She glanced around as the room fell eerily silent. It was full of nothing but men—men smoking, men drinking, even men with girls sitting on their laps.
She stifled the noise that threatened to escape from her lips. These weren’t just any girls. They were like the ones that came to Dr. Randolph’s free clinic, which he operated on the weekends. She remembered the hardened, painted faces of some of the women that came to him for help. Her heart went out to them. To find it necessary to lower oneself to such a task was beyond her comprehension.
The hush continued. Those present began to shift uncomfortably. Jenny walked toward the startled piano player. His hands hovered above the keyboard.
“You may continue to play, sir. I’m sorry to have interrupted you. I won’t be but a minute.”
He flashed a toothy grin at her. “Then I won’t be playing for the next minute, ma’am. If I start banging away on the ivories and these boys miss why you’ve come in, I might as well go and beat myself black and blue.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. I see. Well, then, thank you.” She made her way to the bar where a beefy man in a stained apron leaned an elbow on the counter.
“What’ll it be, ma’am?”
She realized he thought she wanted to purchase a drink. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, sir. I don’t wish to partake of any alcohol. I simply have need of some information. I’m told a barkeep is the best informed man in town.”
The bartender sized her up. “Who told you that?”
Her face flamed. “You see, well . . .” She paused and then blurted out, “I read it in my dime novels.”
Hearty laughter erupted throughout the room. She wished she could sink into the floor. Instead, she lifted her head and put on her best schoolmistress face as she gazed at the bar’s patrons. The laughter subsided immediately.
“Now as to why I’m here, sir, I am in need of a guide.” She looked across the room. “Does anyone here have experience in acting as a trail guide? I need to reach Nevada as quickly as possible.”
No one dared laugh again, although she saw many of the men wanted to do so. Slowly, the majority turned back to their drinks, their cards, and their cigars. Jenny had no takers.
Except one.
A scrawny man in bad need of a haircut approached her. He smelled awful. She supposed by his gait that he was semi-inebriated.
“Snake Burton. At your service, ma’am.” He doffed a worn-out hat to her.
She took in his pitiful appearance. She wasn’t sure if he could make it back across the room to his seat, much less escort her clear to Nevada.
“I know I look poorly, but I’ve jes’ fallen on some hard times is all. This little trip could hep me get back on my feet.” He looked at her pleadingly. “I’d work real cheap.”
She’d always had a soft heart. Her first, poor impression of Mr. Burton melted away. No one else offered her any assistance. If she were to reach Prairie Dell before the twentieth century began, it looked as if she’d have to take her chances with Snake Burton.
“Very well, Mr. Burton. You’re hired.” She tried to quell her doubts as to his suitability for their venture, but since no one present had stepped up to accommodate her, she would make the best of the situation. “I would like to leave early tomorrow unless you have any previous commitments.”
Snake shook his head. “I’m looser ‘n a goose, ma’am. We can leave tomorry . . . ‘bout nine o’clock.”
“Then it’s settled. I will go to the general store and see about supplies for our foray, sir. Do you have a horse?”
He looked appalled that she would even ask such a question. “‘Course I do. It’s Texas, ain’t it?” He narrowed his eyes and studied her a moment.
“What I could use is a little stake afore we set out.”
She understood at once. Mr. Burton possibly had a few financial matters to settle before undertaking such a long trip. She mentioned a figure to him for acting as her guide. His face lit up with pleasure. She then reached into her reticule and handed him five dollars in advance. She hoped he might consider a haircut and bath before they began their journey.
“Then we are to meet tomorrow morning at nine in front of the hotel, sir?”
Snake nodded. “We’ll get to Nevada come hell or high water. Begin’ your pardon, ma’am.”
She held out her gloved hand to Snake Burton. As he shook it, Jenny noticed the tall cowboy who’d helped her with her luggage earlier. Had he followed her from the hotel?
Jenny McShanahan fascinated Noah. His first impression of her had been false. She wasn’t an empty-headed woman who traipsed off without her valise in a strange town. She was simply bats in the belfry crazy. Nothing else could account for her behavior during the last ten minutes. What decent woman entered a saloon, much less tried to employ a guide from its rough crew of customers? If even one man in the bar thought she was actually serious about him taking her to Nevada, she would have had a line out the door clear to the next county.
As it was, old Snake Burton had already rooked her out of good money, five dollars from the looks of it. That was hard cash that Miss McShanahan would never see again. Probably Snake wouldn’t, either. He’d have it spent in a New York minute, and Noah suspected exactly where it would wind up.
She left the saloon. He noticed every man’s eye in the place followed her. His included. She had a certain sway in her walk that was mighty appealing. Too bad she was a good girl. He would have liked to get to know her better, but he was never going to get married. That’s what all the nice ladies wanted—a ring on their finger—and he wasn’t about to place one there. Not on Jenny McShanahan’s hand or any other woman’s.
He’d watched the sham of his parents’ marriage for too many years. He saw the heartbreak Pete brought into his wife’s life. Sarah Webster had to work harder than she should have, and she’d aged well before her time. She’d fallen in love with a man who was a thief, right there in the lobby of a St. Louis theater, as Pete cased the patrons in attendance and the jewels they wore.
Their whirlwind courtship and elopement, as well as her own daddy’s disowning her, might be the stuff fairy tales were made of, but their love died pretty much before it ever had a chance to grow—all thanks to Pete’s life of crime. Now his mama was a bitter woman. Of course, she’d given Noah all the love in the world and taught him right from wrong. She’d raised him, Mark, and Elizabeth the best she could. Her children gave her a way to make amends for the tragic mistake of marrying Pete Webster.
But she never let any of them forget her opinion of marriage. Knowing how down she was on the institution, he’d sworn to her that he’d never marry. He didn’t want to disappoint a woman like his daddy had his mama. He was always worried that his own bad blood would surface. He refused to make anyone, least of all a wife, miserable. So he’d chosen never to marry. He didn’t feel he was good enough—at least for a nice, decent woman.
Now loving was another matter. He did like his loving, sweet and slow, but it was always with a soiled dove or even a widow woman now and then. And just as his mama taught him, he was impeccably polite—even to a soiled dove. He made sure he pleasured them as much as they did him. Between that and Rangering, his life had been all right. He was proud he’d made a different life than his daddy, one that he could be proud of. A Ranger’s reputation preceded him wherever he went. That meant everything to him.
Yet Rangering was about to be a thing of the past if he didn’t catch up with Miss Jenny McShanahan. He’d been bull-headed and gone out on a limb with the chief commander at HQ, insisting he go after Sam alone. This young woman was his only lead.
Noah slid from his seat and left the bar, determined to bring Sam McShan to justice. It would prove that Pete’s bad blood didn’t taint him. Besides, if he didn’t find Sam, he might as well mail in his resignation. He’d promised to bring
in both Sam and the loot. A Ranger always kept his promise.
He walked along the wide street, the wind kicking swirls of dust around him. He knew she headed over to the general store. Lord, she’d announced everything to anyone listening. Thank goodness no one but him had any notion of following her.
He moseyed into the store and watched from a distance as she did her business, asking this and that about what she’d need out on the trail. She explained her funds were across the street, deposited at the bank, and the store owner was only too willing to accommodate her request for supplies.
For being a tenderfoot, she made some wise selections. She didn’t pinch pennies, but she proved frugal nonetheless. She examined each item carefully before making her decision. Maybe it was those dime novels she claimed to read, but she did seem to know a fair amount about what she was doing.
A shadow crossed on the opposite side of the store. He caught a quick glance of the stranger from the stage. If this fellow didn’t back off soon, he and Noah Daniel Webster would dance in a dark alley real soon.
He turned sideways to let Jenny pass as she left the general store. “Ma’am,” he said and tipped his hat to her. God, he loved those green eyes.
Jenny walked rapidly from the bank, bothered by the fact that the blue-eyed stranger crossed her path yet again. She chose to dismiss him from her mind as she conducted her short business and then made her way to the far end of the street. She needed a horse if she were to reach Prairie Dell, and the bank manager had instructed her to see Whitey.
She recognized him the minute her eyes fell on him. He had the whitest-blond hair of anyone she’d ever seen. He scurried over to her.
“Good day, sir.”
“Good day to you, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
Jenny explained that she’d need a horse for a long journey across the open country.
Whitey frowned at her, his head cocked to one side. “And how much riding experience do you have, if I might be so bold as to ask?”
She hoped her blush wouldn’t give her away. “More than most,” she said succinctly.
Actually, she’d never been on a horse at all, but she’d probably read every book ever written contained in the Boston Public Library. She’d been so eager to learn all she could about the West so she’d be prepared when her father sent for her. She devoured volume after volume on the land, the people, the Indian dangers, the gunfighters, the railroads, and even the horses. She probably knew more about horses than anyone except a horse breeder. Year after year she’d added to her knowledge. By this point, she was a walking encyclopedia of all things familiar in the West.
And more importantly, she had inhaled every word in Milton Mulholland’s Guidebook to the American West. She knew exactly what Mr. Mulholland would recommend in this particular situation.
“I’d like one with a tough mouth and a gentle nature,” she added. “And I’ll need a saddle, as well. Western. Not English.”
Whitey nodded, seemingly satisfied by her confident answers. He took her to his pen and pointed out the attributes of a few likely candidates.
“This one’ll have the stamina for a trip like you’re talking about. Pretty even-tempered. That sorrel over there has a tendency to nip you, but it’s more like love bites, if’n you know what I mean.”
“Hmm,” she said without wanting to commit, having no idea what he meant. Then a lonely horse in the far corner caught her eye. “What about that one?” She pointed to the thin black horse with white socks.
“You mean the black?” Whitey snorted. “You don’t want that one. Comet’s nothing but trouble.”
She looked at the horse again, curiosity burning. “Why do you say that?”
The horse seller shrugged. “He don’t much like people. Was mistreated ‘fore I took him in. Probably shouldn’t have, but I wouldn’t have seen a dime of what Stanton owed me otherwise. He’s also way too skinny. He’d never make a long trip like you’re planning.”
She didn’t care about Whitey’s opinion. This horse had a look in his eye that already won her over. She knew Nevada was a good distance from Texas. She decided she’d only go as far as this horse would take her.
“I’ll take him.”
“But–”
“I said, I’ll take him. How much?”
He named his price, which she thought rather low, but she withdrew the cash from her reticule. “Thank you, sir. I’d like to come get him before nine tomorrow morning, please.”
Whitey looked at her as if she’d been declared legally insane. “You’re welcome to come any time for him, ma’am.”
Jenny called out Comet’s name and was surprised when he trotted over to her. She’d always fostered a love for animals.
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” she whispered to him as she stroked his velvet nose. The horse nickered softly in return.
“I do believe we’ll get along fine, Comet. I’m a fast learner. I’ve always had to be, and you’ll help me along.” She leaned over and kissed him.
She decided she better eat and get in the one last luxury she’d missed ever since she left Boston—a hot, steaming bath. Who knew when the next one might be?
She went back to her lodgings and ate with the hotel owner and his wife. Obviously, not a lot of paying guests came through Apple Blossom, from what they indicated. She expressed her wishes about the bath and after it was ready, she stripped her clothes off for a nice soak. She laid her head back to rest on the edge of the tub and let her thoughts float.
Jenny wondered what this trip to Prairie Dell would bring. She was nervous about going such a long way, especially with a dubious guide, but she knew her father must have very good reasons to ask her to journey to such an out-of-the-way place.
The noise in the total quiet caused her head to pop up. It had been a soft, scraping sound. Her eyes quickly roamed the room, noting the door was locked as before and the window sealed tightly from the cold wind. Then she spotted a single sheet of paper lying near the door. What could it be?
She quickly scrubbed until her body was pink and shining, her long hair hanging wet down her back. She grabbed the toweling and wrapped it around her as she went to pick up the sheet.
Watch the man following you.
The single line leaped at her from the page. A sudden image of the tall stranger with sky blue eyes appeared. So he had been following her.
But why?
She thought of what her father had sent to her in his original letter and hurried to her reticule. She dumped its contents out onto the bed.
It was there. Safe.
She replaced everything in its usual order and calmed her shaking hands. She perched on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath.
Who was the tall, handsome cowboy with the strong build? Better yet, who warned her about him?
CHAPTER 5
Snake Burton wasn’t coming. Jenny sighed again, for the seventh time in twenty minutes. She looked around at the crowd that gathered around her. Or at least what would pass for a crowd in Apple Blossom, Texas.
The day had started beautifully. It was clear, no wind to speak of, and only moderately cold. She’d held such high hopes. Despite the ominous note she’d received the previous evening, she slept soundly and awakened rested, eager to begin the last leg of her journey.
And then Mr. Burton didn’t even bother to show up—drunk or sober.
At least he could have sent her a message. Why would any gentleman let a lady wait at the appointed place, horse and supplies in hand, only to be humiliated in front of most of the population of Apple Blossom?
She knew the answer. Snake Burton was no gentleman.
She looked up and down the street. Again. No Mr. Burton in sight. Well, if he wasn’t coming to see her, she would go to him—if only to tell him what de
plorable manners he had.
“You.” She pointed to a young man barely old enough to shave. She remembered him from the saloon yesterday and had been upset to see one so wet behind the ears in such a disreputable place. In her best schoolmarm voice, she said, “Come here.”
“Me?”
He looked ready to jump out of his skin and leave it behind in one piece. Jenny didn’t dare break eye contact with him. She learned that lesson from teaching after only two days in the classroom. She was surprised it took her that long to figure it out.
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