by Jodi Thomas
“You’re Dr. Laertes?”
The old man sat down and pulled out a pipe. “That’s me, or at least it was before I got run out of Austin. They claimed I drank too much to be trusted, but the drunks and thieves around this place don’t seem to care.”
Laertes took his time lighting his pipe as if it were the most important thing he’d do all night. “You already owe me a dollar, mister; maybe you should ask your questions.”
“I’m looking for a man who goes by the name T. B. Hawthorne. He’s a gambler who might have passed through here a few months ago.”
Dr. Laertes thought for a minute, obviously running up the time he charged for. Finally, he said, “What was his full name, or did his parents just give him initials?”
Andrew shrugged. “I doubt his parents had anything to do with the name he carried. His son told me the full name was Theodore Benjamin Hawthorne. I’m not sure it was his real name.”
The old doc smiled. “Maybe his mother got pregnant in a bookstore.” He scratched his head. “I think I remember such a high-flying name. Odd fellow, fancied himself an actor. It’s been my experience that once a man works on the stage you can never quite shake acting out of him no matter how hard you try.”
“Did you treat him?”
“No.” Laertes began rummaging through a stack of papers. “I think I played keno with him one night and signed his death certificate the next. To tell you the truth, I was heavy into drink both nights.” He pulled out one paper and straightened, then poured himself a drink and held up a glass to Andrew.
Andrew shook his head and waited while the doctor stared at the paper in his hand.
“Yeah, this is it. He died in an accident about three months ago.” The doc squinted at the paper, pulling it almost to his nose. “Accidentally got caught cheating.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
He thought for a moment and added, “Seems like I heard there were five men at the table with him that night. Sheriff said he found four bullet holes in Hawthorne, so one of the men must have missed. Rather than charge an innocent man, the sheriff told me to rule the death an accident, so I did. Fellow was so shot up I wouldn’t have recognized him if it hadn’t been for his fancy clothes. I remembered them from the night before. Velvet cuffs three inches wide, silver threads in his vest.”
“Do you know if he left anything behind?”
“I wouldn’t know. He was dealing over at the Blue Pony. I heard someone say the woman who owns the place was sweet on him. She might could tell you. I kept his pocket watch to pay for the burial. His bloody clothes had dried to him by the time his box was delivered, so we buried him in what he was wearing. The watch was all I found on him, so he couldn’t have been much of a cheat.”
“Thanks, Doc, you’ve been a great help. What do I owe you for the time and the watch? I’d like to take it back to his little boys.”
“Three for my time and five for the watch.”
Andrew knew there would be no use arguing. Laertes had named his price.
As he walked out of the alley, he tried to think of the story he’d tell Levi and his brother. Accidental death would hurt less than knowing their father was shot for cheating, and he could tell them that their father had said he wanted his sons to have the watch. It wasn’t much of a lie.
The owner of the Blue Pony wasn’t much help. She said she couldn’t really remember the details, only that Hawthorne was always getting into trouble. He liked to lie, pretend he was someone else. She claimed he knew every scam in the book, and she wasn’t surprised they found him full of bullets. If she’d grieved for Hawthorne, it hadn’t been for long.
To Andrew’s surprise, she asked him questions. When he said he had met two little boys who were looking for their father, the tough old girl softened but still didn’t add much information.
When Andrew finally made it back home, it was Madie who let him in the back door. Beth had already gone up to bed, she told him. He noticed the girl was sewing by the fire, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Something bothered Andrew about the saloon woman’s story. She’d been too quick to rattle off what she knew, almost as if she’d rehearsed it as a line in a play.
Crossing to his study, he closed the door and stumbled over the saddlebags he’d been looking for all afternoon. The dirty laundry could wait. Shoving the bags between two bookshelves, he sat down at his now-organized desk and began to write about the doctor.
As real people often did in his life, the doc became a character in a story.
An hour passed, then another and another. When he wrote, time lost all meaning. This was where he lived, where he felt. The brief trips into the real world were interesting, like hunting trips finding information, but it was here where he belonged.
The typewriter on the other side of his desk was silent now. It had rattled all afternoon, and Andrew guessed the new invention had turned out more pages today than it had in the year he’d owned it. But tonight he needed his pen to fight his way through a story about a drunk, almost-blind doctor who sold his time by the minute.
Finally, when the words began to blur across the page, he stood and crossed to the gray couch that was too small for him. He dropped down, not caring that his feet hung off the end. He fell asleep before the dust settled around him.
Sometime after dawn Andrew felt a blanket float over him and then the door closed softly. He rolled over without even looking at the clock and wondered if the shadow in his study was real or one of the many ghosts who drifted through from time to time.
CHAPTER 17
BETH STRETCHED ACROSS MORNING SUNSHINE TO hang the last of the curtains upstairs as the front door popped against the hallway wall.
Climbing down from the stool, she ran for the stairs to tell the boys to be quiet. Andrew must have worked all night, and he needed to at least sleep the morning away. Everyone she’d ever known woke and slept with the sun, but not this strange man who called himself a writer as if it were a real job.
“Miss!” Levi gulped out. He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried hard to breathe. “Miss, come quick.”
Beth grabbed her coat and followed him out. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Madie.” Levi ran ahead of her as if trying to make her go faster. “She’s in trouble. I tried to help, but they knocked me away, so I ran for you. Leonard was hitting them with a stick trying to make them back away when I left.”
Beth lifted her skirts and ran full out like she hadn’t run in years. The minute she turned the corner she saw the problem.
Two young men had Madie pinned against a corner of a half-built house on the new street. Leonard was lying on his back amid a pile of lumber, all twisted as if he’d been tossed there. The thugs were too busy bothering Madie to have even noticed Beth coming.
Beth’s first instinct was to run to the boy, but she knew she had to deal with the men first or more might be hurt.
“I ain’t going with you. I ain’t.” Madie’s eyes were wide with fear.
“Oh, come on, girl. Micah said you wouldn’t mind taking a walk with us. We could go down by the river where no one would see. We’re not going to hurt you. We’ll even bring you right back here when we’re finished.”
“No.” She had a thin board in her hand. Every time one of the men reached for her, she swung. “Go away.”
Beth widened her stance like she’d seen her papa do when facing trouble and took a deep breath. “Stop right there,” she ordered. “Leave that girl alone.”
Both men turned around and laughed. They were big boys whose brains obviously hadn’t kept up with their bodies.
“Go away, lady. This is none of your business,” the older of the two said. He couldn’t have been out of his teens, but there was a hardness about him. “We’re just talking to the girl. A fellow we work with told us to pay her a call if we came by here. Said she knew how to be friendly.”
The younger one, who probably wa
sn’t shaving yet, had the sense to look embarrassed. “We’re not doing nothing. Honest, lady. We just want to take this girl for a walk.”
“I said leave her alone.” Beth wasn’t about to go away.
The older one had turned from rude to mad. “Mind your own damn business. What are you going to do, call out for the sheriff because we want to take her for a walk?”
Beth had heard enough. She opened her coat and pulled out the Colt she always kept by her side. “Go away, now.”
Now she had both boys’ attention. The younger one started to back away, but the older one advanced a few feet. “She’s not going to shoot us, Doug. I’ve dealt with women before, and they don’t have the guts to shoot. Not an unarmed man like me. Right, lady?”
When Beth didn’t move, he added, “Maybe she’s mad because we didn’t ask her for a walk. She’s real pretty, but too old for my liking. It’s the ones her age”—he pointed with his thumb to Madie—“that’s so sweet. They squeal and cry, but in the end you know they want it. I’ve had me a few about her age and it was real nice.”
“Leave,” Beth repeated, “or I’ll fire.”
He took another step closer. “You’re not going to do that lady, ’cause if you do we might hurt the girl. As it is, if you leave and take these little boys with you, I give you my word we’ll bring the girl back in an hour.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “She’ll have been well used and ready to come home. From the looks of her, she ain’t nothing but a housekeeper to the likes of you. Nothing for you to worry about.”
He took one more step toward Beth and reached out as if to knock the gun from her hand.
Beth lowered the weapon and fired. His yell and the one round echoed off the walls of the buildings as if they were in a canyon.
Madie pushed past the other man and ran toward Beth, crying and trying to hold her torn dress together.
Folks came running from every direction. Carpenters from three houses down, store owners, mothers from the other houses. Shots in other parts of town might not draw much attention, but this was a quiet street.
The injured thug yelled that this crazy lady shot his toe off, but the first man on the scene, a barber from half a block down, ignored him as he knelt beside Leonard. Someone else in the crowd cursed at the two men and told the one bleeding to stop yelling or he swore he’d blow another toe off. One stout woman said she knew these two were up to no good from the minute she saw them. Several others agreed.
Beth holstered her gun and moved to Leonard. “How is he?” she asked, as if someone wasn’t hopping around four feet away screaming that he was going to die.
“He took a blow. Looks like from a fist.” The barber raised Leonard up as the boy revived. “He’ll have a shiner, it looks like. Can you see me, son? Is the world looking clear or cloudy?”
Levi pushed between Beth and the barber. “Can you see me, Leo? Can you see me?”
The littler boy nodded and reached for his brother. He wasn’t that much bigger than Leonard, but Levi half carried him while Madie tried to help.
Beth walked away with people whispering about her.
She saw the barber stand, his big hands in fists. “Either of you boys want to file a complaint against her? If you do, I’m guessing you’ll both spend the night in jail ’cause I saw her hugging on a Texas Ranger yesterday morning. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go home and count the toes you have left. Texas Rangers don’t think much of men who hurt women, and we all know what you were planning for the girl. I’m guessing a ranger will aim a little higher than she did.”
All Beth wanted to do was to get back to the house. She had a sobbing Madie and a little boy whose eye was swollen almost closed.
Andrew rushed to meet them at the door when he saw them. Without a word he picked up Leo and carried him to his study. “What happened?” he asked as he pushed the boy’s curls away from his face.
Levi, as always, did all the talking. “You should have seen your wife. Some bad men were bothering Madie and she stormed down the street like an Apache warrior and stood right up to them. When they wouldn’t listen, she shot one’s toe right off.”
Andrew looked up at Beth. “Is that the way it happened?”
“Pretty much. If you can get a cold rag on his eye, I need to go up and see about Madie. She’s had quite a fright.”
Andrew nodded and Beth ran up the stairs.
She found Madie standing at the washstand in her petticoats. As she cried, she scrubbed at her arms.
“Madeline?” Beth said softly, not wanting to startle her.
“I can’t seem to get clean.” She kept scrubbing. “I can still feel their hands on me. They said they wanted a good feel of me, but one held me while the other tried to get his dirty hands under my dress.”
Beth moved closer, seeing that the skin on her arms was almost rubbed raw. “Madie, you’re not dirty. Those are bruises on your arms.”
“I’m dirty,” she sobbed. “They told me I was dirty. They said I was nothing but a little tramp, and once a woman is a tramp she won’t ever be nothing else. The one you shot told me that they was taking me somewhere I could scream all I wanted to and it wouldn’t matter ’cause they was going to have a feel of me whether I like it or not.” She gulped down sobs. “They said that’s how men treat tramps, and since I was one I might as well get used to it.”
“No, you’re not a tramp. No one can tell you what you are. You get to decide what and who you are all by yourself.” Beth looked down where the water had run over the front of the girl’s petticoat. There was no doubt that Madie was pregnant. Beth had lived through many pregnancies with her mother, her aunts, and even her sister Em.
When she looked up, Madie met her stare. To the girl’s credit, she didn’t deny anything. “You going to kick me out, miss? The folks at the café said they would if I ever got in a family way. I hid it from them for as long as I could. That’s why I jumped on your wagon. I had to get to Micah before they kicked me out without any money.”
“What did Micah say?”
“Nothing. He don’t know. He didn’t want me, so I don’t think he’d want my baby.”
“Is it Micah’s baby?”
“No. It’s mine. Only mine. Nobody else’s.”
Beth picked up a towel and wrapped it around the girl, then closed her into a hug. As if she were still a child, Beth rocked Madie back and forth. “You’re staying right here with us, honey. Don’t you worry. We’ll think of something together. I don’t know what, but you are not going through this alone.”
“I ain’t giving it up. My momma gave me up. She didn’t even say a word later when my pa walked me out of the house. She turned her back, like I’d never been a part of her life. I ain’t never doing that.”
“All right,” Beth agreed. “Now you get dried off and put on your other dress. After we eat lunch, I’ll go down to the store and buy material for a new dress that will allow room for that baby to grow. While I’m at it, I’ll buy you some underthings that are looser.”
“I can pay, miss, I got some money.”
Beth shook her head. “We’ll charge it to my husband.”
She left the girl to dress and went back downstairs. Andrew had both boys curled up on the couch while he sat in his chair, leaning back as he read them another one of his stories. Something softened in her heart at the sight. He was a good man. Maybe not brave. Maybe not a fighter. But a good man.
He glanced up at her without pausing in his story, and she had a feeling she’d be in his next story. Probably packing a pistol and smoking a cigar.
When both boys were asleep, he set the book down. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t have time to think; besides, those two were no more frightening than snakes in the garden.”
As the afternoon aged, the house settled into a quiet sanctuary. Andrew worked in his study. Beth and Madie sewed, and the boys played with a game Beth had picked up when she’d bought the material.
When t
he children were finally asleep, Beth collected all the work Andrew had polished and moved to the table near the kitchen to put it in boxes to mail.
“It won’t sell.” He startled her from the doorway. “Not one in ten does.”
“It won’t sell sitting in your study, that’s for sure.”
He was silent for a while, watching her. Then he said, “You were brave today, Beth. Beautiful and brave. You’d be an easy woman to fall in love with.” When she looked up, he added, “But don’t worry, I’m not. I promise. I never will.”
“Why, because you know I’ll shoot you?”
He looked like he was thinking about it. “No, that’s not it. Maybe it’s because you’re bossy and spoiled, always wanting it your way.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Oh, and you’ve got a temper that would set fire to snow. You lie at the drop of a hat. Correction, a hat doesn’t even have to drop before you lie.” He frowned. “Give me a minute and I’ll think of a few more.”
“I don’t lie.” She stood and moved toward him.
“Right, wife.”
She was within a few feet of him. “Despite my faults, I could make you fall in love with me.”
“Not a chance.”
She rocked on her heels, wondering if she should play this game, but what did it matter? She’d be going home in a few days and she’d never see him again. “You up for kissing me good night?”
“You asking?” He folded his arms.
“I am.” She took one more step toward him.
“Take off your gun belt first.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then changed her mind. She unbuckled the belt that had been custom made for her and laid it across the packages to be mailed. When she turned around, she saw the warmth in his brown eyes and knew he’d been waiting, as she had, for the chance to kiss again.
He didn’t move. She knew she’d have to go to him. Her make-believe husband would never advance, and somehow knowing that he didn’t want her enough to charge gave her a challenge she couldn’t resist.
He lowered his arms and she moved against him. When he didn’t lean down, she stood on her toes and touched her mouth to his.
