No Other Will Do

by Karen Witemeyer

  The women fell silent again. Malachi felt like the worst sort of villain, casting aspersions on Emma’s community, especially after their impressive display of unified purpose last night. But maybe that was the true benefit of bringing in an outsider. He could see things, or at least the possibilities of things, that Emma was too close to recognize.

  “I know you don’t want to believe that one of your own could be involved,” Malachi said, his voice as gentle as he could make it, “but walking around with blinders on won’t help your ladies, either. I’m not saying that we should start throwing accusations around. That would only rile everyone up and destroy the camaraderie that you’ve worked so hard to build, a camaraderie you’ll need to defeat the skunk who’s trying to drive you out.

  “All I’m asking is that you stop assuming that everyone’s motives are as pure as your own. Ask questions. Read between a few lines. We can start by finding out where that turpentine came from.” He tilted his head toward the pie safe. “It looks like it sat in a cupboard or barn for a good long while. It belongs somewhere around here. If we discover where it came from, it might give us a clue to the identity of the person who used it. We should also determine who sent up the alarm. The first person on scene could have been the one to start the blaze. She wanted the fire to be caught early so the message would be decipherable. What better way to deflect suspicion than to be the one who sounded the alarm?”

  Henry raised a brow at him. “You have a devious mind, boy.”

  He shrugged off her comment, but the action didn’t stop the old guilt from swirling through his gut again. “I spent a lot of years deflecting suspicion in my youth, sidestepping the law in order to survive. I know how it’s done.”

  Emma peered at him, her eyes finally sharpening, leaving behind the glaze of denial. “And that might be exactly what one of our ladies is facing—survival.” She turned to the aunts and straightened in her chair, a new energy driving her movements. “Malachi is right. It’s dangerous for us to naïvely assume that none of our ladies could be involved.” She swung back toward Malachi. “But we must not be too quick to cast blame, either. There could be many innocent explanations for what appears to be suspicious behavior, and I won’t have anyone badgered or unduly scrutinized as we struggle to piece the truth together. We will presume innocence even as we seek proof of guilt.”

  Mal nodded. “Agreed.”

  “We will also keep this discussion strictly between the four of us.” She looked pointedly at each of the aunts. “You cannot speak of it to Daisy or anyone else. Understood?”

  Henry gave a crisp nod.

  Bertie’s followed a bit more hesitantly. “Will you not tell Victoria? The two of you started this colony together. She’s been with you since the beginning. Surely you trust her?”

  Emma’s eyes slid closed for a moment as if Bertie’s words caused her physical pain. “I trust Tori completely,” she said as she opened her eyes. “Perhaps I will share our findings with her once we have gathered some evidence, but at this point, the fewer people who know we are looking, the better. Less chance that something will be overheard that way.”

  Her spine straightened a bit more then, and her chin jutted forward the way it always had as a kid when she was about to start ordering him around. “Malachi and I will ask the questions that need asking. Henry and Bertie, you’ll keep to your normal routine. No need to probe anyone for information. However, all four of us will keep our eyes open for anything that seems unusual. We’ll report our findings back to the others here in the evenings, when we can be assured of privacy.”

  Mal bit back a grin. She’d found her bossy britches again, and they looked good on her. How this woman could have ever doubted her ability to lead was beyond him. She’d been made for it. Concern for those under her care—all those under her care—radiated from her. As did intelligence and foresight. She might be a bit impulsive at times, but she could also examine a situation with a banker’s acumen, weighing future outcomes against current need. Oh, he had no illusions about her intent. She was bent on “saving” the woman he suspected had been dragged into this scheme, whoever she was. And for Emma’s sake, he hoped the woman proved worthy of her efforts. If not, he’d take whatever steps were necessary to keep the people he cared about safe.

  Done with her directives, Emma pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. A hint of a smile played at her mouth as she tipped her head at him. “Malachi, I think it’s time you were officially introduced to the women of Harper’s Station.”

  12

  Deciding it was too early to call at the boardinghouse, Emma opted to take Malachi to the farm first. Betty always had her assistants up with the roosters and busy with chores. When they strolled up the path to the house, Emma spotted Katie scattering chicken feed. She lifted a hand in greeting.

  “Good morning, Katie.”

  The girl twisted her head around then smiled and waved. “’Morning, Miss Chandler. Are you needing to talk to Betty?”

  “Yes, please. And Helen, as well. I thought it best that everyone have a chance to meet Mr. Shaw, since he’s going to be helping us out for the next few days.”

  Malachi tipped his hat, and Katie’s gaze trailed over him in an appreciative manner. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shaw. I’m Katie Clark.”

  “Miss Clark.”

  She giggled, the high-pitched titter grating on Emma’s nerves. Katie sauntered over to where they stood, her basket of feed swinging unsteadily on her arm. Probably because her hips were swaying as wide as the pendulum on Aunt Bertie’s grandfather clock. Emma raised her gaze to the sky. Good grief. Couldn’t the girl be at least a little subtle?

  Katie halted before them and reached a hand out to touch Malachi’s sleeve. “‘Miss Clark’ sounds awfully stuffy. I’d much prefer you call me Katie.” She batted her lashes. Twice. “It’s such a blessing having a man like you around to protect us. I feel safer already.” The lashes started to dip a third time, but Emma interrupted before they could make a full descent.

  “Yes, well, you were going to fetch Miss Cooper for us?”

  Katie’s bat morphed into a startled blink at the sound of Emma’s voice. She turned. “Oh, of course, Miss Chandler.”

  The way she said Miss Chandler made Emma feel like an old-maid schoolmarm. Which was ridiculous, seeing as how Katie was only a year younger than her. But Katie wasn’t in charge of the colony or a bank or even her own daily schedule. Emma bit back a groan. Maybe she was old. She certainly felt it next to the bubbling, coquettish Katie.

  Reluctant to leave, Katie tossed a coy glance over her shoulder at Malachi. “I’ll be right back.”

  Malachi tried to smile, but the effort more resembled a grimace.

  The girl scampered off, and Emma apologized. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen her behave like that before. She’s always acted quite sensible around me.”

  “Ha!” The shout came from behind them. Emma pivoted to find Betty Cooper marching toward them, dressed in trousers and a man’s shirt, a shotgun propped backward across her shoulder. “That’s because you ain’t a man, Emma.” Betty gave Malachi a stern, measuring stare as she strolled up. “And you best not get any ideas about my Katie or any of the other womenfolk around here.” She poked her finger into the hollow of Malachi’s shoulder. “You’re here for one reason. To clear out the mangy coyote tryin’ to break up our town. We don’t need you for anything else. Flush him out, round him up, then hit the trail. Got it?”

  “Betty. Really. Where’s your hospitality?” Heat crept across Emma’s cheeks as she snuck a peek at Malachi. The poor man looked as if he’d been skewered with a spit and placed over an open flame to roast.

  “I’m just statin’ facts. Best he know right from the start that I won’t tolerate any hanky-panky goin’ on with any of our girls. We keep men out for a reason, Emma. I agreed to let this one come because you and your aunts vouched for him and because we ain’t got the firepower or experience to stop this outlaw on our own, but
that don’t mean I trust him in other matters. He’s still a man.”

  “But, Betty—”

  Mal placed a hand on Emma’s arm, then stepped in front of her to face Betty. “That’s all right, Em. Mrs. Cooper’s right. Trust needs to be earned. I’ll prove myself in time.”

  “I’d rather you not hang around that long,” Betty grumbled. “Might not even need you after the new shipment of guns comes in. A rifle acts the same whether it’s a male or female pullin’ its trigger.”

  “True,” Mal conceded, “but it does the shooter no good if he or she can’t hit what they’re aimin’ at.” He held his ground, meeting Betty stare for stare. “I understand my purpose here, Mrs. Cooper, and whether you trust me or appreciate my being here really doesn’t matter. I won’t be leaving until I’m sure Emma and the aunts are safe.”

  Betty held his gaze for a long moment. Mal never flinched. Finally, the woman seemed to make up her mind and gave a sharp nod before tromping past Mal to head for the house. Emma followed, offering an apologetic smile to Mal as she moved past him.

  “What brings you to the farm?” Betty asked, her long no-nonsense stride eating up the ground at such a pace, Emma had to skip a bit to catch up.

  “I wanted to introduce Mr. Shaw around and ask a few questions about the fire. We’re trying to piece together all the information we can to see if we can figure out exactly what happened.”

  “What happened was the church burned.” Leave it to Betty to sum things up succinctly.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Were you walking a perimeter just now?” Malachi interrupted, jerking his chin toward the gun Betty carried.

  “Yep.” She made no effort to turn and face him, just kept marching. “Thought it a good idea after last night. Didn’t see nothin’ out of the ordinary, though. Was on my way back when I spied the two of you jawin’ with Katie.”

  Malachi apparently had no trouble keeping up with Betty. His stride carried him past Emma with little effort and brought him abreast of the older woman. “I was thinkin’ it might be a good idea to set up a watch rotation,” he said. “Two ladies per shift, three shifts per night. Stationed in the church’s bell tower for best vantage. That somethin’ you might be interested in overseein’? Seems to me a woman who knows enough to check her perimeter would be just the sort I’d want to put in charge of the watch.”

  This was the first Emma had heard of a watch, but it was a sound notion. She just couldn’t help feeling a little slighted that Mal was asking Betty to organize it instead of her. No one knew the town’s women as well as she did.

  It’s not about controlling, Emma. The reminder scraped a raw spot on her conscience. Goodness. Was she really so full of herself that she thought she should be in charge of everything? How utterly impractical. There was plenty of work to go around without her getting her feelings hurt because Malachi thought someone else more aptly suited to a task than she.

  And how better for Mal to prove that he wasn’t one of those autocratic males who pay no heed to a woman’s opinion? Even now, Betty was slowing her steps and regarding him with cautionary interest.

  “I reckon I can manage that,” Betty said. “My late husband and I were stationed at Fort Elliott for five years before an Injun got him. He taught me how to shoot and how to recognize signs of enemy encroachment. I can train the others on what to look for.”

  Malachi grinned. “Perfect. Consider yourself in charge.”

  Betty dipped her chin.

  “I planned to get everyone together this afternoon for some weapons instruction,” Mal continued. “I’d be grateful for your assistance with that, as well.”

  “I reckon I can manage that. You might think about askin’ Grace, too. She’s more familiar with handguns. We got a paltry collection of firearms at our disposal right now, but next time Mr. Porter comes through, we should have a better arsenal to choose from.”

  “When do you expect him?”

  Betty hesitated.

  Emma jumped into the conversation, thankful to finally have some information to contribute. “He should be here day after tomorrow. Monday.”

  “Good.” Malachi eyed both women. “We can start the shooting lessons after he gets here. In the meantime, everyone needs to know how to load and care for the weapons. We can also inform the ladies about the watch. You think you can have a basic list ready by this afternoon, Mrs. Cooper?”

  “Yep. I’ll have it ready. I’ll take care to mix ages and experience levels.” Her gaze turned to Emma. “You know of any personal issues I should be aware of? Any gals that shouldn’t be paired up?”

  Emma thought a moment. “Flora can be a mite prickly. You might want to pair her with someone who has a more placid temperament. Oh, and I’m not sure Daisy can handle the stairs to the steeple. It might be better to have her contribute by watching Lewis when Tori is on duty.”

  Betty nodded. “Good thought. Do you think your aunts can handle the climb?”

  “Yes, though they should probably only be assigned early shifts. They tend to doze off easily once the sun goes down.”

  “I’ll pair one of them with my Katie. That gal can talk the skin off a turnip. She’ll keep ’em awake.”

  “Better put her with Bertie, then,” Emma recommended, a soft chuckle escaping at the thought of Henry being saddled with such a chatterbox. “Henry’s liable to throw the girl from the ramparts.”

  Betty chortled. “Ha! Right you are.” The sound of a door slamming had Betty’s gaze lifting over Emma’s head. “Speaking of . . .”

  Emma turned. There was Katie, traipsing down the front steps wearing a different dress. One she usually saved for Sundays.

  “There you are, Betty!” She bustled over to where the three of them stood and neatly slid her arm around one of Malachi’s elbows as she insinuated herself into the circle. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Apparently everywhere meant the wardrobe and bureau drawers. Not only had Katie donned a new dress, but she’d put her hair up. And Emma was pretty sure she smelled rose water, as well.

  Betty frowned. Malachi fidgeted. Emma fumed.

  Why was she fuming? She tried to tell herself she was angry at Katie’s flirtatious manner because it would likely get Malachi into trouble, but she feared it was Mal’s slowness in disengaging the other woman from his arm that had her hackles up. Which made no sense. She didn’t have a claim on Malachi, at least not a romantic one. They shared a bond forged in childhood, a powerful friendship, but it was nothing more than that. It couldn’t be. She had her work with the women’s colony. He had his demolition job with the railroads. No two paths could be more divergent.

  Katie scooted even closer, leaning in toward Malachi until her skirts pressed against his legs. In the process, she bumped against the burlap sack he carried.

  “Careful, miss.” Mal finally found his voice. And his feet, thank heavens. He sidled away from Katie and held the sack between them as a buffer. “I wouldn’t want you to soil your dress.”

  Katie wrinkled her nose as if only just noticing the stained burlap. “What is it?”

  “Turpentine.” Malachi looked to Betty. “Wanted to see if you recognized the canister. We found it by the garden this morning. It might have been used to start the fire. It’s possible that whoever lit the blaze stole the stuff from somewhere close at hand, then left it behind. We’re hoping that figuring out where he got it from will help us track his movements.”

  Betty frowned, but made no effort to deny that the turpentine might be hers. “Well, let’s take a look-see, then.”

  Malachi opened the sack and pulled out the dented, slightly rusted can. “This look familiar?”

  Betty leaned closer to examine it. “Could be. Only one way to tell for sure. We need to check the supplies in the barn. See if ours is missing.” Swinging her shotgun off her shoulder to clasp it across her body in a more ready position, Betty pivoted and started marching toward the barn. Malachi and Emma followed.


  Katie hesitated for a moment, then hurried after them. “Wait,” she called, her voice suddenly void of all flirtatious tones. “Are you saying that man was here? On our farm?”

  Emma halted then retreated a few steps to intercept Katie while the others continued on. Hating the fear she saw etched in the young woman’s face, Emma set aside her earlier frustration and laid a comforting hand on Katie’s arm. “We don’t know he was here, Katie. We don’t even know that the turpentine we found came from Betty’s farm.”

  “But if it is ours, that means he was here, right? Here. Where we sleep. Three women alone.” The poor girl was shaking in earnest now.

  Emma wrapped an arm around Katie’s shoulders. “We don’t know that. Someone else could have borrowed the turpentine and forgotten to return it. There are a hundred different explanations.”

  Katie looked directly into Emma’s eyes. “But you don’t believe any of those other explanations, do you?”

  Emma sighed. “To be honest, Katie. I don’t know what to believe right now. Mr. Shaw found that turpentine and is determined to learn where it came from. He believes it can help us figure out how the man is stirring up trouble in town without our being alerted. If we can unravel his methods, we can take steps to stop him. That’s the plan, anyway.”

  Katie nodded. “I understand. I just . . .” She glanced past Emma to the barn and bit her lip. “His attacks always seemed to happen in other areas of the town. Not where I lived. It was easier to pretend the threat wasn’t real when it was distant. Now it’s here.”

  Emma rubbed Katie’s arm, trying to reassure even as she battled her own apprehension. “I’m sure Betty would understand if you wanted to move into town until this is over. The boardinghouse is full, but there are rooms above the café that aren’t in use. It’s right next door to Victoria’s store. You might feel safer there.”