Sins of Summer

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Howdy, James.” McHenry had come up beside him.

  “What’s this?” James held out the small pillow.

  “’Tis called a sachet. Womenfolk tuck them in their… uh… bosoms so they be smellin’ sweet. Ye wantin’ to buy it?”

  “Yes,” James growled, red faced. “And don’t say a damn word. Hear?”

  McHenry held his hands up. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ bout it atall. But ye better set it down ’cause here comes Watt Bell an’ he’d have aplenty to say. I be goin’ ta see Mag fer a minute. Be right back and wrap it… fancy-like.”

  McHenry had seen James at the church and had been sure he would be in town before he headed back home. As soon as he got back to the store, he had gone in to speak to Steven. The man had been sleeping and Mag had refused to allow McHenry to awaken him. The burden of caring for Steven without anyone’s knowing he was here lay heavy on McHenry. What would he do and how could he explain to the marshal if the man died?

  Iris, McHenry’s daughter, sat by the bedside. He had insisted on naming his daughters after flowers because, he said, they were the flowers of his heart. Iris looked up when her father entered.

  “Is he still sleepin’?” he whispered.

  “I’m not asleep,” the weak voice answered from the bed.

  “How be ye, mon?”

  “As well as can be expected, I guess.” Steven’s eyes were feverish and his cheeks were sunken.

  “James is in the store. Let me be bringin’ him in.”

  Steven’s eyes went to the girl, who had moved away from the bed, then back to McHenry.

  McHenry nodded in answer to the silent question. “On the way. Early this mornin’.”

  Steven sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

  “Let James come in, but say nothing.”

  “Ya got my word, mon.”

  “I appreciate what you’re doing. It might cause you a heap of trouble if I died on you. We’d better tell James.”

  “My Mag be as good at doctorin’ as any I be seein’. She says ye got a chance. Ye hold on and stay awake. I be fetchin’ James.”

  McHenry stood outside the door and allowed his shoulders to slump with relief. It was a burden he and his family were carrying, but one that he had taken on willingly. Steven Marz was a good man. He had helped McHenry straighten out his books more than once and would never take a penny for his trouble.

  “McHenry, I need a word with you in private.” James was leaning against the table that held the heavy duck britches when McHenry came into the story.

  “What be on ye’er mind?”

  “I’d like to hire Howie to take a letter to Coeur d’Alene.”

  “’Tisn’t possible, mon. Howie left this mornin’ to take my list a needs ta be filled afore the freight wagons be headin this way.”

  James chewed the inside of his cheek for a second. “Well, that’s that.”

  “It’s sorry I be, James. Howie left at daylight wantin’ ta be in town afore nightfall.”

  “It’s all right, McHenry. It’s nothing that can’t wait until I can make the trip myself.”

  “Now ’tis my turn ta talk ta ye, but let me see if me girls is takin’ care of me trade.”

  James waited impatiently. He wanted to get down to the saloon and have a beer. If word of what had happened to Dory and the fight at the mill had gotten out, he would be sure to hear about it at the saloon. And he was anxious to be heading home to the golden-haired girl who now consumed his thoughts.

  McHenry came back with a small wrapped package and handed it to James.

  “How much?” James tucked the package inside his shirt.

  “Five cents ta ye.”

  “How much to anyone else?”

  “Three cents,” McHenry said and grinned.

  “Fine way to treat your friends,” James grumbled and slapped the coin in his outstretched hand.

  McHenry looked to see if anyone was watching them, then motioned James to the farthest corner of the store.

  “Steven rode in last night. He be in bad shape. All shot up he is.”

  Stunned by the news, James took a second or two to absorb it.

  “Godamighty! Who did it?”

  “He wouldn’t be knowin’. Was ambushed on the trail down by the river.”

  “Might be he was mistaken for someone else.”

  “Three shots hit. That be no mistake.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “One bullet into his arm, one his leg. My Mag dug the other outta his back. She thinks he’ll be makin’ it if fever don’t take him.”

  “Where is he?”

  “In the room yonder. My lassie be sittin’ with him. There be more I need ta tell ye. Steve don’t be wantin’ anybody knowin’ he’s here. He fears the one who did it will come ta finish what he started and do harm ta the family while he’s about it.”

  “The marshal you sent for is here. He should be told.”

  “No, laddie. Steve wants no marshal ta be knowin’. Made me swear, he did.”

  “Why, for God’s sake?”

  “I wouldn’t be knowin’ that. I respect the mon’s wish. Nobody but my family be knowin’ he’s here.”

  “It’s strange. Why was he coming to town? This is the busy time at the mill.”

  “Ye’ll have ta be askin’ him that.”

  With McHenry leading the way, they walked down a short passageway that divided the store from the family quarters. He opened a door and beckoned to his daughter to come out before James went in.

  This didn’t seem quite real to James. He had known Steven for most of his life but had not realized how small the man was. His slight body made only a small hump beneath the patchwork quilt that covered him. The whiskers on his cheeks were speckled with gray, and James realized the man was old enough to be his father. He eased himself down in the chair where Iris had been sitting.

  “Steven?” He waited until the man opened his eyes. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “James.” Steven lifted a hand from the bed and let it fall back. His eyes were bright, but clear. “Hell of a note, isn’t it?”

  ’Do you have any idea who did this?”

  “I can only guess. Someone who thought I was going to inquire about dividing the property.”

  “That would have to be Milo or Louis. It’s hard to believe they’d go that far.”

  “Greed causes men to do many things.”

  “Louis lives and breathes for the company, but I never figured him for a back-shooter. Milo, on the other hand, is crazy as a loon at times. I know Dory believes he killed Mick, but there’s no proof.”

  “After Waller got through with Milo, he wasn’t in very good shape. Course, he’s got his bully-boys who would do anything he asked them to do for a dollar.”

  “It looks like Mag did a good job doctoring you. Hell, I’m sorry about this. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes. Keep quiet about it for a while. Whoever shot me probably thinks I crawled off into the bushes and died. My horse spooked and took off. I don’t know how I managed to stay in the saddle. I vaguely remember passing a raft on the river and hearing a shout. It’s probably what kept the gunman from running me down and finishing the job.”

  “I’ll say nothing if that’s what you want. But don’t you think the marshal should know about it?”

  “Especially not him!”

  During his waking moments Steven had thought of the marshal and the wanted posters he would be carrying. The dread of going to prison was worse than the death he was facing.

  “Can you give me a reason why the marshal shouldn’t be told? It’s his job to know these things.”

  “Not now. Someday. I’m not wanted for murder or anything like that, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m not thinking that at all. If you don’t want him told, it’s good enough for me. Christamighty. I hate going back home and leaving you here. But the way things are, I can’t leave Dory to face Milo and Loui
s alone. Louis will be fit to be tied when he can’t find you. He depends on you to keep things on an even keel at the mill.”

  “I’ve done all I can do—all George asked me to do.” Steven closed his eyes wearily.

  “Steven?” James said anxiously.

  Steven opened his eyes. “I’m not ready to kick the bucket yet, James.” There was a little humor in his eyes.

  “I hope not.” Relief was evident in James’s voice. “Hell, I remember when you came to the homestead. Pa thought you were the smartest man he’d ever known.”

  “Smart doesn’t always cut the mustard. It takes luck too. I’m lucky enough to have such good friends as you and the McHenrys.” His voice sounded weary and James could see that he could scarcely keep his eyes open.

  “I’m going now, but I’ll be back soon.”

  When Steven didn’t answer, James knew he was asleep and went quietly from the room. As he passed through the store, he spoke for a moment with McHenry, telling him that he would be back in a day or two.

  There were only a few wagons and buggies left on the street when he reached it. He stood in front of the store for a moment before walking down the boardwalk toward the saloon. Had Louis’s greed and desire to best Malone pushed him beyond reason, or had Milo’s crazy mind invented a plan to get rid of Steven? James doubted the ambusher was Louis. Louis knew how valuable Steven was to the Callahan Lumber Company.

  To James, coming in out of the bright sunshine, the Idaho Palace was quiet and cool and dim. He stood inside the doorway and allowed his eyes to scan the room. A group of card players occupied one table, two men drank beer at another. At the end of the bar, a man with a large star on his chest stood talking to the bartender. Tipping his hat to the back of his head, James went to the bar.

  “Howdy, James.” Mel drew a mug of beer from the keg and placed it on the bar. “Come in for the buryin’?”

  “Yeah. Figured the Callahans ought to be represented.”

  “Biggest buryin’ since I been here.”

  “Everyone liked Mrs. Malone.”

  “Have ya met the marshal?”

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “Marshal, this here’s James Callahan, the best all-round lumberjack in these parts.”

  The marshal was large in the shoulders and chest, but short in the legs. When he moved down the bar, he had to tilt his head to look at James.

  “Kraus,” the marshal said, and held out his hand. After shaking hands with James, he moved back a few steps and leaned an elbow on the bar.

  James acknowledged the introduction with a handshake and a nod and picked up his beer.

  “I stopped in at your place the other day. Your sister served me a good meal.”

  “Dory’s a fine cook.”

  “Went up to the mill. Talked to a man named Tinker about the man Waller killed.”

  “From what I hear, he had it comin’.”

  “Wanted to talk to the other witness, but he wasn’t there. Do you know where I can find him?”

  “Who’er you talking about?”

  “Steven Marz, the man who keeps the books at the mill.”

  “Steve gets tired of the racket at the mill and goes off for a day or two. He never stays away long. Is there any doubt that Waller was justified in shooting Hanes?”

  “No. But for the report, I should have statements from two witnesses.”

  “Well, stick around a while and Steven will show up.”

  “I intend to.”

  James set his empty mug on the bar. “Got to be goin’ Nice meetin’ you, marshal. See you later, Mel.”

  James didn’t breathe deeply until he was out of town and on his way home. He felt a restless stirring and knew that something unpleasant was about to happen. He was uneasy about the marshal. He sensed the man was here for a reason more important to him than catching the man responsible for the murders.

  CHAPTER

  * 23 *

  There was much to mark this morning as different from other mornings. It was light, but the sun was not yet up when Ben came into the kitchen with an armload of stove wood.

  “James is on his way?”

  “He wanted to get an early start.” Dory looked at Ben, reveling in the wondrous new feeling of belonging to him and knowing that he was hers.

  Ben dropped the wood in the wood box, came to her and put his arm around her.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  “Much better. And you?” Dory felt light-headed and foolish and happy.

  “I’m fine. Let me see your face.” His eyes were warm and shining and looked long and deliberately at her bruised face. “The swelling is almost gone.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips and then another that lingered. His sparkling eyes teased her. “That was worth waiting for.”

  “You’re in fine fettle this morning,” she said in a breathless whisper.

  “I slept like a log last night. It’s a good thing James was sleeping in here. I’d not have heard an army storming the house.”

  “It was all that exercise you got up at the mill.”

  “That wasn’t it and you know it.” Amused smile lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, and the creases deepened on each side of his mouth. “When I left you last night, I felt like I could lick my weight in wildcats if you were there waiting for me.”

  She looked into his silver-gray eyes and bracketed his cheeks with her palms.

  “I love you. I’ll always be waiting for you. There’s no problem we can’t work out if we’re together.”

  “Dory, Dory, why didn’t I come here sooner?”

  “When are you going to tell Odette?”

  “Now. We’ll tell her together. How about James?”

  “He knows that something wonderful has happened to me. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.”

  When they told Odette, she was delighted. She hugged Ben, then Dory. Jeanmarie, her nightdress dragging the floor, came in rubbing sleep from her eyes. Odette scooped her up in her arms and danced around the room.

  “Will Baby be my sister?”

  “Your stepsister.” Dory spoke slowly. When Odette beetled her brows, a sign that she didn’t understand, Dory wrote it on the tablet.

  “I don’t like step. Sister!”

  Ben and Dory laughed. She reached for his hand. It was a natural, unconscious gesture—and it felt so wonderful to be free to touch him. Although she hadn’t tried to explain their new situation to Jeanmarie, the child seemed to know. She went from Odette’s arms to Ben’s and wound her small arms around his neck.

  “Odette’s papa. Jeanmarie’s papa.”

  An emotion flooded Ben’s heart like none he had felt before. He hugged the child tightly to him and kissed her soft cheek. His eyes met Dory’s, and he silently vowed that he would love and protect them for as long as he lived. Love. He was looking into Dory’s green glistening eyes when the word popped into his mind. He loved her! He loved them! Love was a new word for him. But, by God, he loved her!

  Ben wanted to set the child down, go to Dory and tell her, but the little arms were wound tightly around his neck. As if knowing he wanted her close, Dory moved over beside him. He put his arm around her and pulled her tightly to him. Over her head he spoke silently to Odette, who watched with large questioning eyes. Come here, sweetheart.

  With his arms around the two women and the child, Ben felt as if he had the entire universe in his arms. Right here was everything he had ever hoped to have. This woman would be the hub around which his life would revolve. He lowered his face into her short tight curls, breathed deeply the clean, sweet smell, and promised to do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy. He wanted her never to regret her decision to give herself to him.

  Finally Odette moved away and Jeanmarie wiggled to be let down. Ben held Dory to him for a little longer, reluctant to lose the joy of holding her.

  Odette dressed Jeanmarie while Dory cooked breakfast. Her hand shook as she poured water into the cornmea
l. She couldn’t prevent her eyes from seeking Ben. When she caught him watching her with tender amusement, he smiled. The thrill of that smile reached all the way to her toes, and her heart leaped with joy.

  It was the same throughout the morning as they went about the chores of everyday living. Ben filled the wood box and chopped a supply of kindling. He set the iron wash pot up in the yard, filled it with water and built a fire under it. Dory gathered the clothes to be washed while Odette churned and amused Jeanmarie.

  When Ben was near Dory, their eyes caught and clung as if they shared a glorious secret. It seemed to her that nothing could happen to dampen her spirits. But something did.

  Louis arrived at mid-morning. Dory was at the washtubs on the porch. She saw him the instant he came out of the woods and toward the house. Odette, in the yard poking at the clothes in the boiling water with a long stick, was unaware of him until he rode past her on a sweaty horse. Her frightened eyes searched for her father. With relief she saw him come out of the barn and toward the house.

  Dismounting and leaving his horse loose to wander to the watering trough, Louis came to the porch. He had an ugly scowl on his face.

  “Where in the goddamn hell is that damn James?” he demanded. “Is he here?”

  “Hello, Louis. Nice morning.” Dory continued to rub the neck of Wiley’s shirt against the scrub board.

  “Goddammit! I asked you a question. I want an answer. Where’s James?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “He ain’t at the camp. Ain’t been there fer a couple a days.”

  “He isn’t here,” Dory said calmly.

  “Damn you! You know where he’s at. He don’t take a piss without tellin’ you. He left them men on their own ta get them logs to the river an’ most of ’em don’t know shit ’bout that engine.”

  “You’ll have to discuss that with James.” Dory twisted the water out of the shirt and dropped it in the rinse water.

  “Is that goddamn Waller still here? Or did you take in that dummy of his?”

  “What I do in my own house is my business.”