by Ivanna Roze
The man-Devil came up behind her after a moment and drew her in close, and she cried into his chest. There was a safety there that she couldn't begin to express. As if he had known her for all this time, and she supposed that in a way he had. She was her mother's daughter in many ways that she couldn't have known without spending the past days with her mother, sleeping in the room across the hall.
They guided her back inside, after a suitable amount of time. She let them walk her, she didn't want to think right now. Didn't want to feel anything at all, really. She just wanted it to go away. She knew, somehow, that it would be easy not to feel. As if the capacity was right within her grasp and all she had to do was reach out and take it.
The Devil guided her into her bed and pulled the blankets up over her hips, leaving her sat up propped against some pillows.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"I'll be right down the hall, if you need me." The Devil stood to leave.
"Wait. Before you go." He stopped and turned, as accommodating as he had ever been. "I don't know what to call you."
He smiled a broad smile at her. "Is that all? You haven't known my name all this time?"
Cora blushed. "No, I haven't."
"Enoch. Enoch Willis, at your service."
"Thank you." She smiled at him until he left, and then she smiled for herself.
The name fit him well. Old-fashioned and polite. He knew how to treat a woman. Nothing like Ashton. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. It was that simple. At least he was honest about who he was. Why couldn't Ashton see that? The man just wanted to be left alone. He didn't cause any trouble for the folks in town, and he only wanted to spend time with the wives he had left.
Cora let herself drift off to an uneasy sleep. The dreams that took her brought a blush to her sleeping face. She didn't want to admit how much she liked the idea of her body twisted up with Enoch's.
She jerked awake suddenly, her underclothes sticking to her body with sweat. The thought had never occurred to her before, that she could stay here. But if this was what it was always like—quiet, close, and respectful, then what would be wrong with it?
She didn't have to go back to Arthur. She could have died on the frontier just as easily as anything. Then she wouldn't have even met Ashton. That Devil, the first night, would have taken her along with Martin Littlefeather, and then there would have been none of the things that came afterward.
In a certain way, that Devil letting her live was the reason that she was here at all. Sure, it had killed Martin. And Martin was a good man, as far as she could tell. There was a noise outside.
"Who's there?"
Enoch's voice was soft in the hall, but he answered her. "I was just checking on all you ladies. I'm sorry I woke you."
"You didn't wake me."
He opened the door a little way. "Is something wrong?"
"No," she lied.
"You can't lie to me, Cora Marie Little. I always know. If you want to talk about it, maybe I can help."
Cora thought for a minute. "When I was in Salt Lake City, I was looking for Momma's old cabin."
"The one in the mountains, right?"
"You know about it?"
"It's where we met the first time. I was out with Harriett. She wanted to see the city again, and… I confess a fondness for mountains."
"So you went climbing, and found my mother's cabin?"
"It was very cold, that winter, and I found myself trapped, and she let me stay for a couple of days. Things… progressed from there."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry for getting you distracted. You were telling me about something that happened."
"I was going up the mountain, and—I'm from Detroit, you see. I've never been this far out West before. The furthest I've gone is Chicago, other than the past month."
"So you hired someone to take you up the mountain. Is that the man who came here to see you?" He must have seen the look of confusion on Cora's face, because Enoch laughed and answered her confusion. "My wives don't keep secrets from me, Cora. They saw him, of course, and they told me. They say he's a handsome man, one who looks very capable."
Cora found herself telling him the truth, even though she didn't really have to. She could have ignored the question, and something told her that she wouldn't have been pressed on it. Perhaps that was why it was easy to tell him all of this.
"No, not him. He came later. My brother, Arthur, worried about me coming out West alone, so he sent someone after to make sure I was alright."
"Did he?"
"What?"
"Did he keep you safe?"
Cora blushed. "Yes."
"So you were saying, you hired someone to take you up the mountain."
"He died. That first night, he was killed by something. It was—I can't lie, it was the scariest thing I've ever seen. Something, a monster made out of dust and wind killed him without touching him. Without even reaching for him."
Enoch nodded. "That sounds very scary. It's a good thing that you weren't hurt. I know that Carolyn would have been… hurt. If you came to any harm."
"But I didn't."
"When is your friend coming back?"
Cora frowned. "I don't know. But I should go back to Detroit, shouldn't I? I came out to find my mother, and now I've done that. Then I stayed to make sure that she saw a proper burial, and I've done that, too."
"You're welcome to stay as long as you have to."
"Thank you." Cora could feel tiredness starting to overtake her again.
"I mean it, Cora. As long as you need. There will always be a bed for you here."
"Thank you, Enoch."
Her eyelids were heavy, now. She couldn't keep them open much longer, until finally, she fell asleep completely.
Twenty-Seven
Ash pressed his hat further down onto his head. There was nothing to be done now but go inside, but somehow he was taking his time about it. Up to now it had been constant reminders to slow down, relax, and keep his wits about him. Now that he could finally move forward, though, something was stopping him.
He took a deep breath and gathered up his courage just in time to hear a window open up on the second floor. A man spoke inside, loud enough that Ashton knew he was supposed to hear. "Excuse me, sir?"
He stepped away far enough to see the man who was speaking. Ash didn't recognize him, but he wasn't over-surprised.
"Yes?"
"Mr.'s Burke and Griffin told me to ask if you had any intention of coming inside any time soon, or if they should come and get you."
Ash scowled. "They'll already know my response."
"They said as much, sir." He started to shut the window, and then thought better of it. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir."
Ashton adjusted his hat again and took a breath. No more doubting, then. They already knew he was there, anyways. They already more than likely knew why. He had messed up, and now he needed their help. Well, that was the truth, so he might as well own up to it.
He pulled the door open, only to find the two men he was looking for standing at the top of the steps.
"Ash Lowe, I swear. How long has it been, baby brother?"
He was only a year younger than Samson, but he'd been the last to arrive, and that meant that he was the baby of the group, a name he'd never managed to live down.
"A while."
"I seem to recall, ten years, almost."
"About, he growled."
"Come on up. We've got to discuss this problem of yours before we set off."
"A'ight."
Ashton forced himself to straighten his back and straighten his hat, and then climbed up to the second-floor office and followed them in. The man who had called out to him was sitting behind a desk, and then turned back to Hewitt and Samson.
"You want me to go get a coffee or something?"
"That would be great, Tom."
"Will do. I'll be right downstairs."
; "We'll be done here in a little while. You can go out to lunch, and then when you're done, lock up and you've got the day to yourself."
"Thank you, sir."
The man left quietly.
"Don't think too badly of him, Ash. Samson put him up to it."
"I know," Ashton said, unable to get the surly tone out of his voice.
"Take a seat, let's talk shop."
Ashton pulled up a chair. "Where do you want me to start?"
"At the beginning. We'll ask questions when we need something clarified."
"Alright, well. I got a message, a little over a week ago, saying to come down to a restaurant to meet a man about a job."
"Wait—one thing. What happened to all your fancy suits?"
Ashton rolled his eyes and continued with the story. He left out the parts where he'd gotten closer to Cora than he should have. If he let that part out, then they'd have never let him live it down. The youngest, the least trained, and now the one who hadn't been able to keep his hands off a client.
"So next question. What are we dealing with here, exactly?"
"I don't rightly know," Ashton said softly. "At least a half-mile radius, but I think it's wider. I think it's a hell of a lot wider, since I was looking for him and I sure couldn't see him, not even when the train went down. There was the valley, sure, but the rest was pretty flat."
"So he's better at hiding than you think."
"I saw him, though. I saw him when he took Cora."
"Maybe he's able to choose when he wants to be seen. Maybe it had something to do with taking her."
"Might be, but then why ride the dust? And what could stop a bullet putting him down?"
Hewitt had taken his jacket back off after a while, hung over the back of his chair. Ashton could tell right away that it wasn't an incredibly nice one, but in a pinch it probably did well enough. He pulled a comb out of his pocket to push his hair back again, where it had fallen forward a little ways.
"Has it occurred to you?"
"I don't know. I don't want to claim it's the one we're lookin' for if I can't be sure."
"That's good. But you don't think you can take it by yourself?"
"I don't know it to a certainty, but the old man didn't say anything about Devils like this'n."
"No, I suppose he didn't," Hewitt agreed.
Samson let a loud breath out of his nose. "So what's the plan, then?"
"The plan, as far as I know it, was that we go back to Utah and the three of us end it."
"The three of us, specifically? Oh, Ashton. You do care."
Ash shot him a look intended to wound, and Samson gave an exaggerated apologetic look in return. Ash made another mental note to ignore his shenanigans. He was getting too old to be acting like a child, but being around Samson had always done this to him.
"Are you going to help me or not? Because I'm going back, either way."
"Oh, we're coming," Hewitt confirmed. "None of Peters's boys would leave you out to dry. You're our baby brother, after all."
Ash wanted to retort, but he swallowed it when he saw that for Hewitt Burke, it was supposed to be a compliment.
"Yeah, man. Just trying to decide whether or not to bring out the big guns."
"Assume yes, and then if we don't need 'em, we won't use 'em. But we're burning daylight, and the next stage back to Chicago leaves in forty minutes."
Samson pushed himself up from the desk. "Then why didn't you say so? Come on, let's get going."
He took his coat off the rack. He didn't wear a jacket like Hewitt, and certainly not like Ash. But somehow the coat he did wear, heavy with a thick woolen collar, fit the image Ash had always had of Samson over the years.
He waited a moment for the two to pack a bag, but only a few short moments. Ashton was the first out the door, passing by Tom on the way down the steps. "I think you're going to have a few days off. Bosses are going out of town."
"Oh, I know how it is," the man said. "You keep them safe, you hear? We need men like those two."
The comment hit Ashton harder than it should have. "I know."
Tom gave him a tired smile. "They'll make it hard on you."
"I'll make it hard on them, too."
"That's how it's always been. Good luck with whatever's going on."
"Thanks."
Then Ashton kept walking until he was outside the door. Hewitt and Samson came out together and Ash kicked himself off the wall.
"This way."
He started off, tracing the route he'd followed to get here.
"Ashton, slow down. We know the way to the train station."
Ash frowned. He supposed they would. He hadn't really thought about it. He didn't slow down, though. Things were finally moving again, and he had to get back to Cora before something bad happened. Something he couldn't undo.
Twenty-Eight
Cora woke up to the smell of food cooking on the stove. She pushed herself up from the bed and took her time getting dressed. The place was absolutely heavenly in every way, she thought, so she might as well take her time with getting up if she could afford it. And somehow, she knew, Enoch wouldn't put her into a rush.
Not so soon after.
She had a few days to recover from the funeral, but it seemed as if it was never quite enough. She still felt the pain every damn day, the questions still burned.
Somehow Cora had hoped that burying her mother, giving her a proper, Christian burial would help. Like it would make her hurt go away, or something. But it didn't, and she knew that she shouldn't have expected it.
She should have expected it to hurt like it was hurting. But somehow that hadn't been how she had thought at the time. Like maybe this was going to be the time that she was able to dodge the pain that she knew was going to come.
She sucked in a breath and forced herself not to think about it. She wasn't going to gain anything by being morose; all she'd do was get herself upset. The other wives, they'd all been putting on a strong face for her. She knew they hurt, she could see it when she looked deep in their eyes.
But they were all smiles when the time came, and she appreciated it but it was strange and a little uncomfortable admitting that she wasn't sure how to respond to it.
Maybe in time, she would understand, but right now it was too much. So she would let herself feel whatever she was feeling. Ashton would be back in a few days, and then she could go. It was too dangerous out there to go by herself, but he was taking his sweet time in getting back to her.
Enoch backed through the door with a tray full of food, set it on her bedside table.
"We were worried about you. If you want to eat in your room…"
"No, I'll come out and join you. I just needed a minute."
"Well, the coffee's hot, and you can take as long as you need."
"I'll only be a moment."
She looked in the mirror over the armoire a second. Her hair was smooth, it had a good shine to it. She looked good, nothing out of place. Whatever happened, she was ready.
She followed Enoch out as he carried her food back to the kitchen. A long table took up one side of the massive room, seating for twenty or more, and almost half of the table was full, everyone crowded around one side to be closer to Enoch. He had a space open, though, right by his left side.
That had been her mother's seat, and once her mother couldn't get out of bed, they had left it open. Now that Cora was there, nobody was going to argue about her taking Carolyn's seat. Not so soon after what had happened.
They ate in a comfortable silence. Nobody spoke at the meals, at least once food was on the table. But Cora didn't mind that. It seemed appropriate, somehow, with how old-fashioned Enoch was, that they should eat in solemn contemplation.
He had the most to eat of all of them, but he was only done a moment later than Cora. He stood as he finished, and Cora noticed that the other women were all finished, as well. He gathered up the plates and took hers last of all.
Harriett, the eldest of th
e wives, took over scrubbing them clean. Enoch smiled at everyone, Cora last of all. "Cora, do you mind if we talk for a moment?"
One of the girls spoke softly. "Does that mean it's time—"
Enoch gave her a look that silenced her immediately.
"Sorry."
He smiled at her. "It's okay. She's not ready, yet. Be patient."
Cora followed him out of the kitchen, into the sitting room. She noticed that, as far as she could tell, none of the wives followed. They respected his privacy, and they respected hers, as well. Very respectful, she thought.
That was how Cora had always imagined a husband and wife should be. If they were going to be together then they should trust each other.
"Cora, I didn't want to offend you by bringing this up sooner."
She raised her eyebrow. "I don't know what you mean. Offend me?"
"You know that I'm not…"
"Not human?"
He gave her a sad smile. "Exactly right."
"I knew."
"Well…" he took a breath, like he was trying to get the gumption up to say something that was hard to approach. "There are things I can do."
"Like jumping ten miles to your house?"
He smiled. "That was only a little jump, nothing too much. I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was showing off."
She breathed out a soft laugh.
"Well, what if I told you that your mother didn't have to—to be…"
"You can bring people back to life?"
"I can," he confirmed. "I know it might seem… improper. And I will respect your wishes if you don't want me to."
"She'll be alright again?"
"As healthy as she's ever been. Healthier, even."
A little doubt lingered in the back of Cora's mind. A niggling question she decided to ask. "Why didn't you save her, then?"
He took a moment to respond, unable to hide the sadness on his face.
"Was that—should I not have asked that?"
"No," Enoch answered, trying to draw himself back up into a composed attitude but not quite succeeding. "It was a fair question. I would have, if I could. I tried. The Lord has given me the power of a great many miracles, Cora, and I tried working all of them."
