by Jodi Thomas
“That is not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
“Lucky for me I don’t know what you mean. You should be grateful I told Slim that story, or my father and uncles would be riding hard right now to get to you so they could take turns killing you.”
Andrew moved away from Beth as Madie walked through the little dining area on her way upstairs. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’m real lucky.”
Andrew glared at his wife until Madie’s footsteps moved upstairs. “We’ll finish this discussion later, Bethie.”
“Aren’t you going to thank me for getting Slim off your back?”
“No,” Andrew said, and walked to the hallway to get his coat.
CHAPTER 15
COLBY WAS STRAPPING HIS BEDROLL UP WHEN MADIE walked into his room.
“I brought you some biscuits for the ride. I don’t know how far away your ranch is, but these should last you a few days.”
“Thanks. It’s three days of hard riding and I’ve no doubt the rangers will move fast. The longer it takes, the colder the trail of the men who killed my pa will be.” His voice grew hard. “I can’t wait to get back and find out who did this.”
“I don’t want you to go. You’ve been a real friend to me in a world where I’ve had far too few. I’ve never talked with anyone the way I talk to you.”
“Me either.” He stood and moved close. “I’m older than you and I want you to promise me something, Madeline.”
“You only call me that when you’re being very serious.”
“Well, I’m being serious now. I want you to stay with Andrew and Beth. If they move, leave word with the rangers where you’ve gone. Promise me you’ll stay with them.”
“What if they don’t want me to stay? What if they don’t stay together? They don’t seem too happy with each other right now.”
“Promise,” he said softly.
“Why?” She looked up at him, tears floating in her eyes.
“Because I’m coming back to check on you when I get my pa buried and his killers behind bars. It may take me some time, but I swear I’m coming back and making sure you’re safe.”
“You’d really do that?”
“I will, and you’d better be here or with the McLaughlins. I don’t want you going off with the first man who comes along and tells you you’re pretty. Don’t lift your skirt for no one. Do you understand?”
She stared at him and whispered, “No. I’m not sure I do, Colby.”
He leaned closer and kissed her, pressing his lips against hers. When he stepped away, he added, “Now that should make things clearer between us. Don’t go thinking I want to be your man or some fool thing like that. I care about you and want to make sure you and the baby are all right in this world. So you mind what I tell you.”
He picked up his things. “You stay out of trouble, Madeline, and try to be a little more grown up when I get back.”
“I’ll work on it,” she promised. “Could you kiss me again before you go? I liked that kiss.”
“All right, but only one more. You’re too young to be kissed often.”
“I’m fully grown—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Madeline.” He kissed her again, softer this time, and they both smiled when he finished.
She didn’t follow him down the stairs and he didn’t look back. They’d said all they planned to say. He was coming back and she was waiting.
CHAPTER 16
ANDREW TALKED TO SLIM AS COLBY SAID HIS GOOD-BYES to the boys. He knelt on one knee so he could look Levi in the eye. “I want you to keep this twenty-dollar gold piece for me. If the women or one of you need anything, you spend it, but I’ll want an accounting for whatever you buy when I get back. Do you understand?”
Levi nodded.
Sounding very much like their older brother, he added, “You mind the adults, but remember, you’re your own man. You got to take responsibility for whatever you do.”
Levi looked like he was taking an oath. “Yes, sir,” he said, and poked his brother, who only nodded.
When Colby stood, Andrew thought he saw a tear in his eye, but they both turned their attention to the rangers.
Slim Bates swung atop his horse and said he’d pass by the office and tell a few rangers to check on the men hanging around the corner. As of now they weren’t doing anything wrong, but that didn’t mean they weren’t thinking about it.
As the tough old ranger talked, Andrew fought the urge to pull out a pencil and write down the way he said things. He was the walking, talking, real deal. A man who’d fought his way through life. In the early days of Texas these men were the law. They lived with danger as a sidekick, riding straight into fire, never backing down, and all for “forty and found.”
He made a mental note. Forty and found. Forty dollars a month and what food they found along the trail. Not much pay, but what a life. He might never be able to live that kind of life, but Andrew would love to write about it.
When he watched Beth give the old ranger a hug, he realized these were the kind of men she’d been around growing up. No wonder no man measured up. An ordinary man like him wouldn’t have a chance. She played her part as his wife well, though, in front of everyone. She took his arm and stood close to him as she waved good-bye.
Andrew accepted Colby’s handshake. They both promised to keep in touch. In the years he’d been traveling, Andrew found that very few people actually did. He had a few friends he wrote now and then. In fact, he’d written one while camping and hadn’t mailed the letter. It must still be in his journal, stuffed among his dirty clothes. A week ago the letter hadn’t covered a full page; now, he’d be paying extra postage if he caught the friend up on his life.
As Andrew walked into his study, determined to clean out his bags, he found Madie waiting for him. She looked like she’d been crying. The girl was an emotional merry-go-round. If you didn’t like her mood of the moment, wait, and she’d circle around to another one.
“Something wrong?” he asked, feeling like the two words had become his greeting to everyone in the house lately. “You all right, Madie?”
The girl scrubbed her face and straightened. “Mr. McLaughlin, I was wondering if I could stay on with you and the missus. I can cook and clean. I’d work for my food and board; you wouldn’t have to pay me.” Her voice held an edge of panic. “I’d help with the boys too, till you find their father.”
“You didn’t find your man, Micah, did you?” He hadn’t had time to talk with her or Colby about what had happened yesterday morning, but he knew it had been bad news from the looks on both their faces.
“I found him, but he didn’t want me. I ain’t got nowhere else to go, so I was hoping you’d let me stay on for a while.”
He’d never hired any help, but glancing around at his mess of a study, he could see that he could use some. He paid for his laundry and ate most of his meals out. If that changed, it might save him enough money to buy food for the family he now seemed to have. They wouldn’t be here long, so his bank account could probably handle the costs.
“Stay with us, Madie.” Andrew saw Beth in the doorway nodding. “I know you’ll help out where you can and it will be greatly appreciated, but stay as a part of our family. If you need anything, tell Beth, and she’ll charge it to the account at the store.”
Madie beamed. “Really?”
“Really. We couldn’t do without you. We may not be here long, but while we’re here, you’re one of the family.”
The girl started crying and ran out of the room. Crying happy, crying sad, the girl was circling again.
Beth walked into the study as he resumed searching for his saddlebags. “That was a nice thing you did. I was thinking that when I leave, I’ll take her with me if she wants to come along. I’m sure I could find her a job in Anderson Glen near our ranch. It’s just a small town, but folks watch over one another there.”
Andrew had no idea what that would be like. He’d always lived places where he di
dn’t usually know his neighbors’ names. He could never remember a time when he felt “watched after.”
“You planning to end our make-believe marriage soon, are you, wife?” He fought to keep the question casual. He didn’t want her to realize how much it had meant having her here, even for a few days.
“Yes,” she said as she poked at his typewriter. “I’ll leave as soon as the boys find their father and I think of a story to tell my family about how I traded husbands during a train wreck.” She hit one of the keys on the machine. When the ugly machine trembled as if it might fall apart, she stepped back and glared at it as if it were something evil.
Before he said something stupid, he changed the subject. “If I’m going to have four more mouths to feed, I’d better get organized and get back to work.
To his surprise, she said, “Want some help in here?”
He almost forgave her for telling Slim he was incapable of doing his husbandly duty. “I’d love some. Do you know how to use this new Remington model typewriter?” He knew she didn’t, but wondered if she’d admit it.
“Sure,” she lied, as he knew she would. “What is it?”
“It’s the new Sholes and Glidden typewriter. I paid a hundred and twenty-five dollars for it last year in Chicago. It can type words faster than I can write them down.”
She frowned. “I doubt it, the letters aren’t even in order.”
“Trust me, in no time you learn where the letters are. All I have to do to get stories out is to type them on this machine and mail them to an editor. Seems simple, but the steps never seem to fall in order. I’m always getting halfway through one project when another comes along.”
“Show me how to use this machine and I’ll help you.”
“All right, but I warn you, I waste three or four sheets of paper starting over before I get one page right.” He tossed his saddlebags down and began explaining a machine he was sure was possessed of devils. About the time he got it running smoothly and thought he’d get tons of work done, the thing jammed.
Thirty minutes later she was slowly pecking out letters. She wasn’t going half the speed he typed, but she rarely made a mistake. When she did, she got so mad at herself he couldn’t help but laugh.
They took turns typing. He corrected his handwritten stories while she typed, and she corrected his polished copy while he typed.
Three hours later they were talking over an old story Beth had found about the ghost of a cat who lived in a boardinghouse filled with aging gamblers. “You have to send this in,” she begged. “People would love reading this to their children.”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t think it was polished enough. Nothing he wrote was ever polished enough.
“I write them, spend hours making improvements. Sometimes I even type up one or two, and then I never take the time to send them off. Every time I move to a new place it seems I have one more crate of journals and stories to ship along. I figure if I keep this up until I’m fifty I can move to Maine and have a house where all the furniture is made of boxed-up writing, and then I’ll spend my old age reading them all.”
“I could help you with the mailing too. Tell me the places and I’ll pack them up and get Madie to run them over to the post office.”
“Sounds like a plan, but I should warn you most of the stories come back. Most of my luck in making money has been the short articles about the local life out west for newspapers back east. But don’t think you have to help me; I’ll manage fine.”
She stood and placed her fists on her hips. “I’ve never been much help to anyone, Andrew. I’m the baby. The one everyone always spoiled and helped. Even when I was old enough to have chores, my sisters always stepped in to help me finish them. Just this once, I’d like to really be of some use to someone, if only for a few days.” She surveyed the messy office. “And you are about as helpless a man as I’ll be lucky enough to find.”
He bowed slightly. “Happy to be of service. You got yourself a job, my dear. Now, get back to work.”
Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek, then whirled around to the desk.
It was almost two when they finally stopped for lunch. Madie had cooked a soup and left it to warm. While they ate, she told them about going to meet Micah at the train yard. “He wasn’t building me a house. He already had a wife.” She teared up again. “I was a fool. He looked so short and old and mean standing next to Colby.”
“We’ve all been there, falling in love with the wrong person.” Beth took her hand. “I’m almost ten years older than you and I’ve had the same problem. I thought I was in love with a man who felt the same way I did about everything, but he didn’t. I’m glad I didn’t marry him.”
“So am I.” Madie grinned. “What changed your mind? Meeting Mr. McLaughlin, I’m guessing.” She leaned closer and whispered, “He’s quite handsome, you know, even if he does dress funny.”
Beth smiled at Andrew, knowing that he’d heard and was acting like he hadn’t. “Exactly,” she whispered back. “When I met Andrew I was swept off my feet.”
He stood and took her hand. “We’ve got to get back to work, wife.” If they stayed visiting much longer, Beth would let it slip that they weren’t really married.
“I should remind you that I believe women should have the vote in not only elections, but in everything.”
He frowned. “How do you vote today about going back to work?”
“I vote yes.”
“Good, it’s unanimous. We go back. At this rate I may see part of my study floor within hours.” They walked together back to his little study.
As he had all morning, he fought the urge to touch her. Having her so near was a sweet kind of torture.
While Beth and Andrew worked in the study, Madie took the boys with her to the mercantile to buy material for curtains so she could spend the afternoon sewing. The little town house was a great place for the boys to play, but by midafternoon they’d talked Beth into letting them go a block down the street, where a whole new row of houses were being built.
Andrew heard Beth make them promise to sit across the street to watch. “When the workmen quit, you two run home. That means it’s suppertime.”
Both boys shouted and took off running, and Madie yelled her thank-you for no longer having them underfoot.
Andrew couldn’t remember a time since Hannah had been alive that he’d felt so happy. Most of his days passed with no laughs or tears worth remembering. With everyone in his house now, he felt like he’d somehow sat down in the middle of a circus. The boys’ laughter filled the rooms, and Madie liked to hum as she worked. Beth challenged him and bullied him, complaining about his clothes and admiring his writing. When she smiled at him, the whole day got a little brighter.
He didn’t know if the two men watching the house simply got tired, or if the rangers talked to them, but the corner was clear when he peered out. He went up to Colby’s room and checked now and then, but he didn’t see any sign of them all day.
When he called a stop to their work in the study, Beth went to help with supper and Andrew pulled on his coat.
“Going out, husband?” Beth asked. “Tired of my cooking already?”
“I need to check on one last place the boys’ father might have gone, and I don’t dare wait any later.” He leaned and kissed her cheek. “The men watching the house are gone, but I think I’ll leave out the back door to be safe.”
Beth nodded, already busy organizing everything she’d need to cook. Just as she had in his study, she had an order to everything she touched.
“Lock the door behind me.”
She didn’t answer.
He waited on the outside for a minute, then opened the door again and ordered, “I said lock the door behind me.”
A second later the door almost hit his face, and he heard the lock click into place.
He grinned. His make-believe wife sure didn’t like to be bossed around. He was surprised she wasn’t with that hero of hers, Susan B. Anth
ony, fighting for women’s rights. Any man brave enough to really marry Beth McMurray better be willing to let her stand as his equal or she’d probably shoot him with that Colt she kept strapped around her waist and make herself a widow.
As he walked, Andrew thought of how much he’d enjoyed having Beth nearby all day. He tended to get distracted, drifting from one project to another, leaving a trail of half-completed chores. She was a woman on a mission, wanting everything completed. He knew that every ounce of joy he experienced at having her around would draw an equal measure of loneliness when she left, so he’d better enjoy every moment.
The streets seemed to grow darker as he crossed through the town. Smells changed from dinners cooking to rotting food, and trash blew in the road where leaves had before. He was stepping into the worst part of town. He’d heard that now and then a gambler or drunk died in the street and was left to rot. Andrew had no doubt that was true. There were fancy saloons with dancing girls on bright stages, but underneath, there was an ugliness all the drinks and loud laughter couldn’t hide. Life slithered here, and most men who stayed too long couldn’t walk straight.
Turning down a narrow alley, he hurried to the only door along a long brick wall. A faded sign over the door printed out the word DOCTOR. Scratched below it with what must have been a Bowie knife was DR. OSCAR LAERTES.
Andrew pounded on the door. After what seemed like a long time, a white-haired man with a patch over his left eye opened the door. “Where you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m not. I came to ask you a few questions.”
The door started to close.
“I can pay,” Andrew rushed to add.
The door opened again. “All right, but I charge by the minute.” The old man shuffled through a storage room and into a surprisingly clean doctor’s office. The equipment was old, the leather worn across his desk chair, but none of the odors from the streets hung in the air. “Only reason I’m taking the time to talk is it don’t usually get busy this early and I’d like a minute to smoke.”
