Wolf Shadow

by Madeline Baker

  “I’m sorry to cause you trouble, Cyn. Where’s the letter?”

  Cynthia waved at one of the chairs. “Sit down.” She smothered another yawn. “I’ll get it.”

  Teressa was too excited to sit. She walked to the window, looked out, walked back to the center of the room.

  Cynthia returned a few minutes later. “Here.” She extended a white envelope. “What does he say?”

  Teressa’s fingers were shaking as she opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper. She read the words quickly.

  Teressa, I’m sorry about yesterday. I was detained. If you can get away, meet me at the hotel where we met before. I’ll wait until midnight. Chance.

  “Well,” Cynthia said, “what does it say?”

  “He wants me to meet him at the hotel today.”

  “What time?”

  “Any time. He said he’ll wait until midnight.”

  Cynthia sighed, her hands clutched to her breasts. “That’s so romantic. Just like Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Who are they? Romeo and Juliet?”

  “It’s a play by Shakespeare about a boy and girl who fall in love. But their families are enemies and refuse to let them be married. Anyway, it has a very unhappy ending.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They died.”

  “Oh!”

  “Let’s hope your romance has a happier ending,” Cynthia said, giving her a hug. “Just be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Returning home, Teressa was relieved to find that her parents were still abed. Tiptoeing up the back stairs, she entered her bedroom and closed the door, then took Wolf’s note from her pocket and read it again. Detained? Though he hadn’t said so, she was certain her father had something to do with that. But what?

  After changing into her nightgown, she slipped back into bed and drew the covers up to her chin. She hadn’t intended to go back to sleep but she woke with a start when Marie came in to light the fire and lay out her clothes for the day.

  A short time later, clad in a clean dress, her hair in a long braid down her back, Teressa went downstairs to breakfast.

  “Good morning,” her mother said, smiling.

  “Good morning, Mama. Papa.”

  Her father lowered his morning paper and smiled at her. “You slept late,” he remarked.

  Teressa shrugged as she slid into her chair. Lifting the cover on the tray in the center of the table, she helped herself to ham and eggs and biscuits.

  “Have you any plans for this afternoon?” her father asked.

  “I thought I might go shopping with Cynthia later. Why?”

  “No reason. You’d better finish your breakfast. Russell will be here for your lesson shortly.”

  Teressa nodded. Mr. Russell was her tutor. He said she was making remarkable progress. Even Teressa was surprised at how quickly things came back to her.

  They were almost finished with the meal when the butler entered the room.

  “What is it, Hart?” her father asked.

  “There is a gentleman to see you, sir.”

  “Take him into the library. I’ll join him there in a few minutes.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Business at home so early in the morning, Eduardo?” Rosalia inquired.

  “Yes, my dear.” He finished his coffee, wiped his mouth, laid the napkin aside. “Forgive me.”

  Rosalia smiled up at him. “Of course.”

  Teressa waited until her father had left the room, then rose. “I need to get my books,” she said. “I don’t want to keep Mr. Russell waiting.”

  Rosalia nodded.

  Teressa left the room. Her mother wouldn’t leave the dining room until she’d had another cup of tea.

  As stealthily as she could, Teressa made her way toward the library, located at the far end of the house. The door was closed, but not latched. Leaning closer, she heard a voice she didn’t recognize.

  “Followed him to the hotel where they met before.”

  “He’s there now?”

  “Yes, sir. Shall we take him?”

  Her father didn’t answer right away, and then he said, “Not yet. But if my daughter arrives, you are to intercept her and bring her home.”

  “And McCloud?”

  “Have someone watch him. And this time don’t let him get away!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  At the sound of footsteps, she turned and hurried up the stairs to her room. Stunned by what she had heard, she closed the door, then leaned back against it, more certain than ever that her father had somehow kept Chance from coming to the house on Sunday. What kind of game was her father playing? And if he knew she was seeing Chance, why didn’t he say so?

  Grabbing her books, she went downstairs. Mr. Russell arrived moments later. Try as she might, she couldn’t concentrate on her lessons, couldn’t think of anything but Wolf. Was his life in danger because of her? More than once, Mr. Russell asked her where her mind was. At last, her lessons were over and Mr. Russell took his leave, saying that he hoped she would be more attentive next time.

  She was glad her father hadn’t come home for lunch. She didn’t think she could sit through a meal with him and not demand to know what he had done to Wolf. Her mother chatted about a birthday party one of her friends was giving for a mutual acquaintance, which relieved Teressa of having to make small talk.

  When the meal was over, she called for the carriage. Twenty minutes later, she was sitting at a small round table with Cynthia in Cynthia’s sitting room.

  “I need your help, Cyn.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that gorgeous man?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do?”

  “I want you to go to the hotel and meet him. My father is having Wolf followed, so I can’t go.”

  Cynthia’s face lit up. “Oh, this is so exciting! I feel like a spy. What should I tell him?”

  “Tell him he’s being watched and…” Teressa frowned. “I don’t know! If he’s being followed, there’s no way for us to meet.”

  Cynthia tapped her fingers on the table. “Maybe he needs a disguise?”

  “A disguise?”

  “Of course! Let’s see. What about one of my father’s suits? Oh! Even better. What about one of Helga’s dresses? He could wear one of her big hats, too, to hide his face. She has one with a black veil that she wears to church.”

  “Wolf? In a dress?” Teressa burst out laughing.

  “They’re about the same size,” Cynthia said, giggling. “He could even wear her dress over his own clothes.”

  “It’s worth a try. If he’s willing, tell him to meet us at St. Mathias at two o’clock.”

  “Us?”

  “Of course. No one will suspect three women going to church.”

  Cynthia grinned. “Are you going to wait for me here?”

  “No. Someone might be watching me, too. I’ll have Mason drive me to town and drop me off at Lawson’s. I’ll go out the back door and meet you at the church. Are you sure you want to do this, Cyn?” Teressa asked. “After all, your reputation…”

  “Fiddlesticks! You’re my best friend.” Cynthia said, patting Teressa’s shoulder. “I’ll see you at St. Mathias at two.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chance paced the floor of his hotel room, wondering if Teressa had received his message, wondering if she would come.

  He lifted a hand to his head. He had taken the time to stop and see a doctor the night before. The sawbones had cleaned the wound, remarking that Chance was lucky he had such a hard head.

  The clock had just struck the quarter hour when there was a knock at the door. Bless the girl. She was here.

  Her name was on his lips as he opened the door, but it wasn’t Teressa. It was her friend, carrying a wrapped parcel in a large string bag.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning.

  “May I come in? I have a message from Tessa.”

  Chance
stepped back to allow her into the room, then closed the door behind her.

  He listened somewhat skeptically as Cynthia told him their plan. When she finished, he eyed the parcel she had placed on the bed.

  “Hurry,” she said, “it’s almost two.”

  Chance opened the package to reveal a dark brown and green dress and a large, floppy-brimmed hat with a veil. “You want me to wear this?”

  Cynthia nodded. “No one will recognize you.”

  Chance grunted. That was for damn sure. “What about shoes?”

  “I can’t help you there. Helga has very small feet, but I think the dress is long enough to cover your boots.”

  Chance shook his head, then reached for the dress, pulled it over his head, and shoved his arms into the sleeves.

  “It fits,” Cynthia exclaimed. Moving around behind him, she began to button up the back. “Your gun makes a large lump on your hip. Maybe you’d better take it off.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You can wrap it up in the paper and I can carry it in my bag.”

  Chance considered that for a moment, then nodded. Reaching under the skirt, he removed his gunbelt and wrapped it in brown paper, then put it in the bag.

  Cynthia put the hat on his head and dropped the veil in place. “Your long hair adds the perfect touch,” she remarked. “Let me see you walk.”

  “Walk?”

  She nodded and made a “get-along” motion with her hand.

  Chance walked across the floor.

  “No, no, no,” Cynthia said. “You have to take much smaller steps, and try to move your hips a little, like this.” She walked to the window and back. “See?”

  With a shake of his head, Chance tried again.

  “That’s a little better. Try again.”

  With an aggrieved sigh, Chance shortened his stride and tried to put a sway in his walk.

  Ten minutes later, Cynthia was of the opinion that he was as good as he was going to get.

  “Let’s go.” She picked up her bag, a small gasp of surprise issuing from her lips. “How do you wear this thing? It’s so heavy.”

  Chance shrugged.

  “Remember,” she said, opening the door. “Small steps. And keep your head down.”

  Feeling like a fool, Chance followed Cynthia down the stairway and out of the hotel. She had a carriage waiting out front. He watched her climb in. She was all grace and elegance. Following her inside, he was certain he looked anything but graceful.

  Once the carriage was under way, he glanced out the window. No one seemed to be following them.

  St. Mathias was located on the corner of a quiet intersection. When the carriage came to a halt, the driver hopped down from the box to open the door.

  Chance put his hand on Cynthia’s arm to stay her. “Wait a minute,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you, Parker. I believe we’ll just sit here a moment.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the driver replied, and moved away from the carriage.

  “What are we waiting for?” Cynthia asked.

  “To see if anyone comes up behind us.”

  They sat there for perhaps five minutes before Chance deemed it safe to enter the church.

  Teressa was waiting for them on the back pew. There was no one else in the church save for an elderly woman kneeling at the altar.

  Chance slid into the pew beside Teressa, and Cynthia slid in beside him.

  Teressa looked at him and burst out laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth when the elderly woman turned to stare at her.

  “I overheard my father talking this morning,” Teressa said, her voice low. “What did he do to you?”

  “He tried to shanghai me.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “He wouldn’t!”

  “Well, he did.”

  “Were you scared?”

  He took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

  “I’m fine.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Now?” She had nothing but the clothes on her back and her reticule, which held only a few dollars and a lace handkerchief.

  “Right now. There’s a train leaving in about thirty minutes.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

  He squeezed her hand. “That’s my girl. I’ll leave first. Cynthia, can you take her to the station?”

  “Of course.” Cynthia pressed one hand to her heart. “Oh, this is so romantic!”

  Chance grinned at the girl’s theatrics. “Tessa, I’ll see you at the station.” He squeezed her hand again. “Be sure to bring Cynthia’s bag with you,” he said, and slid out of the pew.

  Cynthia moved closer to Teressa. “I’ll miss you,” she said woefully.

  “I’ll write to you,” Teressa said. “And you can come to visit us.”

  Cynthia brightened. “Oh, that would be so exciting! What shall I tell your parents when they come looking for you?”

  “Just tell them I’ve gone home.”

  * * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Teressa was sitting beside Chance, who was still in disguise. “What about Smoke?” she asked. “Are you just going to leave her here?”

  “No. I asked the livery man to have her loaded on the next train.”

  “Why didn’t you bring her on this one?”

  “I didn’t want to arouse any suspicion, in case your father’s having the livery watched, too.”

  “Oh. I still can’t believe he tried to shanghai you.” The very thought sent chills down her spine. Men who were shanghaied were rarely seen or heard from again.

  With a shrill whistle and a grinding of wheels, the engine set into motion. Teressa glanced out the window. She couldn’t help feeling a moment of regret at not being able to tell her mother and father goodbye and yet, if it wasn’t for her father, she wouldn’t be running away.

  With a sigh, she settled back in her seat once more. “Are we going to the ranch?”

  “Yeah.” If Bryant came after him again, he wanted to be on his own land.

  Tessa was quiet a moment before she said, “Do you think my father will come after us?”

  “What do you think?” He shifted on the seat. “I feel as if I’m smothering in this thing,” he said, brushing at the veil that covered his face.

  Teressa grinned at him. “I guess you could take it off.”

  “Good idea.”

  The train wasn’t too crowded; there were only a few other people in the car, most of them looking out the window. A woman was crooning softly to the baby in her arms. A man in a suit and tie was reading a newspaper.

  For all that he’d thought no one was paying any attention, all eyes seemed to be on him as he jerked the hat from his head and tossed it on the floor, then turned his back toward Teressa so she could unbutton the dress.

  Chance hadn’t known too many embarrassing moments in his life, but this one topped them all. Rising, he stepped out of the dress and shoved it under the seat, along with the hat. Picking up the string bag, he unwrapped his gunbelt and holster and strapped it on. The familiar weight of a gun on his hip was reassuring.

  He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he hadn’t left his own hat at the hotel.

  Teressa grinned at him. “Welcome back, Mr. McCloud.”

  “Very funny,” he muttered.

  “It was a good idea, though, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Was it yours?”

  “No, Cynthia gets all the credit.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Yes. I’m going to miss her.”

  He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Are you sure about this?”

  She snuggled against him. “I’m sure.”

  “I’d like us to get married as soon as w
e get back to the ranch. How do you feel about that?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. “Wonderful.”

  He kissed her lightly. “We’ll talk to the preacher as soon as we get to Buffalo Springs.”

  The trip to Crooked River was uneventful. Disembarking from the train, they went directly to the stage depot. The next stage to Buffalo Springs wasn’t due until the following afternoon. Chance bought two tickets, and then they walked down the dusty street toward the center of town.

  Crooked River was booming, Chance thought, glancing around. There were new buildings going up on both sides of the street. Several others wore new coats of paint.

  Teressa tugged on his arm and he turned to see her looking in the window of the Bon Ton Millinery Shoppe.

  “Look,” she said, pointing at a white straw hat bedecked with colorful ribbons.

  “It’s pretty.” He ran a hand through his hair, wishing again that he hadn’t left his hat back in ‘Frisco.

  “Do you think I could try it on?”

  “Sure, honey. I’ll wait for you out here.”

  With a smile, she opened the door and stepped inside.

  Chance watched Teressa sit down on a small stool while a gray-haired lady in a dark blue dress handed her the bonnet. Teressa put it on, deftly tied the ribbons beneath her chin, then turned toward the window. She tilted her head to one side, a smile on her face.

  Chance nodded his approval.

  She spoke to the clerk, then pulled two dollars from her bag and handed it to the woman. A moment later, she stepped out on the boardwalk.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Very much.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “I need a new hat, too.”

  “There’s a shop over there,” Teressa said, pointing across the street.

  She entered the store with him, stood quietly while he tried on a black hat with a rolled brim.

  He turned to face her. “What do you think?”

  “I like the tan one.”

  Chance plucked another hat off the shelf. “This one?”

  Teressa nodded.

  Removing the black hat, he tried on the tan one. “All right, the tan one it is.” He paid for the hat, grateful that the men who had shanghaied him hadn’t robbed him as well, although he imagined they would have thought of it sooner or later.