by Keli Gwyn
But he had apologized. He’d even said he respected her and didn’t want to see her fail. Did he mean that though? Or would he use her setback to his advantage?
If she were to accept the offer to operate out of his shop while the repairs were underway, he’d learn her ways of doing things. Not only that, but she’d have to pay additional rent. With the tremendous sum Mr. Steele charged, she couldn’t afford to line Mr. Rutledge’s pockets as well. She must figure out how to survive until she could open her doors again.
Heavy thudding on the walkway signaled the approach of a large person. An image of the outlaw filled her mind. He was in the area. She knew it. Mr. Rutledge could pooh-pooh her encounter at Deadman Creek all he wanted, but that horse belonged to the menacing man who’d been intent on robbing the coach, and no one could convince her otherwise.
Please. Let him pass by. The footfalls ceased in front of her shop, and the tarpaulins rustled.
Elenora grabbed the skillet, raised it over her shoulder, and waited, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Chapter 11
No, Ellie! Don’t!”
The cry came too late.
She completed her swing and struck something big and black. And soft.
Moisture sprayed her, and she grimaced.
“Mr. Rutledge! Are you all right?” Where had the blow landed, and how badly had she hurt him?
“I’m fine.” He stepped though the tarpaulin and let it go. A gust of wind sent it flapping, flinging water over them both. “What a violent rainstorm, a real duck drencher as Abe would say.”
“I didn’t hit you? I felt blood.”
“You didn’t draw blood, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. What you felt was water.” He pulled off his hat and shook himself, sending a shower of drops splashing at their feet.
“I hit something.”
“You did, but not me. Thankfully you’ve got a light burning in the back, so I saw you and your skillet in shadow. You destroyed my umbrella though.” He held up a mangled mess of black silk serge and bent ribbing. “It’s a good thing I carry a sturdy male model and not one of the lightweight frilly feminine things you sell.”
“You scared me half to death, and now you have the audacity to insult my wares? Have you no consideration?”
“I battled the elements to check on you in the middle of the night, and you took a swing at me. Have you no appreciation?”
She rested the frying pan on the nearest stool and took several calming breaths, giving her time to form a reply, one that didn’t sound snappish. She should be grateful, but he’d given her a terrible fright. “Thank you for coming over, but as you can see, I was fully prepared to protect myself.”
He laughed. “With an iron skillet? Do you really think you’re going to stop an armed man with that?”
“If I hadn’t lit the lamp and you hadn’t seen the blow coming, you wouldn’t be laughing. You’d be nursing a fierce headache.”
“A concussion is more like it. You could have knocked me out cold.”
She smiled. “Perhaps I’d have knocked some sense into you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That it’s about time you realize I’m far more capable than you give me credit for.”
His voice held amusement, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, they were no doubt twinkling. “Oh, you’re capable all right. Capable of driving a man to distraction. Seriously, though. How am I supposed to rest knowing all that’s shielding you and Tildy are some tarpaulins? Anyone could slip inside.”
“Why should that concern you? Didn’t you say I have nothing to fear?”
“I said this is no longer the Wild West, but there are still unsavory characters around.”
She knew that, but it did her good to hear him admit it. “That’s exactly why I’m going to get a gun. I’ll not spend one more night like this.”
“Does that mean you’ll be over to buy one tomorrow?”
“Hah! Buy a gun from you and pay retail? Never. I’ll do my research before I make my purchase…wholesale. Until then I’ll find another solution.”
“Does that mean you’re considering my offer?” How odd. He sounded almost eager.
“What that means is that I’m exploring all my options.” And moving her wares into his shop was most definitely not one of them.
Miles stood in front of Ellie’s shop shortly after nine the next morning, the Scottish carpenter at his side. The rain had eased, but he and MacDougall were buffeted by winds from the west as they sent the heavy black clouds scudding toward the peaks to the east.
“She’s a lucky lass. The stick frame did its job, keeping the brick facade in place.”
“I’m relieved to hear that, since she’s adamant about staying in the building, despite the damage. I thought it looked secure, but I value your opinion.”
“As do I, Mr. MacDougall.”
Miles spun around. Where had Ellie come from? “I didn’t expect to see you up and about already after your vigil.” He’d snatched three hours’ sleep after his, but she must be operating on even less.
“I can’t afford to waste the day dozing. I’ve got work to do.”
Mr. MacDougall tipped his hat. “Good morning, ma’am.” Additional color flooded his ruddy face. “Begging your pardon. I can’t say it’s a good one from where ye stand, although ye were spared worse trouble. As I’ve told Miles, yer place is structurally sound.”
“Do you have an idea how long it will take to get everything fixed?” she asked.
“The repairs themselves will only take a few days, but ye’ll have a wait for supplies. The glass for the door can be had in Placerville, but a sheet that size”—he pointed to where the window had been—“will have to be shipped from San Francisco. Then there’s the lumber. The boards for the awning won’t pose much of a problem since they’re pine, but the fir for the window and doorframes will take longer. They’re cut from clear-grained sapwood free of knots, so it’s a special order.”
“Would you be willing to take the job?”
“I’m the man for the awning, but ye’ll need a cabinetmaker to build the frames and a glazier to install the glass.”
Her shoulders drooped, as did the corners of her mouth. “From what you say I won’t be able to open again for weeks. I can’t close up shop that long. I’ll have to come up with a plan. In the meantime would you draw up a list of what I need to order?”
“I’ll get right on it. And I’ll be back to secure the tarpaulins with boards later.”
Ellie concluded her business with the carpenter and bid him farewell. She surveyed the makeshift covering protecting her shop, and sadness filled her eyes. “I hadn’t realized how much work was involved, and I dare not think of the expense.”
“Isn’t Steele going to cover the cost?” Miles asked.
“Of course, but…”
“Don’t tell me. He expects you to front the money.”
She tilted her chin in that defiant gesture of hers. “It makes sense. He can’t transact business here while he’s in San Francisco.”
“He’s been known to go back on his word. I don’t trust him. Since he wasn’t keen on renting to you in the first place, you’d be wise to let me supervise the repairs. He and I don’t see eye to eye on everything, but I can deal with his kind.”
She rested her gloved hand on Miles’s arm, and he resisted the urge to smile. “You’ve done more than enough already. It’s come to my attention you stayed up all night watching my place from yours. I appreciate that, but I’ll see to things from here on out.”
Her dismissal felt like a kick in the gut. He had a burning desire to protect her and Tildy. After all, they had no one else to look out for them. But some women were too independent for their own good and didn’t know when to let a man step in. “I’m available if you’d like my help, Ellie.”
She withdrew her hand and pinned him with a piercing look. “What I’d like, Mr. Rutledge, is for you to
honor my requests. I have several people to see, so I’ll be on my way. Good day.”
The next three hours crawled. Miles fought his fatigue, but the lack of customers in town after the storm gave him too much time to think. In his muddle-headed state, his thoughts were poor company. A certain woman with a wagonload of independence continued to invade them. Why couldn’t he put Ellie out of his mind?
Because he cared, whether he wanted to or not, and felt powerless to do anything about it. How could he, when she’d made it clear she didn’t want his help?
Miles locked up the mercantile and trudged up the hill to his house. Perhaps Ellie would be in a more receptive frame of mind and dinner would be a pleasant affair.
“Son, is that you?”
He entered the kitchen and found Mother and Tildy putting the meal on the small table in the corner. “Why aren’t we eating in the dining room?”
“Mama’s not coming, so we’re going to have a cozy time, just the three of us. I’ve never had you two all to myself. It’ll be special, won’t it, Mr. Rutledge?”
“Yes, Tildy.” He looked over her head at Mother. “Where is she?”
“Elenora is dining at the hotel restaurant.”
“With someone?”
Tildy set a pan of cornbread on the table. “With Sheriff Henderson.”
Ellie was having dinner with Hank? He hadn’t dined with a woman once in the ten years he’d been in El Dorado. What could it mean? Was he sweet on her?
Elenora took the seat the sheriff held for her and waited while he pushed her chair closer to the table. He sat opposite her, his neck ablaze. The poor man. He looked more uncomfortable than a saloon girl in a church service. The sooner she got down to the business at hand, the better.
“Sheriff, I’m obliged you agreed to meet with me. I’ve a number of questions related to the security of my shop. Given your expertise, I value your thoughts on the matter. My primary concern is having the place watched at night. I’ve come up with a plan.”
She launched into her explanation, pausing when the waiter took their orders. The sheriff listened intently, and his color slowly returned to normal. “So what do you think?”
“The Talbot twins caused the trouble in the first place, ma’am, so I don’t reckon you should pay them to stand guard. I think they owe it to you. Those fellers have a history of trouble-making and need to learn a lesson.”
“I’m aware of their reputation. They like to give me heart failure when they rode up to the stagecoach that day. But I think giving them the opportunity to make reparations will be good for them, without pay as you said. Unless you have serious reservations.”
He rubbed his chin. “Watching your place might teach them a thing or two. I could have a talk with them if you’d like and let them know they’ll be dealing with me if they let you down. Sometimes the badge comes in handy for making a point.” He patted his.
“I’d prefer to talk to them first. I plan to pay them and their mother a visit this afternoon. I’ve another proposition for them, if they prove themselves worthy. One that would put a little money in their pockets. But if I need your help, I’ll avail myself of it. What I’d like now is for you to educate me about handguns. I intend to purchase one and would like to make a wise decision.”
To his credit Sheriff Henderson showed no surprise. She’d tapped into a subject he knew a great deal about, and he visibly relaxed. He spent their entire mealtime giving her a thorough understanding of her options.
The waiter removed their plates, and she made her final request. “I’ll need an instructor. Would you be willing to teach me how to shoot?”
His speech grew halting, and his neck flamed once again. “I’m not…I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“I thought you’d be the best choice. But perhaps you don’t believe a woman should own—”
“That’s not it. You have every right to own a gun. Anyone with a business should be able to protect it. But I w–wouldn’t make the best teacher for you.”
True. With his trouble talking to women, he wouldn’t. “I understand. Is there someone you’d recommend? Someone as skilled as yourself?”
Her compliment caused the color to spread to the shy sheriff’s cheeks. “We have a real marksman, but I’m not sure he’d be willing to instruct you, either. I might have to persuade him.”
Minutes later Elenora paused beneath the hotel’s enclosed balcony. She used her most professional tone and made sure the others nearby could hear her, hopefully forestalling any gossip. “Thank you, Sheriff. You’ve been most helpful. I appreciate you taking time to discuss the situation with my shop.” She extended a hand as a man would, and he shook it.
“All in a day’s work, Mrs. Watkins.” He doffed his hat and took off down the walkway.
As painful as their meeting had been for him, she’d learned a great deal and couldn’t wait to move forward with her plans. If the Lord chose to bless them, she wouldn’t mind.
That afternoon Miles left the mercantile, sauntered down the walkway, and paused at the door to the sheriff’s office. Hank sat with his feet on the corner of his desk and his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Recounting his time with Ellie, no doubt.
Miles pasted on a smile and went inside. “Howdy.”
Hank dropped his feet to the floor with a jangle of spurs, crossed his arms over his chest, and grinned. “Howdy yourself. I expected to see you long before this. I’ve been back the better part of two hours. What took you so long?”
“Been busy. But I wanted to see if you’ve had a chance to talk with the Talbot twins about the damage they caused.”
“The Talbots, you say? Can’t fool me, Miles. You heard I dined with Mrs. Watkins and want to grill me—after you skewer me, that is.”
He should have known he couldn’t keep his real reason for coming from his friend. Hank knew him too well. “How’d it go?”
“The lady and I had a fine time. Her head isn’t filled with fluff like some women. I can see why she’s turned yours.”
“She’s done no such thing.”
“You can rest easy. My bachelorhood’s not in danger. In fact, I steered her your way.”
“My way? Why?”
“I’ll leave it to her to tell you.”
Even though he tried to pry it out of Hank, his friend said nothing more.
Miles marched down Main Street toward Ellie’s place but stopped outside the grocer’s. When was the last time that many women had been in the shop at one time? Had Mr. Olds received another shipment of Belgian chocolate?
Ellie was at the center of the group, looking lovelier than he’d ever seen her. Her radiant smile could chase away the dark clouds looming over the Sierras.
This was no run on foreign confections. No doubt the gaggle of gabby women was discussing her plight and his thwarted attempts to come to her aid. He could imagine the laughter that must have filled the place when she told them how close she’d come to bashing him over the head with her frying pan.
He wanted to know what Ellie and Hank had discussed and ask if she’d like him to deliver some firewood since her place would be chillier than usual, but he wouldn’t set foot inside Olds’ shop and subject himself to another rebuff in full view of others. He’d talk with her later.
The door to the grocer’s gave a squeak, and hurried footsteps followed. “Mr. Rutledge.” Ellie caught up to him, a basket of groceries over her arm. “Would you have a minute?”
He had the rest of the day. “I can spare one. Why?”
“I thought you might like to know why I wasn’t at dinner.”
He stopped. “It’s none of my business.”
“I invited Sheriff Henderson to share a meal. I wanted his advice on how to protect my shop. You watched it for me last night, but I needed to find another solution. I’ve arranged for some young men to guard the place. And I’ve placed an order for a gun.”
Her words were simple enough to follow, but he couldn’t determine wha
t shone from her bright eyes. If he were pressed to identify it, he’d say eagerness. “But you don’t even know how to shoot.”
“I intend to learn. Sheriff Henderson recommended a man who could teach me.”
“Him?”
She shook her head. “You.”
Chapter 12
Elenora stood on the porch of a small farmhouse later that afternoon and prepared to take her leave. “Thank you for agreeing to my plan, Mrs. Talbot.”
“If my boys give you any trouble, be sure and let me know.”
“I don’t expect any.” As she’d hoped, the twins’ mother had agreed to let her sons stand guard over the shop until the repairs were completed. She hadn’t scoffed at the possibility of the outlaw returning, not since her sons had seen a man skulking about near Union Mine a few weeks after the attempted holdup, around the same time Elenora had spied the big black horse at the creek.
She returned to town at a brisk pace. How quickly the weather had changed. Wet and cold the night before. Dry and warm today. Moisture gathered under her snug collar. Her wardrobe had served her well in Omaha, but she must see about having lighter-weight dresses made. She certainly had enough fabric, which was sitting in her shop behind the temporary covering Mr. MacDougall had fashioned for her with oiled tarpaulins and boards. No dust or moisture could get in, but neither could customers.
If her plan to go door-to-door as traveling salesmen did was successful, she would still bring in some income, which was vital. A month with no revenue, coupled with the money she must advance for the repairs, would take a sizeable chunk of her remaining funds. There were also three shipments due with invoices requiring payment.
But at least she had help to watch her place now. Although Sheriff Henderson had questioned her choice of asking Tommy and Timmy to stand guard, he’d agreed they were strong and knew how to handle a gun.
She’d know how to fire one soon, but first she had to schedule her lesson. If only Mr. Rutledge hadn’t insisted on using his revolver. She’d prefer to wait for hers to arrive and use it, but if she wanted him to teach her, she’d have to use his .44 caliber Colt with its eight-inch barrel. Although it grated on her to admit it, he had a point. If she were teaching someone to play the violin, she would demonstrate the fingerings on her own instrument.
