“How monstrous.” For a time, Cordelia sat silent. “Perhaps you could send him a letter?”
“And how should I address it? To Mister Clint Palance, The Sierra Nevada Mountains, somewhere between Truckee and Sacramento?”
Cordelia gave a sigh of defeat. “When I open my boarding house, you can come and stay with me.”
Lucy raised her chin high. “Thank you. You’re more than kind, but I won’t be a charity case. Don’t you worry. I’m fine for now.” But for how long? Silently she vowed that from now on, she would only grieve on the inside, not just for Clint but for the loss of her independence, the end of her dignity and self-respect. Abner had taken all that away, leaving her with nothing but a numb emptiness in her heart. She put on a bright smile. “As you can see, I’m making the best of it.”
“So how does Abner feel about living next to the Gold Dust?”
Lucy laughed aloud, a rare occurrence these days. “He’s quoting his Bible verses again.” She stood and assumed Abner’s prophet pose. In a deep voice she pronounced,
“ ‘The drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty.’ I believe that’s Proverbs something-or-other. Oh, and you know how he feels about all the fancy women in town? ‘Do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore lest the land fall to whoredom, and the land become full of wickedness.’ ”
Cordelia broke into laughter. “Then I guess Hangtown fell into wickedness a long time ago, what with all those fancy women we’ve got around here.”
During the days that followed, Cordelia visited often, each time reviving Lucy’s lagging spirits. One day Cordelia came had a strange look on her face. “Is there something wrong?” They sat at Lucy’s kitchen table.
Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.
“You were going to say something?”
“Uh, no, nothing.”
Lucy was about to insist Cordelia speak when the baby started to fret. She took Amy from her cradle and cuddled her in her lap.
“She’s so darling.” Cordelia wasn’t exaggerating. At nearly four months old, Amy was a rosy-cheeked baby with her father’s dark hair and her mother’s big blue eyes. She hardly ever cried, but instead spent her waking hours cooing contentedly, reaching her little fingers out to explore her new world.
“I hate to leave her for a minute, but Abner wants me to work in the store. I’ve hired Molly Sawyer, the doctor’s daughter, to watch her while I’m downstairs. She’s only thirteen but quite responsible.”
“I know who you mean. A pretty little thing. The doctor dotes on her.”
They chatted for a while, mostly about the tea party Cordelia planned to give in the parlor of her new boarding house. “I feel it will be an uplifting event for Hangtown. We could do with a bit of culture around here.”
Tongue in cheek, Lucy asked, “Are you inviting the ladies from the Gold Dust?”
Cordelia pretended to bristle. “Most certainly I am not! Only genteel ladies, if you please.”
“That won’t leave many.” Despite Cordelia’s newfound tolerance, Lucy knew the town’s “painted women,” as Abner sneeringly called them, would never get invited to her parlor for tea.
Again, a peculiar look crossed Cordelia’s face. Again she started to speak, then seemed to think better of it.
Lucy looked her square in the eye. “Out with it. What do you want to say?”
“Nothing ... well, I don’t know if I should tell you or not. It’s just a rumor.”
“Now my curiosity’s aroused. You’ve got to tell me.”
“I’m not one to gossip.”
“Of course not.”
“It’s about Abner, and you really should know.”
“Just tell me.”
“You know how men are.”
“Indeed I do. Now for heaven’s sake, tell me.”
“Sometimes I overhear the men talking at my boarding house. They say ... well, Abner has been seen coming out of the ... you know, the places of ill repute.”
“Whorehouses?”
“Yes, whorehouses, and just about every night.”
Pious, sanctimonious Abner? She couldn’t believe it. “That can’t be true. Abner would never ... They must be wrong. Yes, of course they’re wrong. They must have mistaken him for someone else.”
“Perhaps, but on the other hand, how many tall men with a peg leg and a long black beard could there be in Hangtown?” At Lucy’s stunned silence, Cordelia continued, “I do believe it to be the truth, much as I hate to say it. May I ask a very personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
“You sleep in separate bedrooms?”
“I sleep in Amy’s room.” Lucy smiled. “I once threatened to blow his head off if he touched me. Apparently, he hasn’t forgotten.”
Cordelia screeched with laughter. “Then that might explain ...” She screwed up her face, as if a battle raged within. She finally heaved a resigned sigh. “Since I’ve come this far, I may as well tell you everything. I guess you know Abner is a lusty man, with strong appetites for ... you know.”
“Abner? I had no idea.”
“Well, here’s what you don’t know. While we were on the trail, Abner got himself a bad reputation for bothering the women. He was always touching where he shouldn’t, getting up too close, making suggestive remarks. His actions made us angry, especially because he was so sneaky about it, always going around with that pious, holier-than-thou attitude.” Cordelia paused, apparently gathering her thoughts. “I never told you this, but Abner had the nerve to come to my wagon the night after Nathaniel died and ... it was just awful. He actually thought I would welcome his advances. He said he wanted to ‘comfort’ me and help me find solace in God. I was horrified.”
“Why didn’t you speak up and complain? Why didn’t anyone complain?”
“Far as I know, none of the wives ever said anything. You know what it’s like on a wagon train, what with the men’s tempers so short anything could set them off. Something like that ... well, you know they all have guns. It could have led to bloodshed.”
“I had no idea.”
“Nobody wanted to tell you, but at this point, I think you deserve to know. I suppose you can’t stop him, but you should be aware of what he’s up to every night. Quite frankly, I think we should all keep an eye on him. He doesn’t quite seem normal to me, like he’s some kind of pervert or something.”
“Thanks for telling me. I needed to know.”
Cordelia eased into a warm, friendly smile. “Let’s get on to more pleasant topics, shall we?”
“Yes, let’s.” Lucy didn’t want to think about that loathsome man any more than she had to.
“Don’t forget my tea party.” Cordelia rose to leave. “Next Thursday afternoon. Perhaps you might ask Molly to watch the baby while you take some well-deserved time for yourself.”
That night, like every night, Lucy strained to keep the conversation pleasant between Abner and herself. It wasn’t easy; that horrible moment when he had put his hand over the baby’s face remained etched forever in her memory. Now this latest news ... Cordelia’s revelations simply gave her yet another reason to detest Abner.
“You overcooked the roast,” Abner announced when dinner was done.
“Really?” These days she wouldn’t dream of apologizing. Abner rose from the table and hobbled to the coat rack. A Hangtown doctor had fitted him with a peg leg, which thumped annoyingly across the wooden floor. He donned his coat and hat and headed for the door. “I’m going out.”
“All right.” She’d wondered where he went every night. Now she knew and couldn’t care less. The more time he spent out of the house, the better, as far as she was concerned. She could hardly stand him anymore. Most of the time he treated her like a lowly servant. Only when they worked together in the store did he make any show of affection, all of it false, just meant to create a false impression that they were a loving, congenial couple. Oh, what a hypocrite he was!
She went to the
baby’s room, where she could always find peace and comfort. With a troubled sigh, she sank into the rocking chair by Amy’s crib. Trapped. She gazed at the sleeping baby. She could run away, she supposed, but without any money, where could she go? Back to Boston in disgrace? She’d rather be dead.
Besides, how could she escape when she had a baby to care for? Amy came first, always.
If only Clint would find her! Was he looking? Did he care? No day went by when her agonized thoughts didn’t dwell on Clint. Was he well? Sick? Happy? Sad? Had he found someone else? Was he dead? What torture never to know.
The trunk she’d brought clear from Boston stood in the corner. On an impulse, she went and opened the lid. On top lay the pair of moccasins the Indians had traded for her pan of biscuits. That night on the trail seemed ages ago, almost another lifetime. She carried the moccasins back to the rocking chair. In the darkness, she started to rock, tenderly holding the soft, embroidered buckskin to her cheek. Clint had touched them once. Clint. Her heart swelled with longing. How could she live knowing he was gone forever?
She continued rocking, her tears dampening the moccasins still pressed to her cheek until, from out of nowhere, she remembered something Charlie Dawes had said.
“Did it ever occur to you that you should do what’s best for you? There ain’t no person on this earth should have to be beholden to someone else. That includes you, even if you are a woman.”
Lucy sat straight up. By God, Charlie was right. Out of her own fear and guilt, she’d let Abner take the upper hand. Well, no more. “Follow your heart,” Hannah had said. Damned if she’d spend the rest of her life with Abner. Now wasn’t the time, what with the baby still so little, but the day would come when somehow, some way, she’d leave this place and go find Clint. It might take years. She might have to search the continent over, but once she escaped, she’d either find him or die in the attempt.
On the day of Cordelia’s tea party, Lucy spent the morning downstairs waiting on customers alongside Abner. Chad was there, too. When he wasn’t helping his mother, he enjoyed working in the store. As usual, gold seekers swarmed the aisles, buying everything from pick axes and shovels to tents, blankets, and food. For the most part, the miners were a rough, tough lot, but even the most uncouth showed her the utmost courtesy and respect. If she heard the occasional stray curse word, she simply smiled to herself. After the Butler Brothers, nothing could shock her.
Before she left for Cordelia’s, she ran upstairs to check on the baby and found Molly cuddling her. “I’ll be at Mrs. Benton’s tea party. If you need me—”
“Now, you just run along.” Molly looked up and gave her a bright smile. “Don’t you worry. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will.” Although Lucy never liked to leave the baby, she trusted Molly implicitly. At just thirteen, the doctor’s pretty daughter showed a maturity beyond her years. Soon she’d be a real heartbreaker with her rose petal cheeks, wealth of dark hair, and full red mouth.
Descending the stairs, Lucy felt a spark of anticipation. After weeks of nothing but hard work, how nice to be going to a real indoor, sit-in-the-parlor tea again. She drew Abner aside. “I’m going to Cordelia’s for her tea party.”
Lines of annoyance instantly furrowed Abner’s forehead. “You can’t go. We’re busy today.”
She might’ve known Abner would attempt to spoil her first real social event since she’d left home. Damned if she’d let him. She leaned her head back and looked straight into his eyes. “I’m going to the tea. You can get along without me for an hour or two.”
She’d always found it amusing when, at the least provocation, Abner’s face turned red. A deep crimson she could see through his beard crept over his cheeks, deepening by the moment. Mindful of nearby customers, he gritted his teeth. “How dare you disobey me?”
“Oh, I dare all right.” Amazing what last night’s remembrance of Charlie’s words had done for her. “I may have to live with you, but you’re not going to order me around. Is that clear?”
She turned away and marched out the door. He must be livid, but he’d have to get over it. No longer were they on the trail. They were in a civilized place where getting away with murder wouldn’t be so easy. She wasn’t going to be his slave anymore.
“My, what delightful tea, Cordelia. Is it oolong? What delicious cookies. I must have the recipe.”
Sitting in Cordelia’s frilly parlor, Lucy savored the pure pleasure of mingling with a group of ladies who held their cups gingerly and didn’t slurp. Cordelia’s guests included the cream of Hangtown society: Edwina Sawyer, the doctor’s wife and mother of Molly; Carolyn Washburn, wife of the town’s one-and-only banker; several wives of the town’s leading merchants; and the new school teacher who boarded with Cordelia.
Lucy thoroughly enjoyed the idle, feminine chatter. What a lovely change from having to listen all day to the rough talk of men.
“We ought to make this a regular event,” Edwina Sawyer said. “Why don’t I be the hostess for our next tea? We could discuss forming a lady’s benevolence society, as well as ... what was that?”
From outside, Lucy heard men shouting. Cordelia went to the window, drew back the lace curtain, and looked to her left, toward Schneider’s General Store. “I declare, there’s a crowd gathering in the street. They seem angry. My gracious, they appear to be directly in front of your store.”
Lucy hastened to the window. Dozens of shouting men had gathered in the street. Even as she watched, the crowd grew larger. She set down her teacup. “What on earth? I’d better find out what’s going on.” She started for the front door.
Frowning, Cordelia shook her head. “Perhaps you shouldn’t go out there. Those men look mighty angry to me.”
“I must see about Amy.” Lucy hurried through the door, down the steps, and into the street crowded with men, their faces twisted with rage, shouting, thrusting fists in the air. In a state of growing anxiety, she made her way up the street to where the crowd seemed most heavily congregated, directly in front of Schneider’s General Store. Spying portly Americus Washburn, the banker, she shoved her way to his side and grabbed his arm. “What’s going on? Why are they gathered in front of our store?”
“Why, they—” The dignified banker stopped abruptly when he saw who it was. “Uh, I really don’t know.”
Just then, a rough voice called, “Come out, Abner Schneider!” The crowd immediately picked up the phrase and started chanting, “Come out, Abner Schneider!” over and over, in a chillingly growing roar.
Something was wrong, really wrong. Lucy pushed her way through the crowd and raced up the wooden steps of the store. The front door was closed. Strange. It was never closed in the middle of the day. She turned the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t open. Why was it locked? She peered through the glass. The store seemed empty, but there had to be someone inside. “Let me in!” She started pounding. Behind her, the angry shouts grew louder. She called out again and kept on pounding. Finally she saw Chad through the glass. “Chad, let me in.” By now she was beating on the door with both fists. The young man came to the door. She could see his face, white and frightened. “Let me in. You must let me in!”
Chad unlocked the door and cracked it open. “Quick!” His voice was urgent. In an instant, she slipped inside. The boy slammed the door shut behind her and quickly locked it again. He was trembling.
“What is this? Why is there a crowd outside? Where’s Mister Schneider?”
Chad shook his head. “All I know is, after you left, Mister Schneider asked me to watch the store while he went upstairs. Then, not long after, Molly came running and screaming down the stairs.” He bit his lip, looking as if he wasn’t sure he should go on. “She had blood on her face, and her clothes were torn.” Dismally he added, “I’m real sorry. Molly ran screaming out the door, home I reckon. Not long after, this crowd started gathering. I guess they’re after Mister Schneider for something he did.”
She spoke as calmly as she could
. “Where is Mister Schneider?”
“He’s upstairs, ma’am. I think the baby’s room.”
She thanked Chad, lifted her skirts, and raced up the steps to the second floor. In the baby’s room, she found Amy safe and asleep in her crib. Abner cowered in a corner, his left eye bruised and swollen.
The roar of the crowd grew louder. Over the shouts of, “Come out, Abner Schneider!” she asked, “What happened? Why are they after you? What happened to your eye?”
Ashen-faced, Abner cringed against the wall, hugging himself. His lips trembled. “They’re mad, Lucy, mad! I’ve done nothing wrong. That girl is telling lies.” A sudden, jarring crash came from downstairs. “Dear God, they’ve thrown something through the window!”
Lucy gripped Abner’s shoulders. “For God’s sake, what did you do?”
“Mister Schneider?”
Lucy turned to see Tom Stewart, the town’s newly appointed marshal, standing in the doorway. A tall, imposing figure with a star on his vest and gun on his hip, he addressed Abner. “I’ve been delegated to come get you.”
Abner’s eyes grew wide with terror. “Never! You have no right to come in here.”
“Chad let me in, sir.” The marshal shrugged dismissively. “An angry mob like this isn’t concerned over your rights. Didn’t you hear? Already they’ve broken a window. If you don’t come out, they’ll come in. Do you want that? Do you want them busting up your store?”
Abner spoke in a quavering, almost childlike voice. “What will they do to me?”
“Give you a fair trial. That’s all I can promise.”
“Fair trial?” Abner laughed hysterically. “In Hangtown?”
“It’s the best you’re going to get. Now come along.”
The blood-thirsty crowd was screaming as Tom Stewart led Abner through the front door of Schneider’s General Store. Shouting men surged forward, but when the steely-eyed Marshall raised his hand, they held back.
“This man deserves a fair trial, and long as I’m marshal, he’s going to get one.” He laid his hand over his gun. “If there’s any man not agreeing with me, he’d better step forward.”
Heartbreak Trail Page 27
