felt good about the meal, but the trouble with Mary put him on edge. He wanted to go after her, but Gus needed an explanation, and J.T. didn’t want Enid to hear it.
“Wait here,” he said to the boy.
He went into the kitchen, where Enid was scrubbing the stove. “Go on home. I’ll finish up.”
She looked at J.T. as if he were vermin. “If what I heard is true, Mr. Quinn, you need to do right by Miss Larue. She’s a fine woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
Enid put her hands on her hips. “If you ask me, men are nothing but trouble.”
J.T. had to agree. Mary had lost everything—a baby, her reputation, her career—while he’d run off like the father of Fancy’s puppies.
Enid gave him another hard look, then wadded up her apron and walked out the door with her words echoing in J.T.’s mind. He wanted to do right by Mary, but he had nothing to offer except his bad name. He had no way to support her, and he cared about such things. Even if he asked, would Mary have him? Not telling him about the baby meant she didn’t trust him after all. J.T. didn’t know much about forgiveness, but he knew he had to ask for it again with full knowledge that he’d left her with child.
He went to the back window, parted the curtain and searched for Mary and Gertie in the alley. When he didn’t see them, he figured they’d stepped out of sight or gone to the apartment. Frustrated, he went back to the dining hall. The boys had left, but Gus was standing by the kitchen door with his arms crossed, looking closer to a man than a boy and ready to hold J.T. accountable. If the
situation hadn’t been so serious, J.T. would have enjoyed the boy’s audacity.
Gus stared at him. “W-w-we need to t-talk.”
“Yes, we do.” Wanting to give the boy the respect he deserved, J.T. sat so that Gus had the advantage of height. Knowing the stammer would be out of control, he spoke for them both. “You heard what Gertie said.”
“I-i-is it true?”
“Yes, it is.” The admission shamed him. “I didn’t know about a baby until now, but that’s no excuse. I need to square things with your sister.”
Gus’s blue eyes burned into him. “Are y-you going to m-m-marry her?”
“It’s up to her.”
“B-b-but you’re going to ask.” It was an order, not a question.
J.T. recalled the conversation they’d had while camping. “I love your sister, Gus. She’s the reason I came to Denver. But it’s not that simple. Do you remember asking me about loving a woman?”
The boy nodded.
“I made a mess of your sister’s life. I’m doing my best to clean it up, but exactly how I do that is up to her.”
Gus uncrossed his arms, but he still had the look of a riled brother protecting his sister. If he’d had a shotgun, J.T. might have been worried…or grateful. He wanted to make Mary his wife, but it felt wrong to ask her when he had nothing to give. He’d eat all the crow Gus or Mary could serve, but he needed a way to pay for the crow.
Still scowling, Gus started stacking the dirty plates. “Y-y-you need to f-fix things with her.”
“You’re right.” Their child hadn’t been conceived in the best way, but he wanted to give the baby and Mary a good life. He just didn’t know how to do it. “I’m not leaving until she comes back.”
“G-g-good.”
The boy scowled again. Even with the stutter, he’d learned how to be menacing. Unable to hold back a proud grin, J.T. held out his hand. “Congratulations, Gus. You stood up for your sister like a grown man. I’m proud of you.”
Stoic, the boy shook back hard. J.T. couldn’t help but be amazed. A stammering twelve-year-old had gotten the best of him. Surprisingly happy about it, he indicated the dishes. “I better get busy. I don’t want your sister walking into a messy kitchen.”
The Outlaw's Return Page 19
