Misty pushed open the door and ran in. “Clover, let her go,” she said as she pulled Mary out of Clover’s hands. She pushed Mary to stand behind her, as Clover circled her.
“Misty, don’t get involved in situations that don’t involve you.”
“It does involve me, as she is my ward, as assigned by Mr. Higgins.” She looked back at Mary, as she cried silently, clutching Misty’s back. “Are you ok?” she asked, to which Mary nodded her head.
“That girl has a job to do, for which she agreed. She can’t turn back now.”
“You weren’t as forthcoming with your intentions. How do you expect her to know what she is supposed to do? She is just a child.”
“She is of legal age, and that’s actually how they like them anyway.”
Misty wanted to smack Clover across the face, but she knew she couldn’t. “Mary will do nothing for you.”
“Well, if she doesn’t, then that man is going to inform Mr. Higgins of the duties that were not done to him. And then he will know exactly the kind of girl Mary is. Do you want that, Mary?” Clover asked, looking past Misty’s shoulders.
Misty looked back at her little sister. A part of her wanted Mr. Higgins to know. Then maybe this whole outside business would end. However, she knew exactly what a bad reputation would do. Mary would not be able to live in this town, not after this. It would be too scandalous, and she knew Mary couldn’t handle that kind of scrutiny. And if she couldn’t save her sister then, here was her second chance.
“Whatever she promised to do, I’ll do it,” Misty said.
Mary stopped her crying as Clover raised an eyebrow. “Misty, no, you mustn’t,” Mary whispered, clutching the sleeves of Misty’s dress.
Ignoring Mary, Misty squared her shoulders and looked Clover in the eye. “If I do this, then Mary is to be absolved of everything. You dare not speak to her. You dare not glance her way. You dare not even breathe in her direction, or I will tell Mr. Higgins of everything that is going on in this hotel.”
Clover laughed. “And in doing so, you would be incriminating yourself.”
She looked back at her little sister. Mary looked at her with wide green eyes, begging her not to go through with it. “If that is what it will take.” She turned back to Clover with a sly smile. “You have to decide what is more important to you? For me, this is the most important.”
Clover hesitated; as if she was weighing the options in her head. Fearlessly, Misty extended her hand to Clover. “Do we have an arrangement?”
Clover smiled cruelly, before taking Misty’s hand and shaking it.
It was a quiet night. John had expected there to be more ruckus; he had explained as much to his sister as he had left her that night. She had protested, wanting him to stay for dinner at least. As much as he had wanted to spend more time with her, duty dictated that he needed to make sacrifices.
But now that he was seated in the sheriff’s office, he thought maybe he should have taken the night off. Maybe he was overreacting; he had been there for an hour and there wasn’t as much as a peep from the outside street. He walked over to the window, surveying the empty street. He looked over to the right, where the dull glow of the bar wafted from its swinging saloon doors. Maybe he would just take a short walk, he mused to himself. It was a crisp night and early enough for him to make the stroll without being too conspicuous. He grabbed his coat and hat from his desk and walked out the door.
He looked up at the night sky as he walked down the street. There weren’t many people out and about; it may have been an early night for him, but it wasn’t for most town citizens. Still, the saloon would be open for a few more hours, which meant there were a few men who were still up. A group of three men were a few meters away. Two were supporting their third, who seemed to have had way too much to drink. As the sheriff approached, he recognized the men as being from the Avery farm. He walked up in time to catch the drunken gentleman as he fell forward. “Woah, there,” John said, setting the gentleman straight on the floor.
“Why thank you, Sherriff,” the gentleman said in slurred words, as his friends crowded around him.
“Thank you, John,” said Gideon Avery. John recognized him as the oldest son of the family. “I have to excuse Frank. Poor guy has had too much to drink,” he said, as he patted his younger brother on the chest. He turned him around and pushed him into the third man’s arms, motioning to the horse and wagon to the left. “We are about to take him back to the farm.”
“I didn’t think I would see you around these parts,” John noted, looking at the men struggling to put Frank in the carriage. Frank was a tall and muscular man, and the alcohol in his system was making his reactions slow. The other man, John recognized him as the foreman on the farm, was taller and burly, but still seemed to be having trouble as he squatted on the ground to try to pick up Frank. He wasn’t having much luck. “Do you need a hand?” John asked.
“No, I got him,” the man growled, taking one huge push which sent Frank flying into the back of the wagon. The man wiped his hands on his pants and went to ready the horse.
John turned back to Gideon, “Rough night?”
Gideon scratched his head and shrugged. “Not really. Frank is just Frank. Chasing his demons in a bottle; and a few others we let go early so they could return tonight to watch the herd. We are setting up night watches on the cattle because of all the disturbances.” John nodded his head. The Avery farm was probably the hardest hit by the cattle rustlers; they had the biggest farm within a few hundred miles. “The other men returned, but Frank didn’t. Figured he was here making a mess,” he said, looking back towards Frank. “He’s always getting himself into trouble since Ruth died. If he wasn’t such a hard worker, I think our father would have kicked him off the farm a long time ago.”
“How are the night watches coming?” John hadn’t visited the farm in a while, since the cattle stealing first started. “I stopped by the Greenberg ranch on my way into town. Seems they have lost a few more cattle and someone damaged their barn.”
“We haven’t had any disturbances, if that what you are asking about. We have hourly shifts for the men. Mama is a bit antsy because she’s not used to having so many people around the ranch at all hours. There is always someone in her kitchen rustling for food, keeping her up at night or dropping dungarees since we increased the number of hands. So, you can imagine how that is. I’d love to get her some help just for the cooking and laundry.” Gideon said with a laugh, which John joined in. Mama Avery was notorious for being a very outspoken woman, but damned if she wasn’t one caring lady. She could cook Old Man Higgins under the table.
A whistle came from the right. Both Gideon and John looked to where the noise was coming from. The gentleman was motioning to Gideon as his wagon was blocking the road. “Looks like we need to get going. Don’t be a stranger, John! Mama and Jilly would love to see you around,” he said with a wink. John awkwardly smiled as Gideon climbed onto the carriage. Jillian, or Jilly, was the youngest Avery, and was flirtatious to the point of being painful. John wasn’t very receptive to the advances of other women, especially those who held a special interest in him. Beatrice would remark that Jillian Avery was a shameless harlot, but Beatrice felt that way about any woman who wanted to draw attention away from her. As he watched the carriage disappear in the distance, he thought about how easy it would be to just take a wife. Although Beatrice would probably disapprove, he felt it would ease a lot of his burden. He didn’t enjoy the female attention, and at times, he felt it interfered with his work. Most women in the area saw him as a prize; he was the notorious bachelor. Being the wife of the town sheriff could raise your status and visibility.
He knew before his father had passed away, there were woman clamoring around him to be his next wife. Some of the women were even as young as his sister’s age! But his father never seemed to be interested in them; he was faithful only to his family and to the law. He knew his father had truly loved their mother. As John had gotten o
lder, it was harder to remember her. She had died while giving birth to Beatrice, so he had only had her for the first 10 years of his life. He would remember memories here and there; they were more intense when he was younger. Now, trivial things in his life would bring back memories. Maybe when he was passing a flower he would remember her scent, or when he would see a mother with their son, he would remember her tender touch.
He locked the thoughts back into his heart. He loved her, but hated thinking about her, hated the empty feeling it gave him. He felt like he was drowning. And he knew why he could never settle for any woman. That feeling was always going to be there and there was no one alive that was going to fill that void in his heart. An image of Misty appeared, fleetingly, until he banished the thought.
The sound of breaking glass took his attention back to the saloon. There were a couple of laughs from the building, but nothing too suspicious. Still, John made his way through the swinging doors. The room was brightly lit and full of men sitting at tables and at the bar. No one seemed to pay him any mind as he made his way to the bar. He saw Earl Clemons cleaning up some broken glass from the edge of the bar. Earl was the owner of the saloon; it was his uncle who had owned it before Carl Gaines came to town and stole it right from under him. When Carl Gaines was arrested for his unspeakable crimes, they found the paperwork to search for the rightful descendants to take over the saloon. Earl looked up at John and smiled. “Hey, Sheriff! What are you doing over here?”
Earl was always so cheerful, John thought, as he leaned into the bar. He was happy to see anyone and everyone. Carl had been defensive and shifty, although after Carl was revealed to be a peddler for young females, he understood why. “I heard a commotion while walking by, so I thought I would stop by.”
“Oh, this?” Earl asked, as he pointed to the broken pieces of glass in his hands. “My hands were wet, and I knocked the glass on the floor. So, nothing going on in here. But let me get you a drink for your time. Your usual?” Earl asked with a smile, as he walked to the other side of the bar to grab another glass.
While Earl was occupied, John surveyed the room. There were tables and chairs, filled with men littering the large room. The stage at the end of the room was empty, although Earl usually had entertainment at this time of night. There were a few poker games going with the usual suspects in attendance. There were only a handful of people John didn’t recognize, which included the two gentlemen to his right. They seemed to be in a serious conversation. It wouldn’t have given John a second thought, until he looked at them closely. Something told him that these two men were up to no good.
“She came into the room with a few blankets, just as I had requested. She wasn’t anything too special, but that wasn’t what I was paying for. But when I grabbed her, she screamed,” said the short man next to him. He looked older than John, maybe by five or so years.
“She screamed?” asked the other man to his side. He was about the same age, with a long black mustache.
“Yes. Strangest thing; it was a Miss Kelly that had set up the transaction. The girl was so flustered,” he said, as he took a sip of his glass. “It was the young girl with the black hair and green eyes. Remember the cute one from the dining room?”
John’s ears perked up. That was the same girl he had seen earlier in the week. A young girl Samantha had brought to the hotel for help. He couldn’t remember the girl’s exact features, but he remembered Misty’s reaction to her appearance.
“Oh yes, I remember,” the mustached man remarked. “She’s a little beauty, that one. I would be interested in her myself. She looks like she would be rather wonderful to enjoy.”
“Well, you’ll have to hold that interest. Apparently, there was a mix up, and she wasn’t the one that was supposed to be at my room. After it all happened, I was upset. But Miss Kelly dropped by my room and explained the situation and said that I would be getting someone else. As it were,” he said, as he emptied his glass, setting it on the wooden bar, “she’s due in my room soon. I wouldn’t want her to wait too long. I believe I am very lucky, to be honest.”
Mustached man clapped his buddy’s shoulder. “And why would you say that? That black-haired girl is one of the prettiest girls there.”
The other man laughed at his friend. “Remember that feisty redhead that served us breakfast this morning?”
“Oh, yes, the one with the green eyes and full lips? You couldn’t take your eyes off her,” he looked at his friend, his eyes dancing with mischief.
John could feel his blood boiling, as the other man cackled a laugh. “She’s the one that will be entertaining me for the night.” He hoped off his stool. “Mustn’t keep the lady waiting,” he said before he picked up his coat that was lying on the stool between him and John.
It happened so fast; John lunged at the man, picking him up by his collar and swinging him over the bar, knocking over the stools between them. The mustached man was trying to get John off his friend, but all John could see was red. He pressed the man into the bar, gritting his teeth. The man he was holding down was wide-eyed and flustered. “Let go of me!” he shouted.
The noise was enough to bring everyone’s attention to the bar. Earl had returned, standing on the other side of the countertop. “Sheriff, what is wrong?” he asked, with alarm in his face. John looked around at all the curious faces. He had never really reacted in such a way; even he didn’t really understand why. But as soon as the man had described Misty and made the insinuations, he just reacted.
He slowed his breath, calmly looking into the man’s face. “I overheard your conversation, and it seems that you and your friend are participating in some illegal entertainment. I have it in my right mind to take you guys down to the jail. Maybe a night’s sleep in a cell will teach you a lesson.”
Mustached man backed away from his friend, putting his hands up. “We don’t want any trouble. We are just passing through,” he said, calmly, looking at his friend.
“Yes, we don’t mean any harm. I wasn’t aware of the law,” the other man said, grasping on John’s hands for balance.
John let go of his collar, letting the man stand. They both looked small to John, as he stood before them, towering over them. “Well, just so we can get this misunderstanding understood, let’s take a trip to the hotel.”
John motioned to the doorway, to which the man he had just held up replied “I don’t know…”
John tipped his hat. “Or you can come with me to the sheriff’s office.”
Mustached man looked terrified. “No, we’ll take you to the hotel.”
As the men scurried out of the room, John nodded in Earl’s direction, while the rest of the patrons went back to their business as if this was a regular occurrence. All John concentrated on was wondering how Misty could get involved with such an affair.
Chapter 7
Misty stared at her reflection for the tenth time. She had braided her hair loosely and pinched her cheeks to add some color. She didn’t have any makeup to wear, so she couldn’t only rely on her present look. Smiling at her reflection only made her feel worse. She felt like a fraud. Nerves were rattling her body, making her shake and shiver. She was terrified.
She had only been with a man once before, but it was so long ago. It was when she was foolish and thought she was in love. When she was a naïve girl, she always attributed the act to doing with someone that you loved. It was something that she would be doing with her husband, when the time came. Even before her mother tainted the act, she still felt that she would be different. She would only love one man and that man would be with her forever.
And now, years later, she was almost staring at her mother’s reflection. Her mother had told her long ago no one would love her and that her destiny was going to be just like hers. How foolish she had been to think she could run from her destiny; it was going to catch up with her eventually.
There was a knock on the door, which surprised Misty. She slowly walked to the door, opening it with caution. She had
expected it might be Samantha, as she had been prone to late night visits since the baby was always kicking at night. Instead of Samantha, though, Mary was standing before the doorway. Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying for hours, and her hands were clutching the middle of her skirt.
“May I come in?” she asked, through sniffles.
Misty opened the door wider to allow her sister to come in. Misty felt a simmer of anger creep up at the sight of the girl; she wouldn’t be in the predicament if her sister would have just accepted her help early on. But she batted it away; ultimately, it was Misty’s fault that her sister had felt so wronged that she would seek out the interest of someone as unbecoming as Clover Kelly.
Mary sat on the narrow bed as Misty went back to the seat before her mirror, fidgeting again with her hair. “I’m so sorry, Misty. I didn’t know…” Mary started to say.
“No, you didn’t. If you would have listened to me,” Misty said, cutting her off. She could feel her voice rising with hostile emotion, so she calmly took a deep breath and continued. “No matter, what’s done is done.”
“But you shouldn’t have to do this! I don’t want you to do this.”
Misty turned to her sister abruptly. “And would you rather be doing it?” When her sister sat in silence, she continued, “I will do this for you, but I hope you will make better decisions in the future.” She turned back around and fiddled more with her hair.
“Why are you doing this for me?” Misty quietly asked. “Why do you care? You left us.”
Misty sighed, frustrated at her sister. “I did what I had to do to protect you and Mama. If I had a choice, I would have never left you so suddenly.” It was a truth and a lie all wrapped up in a pretty bow.
When she turned her head, looking in Mary’s direction, she saw the girl with her head in her hands. She felt a wave of sympathy. Settling next to her sister, she patted her on the back, pulling her close into a hug. “Let me help you. Let me make up for all those years I wasn’t there to protect you. Let me do this one thing for you.” When she felt Mary shake her head into her chest, she finally felt brave. She could do this. She could do this for her sister.
Her Secret Shame (Black Hills Brides Book 3) Page 5
