The Devil You Know

by Jo Goodman

  “Boys,” Mrs. Putty said, pointing two forked fingers at them. “Stop that. It’s not a race.”

  Apparently it was, Calico thought, eyeing the twins up and down. She made a bet with herself that it would be the boy with the more pronounced cowlick who would win. He had a crafty edge. She turned around and slipped an arm through Quill’s. Her yawn was so abrupt that she did not have time to cover it.

  Mrs. Putty, diminutive in size and fussy in demeanor, was instantly sympathetic to her guest’s fatigue. “Oh, you poor dear. Of course you are tired. It’s late, isn’t it? We rarely see folks coming in this time of the night, but I suppose we have to be grateful the train is running again. Are you hungry? I can—”

  Quill interrupted. “Just the room. We had food with us on the train.” He turned the ledger around and pushed it toward her then set the pen aside.

  “Of course, Mr.—” Mrs. Putty absently reset a pin in the collapsing knot at the back of her head while she looked at the ledger. “Yes, I see it here. Mr. McKenna. Very good.” She looked up, regarding Quill with more interest than she had shown upon his arrival. When she finished eyeing him, she made an equally thorough examination of Calico.

  “Mr. and Mrs. McKenna,” she said softly, more to herself than to them. “But no, you haven’t been here before, have you?”

  Quill and Calico exchanged cautious glances as Mrs. Putty thumbed back a page and ran a forefinger down the entries.

  “Here it is,” she said triumphantly. She leaned sideways to look around Quill and catch her boys’ eyes. “You remember the McKennas, don’t you? You carried water for their tub and she gave you good money for your trouble, then later, so did he.” When they nodded, she straightened and pointed out the entry to her guests. “Right here. Mr. and Mrs. Israel McKenna. He must be kin of yours, Mr. McKenna. Look. There’s a similarity in the way you each penned your surname. Lots of flourish in that ‘M’ and ‘K.’”

  Before Quill could reply, Mrs. Putty was going on again. “Strange, or maybe not so strange if you’re related, that you have the look of him.” Her eyes narrowed fractionally. “Except I’d have to say that he’s definitely your darker self.”

  “Sounds about right,” Calico said under her breath. Her comment brought Mrs. Putty’s attention back to her and Calico wondered at her scrutiny.

  Without any prompting from Calico, Mrs. Putty went on. “It’s the oddest thing, dear, that you should be dressed like she was. Dressed in trousers, I mean. Like a man. You don’t resemble her in any other regard, what with you having all that red hair and hers being almost as black as her husband’s.”

  Quill finally found his voice. “You’re certain they were married?”

  “As certain as I can be without asking for proof.”

  From behind Quill and Calico, one of the boys spoke up, “She was wearing a wedding band, Ma. We saw it when she was leaving.”

  Mrs. Putty nodded. “Well, there you have it. She was wearing gloves when she came and went, so I didn’t see it, but my boys were taken with her. Nothing surprising about them noticing.”

  Quill had to make a decision about what he could tell Mrs. Putty without her raising more questions than he wanted to answer. Beginning with a compliment seemed the best overture. “You have a very astute eye, Mrs. Putty, and an excellent recollection of detail. As it happens, Israel and I are kin. We haven’t been in touch for a while, but the last I heard, he was living out this way. My wife and I were going to look him up, and since I’m learning that he’s married, it seems we should arrive bearing gifts. I’m confident we’ll be able to find something suitable to purchase in Lansing, but I’m wondering now if we’ll find Israel and his wife here.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you won’t. He doesn’t live in town. Doesn’t really live outside of it either. I’m thinking they went back to Pancake Valley.” She speared her boys with sharp look. “Is that right, boys? Didn’t you tell me she introduced herself to you as Willa Pancake?”

  “That’s right,” the crafty one said, separating himself from his brother. “I guess she forgot she was married. It seemed like it embarrassed her, ’cause she blushed real pretty like, and told us she was Mrs. McKenna.”

  Mrs. Putty leaned forward and spoke in confidential tones. “I told you the boys were taken with her. They sure did take their time filling that tub.” She straightened and closed the ledger. “You’re one stop away from Jupiter. That’s the end of the line. Anyone there can tell you how to get to Pancake Valley. I’ve never been, but I know the Pancakes have a big spread. Make sure you don’t get lost and end up at Big Bar looking for them. There is no love lost between those families. You don’t have to be from Jupiter to know that.”

  * * *

  Jesse Snow was stretched out on his bunk, head cradled in his palms, and considering his options when Buster kicked one bed leg hard enough to shake him out of his trance. “What the hell?”

  “Get up,” said Buster. “Get your coat and come with me.”

  Jesse pushed himself to his elbows. “I just got back. Can’t it wait?”

  “The way I hear it, you just got back from a week of plowing Mary Edith’s lower forty.”

  “Three days.”

  “Four.”

  “I wasn’t counting. There was nothing else to do in Jupiter.” Aware that other men in the bunkhouse were taking note of this exchange, Jesse reluctantly rolled out of bed and got to his feet. “Give me a minute.”

  “We will talk in the barn.” He jabbed a finger in Jesse’s thin chest. “There is some shit that needs to be shoveled.”

  Jesse waited until Buster was gone before he shrugged. The gesture was meant to impress his bunkmates, but he wasn’t sure it worked. He got dressed to go out, jammed his hat on his head, and went to meet Buster.

  “Who the hell is Sam Easterbrook?”

  Jesse blinked as much from the lantern that Buster held up in his face as from the question he put to him. “Hell if I know. Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I already asked everyone else.”

  “And?”

  “And I gotta feeling someone’s lying to me. My money’s on you.”

  “Well, you’re gonna lose. Where did you hear the name, and why is it so important it’s got your balls shriveled like raisins?”

  Buster told him about Zach’s visit.

  “So?” asked Jesse. “He got something wrong.”

  “No.” Buster shook his head vehemently. “He didn’t. I know Zach. You don’t. He was telling me something. He tried to make it seem as if he wasn’t, but he was.”

  “Sounds complicated.” Jesse jammed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t get what you’re saying.” He suffered Buster’s scrutiny by shifting his weight.

  “Forget that for now. Tell me what Eli was up to in Jupiter.”

  “Wasn’t much to get up to, and that’s a fact. He picked up the contracts when they finally came in and played some cards. Didn’t touch a whore to my knowledge, then again, I was occupied, and we know he prefers to take his girls in Denver.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Buster returned the lantern to its hook, and when he faced Jesse again, his hands were clenched. “Are you sure?”

  Jesse frowned. “I don’t—”

  Buster put one fist squarely in Jesse’s gut, and when Jesse doubled over, the other fist connected with his jaw. “Don’t lie to me,” Buster said, shaking out his hands. “You can have a moment to catch your breath and think about what you want to say.”

  Jesse required that moment to suck in a breath. He couldn’t think at all.

  Buster said, “I’ll help you. Before Eli dragged your ass to Jupiter on his father’s business, he asked me to go with him. He wanted to find out what he could about the man Willa Pancake married. He’s obsessed. Does any of that sound familiar?”

  Jesse was forced to
nod because he couldn’t speak.

  “So you helped him ask around?” When Jesse nodded again, Buster said, “You were there a long time. You better have found out something worth knowing.”

  “Israel,” Jesse said on a breath. “Israel McKenna.” He rubbed his jaw and then worked it back and forth. He was still dazed by the double blows that Buster had delivered, but not so confused that he missed the other man’s slow, satisfied exhale. “What is it? You look relieved.”

  “Do I? I suppose I am. It’s been crossing my mind since I learned that Miss Willa took a husband that maybe she married Buck McKay. Now I know that wouldn’t have crossed yours since you were given the task of disappearing that body, and you swore that you had.”

  “I did. I did just like I was told.”

  “Uh-huh. I wanted to believe that in the worst way, but you can appreciate that my experience with you got me to wondering. Do you think I don’t know that you hide out at Monarch Lake when there’s hard work to be done? You want me to tick off the number of things you were supposed to do that didn’t get done unless someone was standing over you?”

  “You make it sound like it’s all the time. I work plenty and I work hard. And I guess what I did for Eli should count for something.”

  “That’s what I figured you’d say. You might want to tread carefully there.”

  Since Eli had used almost those same words, Jesse recognized they were sincerely meant. He stared back at Buster. “I’m remembering you had a hand it.”

  “And I’m remembering it was after the fact. My mistake was not thinking Eli was serious when he proposed taking back what he lost. Your mistake was being too drunk to care. If I had gotten to the ridge in time, I would have put a stop to it. Eli knows it, and you damn well know it, too. But I didn’t make it in time, and it happened, and that was that. All that was left was for you to clean up the mess you and Eli made of things. Given what was at stake, I didn’t think I had to supervise you getting rid of the body, so I made sure Eli got home with his daddy’s money. What would have served him right was for him to explain how he lost it all in a rolling poker game. I’d give both of my shriveled balls to never have run into Eli when he was hell-bent on revenge. That’s a day you should rue as well. Push is coming to shove, Jesse, just see if it isn’t.”

  Jesse would have thrust his chin out if it wouldn’t have hurt so damn bad. “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that I just had it from Eli that the letter Zach brought over from the valley was an invitation. Seems Happy Pancake is askin’ for a sit-down with him and Malcolm. Genuine peace talks about ending the feud, or so it seems. The best part is those talks are going to happen at the Pancake spread. Like I told you, it’s a relief knowing Eli isn’t going to run into Buck McKay.”

  * * *

  Willa refreshed Israel’s bath with hot water. Annalea had lingered a little too long in the tub, so the water had cooled considerably from the time Willa tucked her into bed and called to Israel that it was safe to come into the kitchen.

  “Hey! Careful with that,” he said when hot water from the kettle splashed his uncovered knees.

  “Sorry.” She proceeded with more caution after that. “When we build that extra bedroom in the spring, I’m thinking we should add a bathing room for privacy.”

  “I could have bathed in the bunkhouse.”

  “And where’s the fun in that for me?” She managed to get out of his way before he splashed her, then she began to fill the kettle again from the pump. “What you do think about a bathing room? It wouldn’t have to be fancy.”

  “Out of the draft would be good enough for me.”

  Willa set the kettle on the stove and went to make sure the back door was closed.

  “I didn’t say that for you to do something about it,” he told her when she returned to the tub. “Sit down. Please. You should be in this bath right now, not me. You’ve got an edge on you so sharp I’m surprised you haven’t cut yourself.”

  Willa sat. She rolled her neck and shoulders and kept her voice low in the event Annalea had crept out of bed and was trying to listen. “I thought I’d be relieved when Zach delivered the letter, but the waiting has been interminable. They could have replied by now, and I think it’s intentionally cruel that they haven’t. I keep wondering if they will set a date like Happy asked them to do, or if they’ll just show up without warning.”

  “I know you’re worried about Annalea.”

  “And you.”

  “Forget about me.” He soaped his arms and shoulders and then stopped suddenly. “I smell lavender.”

  “Annalea wanted the scented salts. I’m sorry. I gave in.”

  “Well, then, as long as it was for Annalea.” He grinned when Willa bent toward the tub and flicked water in his face. “What if you send Annalea with Cutter tomorrow morning? That way if the Barbers just show up, she’ll be gone. You must have thought of it.”

  “I have. This feels different than when you and I left her to go to Lansing. She had Happy here, and while that might not have struck me as a good thing before you came here, it turned out fine for both of them. She had Zach and Cutter, too. You know she’s sweet on Cutter?”

  “I suspected. I don’t think he realizes it, though.”

  “Oh, I know he doesn’t. It’ll pass and he’ll look at her someday when she’s full grown and wonder why he never noticed.”

  “Probably.” He wrung out the sponge and tossed it to her. “You’re still fidgeting. Come fidget with my back.”

  Willa threw the sponge at his head. It would have been more satisfying if he hadn’t caught it. She made a face at him that was in keeping with her childish mood of the moment. When he merely grinned at her, she sighed and folded a towel, then knelt on it so she could wash his back. “You’re going to do this for me.”

  “That is my current plan.” He reached over his shoulder and brushed her hand with his fingertips. “About Annalea . . .” he said, and deliberately did not complete the thought.

  “I’ll speak to Cutter first thing in the morning. You can tell Annalea.”

  He groaned softly. “Do you spend time thinking of ways I can atone for past sins, or are you just naturally gifted?”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Malcolm and Eli Barber arrived in the middle of the afternoon the following day. Cutter had not yet returned from escorting Annalea and John Henry to his mother’s. Willa’s first concern when she saw the Barbers approaching was whether they had crossed paths with her daughter. The timing seemed slightly off for that to have happened, but the fact that she had to worry about it at all was added to her list of grievances against her guests.

  Willa was halfway to the barn when she caught sight of the pair in her peripheral vision. She stopped, braced to face them, and called out for Happy, who was in the smokehouse. Her shout brought Zach out of the barn. His brisk stride allowed him to reach her side before her father loped over.

  Willa turned her head a quarter to sniff the air around Happy. She did not even try to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I smell whiskey. Did you have to? Did you?”

  Happy shifted his weight unsteadily. “Eau de liquor. I always keep a bottle in the smokehouse. Heard you holler that they’re coming, so I splashed myself a little and rinsed out my mouth. Don’t you worry about me, Willa. I’m sober as a man at his own funeral, but those two expect something else.”

  Willa was not entirely sure she could believe him, but it was not a question she could entertain now. The Barbers had closed the distance separating them to fifty yards. “I thought for sure they’d bring Buster with them.”

  Out of the corner of his mouth, Zach said, “Wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’s somewhere around. Is Israel in the house?”

  “Mm-hmm. He was going to follow me to the barn after he found his gloves. We think Annalea made off with them. She was full of spite a
nd spittle this morning. Wanted no part of leaving.”

  There was only enough time for Zach to chuckle quietly before the Barbers were upon them.

  Malcolm brought his mount to a halt and looked over all three members of the welcoming party before he touched the brim of his silver-banded Stetson and nodded to each of them in turn. His attention lingered on Happy. “Still at the bottle, are you? And here I thought negotiations such as you suggested would require some temperance.” He shrugged, tossed his reins to Zach, and dismounted, landing lightly on his feet in spite of the breadth and height of him. “You remember my son?”

  Happy listed sideways as he looked up at Eli. “Sure, I do. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

  Willa surreptitiously caught Happy by the sleeve of his coat and held on in the event he began to topple.

  Happy did not wait for Eli to reply. He grinned toothily at Malcolm. “It’s not escaped my notice that your boy is a whole lot prettier than you, Mal. That has to be his mother’s doing. Or maybe it is his father’s doing. Us men, we don’t ever really know, do we?”

  Malcolm glanced up at Eli. “That’s the sort of thing I warned you about, Eli. No sense taking any part of it to heart. Better you think on how long it took Happy to work himself up to it, and you’ll find it in you to pity him.” He shifted his gaze to Willa, green eyes sharply boring into her. “I know this was your idea, Wilhelmina, so let us dispense with any pretense otherwise. We’re here at your request. I confess to anticipating a more hospitable welcome.”

  Willa showed no reaction when Malcolm used her full name, but inside, her stomach roiled. “And I confess to anticipating the pleasure of your reply. We had no reason to expect you’d be here today.”

  Malcolm’s head tilted to the side and he regarded her narrowly as if parsing her words for truth. “We sent a reply.” Now he favored Eli with the same look he’d had for Willa. Eli bore the scrutiny every bit as well but made no reply until Malcolm added, “Well? Didn’t we?”

  “I gave the reply to Jesse to carry.”